-Part 3-

The Splitting of a Universe

-Doflamingo-

There was once something that resembled innocence. When it came down to it, neither Crocodile nor Doflamingo could really go as far as to call it pure childlike innocence, because that never existed between them. Whether it was a result of Doflamingo always being a rotten human being, Crocodile's innate discontent, a combination of both or neither, was beyond comprehension to either man. The past was another universe set in a fragile galaxy where the construction paper hats crumbled into sand, the grains destined to mix into the vastness of the desert, the exact placement and meaning behind the affectionate performance lost forever.

With only a few seconds left before Crocodile made his final decision, Doflamingo leaned against the car, his body frozen in place as a rush of memories flashed before him. A dosage of emotions quickly followed, some good, not all bad, nearly all manipulated by his subconscious. If there was time to comprehend it all, Doflamingo might have picked up that there was something amiss, that his mind was willing to bend the truth further in order to make him right. But out of all the falsified memories placed before him, one stood out as truth. He was at the park, knees dragging across cool grass, his arms reaching out and shaking Crocodile who warned him not to touch him, could have lashed out for waking him up, but didn't. Brimming with pride, Doflamingo offered the boy he looked up to so dearly the handmade pirate hat, praising himself before crowning his captain king of pirates. That memory was real and so important that it took its time playing in his mind. That wonderful moment where Crocodile woke up and pandered to Doflamingo, lying in order to make him feel good. It was a fantastic sight: Crocodile's harsh stare losing against the eagerness of Doflamingo's. Crocodile's pride dwindling when faced against Doflamingo's willingness to please; his simple desire to see Crocodile smile back. The memory ended with a stiff thanks, Crocodile destroying the hat in his sweaty palms, and Doflamingo desiring for more.

Doflamingo did not consider himself a dreamer, rather a man who invested heavily in achieving the impossible. It was true that he allowed himself to place Crocodile on a pedestal, but mistakes were bound to happen. Where they began and ended, and with whom, was an issue for another day, one where he wasn't about to face certain death. But Doflamingo knew somewhere in the planning he twisted the memories, reworked them to favor himself, to keep him from giving up on his goal. Without a goal what was he? Another pathetic human dragging baggage filled with past mistakes. Never! How infuriating!

The goal was to have Crocodile, was it not? What about past mistakes? Watching a line of cars racing forward, it was getting harder to be exact. Knowing he only had a few seconds left to decide for himself, Doflamingo scrambled to put his answer together and realized he should give back what he took from Crocodile all those years ago. With everything about to go topsy-turvy, it was the very least he could do.

Doflamingo cocked his head over and saw Crocodile staring right at him. He could make out the quiver of dilated pupils overflowing with a desire to survive, to make it through this impossible event. He saw Crocodile clinging to solidarity behind the rock, contemplating whether or not to…to fight? Yes, that was it. Doflamingo could see a flicker of that violent nature, the brilliant flame that would ignite the inner passions of the man and bring out the absolute worst in him. The sadist. The torturer. Doflamingo's tongue grazed in the tips of his bottom teeth as he envisioned what Crocodile might do next; what sort of hellfire would take place?

"Doflamingo…" and then silence. Then worse, the look of doubt. Doflamingo could see it Crocodile's eyes. The man was starting to overthink, to question his very motives. Crocodile had to stop doing that. Sometimes the best actions were nothing more than a twitch f the muscles, a spasm, a flicker of the reflexes.

Give it back to him, Doflamingo concluded. You're not going to have him any other way. Better to leave him intact for another day.

He could not wait for Crocodile's permission. Doflamingo stood up from the car, the palms of his hands wrinkled with cold sweat. "I'm doing you one hell of a favor, Croco," he muttered through his labored breath. His words didn't make it halfway through the sound of billowing cars. Using the rest of the strength he had, Doflamingo jumped into the driver's seat. He hissed a swear through his closed teeth, vision blurring and world spinning, the rest of his body feeling as thought it hit a wall at high speed. Under the wild, colorful nets of pain, Doflamingo saw the keys resting in the ignition. Doflamingo knew he didn't' have much time before Crocodile fell into a panic. But there were still the cars to worry about! Doflamingo snatched Crocodile's coat and threw it over his shoulders. The wind carried the smell of something rustic, bloody, mixed with the smell of sweat, adrenaline and fancy cologne.

There wasn't time enjoy the flavors. Doflamingo sat upright as best he could, looked over and saw Crocodile peering up at him. His mouth was not quite agape, fingers nervously clenching the gun, which was pressed hard against the top of a large rock. Doflamingo's heart went a flutter when he turned the ignition on, watching Crocodile's eyes light up with rage. Oh, but Crocodile would never understand, this was for his own good.

"So long," Doflamingo said, raising his hand high before letting it fall into the worn leather interior. Doflamingo slammed on the pedal and drove forward, a maniacal smile burned across his face as he leaned forward, dipping his head down to avoid the gunshots behind him. Crocodile was pissed.

One day he'll understand. Doflamingo clenched the steering wheel, feeling his eyes water and his heart race alongside the speedometer. The heat surrounding dissipated, and his headache cleared. His body was as light as a feather, and the sleeves of Crocodile's heavy coats were wings fluttering in the wind. He was king of the goddamn desert. Doflamingo coughed out a horse, wet laugh and stared into the sky, letting memories from another universe claim him before he turned the wheel.

When did things go wrong? Was this really going to make things right?

It was a sharp and drastic turn. He didn't have to open his eyes to know the cars were chasing after him. Still, Doflamingo peered at the rear view mirror, curious that he might catch a glance of Crocodile peeking behind that rock. Was Crocodile aware this wasn't just his story, that they were destined or doomed to share this hectic world together, for all time? So many thoughts persisted across Doflamingo's mind, all of them left to be unanswered. There was no time for answers, no time to mourn. With that final thought of acceptance, Doflamingo made yet another sharp turn, spinning the car around and breaking away from the road. Wherever Spider Café might be, Doflamingo knew Crocodile would reach it. He wanted Crocodile to live to see another day, regain his strength, and fix whatever pre-conceptualized ideas he had about manhood.

Until then… We'll finish this game later.

Somewhere, perhaps in another universe, a different decision was made.