When it happened, they had all been far away - too far. They had all been busy with weather and wounds and battles and danger. But they could never be so far away as to be off each other's minds. They were linked, intertwined, connected. And at the center of all they were - Luffy.
They could never be so far away as to go unmoved and untouched when his world shattered.
In the middle of everything - snow and ice, pain, music, hunger, everything - there had been that one moment. Like a cold night wind on a bare neck. Like ice wrapping around the heart. Like diving into a frozen river. Like all the darkness and emptiness that had been filled by light and laughter suddenly gaping open right there, in that one moment.
Because they were one, and because they all knew - knew - what he went through, their captain's scream oceans away had cut through them - a broken second of unexplained unease; a blinding shadow flitting across the noonday sun; a shiver.
They exchanged only a few words about it, but the simple fact that none of them felt the need to ask their fellows what this sudden change of atmosphere was all about was confirmation enough. They had all caught the echo of that scream; and all been helpless to catch their captain when he fell.
No wonder he came back to a party turned funereal - he stopped and cocked his head at them. Three roasted chickens Sanji had been saving for later tangled from one hand. His other clutched the corner of something huge and gaudy and magnificently colored and rather overwhelmingly fluffy.
"You guys really were falling asleep! I knew it!" He hooked the chickens to his pants, totally ignoring the look of abject horror on Sanji's face at his treatment of previously delicious and eatable ingredients, and used both hands to fling his burden at them.
It flopped through the air, unfolding rather gracelessly and landing with such a soft thud it seemed to absorb more sound than it made. It caught some of them half under it, others wholly.
There was some muffled cursing and scuffling and a couple of minutes of tangled limbs and people coming up for air panting and then glaring at the grinning Luffy.
He answered the chorus of annoyed, astounded and amused questions with a shrug. "Hancock gave this comfy cover-thingie to me but it's way to big for my bed and you guys were talking about the wind so I went to get it."
A pause. Guilty glances. How much had he heard? Had he realized...?
"And you all fit under it so it's perfect," Luffy declared with a grin, and stuffed a chicken in his mouth.
The warmth that chased their chills away was helped along by the giant royal duvet, of course, but after seeing Luffy smile they could have been knee-deep in still-falling snow and still felt warm.
They'd all put the past behind them once themselves. They could do it again, for him.
Also, having to pound him on the back to dislodge chicken bones from his throat proved quite an excellent distraction.
With life thus going on as it had before, they could laugh softly or curse loudly or just fall asleep and snore, content under the cover and in the knowledge that they were together, and no ill winds could reach them now.
They hadn't all reflected on it; hadn't even all remembered it until it came up one late one night after the music had faded out and their captain had gone in search of his fifty-third seconds.
The Sunny was drifting peacefully, Nami's maps and measurements having set them adrift on a slow, deep current. They were leaving the mild sweetness of a spring island behind, and the breeze that whispered through the grass brought the crisp scent of frost.
Usopp shivered, and mumbled, "The cold wind brings ill tidings."
Chopper next to him blinked. The reindeer's nostrils were wide, and until Usopp had spoken, he had been getting intoxicated on the sublime purity and blessed cool that only a winter island wind could bring. "Really?" He sounded alarmed, then dejected. "But it smells so nice..."
Nami got away with ruffling the fur on his shoulder by squashing her ever-present urge to go wah, fluffy and pretending to clap it sympathetically. "Don't worry about the wind, Chopper. It's fine."
Chopper brightened instantly. If Nami okayed the wind, there could be nothing wrong with it!
"Except it felt way too much like..." Usopp cut himself off, which brought most of the crew out of their comfortable half doze. Usopp, stopping himself from talking? There was a moment when the rest of them were clearly not asking him what was wrong, and then another moment when Usopp figured out what they were all thinking and started stammering something he'd just made up (which means to say, it was a brilliant tapestry of words that would deflect all attention away from that awkward slip of tongue that he'd never make again because they did not need to talk about this) - and then Robin spoke.
"Usopp is right. This sudden chill - it's the same feeling as dark and terrible news waiting to arrive."
And with that they were all thoroughly unnerved. Robin smiled at them. Chopper and Brook edged closer together, until they could draw strength from each other.
Zoro recovered quickly, of course. "Get a blanket," he suggested dryly.
Sanji kicked him, mostly out of habit, but it lacked a bit of spirit, and Zoro didn't even bother to retaliate.
Brook, one arm around Chopper, shook his head. "No, no mere blanket could drive away the kind of cold Miss Robin speaks of. It gives me goosebumps to remember -- ah, but I have no skin that can get bumpy!"
"Remember what?" Chopper looked up at the skeleton with wide eyes, all enjoyment he'd found in all those smells that spoke of home totally gone away. Because - because he thought he might know.
Robin tilted her head to the side a fraction, thoughtful. "I suspected I wasn't the only one..."
Nami pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Franky was uncharacteristically silent, sprawled on his back where he had been stargazing.