NOTES: This came from pondering what could possibly make Luffy try to run/hide from an enemy instead of standing to fight. PG-13. 1500 words.

21 Accept Defeat

The drop of blood from the gash on his forehead is loud as it hits the red and white tile of the floor.

But they're red, those tiles, so help to hide the trail. The scuffs of more irregular red where he's been, that could point at his hiding place, fade into the intricate spirals.

Luffy hunches further under the chair. It isn't a big chair, just a regular old wooden dining chair, but it's possible to make yourself fit into spaces that are very, very small when you're made of rubber. He can't remember using this to hide from an enemy before... only Usopp and Chopper, while hide-and-seeking... or Sanji or Nami, on occasion. But right now, he doesn't think he has a choice.

If he can't stand then he can't stand and fight, and this guy - this guy was at least as strong as him before. So now that he's hurt his leg, Luffy thinks hiding might be the best option, even if tying it off tightly to stop the bleeding has mostly worked.

There's a lot of scattered furniture lying around from when all the people fled the party, when this Mountain King guy crashed in (although Sanji says he's just a shitty devil fruit tyrant with a bad attitude and an intimidating power, not a God or a king or a demon like the people here say at all), right when they were celebrating thinking they got rid of the guy the first time. It's easier to hide under than trip over it, which is one other point in his decision.

The last is that he's starting to feel a bit faint.

The grey giant sweeps his huge leg, catching a bunch of stuff, including the chair Luffy's hiding beneath. It's okay, because he clings to the underside of the seat in a squashed rubber ball and bounces with it end over end. It deflects off a wall and finally rolls to a halt. He nudges it an extra roll so it lands facing away from the enemy. He can feel himself sweating with the effort of clinging on; hopes he isn't going to pass out. He hears more crashes, but the drawback of his last move is he can't see what's going on to cause them.

On the floor close to him, there's one of the silver plates from the banquet. He eases out one arm and nudges it with his fingertip, drawing it closer until he can quietly get his fingers under the edge and angle it to reflect outside his line of sight.

The guy's not looking his way...

It's hard to move because of jarring his leg, and the shirt knotted just below his knee catches in the debris, but the big guy's doing him a favour, starting to get frustrated now and making so much noise Luffy's little noises don't stand out at all as he crawls on hands and knee toward the way out. Zoro and Sanji... if they've finished with their opponents they can probably deal with this guy together... or... Everyone, Luffy decides. Sets his face in determination and decides. Since he lost, and he can't fight this battle anymore, he'd better go and get them.

He's almost there, but he sees movement in the silver plate between his teeth. He dives behind an ornate sideboard by the wall. His leg screams at him, and he almost screams too, but stuffs a fist in his mouth to replace the plate that's dropped into his lap. He sags between the wall and the polished wood, and because it's nudging against his bent knee, right there, and he can hardly not, he eats a roast duck from the cut-short feast while he waits to discover whether or not the devil fruit user saw him.

He's wiping his mouth and slurping up the grease from the back of his fingers when the shadow looms over him and an ugly hand the size of his body starts to reach for him.

At least, he thinks, staring up, licking his lips one more time, he's had a last meal.

Neither Gear Second or Gear Third are a good idea right now, but he'd rather die of blood loss landing one last punch then just waiting. Decision made, he feels a weight lift from him and it's easy, easy to stretch his face into a grin. Grinning against the pain, he moves to half-stand against the wall, his hand set into position to pump the knee of his good leg hard enough to make this work with just one-

"108 pound canon!"

"Diablo!"

He's never been so happy to see Zoro and Sanji in his life, and yet the cold, conflicted feeling sweeps through him when he doesn't immediately see the rest of them, because if they're alone then- but no, wait- "Oi, oi! There you are, you guys!" He didn't reach them, but it's smart and just like his nakama to know to come anyway.

Luffy feels his senses starting to reel. He slides back down the wall, until he's sitting again, and he doesn't call for Chopper, because he knows - can see - that they can't spare anyone else if they're to win this fight.

The tiny core of remaining fear he won't admit to is enough to keep him clinging to consciousness while he watches them do it.

Luffy leans back against the wall, right knee bent, hands planted on the floor either side of the left. His head slides further and further down until his face is being squeezed between the wall and the end of the sideboard that's trying to imprint carved leaves into his face. He's dimly aware his fingers are damp, and the pool of thick, warm, wet liquid is spreading further from his left knee. But he can't muster the energy to pull on the ends of his shirt to tighten the tourniquet.

His vision glazes on Usopp and Zoro's combination attack, followed by Sanji's final blow and their enemy's fall. See, they did it, a voice whispers inside his skull. They did it. He can go to sleep now...

"Luffy!" That's Chopper, slapping his face. His head ricochets off the wall and the sideboard in turn. When he wants to, Chopper can really deliver a smack. "Luffy! Stay awake! Damn! Don't give up! You're not allowed to give up!"

Whoever said anything about giving up? He just wants to rest.

"We can make you a new leg," Chopper yells, and he feels his face grabbed and his eyelids pried open by hairy thumbs. "Franky-"

So that's what it is.

His nakama are feeling bad, so he makes an extra effort to hold open his eyes.

"Yeah, Mugiwara!" Franky grips his shoulder in a comradely shake, which wobbles him like a blade of grass in a hurricane at the moment. He picks up Luffy's hand and claps it to his much bigger one in a high five. "Any specification, any extra type gizmo you want, and it's done! Meat storage compartment! Rapid fire toe guns! Gimme a week to work on springs and pistons and I bet I can even make it stretch to match the other. Best leg there ever was!"

"Yeah...! 'S... right!" Luffy jerks his head in a nod. He reaches up to grip Chopper's shoulder and Franky's, meaning to tug himself to his feet (...foot), but halfway up Franky sweeps him in against his metal chest. He can feel a whole bunch of Robin's arms steadying his body, cradling the truncated limb. Usopp's hand brushes over his forehead, then he's replaced by Nami, before Chopper shoves them all out of the way. The reindeer is mumbling, breathless but marginally less panicked. "Blood loss... he needs attention... a transfusion... He's not gonna die... He's not gonna die!"

"Yes," agrees Nami quietly. Behind her, Zoro and Sanji are both limping and battered from taking the bulk of the action, so much so that they're leaning on each other for support, though Luffy can see them shove and gripe while they do it. Brook looms over Franky's shoulder morosely, and tenderly sing-songs, "Captain...!"

Man, they're all so glum.

"Stupid!" he says, jerking an arm that weighs several hundred times its usual and batting Chopper in his blue nose with an open palm for his fussing. "Of course Franky's gonna make the best leg ever! Of course I'm not giving up! Shanks got to be a great pirate without an arm, so I can be Pirate King without one rotten leg! I'm alive, aren't I? You beat up the big mountain fruit guy and- and you're all alive. So stop looking so miserable!" He slings an arm over Franky's shoulder, lifts the dead weight of his head, fuelling himself with determination as he looks around them all fiercely past his blurring eyes and the dizzying nausea and the pain.

Past the bloody knot of his shirt, under the smothering care of Robin's firm hands, his left leg ends below the knee. He can't lie - it terrifies him. It was there, a part of him, and now it's gone, and he doesn't know how he's going to manage without it. But he has to. He can. He will.

-Shanks-

One thing he's sure of is it doesn't mean the end of their adventure.

END