Small. [child!Kid and Killer + reader]

1

Part 1 of 2 for my 2K special!

This is a thank you for all of you! <3

(You don't need to read any previous story of mine to enjoy this one)

(For people who know birdie: in this what if scenario, she's officially part of the crew)
Not canon for the Captive continuity.

As this story does not strictly adhere to canon, Bonney here is officially an ADULT.

«Are you trying to scam me?»

The vendor's smile fell slightly at your pointed remark, the corner of his mouth vaguely twitching before he adjusted his plastic face.

«Not at all, miss, this is the herb you asked for.»

Your sharp eyes lowered on the dried product the man was offering.

Damn, I wish I could tell.

The doctor did all one could to make sure you got it right, but still, he should have brought his ass down the ship and bought the stuff himself.

A quiet huff escaped your lips and you grabbed the sack from the vendor's hands.

«I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. If our doctor tells me that's not it, well... you'll only have yourself to blame.»

His fake smile didn't falter this time as he tilted his head to the side.

«Miss, this is John's Dockyard. You wouldn't imagine how many threats I receive on a daily basis, yet I'm still here.»

«I'm with the Kid Pirates.» you casually informed, dropping the money on the counter before heading to the exit.

«W-Wait, what did you just s--»

The door closed behind you and you winced lightly at the sun-soaked square.

The port was lively that afternoon, with pirates, prostitutes and scoundrels loudly moving across town in every direction. Vending stands crowded the dusty streets, so the salty air was heavy with the yells of sellers advertising their stuff. Every time a door of the numerous pubs opened, whiffs of alcohol and vomit merged with the already smell-pregnant environment.

You made your way towards the innards of the port, passing by brawls, and beggars, and tone-deaf musicians.

Whistles and coarse appreciations trailed your steps, but you hardly heard them anymore. You had learnt to distinguish potential threats, and the two pistols hanging from each side of your belt were an invitation for trouble.

The best deterrent though was still your face.

Recently slammed on a freshly-printed bounty poster, your features were an allure only for the few idiots who didn't recognise you as the sniper of the Kid Pirates.

You stopped at a crossroad and glanced at the buildings and the garbage piled at the corner of the street.

«Damn, am I lost again?»

Yeah, good sniping skills, but terrible sense of direction.

«Y/n!»

You frowned as someone scream-whispered your name.

«This way!»

A small, thin arm stuck from behind a couple of barrels and gestured at you.

A kid?

«Listen, I don't have food nor money with me.» you grumbled, without moving from your spot «You and your little gang try to pick my pockets, I'm gonna throw you in the sea.»