Title: Daddy

Rating: M

Word count: 764

Pairing: Nami/Sanji, mainly focus on Sanji.

Notes: WARNING: DEATH FIC

Summary: No, that wasn't right. His little princess should never look like that, never in a million years. His mind was fuzzy, but he knew that much. It was just wrong.

-o-o-o-ooo-o-

"DADDY!"

Her little voice ripped through the silence, full of pain, anguish and desperation. His head turned up and he stared forward, looking for the source of the voice.

He found her. Her little small pale arms were twisted painfully behind her-in the grip of a man larger than himself. The man had a gun pressed against the side of her tiny head, her body quivering in fear; her face flushed red with big fat tears pouring down her cheeks from her bright blue eyes. Her pretty pink dress he got her for her birthday months ago was soiled with a mixture of what he could only suspect was gunpowder, dirt and blood. The short orange hair that was usually fashioned into two tiny pigtails by her mother was a mess, and clinging to her tear stained cheeks.

No, that wasn't right. His little princess should never look like that, never in a million years. His mind was fuzzy, but he knew that much. It was just wrong.

Next to the girl was her mother, in the hands of another man though the situation was similar to the girls. Her arms twisted behind her, her weapon scattered out of sight, and a gun pressed against her temple. Her wavy orange hair was in a similar state to her daughters, her wide brown eyes too shocked and horrified to produce anymore tears.

His mind and heart ached at the site of his two precious people in such a state. Had it not been for the ringing in his ears, the foot at his back and the sword against the nape of his neck he would have charged over and torn the mens disgusting hands away from them.

In any other situation this would have never happened.

This was all his fault, he knew that. He'd gotten sloppy in his old age, not the ripe young boy he had once been. No, that was just an excuse. He could have kicked these mens asses two ways to sunday. He let himself be taken off guard. A group of experienced bounty hunters had broken into the restaurant, and a battle had broken out. He hadn't been strong enough to protect the little girl eating a sandwich at a table or the woman counting money with her.

He had been weak.

And now the two people who were most dear to him were going to suffer unless he did something. But he couldn't do anything. Pain shot through his skull from where it had made impact with the hard floor when he was shoved down.

His daughter's screams echoed in his head, her cries for him and her mother. Her mother's cries when he went down were too painful to even think on. He vaguely acknowledged the fact that the owner of the boot on his back was speaking.

He made eye contact with his wife, and offered her a weak smile. Even now, with his mind half not there and her battered and bruised-she was beautiful. He thought of the first day they met. When his life changed forever, for the better.

The man dug his heel into his spine, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut and hiss out in pain. When he opened them, his vision even blurrier than before, his eyes went straight back to the woman.

He saw her mouth out his name, no sound coming out or perhaps he was just too far lost to hear it. After all, he could see his daughters frame shaking and her mouth moving in what he could only assume to be screams and he heard nothing.

The sword at his neck lifted, and he tried to move though his body didn't cooperate. He had to move, he had to get to them but he couldn't. He only hoped that when this was all over, the two women would get out safely. He begged to a God he wasn't sure existed that they'd be safe.

He tried to offer his family another smile, and open his chapped bruised lips to say he loved them but he wasn't fast enough. Perhaps the man had just been faster.

The last thing he heard was the screams of his wife and daughter, crying for him.

"DADDY!"

"SANJI, NO! PLEASE!"