Work Text:
This wasn’t the first time Bentham had faced down his doom.
His life should have ended a dozen times before now. He knew that better than anyone. That he’d survived with Baroque Works until the end was a proper miracle, and being sent to Impel Down had felt like it was intended as a prolonged execution more than an imprisonment.
And then there was his devil fruit -- the powers of the mane mane no mi would not turn you into a combat god or grant you impossible power, but it was an ability that anyone could understand and use for all manner of underhanded things -- and that made him a target for a certain group of people. After all, no one else could get the ability while he still lived.
He knew the guards and the other prisoners didn’t understand why he wouldn’t lose hope. Why he didn’t slump in the corner of his cell, waiting for death. But he didn’t understand why they would. How they could.
As long as his heart was beating like a drum in his chest, then he knew he had more to do. More battles to fight. More friends to help.
The only way to stop him would be to stop the drums.
Across the makeshift battlefield, Magellan glared at him. Bentham thought with a grin that he could say there was venom in the look.
He thought Luffy would have appreciated the joke. Such a grand friend was definitely thinking of him fondly as they sailed through the gates.
He was glad he hadn’t let Straw Hat know what he was planning. He’d have tried to find another way, and there was no time for even a moment’s hesitation. If Luffy was going to make it in time to save his brother he couldn’t waste time with either doors or wardens.
And if his friend Bentham could clear the way for him to get there faster, there was absolutely no question. He’d do it. He’d do it a dozen times. A thousand.
He’d do it until the drums stopped pounding.
Magellan was angry -- Bentham wasn’t entirely sure how this fight would end. He might beat the warden. Far more likely, a cell waited for him -- perhaps a worse one than before. Assuming he lived through it. But if this was the end, what a glorious drama.
Would he survive? That was a question for after.
With a grin, he threw himself into the fray.