After two weeks of exercising with Hip and Emma, and working on your fine detail rehab with Eustass and Killer, you were doing pretty good all things considered. The only issue that was still looming was Vander Decken.

Coby had been officially barred from looking into Decken and had called to inform you a few days earlier. He apologized for not having more information, but he still had his own connections looking, and the only thing he could say was that Decken was dealing with his own issues. Coby had said that as far as he could tell someone was keeping Decken from keeping his feet under him, and so he was moving around the city.

Not enough to stop him from sending things in your direction, but enough to stop the barrage from being more brutal or focused than it was.

What concerned you was that there weren't any signs among Eustass or his crew to say that they were what was keeping Decken off-balance. Besides, if Kid was getting close enough to knock the stalker off his game he would just kill him. You were, at this point, completely certain of that.

You weren't comfortable with how comfortable you were about being okay with it either. Especially because you were quite certain you wouldn't be part of a murder investigation if it happened. Decken's money and assets were protecting him, but Eustass Kid and his crew weren't poor either, and you were sure there was plenty of potential ability this crew had that you still weren't aware of. Chances were you'd never know their full potential, or the number of skeletons in their closets, unless you joined the crew.

It had been two and a half months of being protected by Kid and his crew. You move the fingers of your prosthetic as you muse about the idea of just... staying. You could imagine your mother's reaction and felt a little guilty about considering the idea of it, but you were going to have to decide soon, with the way things were going.

Stretching you roll out of the wonderfully big bed and land onto the cold floor. Your time with Hip is paying off – you're sore, but not in pain, and you've been able to run a mile in just under 10 minutes, which is a bit better than the average. You weren't going to win marathons or start competing in the Olympics, but you weren't going to be easy to catch either.

You didn't have much time to consider your improvement as an all too familiar sound caught your attention, and you looked over to see a large battle axe headed toward your window. It was larger than anything you'd seen so far, but the sound of it slicing through the air was a terribly familiar noise at this point. It was like someone had taken the propeller off a helicopter and tossed it in your direction.

You're running for the door barefoot and are immensely grateful that your pajamas are practically clothes as is. Not that you would've been able to do much about it if you had slept in frills or the nude – you couldn't stay in your room long enough to grab anything.

You twist the knob and throw the door open as the battle axe crashes through the window, knocking itself off course from the impact and sending glass into the room. The axe wasn't going to be an issue anymore, you'd learned that the items coming for you wouldn't keep trying, once they hit something they were done. The problem was it was never just one item, and this was the first-time things had come so early in the day that you were still inside the house.

"KID! KILLER!" You yell as you came out into the hallway. There was a terrible shower of impacts coming into your room, and there wasn't anyplace on the top floor that didn't have windows. You heard another window shatter and ducked down instinctively from the sound. The feeling of something flying over your head nearly made your heart stop, but you couldn't stay put.

You were moving toward Kid's room when his doors opened. A sharp sting in your leg trips you up and you tumble into the floor. The sting burned red hot, and you realize from the sound of things whizzing by what was going on. Killer realizes it as well.

"He's throwing bullets, Kid!" Killer yells.

"Motherfucker!" Kid roars as he stands in front you.

"What in the hells are you doing?!" You yell. "You're not bullet-proof you -."

Words die on your lips as a strange energy hums around you. It's coming from Kid, you can see the crackle of energy around him as the metal items in the area are pushed back. As the field expands you can see the barrage of bullets slow and turn and get repelled by the field around him.

"Heal your leg, Mouse." Kid barks.

"I can't," you answer, even as your brain is reeling from all the new information about Kid coming into it. "It didn't go through; I can't heal around it."

"Killer, get House to the basement, I'll get Mouse there."

Killer was moving before Kid was even done talking. It was a marvel to see how fast he could move without restrictions. He was down the stairs and out of view before you could sort out the small problem you and Kid currently had.

"I can't walk."

"I know."

"Can you carry me and use your power?"

"Technically."

"... You'll rip the bullet out of me, won't you?"

"Probably. I ain't exactly a fine-control kind of guy, Mouse."

"Liar."

"It's not the same with this as with that!" He barks. "A magnetic field isn't a needle, it's a battering ram."

"Devil fruits have limits; you can't just stay up here bouncing away bullets all day!"

"Gonna be the fun way down, Mouse."

"The what-?"

The hum of energy in the air is gone and Kid moves almost as fast as Killer, scooping you up and leaping full off the 3rd floor, and right down the middle of the stair case that spirals up from the first floor. The crackling energy danced around you and you realized that Kid's descent was slowed just enough to avoid being bone shattering as metal-soled boots slammed into the floor.

You have a death grip on Kid's shirt as he moves toward the basement, and it takes you a minute to remember to breathe. There's the crack and pop of splintering wood, and the shattering sound of glass breaking that fills the air around you until Kid makes it below ground.

"It's not." You say, as the sounds of destruction are gone and it's just you, Kid, and your throbbing leg.

"Eh?"

"The fun way down," you insist, your body finally relaxing into Kid's as the adrenaline drains away from you.

"Pfft-hahaha!" Kid laughs as he sets you down on a bench. "You're something else, Mouse. Let me look at this leg."

You roll onto your stomach on the bench as Kid rolls up the blood-stained pant-leg.

"I think it went into the calf and hit bone," you say evenly. "It hurts, but after the neural connector surgery it doesn't hurt that bad."

"Adrenaline makes it easier to ignore too," Kid says. "House shouldn't have a problem getting the bullet out. Your healing can't push it out?"

You shake your head. "It's not a Devil fruit or magic. I can't heal an active wound and I can't heal when I'm unconscious."

"Active? You get a splinter in a wound and you can't heal it?"

"No idea," you admit. "I haven't gone about testing the line like that, but..." you sigh. "I was an angry kid. I was... maybe elven? My mom wouldn't tell me who my dad was, wouldn't explain why I could heal how I could heal or even really tell me why I needed to keep it secret. I was rebelling.

"Slammed a knife into my hand so hard I pinned myself to the table. Couldn't heal it. Mom had to pull the knife free cause I couldn't get the leverage. Healed right up after that."

"That's... extreme."

"What's dangerous to a young mind is skewed all to hell when you know you can heal," you admit, looking over your shoulder. "If I scarred, I'd have more than you."

Killer and House arrived a minute later, and the lady doctor went to work pulling the bullet out of your leg. Once it was out you healed up as quickly as usual.

House let out a low whistle. "That's quite the party trick."

"I've seen it before and it's still surreal." Killer admits.

"Mm." You sit up, but there's heavy words on your chest and you can't bring yourself to say them. The weight of your mood hits the air, and you feel like everyone else already knows.

It had been swirling around in your head since Kid repelled the bullets. It hadn't been the time to talk about it, but now there was nothing else in your mind to push it aside. You had learned a horrible truth and you didn't know what to do with it.

The only thing you could feel was a growing anger.

"Jika Jika no mi," you finally say. "The Devil Fruit of Magnetism."

"... Yeah, Mouse." It's just two words, but you know he knows what's going on in your head.

Your brows knit. "It's my job – it was my job, to know about Devil Fruits and maintain the registry records. I know about a lot of them, even if I wasn't an auditor or identifier, I know about a lot of them. I got curious because of Luffy's Fruit, and it just kind of went out from there."

"(Y/N)," Killer starts, stepping toward you.

"DON'T." You snap, anger on your face that even you weren't expecting, you were standing and while your eyes were on Killer you were pointing to Eustass. Pointing with your glass prosthetic hand. "I didn't have to lose my hand! He could've shoved my car aside! Could've slowed Beast!"

"Fuck! I might not have had to go to court over the initial crash, Decken wouldn't know I exist!" Your anger turns to tears, and you're just as mad that you're crying as you are at the realizations dawning on you. "Gods – FUCK!" You pull your left hand off when a growl and move to throw it into the ground, but half way through the motion you stop.

You stop, your arm in the air, your flesh fingers trembling against the prosthetic. You know what went into it. You know who made it. Who worked for hours without proper food or sleep for weeks to make sure it was done in time. Who stayed with you when you had your connector surgery. Who wanted to pay for all the medical bills. Who offered to kill for you, to keep you safe.

Lowering your arm, you look at the beautiful glass hand. It's sturdy, delicate, smooth, and technologically advanced. It's a work of art.

"Go away." Your voice is small. Everything hurts. Your heart, your hand, and your leg. "I can't go upstairs, so... all of you, just, go away."