Work Text:
It hadn't hurt.
He had been prepared to suffer unimaginable pain for his captain, but it hadn't hurt. When he had thrust his hands into the bubble of Luffy's expelled pain, he had been fully prepared to die. And he had been happy to die, as it would have meant that he had brought his captain one step further on his road to become the Pirate King.
But it hadn't hurt.
When the Shichibukai had given him a taste of Luffy's suffering, there had been exquisite pain. Those precious few, eternal seconds, when nothing but pure white-hot agony had existed, and being alive was just another term for torture – it was penance. If he had been strong enough he would have been more of assistance, could have kept his captain from getting hurt, could have defeated Oz on his own. But he was weak, and the pain was penance.
It should have been absolution. It should have freed him of the sin of failing his captain, repentance for not being strong enough, but--
It hadn't hurt.
Only the subconscious awareness of wounds, old and new, opening, blood flowing, painting his vision red. The distant acknowledgment of muscles screaming, the sound of bones breaking but still no pain.
It was betrayal.
His body and mind had betrayed him, and he had betrayed his captain.
It should have hurt.