Work Text:
Garp chuckled lowly as little Ann and Ace wailed their lungs out. Their small fists pounded against his chest as he walked.
They were determined little tykes, that was for sure. They would surely grow up to be strong marines, absolutely no funny business, unlike their parents.
He let out a loud, booming laugh at the thought of his new, adorable grandchildren older and all dressed up in white and blue. But then he sobered as he thought of a man he could have considered a friend, were it not for their differences in views and occupation. A man who was killed.
A man whose children were held safely and securely in his arms.
These children (just kids, Sengoku, why would you do this) would be so valuable to the government, that if they were discovered, they wouldn't be killed. They wouldn't be killed for being the Pirate King's offspring.
These kids wouldn't die. (He hated how fake his thoughts sounded to him. He was in denial, in denial about being in denial. How ridiculous)
Garp thought of Roger and Rouge, of how they died because of the lives they led. Their kids, his grandkids, wouldn't die because of such things.
Garp forcibly moved his thoughts away from his grandchildren's death sentences.
Everything will be fine. What was he even thinking about? (It won't and you know it, naive old man)
Instead, he turned his thoughts to his wonderful grandson and granddaughter. They would need training to become such good marines, discipline too, of which he had plenty to give.
He laughed a great, booming laugh once again. (It sounded hollow even to his ears, half deaf as he was from the constant sounds of cannon fire)
Everything would be fine.