Sabo was no stranger to physical work. When he lived on Goa Island with Ace and Luffy, they had hunted for themselves and even built a tree-house. In the Revolutionary Army, Sabo worked to maintain that strength, and build it up so he could be as strong as he needed to be.

Considering that liberating kingdoms was one of his favorite pastimes, he needed to be very strong.

He glared ahead of him, sweat - and blood - dripping down his forehead as he gripped the rod. The other men around him staggered forward, pushing and pushing for the Celestial Dragon's luxuries they took for granted.

Their job? To push, push, and keep pushing. The rod that Sabo was currently pushing was linked to a belt. The belt ran all the way through Mariejois so Celestial Dragons could simply ride their way through their kingdom, and not walk like "peasants".

He was seriously doubting they could wipe their own asses.

Whenever the belt was triggered, the taskmasters would ready their whips and crack them against the slaves' backs. They hardly got a break, and when they did, they were used to carry items to and fro storage units.

Sabo, however, had the taskmaster's ire, so he never even got the pseudo-break. He just pushed. And pushed. And pushed.

He vaguely wondered how much the entertainment of pulling was worth - it would cause a ruckus (he almost smiled imagining it) but he knew he'd be beaten every inch if he dared so much as to even step out of line.

"Chief," the taskmaster specifically assigned to himself sneered. They'd taken to using his title as a mockery - to rub it in that he wasn't free and couldn't do anything about it. "What, you not happy working here? You too good, Mr. Revolutionary? And here you are, lucky enough to be working here."

Sabo gritted his teeth, choosing not to answer. Besides, he knew that regardless the taskmaster would punish him.

A moment later, Sabo was proven right. "Smile, dammit!" the taskmaster growled, and he heard the crack of the whip before he felt its sting.

He hissed and stumbled forwards, the other men pushing keeping their eyes firmly away from the scene. No one wanted trouble - well, more trouble - and he was its epitome.

When he had first been shoved into the underground room, the other captives had been hesitant. After Sabo had been brutally beaten by the taskmaster as an introduction, one of the slaves had approached him as they were allowed to have a painfully short time to sleep.

"You're a revolutionary, right?" the man had asked.

Sabo had looked up at him as he rested against the wall - his back stung from the cuts from the whips, but it felt good not to be on his feet. "I am."

The man shared a look with one of he other slaves. "And do you have a plan to get us out of here? You must have a plan," he insisted. "You revolutionaries are always pulling stunts like this."

He looked at them, then looked at their food. The taskmasters had decided that Sabo didn't work "hard enough" and thus didn't deserve food. His stomach grumbled. "Sorry," Sabo said. "No escape plans right now, check again later."

The man's lip curled, a sudden fury ignited. "Then what good are you revolutionaries, huh? You all think you're so high and mighty, don't you? Fighting for your 'greater good' while the rest of us suffer down here!"

The man was yelling now, and Sabo just sat there, looking at the man, the same rage burning. Sabo almost told the man that Sabo himself was in the same boat - the mark on his chest (that awful mark) attested to that.

"Hey, what's the racket down here?" the taskmaster appeared from the shadows, a glint in his eye. The slaves around them scattered. "Is Chief causing trouble again?"

So Sabo got another beating - he thought another rib cracked, but he was already so injured that he wondered how much more his ribs could even take.

In the morning - or when they were next forced to push - the man who had confronted him was gone, and the taskmaster's temper had risen and used his whip more often than not that shift. Especially, of course, on Sabo. None of the other slaves even looked at him after that.

And of course there was the smiling - even through the torture, and the ceaseless work, they were expected to smile as if they were glad to be slaves.

Sabo had been inclined to think that it was a load of crap.

When he was first given the order, Sabo had just stared at them, and got another whipping.

The next time he was told to smile, he gave them his most 'devil-may-care' smile. The smirk that made his enemies tremble in fear, and promised trouble. That had not been well received either.

If Koala had been there, she would've told him to stop, and to keep his head down. Give them what they wanted, for now - it means nothing. But she wasn't, and he was glad. He didn't know what exactly she experienced in the hell-hole, but if it was anything like the situation he was in, he didn't want her anywhere near Mariejois. Had she been forced to smile while being brutally beaten? While not being able to trust anyone?

She had endured it for years - and still she was the strongest and smartest person he knew. She was able to smile with joy instead of some false imitation out of fear. He'd already respected her, but now he started to understand just how brave she was.

I have to stay alive, he thought. To tell her so.

So finally, he began using a smile that had no soul, or life. But it was the damned smile they asked for. (Only when they were looking, of course. When they weren't, he smirked, the fury in his eyes always blazing. And he sometimes got called out on it, but it was almost therapeutic to smirk when the taskmasters weren't looking. He didn't belong to them - or anyone. He would do whatever the hell he wanted.)

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but eventually, he was fetched from the underground room. He was led into some building, which was all too familiar to him. The auction house.

Apparently, he was being rented out.

The next people that bought him did not send him into the underground room. Instead, he was bought by a couple.

The Celestial Dragons had one of their thugs lead him into their castle of residence, and Sabo had the urge to be sick. Everything was so clean, white, and pure - the complete opposite of the hell that he'd lived in.

Of course, just because they looked like opposites didn't mean that it wasn't hell.

The couple left him with the head-slave without a second thought, who in turn led him to a small room. It was dark, but he noticed right away that there were blankets, and - a little boy, smiling up at them. That lifeless smile.....

"Now," the head slave began. "You are to help in the kitchens when you are not needed. Our lord and lady, however, host evening dinners. You are to make an appearance and use your Devil Fruit."

"What, you just want me to combust in flames?" Sabo scoffed, resisting the urge to tug at his collar. "This is seastone, no one will be seeing any fire anytime soon."

With an impassive face, the head slave walked towards him and - with a startling ferocity slammed the child, who couldn't have been older than five years old, against the wall. Sabo was sure he'd heard something snap. "Hey!" Sabo shouted, unable to help himself. "What the hell do you think you're -"

"Talk back," the head slave interrupted, face blank. "The child gets beaten. Disobey, the child gets beaten. During the dinners, your collar will be removed for a brief time. However, if you make any movement, the child will die. Am I clear?"

Sabo stared at the man. The dinner would be an opportune time to escape, but....the child's blood would be on his hands. He gritted his teeth. And there was no guarantee that he would escape. "Yes sir," he ground out.

The head slave flicked his eyes over to Sabo. "Good. The head chef will be here later, and you will work until I come for you," he said, turning to leave. "And remember to smile."

The door clicked shut, and the two of them were left in darkness, besides the tiny slivers of light reaching through the bars at the top of the wooden door.

The child stared at him smiling. But Sabo noticed how the child pressed himself far away from him, the child pressing himself into the corner of the room.

Sabo himself took a seat gingerly as to not upset his wounds. "Look," he said hesitantly. He wasn't the best with kids, usually. According to Koala, he was too "gung-ho" about basically everything. The one reason he was actually able to interact with the mink kid from the first auction was because it was an extreme circumstance, and also he was keeping himself distracted. "I won't hurt you." he said.

The boy just smiled at him, and Sabo sighed, resigning himself to his own thoughts. He could've invented another game, but he was just too tired for that.

Eventually, someone came into the room and led him to the kitchens where he helped prepare dinner. Everything had to be quick and concise. He thanked Dragon for making him assist in the kitchens back when he was younger - those skills helped on missions, and they helped now as well.

The room fell into a hush of plastered smiles, and Sabo noticed right away that the head slave had entered.

All he said was, "Come."

So Sabo came. Once out of the kitchens, the head slave took a key out from his pocket. Briefly he wondered if the slave had the other keys, or just his. And if it was just his, did the slave carry it all the time, or just for this moment.

The man unlocked Sabo's collar and took it off his neck. He had the sudden urge to take a gasp of air, but resisted. The weight from his neck, lifted. And with a sudden joy, he realized that he could feel the fire again. Ace's fire.

It took Sabo a second to figure out the head slave was talking. "You will go into the dinning room and stand in the middle of the table. You will not move. You will not speak. You will simply be fire. And obey the masters."

Sabo nodded, half-listening to the man, still enraptured by finally being able to feel the fire again.

The head slave opened the door, which led to the dinning room. It had a huge round table, hollow in the middle. The head slave lifted a portion of the table, which opened like a door, allowing Sabo into the middle.

The head slave closed the opening. "Do not disappoint the masters." the man said, leaving.

As much as he would've liked to believe he was alone, the Den-Den Mushi in the corner of the room said otherwise. Still, it was the closest to alone he's ever gotten.

Hearing footsteps outside, Sabo lit himself up in flame - the outline of his form couldn't even be seen, he was just a pillar of fire. He didn't even have to 'smile' - no one would know, and no one would see his rage as the Celestial Dragons walked in.

"- got a wonderful specimen, a Devil Fruit eater," said the woman in the front, leading her guests. She had been one of the Celestial Dragons that won the auction. "Yes, he apparently is fire. It makes for wonderful decor."

There were gasps as the other Celestial Dragons saw his burning form.

"Ah, yes, what a lovely decoration you have obtained," one of the Celestial Dragons mused. "I wish I could've bought him, but we're saving up for a mermaid."

Sabo clenched his fists, and his fire flickered. He froze, willing the fire to calm down reluctantly. He'd only had Ace's power for a short time, and hadn't been given that long to master it. In fact, he still didn't have complete control over it, as it tended to mirror his emotions, which was mostly rage.

He could already tell that the dinner was not going to go well.

They chattered with their annoying accents, and their ridiculous clothes, and talked absurdly proud of their own "achievements", which Sabo thought very, very little of. All at once he was hit by a ridiculous amount of pride towards Luffy - he had punched a Celestial Dragon in the face. He longed to do the same, and promised to himself - soon. Sometime soon, he would indulge himself in that particular endeavor.

"Do a trick for us."

Sabo blinked.

"Is your slave dumb?" the Celestial Dragon asked. "Do a trick."

He pursed his lips. He was talking about Sabo. A trick....He could not afford to mess it up. Slowly, three balls of fire departed from his pillar and floated around at a safe distance. Or, what he had thought was safe.

One of the Celestial Dragon's leaned towards a ball of fire suddenly, the ball of fire just touching the woman's hair.

But that was all it needed to catch. It was just a little bit of fire, but the woman screamed and screamed as if she were being drawn and quartered, which caused the other Celestial Dragon's to either start screaming as well, or to watch indignantly.

"Quick, put it out!"

"How dare that fire harm a Celestial Dragon!"

"Someone punish that slave!"

But it was her fault! Sabo protested inwardly.

The doors to the kitchen opened and the head slave himself came into the room with a fire blanket ready. Behind him was a thug. Sabo's collar was in his hands.

Sabo froze up, not able to take another breath. That collar - he couldn't put that thing back on. He didn't want it, it would take away the fire, it would take away Ace -

The collar snapped on, and before he knew it the thug was tugging Sabo out of the room, the head slave patting the fire out with an eerily calm look on his face. The two of them hurried through the small passages meant for slaves, reemerging in the hallway of the slave's quarters.

Tugging Sabo along, the thug tossed Sabo into the room. In-taking a sharp breath as he landed roughly on his arm, Sabo let his eyes adjust to the lack of light.

He almost wished he didn't as he stared in horror at the remains of the child. Blood splattered the walls and floor, gore everywhere. The body of the child was still huddled against the wall, but the boy's collar had fallen to the floor, soaked in blood.

Sabo heaved up the meager contents in his stomach, and kept retching though there was nothing left to retch.

It was is fault. The child was dead because of him.

"I'm sorry," he coarsely murmured. "I'm sorry."

Hours - or minutes - passed when the door finally opened. A slave entered. She didn't look at Sabo, and he couldn't bring himself to look at her. The body was removed, and the slave scrubbed at the blood that had sunk into the stone until it was like the boy had never been there in the first place.

The slave departed, and Sabo was left alone.

His next 'visitor' was the head slave. The man opened the door further, letting in a six year old girl, collar around her neck.

"Remember to smile."

Yeah, right, Sabo wanted to snarl. Instead, he summoned forth his lifeless imitation of a smile, something that had once meant joy.

The child stared at him. He forced himself to meet her gaze. "I won't let them harm you. I won't mess up. I swear it."

She just smiled at him.

It continued on like that for a month. Every night, he was called out to dinner (he noticed that the woman who had caught on fire did not appear again) and made sure that he was prepared for anything and everything. He locked down his emotions - his burning anger became frosty and bid its time. And every night he allowed himself to be re-collared. He made sure that his reflexes were sharp, so there would be no more repeats of the first night.

He would not allow it.

When his time was up, he didn't know whether or not he was relieved. He decided on not - getting his hopes up in hell was a bad idea.

The next person who won the bidding was some buffoon named Saint Charlos. Dimly, he realized that this was one of the nobles who Luffy punched. To his surprise, the little girl that had been used to keep him in check was sold alongside him, as a package deal.

It didn't bode well for him, or her.

Saint Charlos surveyed him, an ugly sneer on his lips. "Put a saddle on him. He looks like a twig, and I don't want to fall off."

Wha -

A thug grabbed at him, fingers digging painfully into his shoulders as something was forced onto him. Finished, Sabo was thrown to the floor.

He tried to blink away the dirt in his eyes when he saw the foot. It slammed directly into his face, causing him to cry out. A snap echoed in his ears. His nose had probably been broken.

"-get up," the Celestial Dragon was saying. "I want to ride you home, so get up."

Sabo looked at the man. Not glaring, exactly, but it was something colder.

Saint Charlos narrowed his eyes at Sabo and withdrew something from his pocket. "Or would you rather I blow the human's head off now?"

The girl squeaked, face frozen in a smile, but her eyes had so much fear in them.

And his rage flared back up, so much so that he thought it might have consumed him. If that blasted collar were off, he was sure that he would've burned the entire building down based on his hatred alone.

Yet slowly got to his hands and knees, almost buckling when the Celestial Dragon put his full body weight on him.

"Eh, not the best ride I've had. Kuma was so much better," Saint Charlos said. "But you'll do - after all, it's not every day you get to us the second-in-command of the pathetic Revolutionary Army as transportation!"