[In the end, it happens the way Koby had feared it would: in the middle of the night, when he's the safest he's ever been, tucked up warm against Quentin's side, nuzzled into that place where his neck and shoulder meet, breathing him in. In the end, he hasn't had enough time, he doesn't know what to do, he clutches at Quentin's hand and tries -- tries with all the strength in his body, his heart, his soul, but he slips away and Koby calls for him, screams his name that one last agonized time, feeling the distance like a lance through his chest.
He wakes up screaming, knowing immediately that it hadn't worked, all his research, all his late nights, all the fervent, adoring might of his love for Quentin had done nothing. Because he's back, he's home, smaller and slighter than he'd been -- and god, the nightmare of that, the change of his body back to the young, wide-eyed, oblivious cadet, a body that Quentin had never touched, never held, never brought to life with his hands and his kisses and his adoration, that aches, later, in a way Koby hadn't anticipated. But in those first days, the only thing Koby can feel is shattered from within, heartbroken in a way he hadn't known was possible. He's home, he's safe in a Marine base with Garp listening to his story with a solemn, serious expression, baffled, but stunned by the things Koby knows, the things he's learned -- things he could only have learned if he'd truly spent months and months in another world.
And Quentin is back in Solastra, back within the Regent's clutches, and the horror of that wrenches it's way through Koby's nightmares for years. He tells Garp, that first day -- I need Marine resources, otherwise I'd join up with Luffy tomorrow. I'm asking for his help too, wherever he goes. He knew Quentin too, he'll help me look. I'll give you every ounce of energy, everything in me, I'll devote myself wholly to the Marines, for the rest of my life. And in return, you give me every contact you have in every sea and you help me find him. He'd agreed -- he knew the investment would pay off, he knew that Koby's potential was invaluable to the Marines, and it was worth it to devote the resources to try finding this one man.
And it is. Koby climbs the ranks at a blistering pace, unbothered by the false modesty he might've felt in another world, another time. The higher rank he was, the better access to resources, to messengers and spies and agents in every corner of every sea. He lives a life like he might have -- the Straw Hats remember the manor, but an alliance with one Marine doesn't shield them from much of the events over the next several years. The things Koby had learned from Shanks, the haki skills help him access those abilities in a less traumatic way, and Luffy keeps in regular contact, sending letters from all across the world: no sign of him. we'll keep looking. we won't give up, koby.
It doesn't stop hurting. Koby still reaches out across the bed every morning for someone who isn't there, still dreams of that house, that room, that bed with that man, still wakes up with the taste of Quentin on his lips. He's still earnest and honest and courageous, he still cries too easily and loves with all his might, but there's an absence, a void, like a part of him has been carved out and left aching and raw. Koby doesn't breathe without thinking of what he's lost, of the wild injustice of how it had ended. He moves forward, and he grows, he becomes Captain Koby, he stands taller and broader and he aches for Quentin every. Single. Day.
Five years on, Koby still patrols the East Blue, still seeks out the pockets of corruption and violence left from decades upon decades of the Marines as the flawed, broken machine it had been. Things are different now, with the perpetual war over, the World Government overthrown, the alliance between the Pirate King and the Marines creating a new world, but there's still plenty of work to do. The smaller islands live much the same as they had when Koby was a terrified cabin boy on Alvida's ship, and he knows there are other innocent, helpless people being exploited and abused, by the people wearing the same uniform that fits him like a glove, now.
He thinks this is the case on Delta Island, where he's stationed for the next several weeks, as he hears the commotion on the deck of the ship -- his ship, for all intents and purposes, having dishonorably discharged the previous captain. The crew is overall a solid group of young men and women, if a bit...overexcited. Still, arresting someone on the deck of Koby's ship is never acceptable, especially a civilian, and he sweeps through the crowd with a stern, booming:] Enough of that, no need to get overexcited, is there?
[Koby looks down at the intruder, the civilian who'd barged onto a Marine ship, Helmeppo is saying beside him, and -- and the entire world shudders to a halt, and everything inside him is alight with soaring, dizzying, desperate hope, because he knows the tangle of that dark hair, and he knows those eyes and he knows that face. He's seen it a thousand times in a crowd, lurching forward after a stranger, sometimes grasping their arms before realizing he's wrong again, it isn't the one he's looking for. But this time -- not this time, Koby knows, he knows and his breath catches and his knees buckle and the words come out immediately, hoarsely:] Let him go. Let go of him.
[Sir, I-- one of the Marines starts to protest, and there's a shudder in the air, a shift of energy sudden and sharp enough that the deck itself creaks and the sails quiver. Koby's expression is suddenly stormy, dark, dangerous, a carefully-honed power that had been in it's infancy in the manor. It's the same power that confirms for him that the man pinned to the deck is who he's searched for every day since they were torn apart. He knows that presence, that aura, golden-warm and bright and seared into the shape of his soul. From it, he feels desperation, exhaustion, pain, and his eyes harden, darken, pinning the man with his foot pressed to Quentin's spine.] That is an order, Corporal. Take. Your hands off him. [The words snap in the air like lightning, and the foot is removed immediately, the cadets shuffling away from their would-be prisoner.
Koby knows Helmeppo is bewildered, but ceaselessly loyal, ushering the Marines away, barking commands like a good second-in-command, creating some space for Koby to slowly kneel down, reach out one shaky hand to smooth back the tangled, dark curls.] Quentin. [It comes out soft, and Helmeppo stiffens, breath catching, because he knows. Anyone who knows Koby knows that name.] It's me. It's -- do you...do you remember me? [He knows it's a possibility, it's been years and memory is so strange between worlds, his own recollections going fuzzy in places. To not be remembered by Quentin would be devastating, but Koby can bear it. He can bear anything, if he has Quentin close, safe, with him. He laughs, the sound shaky, trembling, callused palm slowly, gently cradling Quentin's face.] It's Koby. You found me. You found me.
no subject
He wakes up screaming, knowing immediately that it hadn't worked, all his research, all his late nights, all the fervent, adoring might of his love for Quentin had done nothing. Because he's back, he's home, smaller and slighter than he'd been -- and god, the nightmare of that, the change of his body back to the young, wide-eyed, oblivious cadet, a body that Quentin had never touched, never held, never brought to life with his hands and his kisses and his adoration, that aches, later, in a way Koby hadn't anticipated. But in those first days, the only thing Koby can feel is shattered from within, heartbroken in a way he hadn't known was possible. He's home, he's safe in a Marine base with Garp listening to his story with a solemn, serious expression, baffled, but stunned by the things Koby knows, the things he's learned -- things he could only have learned if he'd truly spent months and months in another world.
And Quentin is back in Solastra, back within the Regent's clutches, and the horror of that wrenches it's way through Koby's nightmares for years. He tells Garp, that first day -- I need Marine resources, otherwise I'd join up with Luffy tomorrow. I'm asking for his help too, wherever he goes. He knew Quentin too, he'll help me look. I'll give you every ounce of energy, everything in me, I'll devote myself wholly to the Marines, for the rest of my life. And in return, you give me every contact you have in every sea and you help me find him. He'd agreed -- he knew the investment would pay off, he knew that Koby's potential was invaluable to the Marines, and it was worth it to devote the resources to try finding this one man.
And it is. Koby climbs the ranks at a blistering pace, unbothered by the false modesty he might've felt in another world, another time. The higher rank he was, the better access to resources, to messengers and spies and agents in every corner of every sea. He lives a life like he might have -- the Straw Hats remember the manor, but an alliance with one Marine doesn't shield them from much of the events over the next several years. The things Koby had learned from Shanks, the haki skills help him access those abilities in a less traumatic way, and Luffy keeps in regular contact, sending letters from all across the world: no sign of him. we'll keep looking. we won't give up, koby.
It doesn't stop hurting. Koby still reaches out across the bed every morning for someone who isn't there, still dreams of that house, that room, that bed with that man, still wakes up with the taste of Quentin on his lips. He's still earnest and honest and courageous, he still cries too easily and loves with all his might, but there's an absence, a void, like a part of him has been carved out and left aching and raw. Koby doesn't breathe without thinking of what he's lost, of the wild injustice of how it had ended. He moves forward, and he grows, he becomes Captain Koby, he stands taller and broader and he aches for Quentin every. Single. Day.
Five years on, Koby still patrols the East Blue, still seeks out the pockets of corruption and violence left from decades upon decades of the Marines as the flawed, broken machine it had been. Things are different now, with the perpetual war over, the World Government overthrown, the alliance between the Pirate King and the Marines creating a new world, but there's still plenty of work to do. The smaller islands live much the same as they had when Koby was a terrified cabin boy on Alvida's ship, and he knows there are other innocent, helpless people being exploited and abused, by the people wearing the same uniform that fits him like a glove, now.
He thinks this is the case on Delta Island, where he's stationed for the next several weeks, as he hears the commotion on the deck of the ship -- his ship, for all intents and purposes, having dishonorably discharged the previous captain. The crew is overall a solid group of young men and women, if a bit...overexcited. Still, arresting someone on the deck of Koby's ship is never acceptable, especially a civilian, and he sweeps through the crowd with a stern, booming:] Enough of that, no need to get overexcited, is there?
[Koby looks down at the intruder, the civilian who'd barged onto a Marine ship, Helmeppo is saying beside him, and -- and the entire world shudders to a halt, and everything inside him is alight with soaring, dizzying, desperate hope, because he knows the tangle of that dark hair, and he knows those eyes and he knows that face. He's seen it a thousand times in a crowd, lurching forward after a stranger, sometimes grasping their arms before realizing he's wrong again, it isn't the one he's looking for. But this time -- not this time, Koby knows, he knows and his breath catches and his knees buckle and the words come out immediately, hoarsely:] Let him go. Let go of him.
[Sir, I-- one of the Marines starts to protest, and there's a shudder in the air, a shift of energy sudden and sharp enough that the deck itself creaks and the sails quiver. Koby's expression is suddenly stormy, dark, dangerous, a carefully-honed power that had been in it's infancy in the manor. It's the same power that confirms for him that the man pinned to the deck is who he's searched for every day since they were torn apart. He knows that presence, that aura, golden-warm and bright and seared into the shape of his soul. From it, he feels desperation, exhaustion, pain, and his eyes harden, darken, pinning the man with his foot pressed to Quentin's spine.] That is an order, Corporal. Take. Your hands off him. [The words snap in the air like lightning, and the foot is removed immediately, the cadets shuffling away from their would-be prisoner.
Koby knows Helmeppo is bewildered, but ceaselessly loyal, ushering the Marines away, barking commands like a good second-in-command, creating some space for Koby to slowly kneel down, reach out one shaky hand to smooth back the tangled, dark curls.] Quentin. [It comes out soft, and Helmeppo stiffens, breath catching, because he knows. Anyone who knows Koby knows that name.] It's me. It's -- do you...do you remember me? [He knows it's a possibility, it's been years and memory is so strange between worlds, his own recollections going fuzzy in places. To not be remembered by Quentin would be devastating, but Koby can bear it. He can bear anything, if he has Quentin close, safe, with him. He laughs, the sound shaky, trembling, callused palm slowly, gently cradling Quentin's face.] It's Koby. You found me. You found me.