153 Thatch Awakens.

A small groan escaped Thatch's parched lips as he opened his eyes. The light all around seemed to overwhelm him as he flinched. Memories of the events that had played out quickly ran through his mind. First his fight with Borsolino, then his motivations for it.

Instantly he sat up, sparks of pain shooting through his torso. All to soon his condition made itself known to him, a massive collection of bandages all over his body as a small bandana like piece of cloth was tied across his crown.

His usually exuberant pompadour hair sat slumped over his forehead as his dishevelled beard covered his chin.

With careful eyes, he looked around, taking in his surroundings. He had been placed atop comfortable bed, white sheets splayed to the side. A thick smell of medicine wafted through the air as a chilling draft entered from the sandy brown door's base.

Though the door was shut tight, he could still hear the faint mumbled from outside.

With a small moan of pain the man got to his feet, most of his clothes had been removed with his white pants being replaced by the more greyed black ones that he wore. A spike of pain shot through his head, and with his wealth of experience, he was aware that it was not because of a concussion.

With drawn out and staggered steps he walked to the door, pushing it open.

Instantly he was aware of where he was. It was within his ship's infirmary. His taut muscles relaxed noticeably as he looked to the centre of the small circular room. A single table sat there with a man passed out over its surface.

A familiar head of hair greeted him as he stared at the silently snoring figure. It was Marco, though now he had replaced his attention catching purple coat for a more subdued white, a single stethoscope draped over his neck.

With a rueful smile, Thatch moved forward, and though his expression remained joyful, a small jolt of hurry ran through his system. Now that his status was all but confirmed he was beginning to worry about everyone else that had accompanied him.

With a silent jerk on his friend's shoulder, he woke up the pineapple headed man.

With a twitch Marco awoke, his face instantly twisting into a grumpy grimace as he looked at the man that had woken him up. The expression however promptly fell away as he jolted to his feet.

"Thatch, you aren't even supposed to be out of bed!" he whispered admonishingly as he tugged the man towards the recently vacated room.

"What happened?" Thatch asked, promptly skipping over his crewmate's command.

Thatch all but ignored him as he continued to look at Marco, at the mention of the absence of casualties he had relaxed a bit, nonetheless his face still held a serious expression.

"What about Jagged Dagger and his crew?" he asked, and here Marco could hear a trace of pleading.

"Alive the lot of them, the two that we discovered at the scene stabilized a day ago. In fact one of them even woke up close to an hour back, they're resting." Marco said, patiently explaining the entire situation as he pointed over to the other two rooms at the different corners.

A sigh of relief instantly flopped through Thatch's mouth as he finally allowed himself to fall back onto his bed, a genuine smile stretching across his face.

Marco glanced at him as he sat down at his bedside, "You ok there? What brought this on? Is it the kid?" he asked as he remembered his friend's violent reaction to the prone form of a certain brat.

Thatch looked at him as pure undiluted joy began to appear on his face, "Remember back when I'd returned to the crew a few months back, close to a year now that I think about it.," he asked.

Marco nodded with a quizzical look. "Yup I remember, you came back sort of out of it, demanding for a personal meeting with pops in fact. When you got out, pops was kinda pissed. The crew've been thinking that had something to do with the whole embargo over this part of the line and on Sabaody. I heard that he'd ordered the lads to be more antagonistic to the dragon bastards then usual too."

"Yup, that was something he did after he heard my story. After all, how pissed is a grandfather going to be when he hears that his daughter-in-law was shot dead, and the man that did it also might have caused the death of his grandson." and here Marco felt his face pale as he shot a look to the room on the right.

*******

With a dull thud, Shanks leapt onto the shore. He could see, pieces of shrapnel dug into the ground with huge gashes that went quite deep into the soft sands of the beach.

A whole massive crater of glass glinted in the sunlight, black residue all over the side of the gaping hole as a thick smell of burnt wood met his nose.

His face soured slightly as he made his way forward, a massive chunk of the familiar forest having been burned to their stumps, glared back at him, evidence to the battle that the place had sustained.

Yasopp glanced over as worry coloured his face; he did not want to lose a friend even before they met. With a small stare, he walked forward, landing to Beckman's side. His face scrunching up at the horrid smell.

"Let's go, if there was an actual issue to the town or the Whitebeards then the old man would be up in arms... Moreover, seeing, as those lads seemed to have landed here, they should be relatively safe too. "

The Red Hair pirates all disembarked silently as they began to weave into the deforested copse. Their ship bobbing silently on the shore as the sound of the News Coos sounded behind them.