Archive of Our Own

There are several things about Law that you need to know, but which he will never tell you. The most important one is this: 

A long time ago, Law had a little sister. Her name was Lammy. As all little sisters usually are, she was a piece of work. Whining, tantrums, forcing Law to spend his precious time playing dolls and house (as the dog, mind you), Lammy did not make Law's life easy for him. Often he would reminisce on what it was like, to be an only child, and to not have pink marker stains all over his favourite hat. But God, God, Law loved her as much as you could ever love someone. 

If the poison that flowed through her veins was something that Law could physically fight, he would have done whatever it took. He would have walked into hell for her armed with nothing but his father's scalpel and sheer, childish determination. After all, he was her big brother, and there’s very few things more precious than that kind of bond, that kind of knowledge that you have come first so that you can clear the path for the rest to follow.

“That Straw Hat kid is being too reckless,” someone murmurs. The crowd agrees without a second thought. 

“It’s his brother…” 

The man who’d spoken first snorts and spits. “Brother or not, do you really start a war with the Navy? He’s the second division captain of the Whitebeard Pirates! He’s evil incarnate!” 

Law has half a mind to cut him up and nail his dick to a tree. On the screen in front of him, Luffy raises his fist and slams through a dozen men. There’s a noticeable crease between the middle of his eyebrows, and a vein under his eye is twitching. Leaping into the air, he kicks a man so hard he sinks into the unyielding rock of Marineford’s walls and crumples to the ground. Law is reminded of his fist meeting the face of a Celestial Dragon with a satisfying crunch. He thinks of someone else’s face he’d like to see being met with a fist like that.

“Who’d want a brother like that?” A woman claps her hand over her mouth, voice shrill. “They’re demons!” 

On the execution platform, Ace pulls uselessly against his bonds, muscles bulging, face strained in what Law knows is misery, fear, and guilt. He has seen it on himself, in reflections on windowpanes, silhouetted against plumes of billowing smoke. “Don’t come!” Ace yells, voice hoarse with effort. His eyes are red and wet. Every word strikes Law through the chest like a bullet. “Go home! Don’t come!” 

The crowd is so silent that the sound of the resin bubbles popping are indistinguishable from the indiscriminate gunshots playing over the broadcast. 

“The kid’s going to die,” says someone else. 

Law hadn't realised it but his hands are shaking. He feels sick, like he might throw up. The world is spinning, and in his ears he can still hear Lammy’s laughter. It's a sound he's long forgotten. It feels like she’s watching him. 

His eyes are glued to Luffy. He looks terrible. With his bloodshot eyes and pupils blown out wide, there’s a manic sort of energy to the way that he moves that is completely different from how he behaved that day in Sabaody. Law chews on his bottom lip, wearing it chapped and ragged. If what he’d heard about the initial break-in at Impel Down was true, then Luffy has been on his feet, fighting, non-stop for several days. Either he's doped up or he's about to kick the bucket, but serious performance drugs aside, when he inevitably crashes he’ll be out for good. 

Luffy takes the hilt of a sword to the face like a champ, barely faltering in his mad dash towards the platform. The sounds of his screams are like nails on a chalkboard, dragging down your soul. Ace visibly flinches and his body tenses. He looks up, directly into the Snail. Wide, brown eyes, wet with desperation, fear, and...hope.

It’s like he’s looking at Law.

The world narrows to a single point.

All right. All right. He gets it. His fingers clench so tight he knows they’ll leave angry, red marks, if it doesn’t draw blood.

From one older brother to another. All right. 

Despite making it to Marineford in record-breaking time, he wishes he had somehow come sooner. His...well, his one-sided deal with Ace was to help save his little brother's life, but the obnoxious flying clown has handed him what is essentially a barely-breathing corpse. Leaning over his body, Law immediately has to turn his face to the side, coughing and choking on the acrid stench of burnt and melting flesh. The front of his chest is molten and red-hot, still smouldering and sputtering sparks. Through the angry red and cooling grey, Law can see straight through to his lungs. 

The gory, greasy doctor inside of him does a little leap with sick joy. After all, there's nothing like an impossible operation to really get his endorphins flowing. The Heart Pirates wheel Luffy down the corridors of the Tang, dabbing at his face as his eyes roll into the back of his head and he starts frothing at the mouth, muscles spasming. Law surveys him the whole time; chest wound aside, there’s also bone sticking out of him in weird places (bones that might or might not belong to him), several bullet wounds, no doubt infused with Haki, a multitude of deep slashes, cuts, scrapes and countless bruises. 

Law is rarely a sentimental man, but even his heart breaks at the broken body on his table. To have fought so hard, to think you’ve succeeded, and then to fail miserably right at the end: more than his physical condition, his mental state might never fully recover. He thinks of that goofy, silly young man who had greeted battle on Sabaody with a cheeky, all-encompassing grin. He realises Luffy might have never lost like this before in his entire life. 

“Room,” he says. The space he's in bubbles and shifts, gently rising to encompass them in his little sanctuary. Immediately, information floods into Law's mind and God, he doesn't know where to even begin. He just knows it'll take a long, long time. 

And it does. 

The deeper he goes into what makes Luffy...well, Luffy, the more horrified and excited he is. As Law suspected, he's on a cocktail of steroids, not that they are in any concentration or mixture that Law has ever seen, medically. He's irritatingly resistant to antibiotics, and, he finds, to most poisons. He suspects the Warden at Impel Down has had something to do with this, though he's not sure how. And of course: there’s not a single bit of unmarred flesh on his body. Often, he has to check that Luffy is still alive and he’s not just imagining it. 

He passes out for two days once he's gotten Luffy stable. According to Bepo, who is sitting by his side when he wakes up, he collapsed immediately after closing his Room and hit his head on a stainless steel tray. Not the most dignified of endings, but Luffy's too out of it to know and his crew has seen him worse. Once he's able to stand he wobbles into the recovery room to check on Luffy because, despite Shachi's best reassurances, he's still half-convinced he died while he was asleep. 

He finds Luffy crying. Completely unconscious, breathing only with the help of the ventilator, and yet he is crying. Big, wet tears roll down his cheeks, dampening his hair and pooling in his ears. His chest heaves, shaking painfully, stretching his stitches. Even over the steady drone and beeping of the machines Law can hear him mumble, "Ace." He calls out again, another word, voice garbled but hoarse, desperate. 

Law watches him quietly, studies the way a boy who can love so violently and fiercely that he would stand against the whole world for them grieves. Sitting gingerly beside his bed, he reaches out a gentle hand and, with a spare cloth, dabs at his face and dries his hair. He says, "Mugiwara-ya," in a tone he didn't know he could use anymore, soft and coaxing. He tries to unclench Luffy's fists and massage the muscles out, but the boy's small frame hides some serious strength and he can't get them to loosen up. 

Instead, he just sits beside him. Watching. What a pair the two of them make, he thinks dryly: a left-behind little brother and a gone-ahead older brother.

Occasionally, he wakes, but only for brief moments. His bleary eyes move around the room, and he looks at Law. His eyebrows always crease. His face crumples, and he looks overwhelmingly like a small child. With a timid, scared voice, he says, "Ace...?" as if he cannot bear to hear Law's answer. As if he already knows that this blurry figure in front of him is not his older brother but a poor stand-in for one. Law just looks at him quietly, and he before long he blacks out again. Law finds he starts spending most of his days in the recovery room. He gets used to the drone of the machines and Luffy's unnatural stillness. He gets used to wiping his face dry and uncurling his fists. 

The day he awakens for good, Law is so sure that he'd die again he almost can't bring himself to watch his chain of destruction. Not enough time had passed for that giant hole in his chest to heal fully, and Law doubted it ever would. Then there was the strain on his body from the drugs, his other injuries, his weeks of bedrest, his lack of food...a hill nearly twelve stories high suddenly disappears from view, only to reappear and smash into another mountain, breaking it into thousands of pieces.

Well. He certainly seemed capable. Law can feel his jaw go a little slack as he listens to the sounds of chaos and destruction, Luffy’s single-minded attempt at destroying everything around him and himself while he’s at it.

Jinbei, the Warlord of the Sea who’d come with Luffy sighs and looks distraught. “What happens if he opens his wounds?” 

“He’d die,” Law deadpans, because it’s true. He can only perform so many miracles in his life, and the fact that Luffy was standing was already several of them. 

Jinbei sighs again, deep, heavy, and immeasurably sad before heading off into the forest after the boy. Law wonders how Luffy came to have a Warlord as such a close ally and decides to chalk it up to his unique blend of charisma. After all, somehow, he now has Law himself as an ally. Trafalgar Law, who has had a pirate career of almost two decades, and who has never taken an alliance nor made an ally, least of all the most notorious crew to grace the Grand Line in many, many years. 

Still, if there's anyone who can drag Luffy back from the brink of suicide, it's the calming and dependable presence of Jinbei. Solid like a rock, his crew would never admit but over the past few weeks they all have grown to look up to him. Law waits. And waits. Finally, when the sun just begins to dip below the horizon Jinbei returns with Luffy, the boy even smaller next to Jinbei's massive frame. His bandages are stained with fresh blood, dirt, grass and dust, while the ones around his head are soaked and sticky. 

Law has half a mind to scold him, but that broken expression on his face and his fresh tear tracks makes him bite his tongue. 

“Get in the sub,” he says, instead, intending to sound harsher. “I need to restitch you. And don’t think I’ll do it again.” 

Luffy nods meekly. “Sorry,” he says mildly. Law recoils. He doesn’t need apologies. He wants his body to knit back together. He wants his heart to come to terms with his loss. He...wants, he realises, to see him smile again. That big one. Unabashed in the face of tyranny.

Luffy sits good and quiet as Law peels away his bandages and removes the old stitches. With careful hands, he flushes the dirt from his wounds and disinfects them. 

Just as Law gets started on restitching, however, Luffy asks, "why did you come and save me?"  The question surprises Law so much he nearly stabs him with the needle. 

“Don’t distract me,” Law bites, but Luffy just blinks down at him with two wide eyes. Law huffs and stabs him medically. 

He has choices, here. He could lie. He could bluff his way out of this. He could manipulate him—now you owe me one, Mugiwara-ya—or he could tell the truth. He could say he knows what it is like, to be left behind. He could say that in his eyes, in his fist, he'd seen a flash of a future in which everything he wanted could be obtained. He could tell him that, in spite of everything he is: all his cruel tendencies, his ruthlessness, his hopelessness, he has become caught up in the incredibly inspiring web of Luffy's will.

He says none of this. "I just didn't think you should die there," he says, tactful. 

Luffy hums, as if he doesn't believe him. He would be right to. He opens his mouth to say something—bite back, maybe. Challenge him. But whatever he wants to say is cut off by a long, loud, and rather comical, growl. Law looks up at him, and Luffy is rubbing his nose, a faraway expression on his face. An experience like this could break even the strongest of men, but somehow…Law thinks he’s going to be okay. 

“Don’t rip them open again,” Law warns as he sets the needle down. “Next time, you will tear them so badly that your guts will come pouring out.” 

Luffy pales a little. 

“When they carried you in here, Mugiwara-ya, I saw your lungs. You might not be able to feel anything there ever again,” Law taps his chest lightly. He tries for more. Words of comfort. Of sympathy. But once again, everything fails him. “You can go now. I think they were preparing food,” Law says brusquely, hands reaching for his medical equipment instead of out to him.

Luffy grabs his hand as he does, though. Waits until Law looks at him questioningly to say, with the utmost sincerity, "thank you." For the first time, a small smile ghosts across Luffy’s face—a reminder of what his face could look like creased in joy. 

Law's skin crawls and he shakes him off. It was a valiant attempt at a smile, but an attempt nonetheless. It only serves to tell Law that he still has a long, long way to go. Luffy jumps off the bench and runs outside, before remembering that he’s not supposed to do that and takes marginally smaller steps. 

“Mugiwara-ya!” Law calls, the words tumbling out of his mouth. Luffy skids to a halt. “I’ll see you in the New World.” 

Luffy smiles that peculiar smile again and gives him a nod.

A promise, then. He supposes it's time to dust that old plan off, after all. 

Law is beginning to believe he may have made a mistake, but he has far too much pride to ever admit it.

In front of him, Luffy races ahead whilst giggling and laughing, his wide smile about to split his face in two. Law feels so overwhelmingly concerned for his own sanity that he might fall into an endless, inescapable spiral of self-doubt. They are about to face a man who can literally suck the oxygen out of the air around him and kill them without even breaking a sweat, but the Captain of the infamous Straw Hats looks like he’s about to get on the best rollercoaster in the Grand Line. 

Sure, he's saved Luffy's life, but he hadn't been quite sure what the boy was really like. Luffy seemed very emotional: quick to anger but even quicker to smile. He also knew he wasn't the typical kind of pirate: he was about as far away from Doflamingo as anyone could be. Here was one who defends the defenseless, starts revolutions like they're nothing, and rebels against the government without a thought. Law knew that he needed to give Straw Hat more credit than the rest of the world afforded him. 

Yes, he was a risk-taker and reckless, but he must’ve had some genius in him. You don’t destroy Crocodile several days into your adventure in the Grand Line without thinking it through, do you? There’s no possible way you could level Enies Lobby without a plan, right? You can’t break into an impenetrable prison without a strategy. 

Maybe this was just a psych-out. Maybe Luffy really did have a plan, but he kept that smile and devil-may-care attitude as a way to both keep his crew motivated and to keep his spirits up. Law contents himself with this line of thinking until the brat turns to him, without a single shred of mischief in his eyes, and asks sweetly, "you're not going to betray me, are you?"

Law blinks down at him, stunned. Every single bone in his body simultaneously says what the hell. His mouth moves before his brain has finished processing the rest of his sentence and the word that comes out at the end of this arduous journey is "no." He blinks again, now surprised at himself and the honest way he'd reacted.

Law can almost see the sparkle in Luffy’s eyes as he turns back to his crew with a big grin. It’s rather endearing, but Law is too busy being shell-shocked to really process what is happening right now. He knows Straw Hat owes him one now, but being trusted so easily, so wholeheartedly, so naturally, is a feeling so alien to him it sits uncomfortably in his chest as though he'd just swallowed a wrench. He might genuinely throw up. 

The next thing Law knows, Luffy is tying a raccoon to his head and giggling again, patting his back with big, heavy slaps that hint none too gently at his underlying strength. Luffy’s crew is just as weird as him: there’s too much backtalk, too much doubt, and too much influence from his crew on Luffy’s decisions. 

He feels ill again, as though a rug is being swept out from under his feet and he’s stuck in a perpetual motion of falling. Is he really going to say that he preferred Luffy when he was four feet under and ready to dig for that extra two? At least he was predictable then! 

That said, Law does have to give them credit for his crew's brute strength. Somehow they made it this far, after all, and now, well, now they're trundling down a track with no safety mechanisms in sight and this is still the safest Law has felt all day. Caesar is still nowhere to be found, and he's baffled at how far Luffy managed to send him flying. Just what were his limits? His eyes slide over to the man, watching him carefully. Luffy was...like a gem of semi-polished potential, but to uncover the rest of it you'd first have to get over the terrifyingly tall hurdle of Luffy's personality—his baffling optimism and undeniable stupidity. 

Luffy giggles and whoops as the cart hits a hard left and nearly topples over. If Law listened closely, perhaps he would be able to hear his empty head rattling like a pair of poorly-made maracas. He flops when a falling rock clips the side of the wheel and bumps into Law, who steadies him. The feeling of his skin, warm and thrumming with life, is strange to him. After all, Law can still hear his bone-chilling screams from when he had broken through the steel walls of the Tang and collapsed onto the island, eyes rolled up into the back of his head. Even worse, for several weeks after that, Law often woke up in a cold sweat, his dreams ringing with the force of Luffy's shrieks, his nose stinging with the smell of melting skin.

Somehow, though, they make it on board the Sunny and off Punk Hazard in one piece, but he hadn't been prepared for just how much this would test him. The Straw Hats are not just friendly but over-eager to help, each kind and every bit a do-gooder as Luffy is. Law undergoes what must be the most transformative period of his life (and what you might arguably call a mid-life crisis) in the span of several days. 

There is...an incredible amount of kindness here. It clings to his feet like tendrils of warmth, flowing even from the cracks between the slats of the ship's deck, as if the Sunny itself has a will and a personality that echoes that of its passengers. Law has never been on a ship that has felt this loved before. When Law, without really meaning to, blurts out that he hates bread, he doesn’t actually expect the cook to take that with a nod of his head and a smile. 

But within fifteen minutes there is fresh onigiri on the plate in front of him, filled with all his favourite ingredients. That Black Leg guy had made that just for him, because everyone else was having sandwiches. The table is loud and raucous, filled with laughter, chatter, and Luffy’s extendable arms reaching far across the table to grab fistfuls of food, stealing even from his friends. Law realises he might have to defend his onigiri with his life, but as he takes another bite of the best food he’s ever had, he can’t bring himself to mind. 

The Sunny is so pleasant to be on that despite everything they're headed towards: Doflamingo, Caesar, Dressrosa, he finds himself...well, relaxing. Wrapping a towel around his waist, Law pads into the knee-high water of the special ‘fools who would drown in bathwater for power’ section of the in-floor bath. He immediately feels all the strength seep out of his body in one fell swoop as soon as his shins are covered and drops like a sad, pathetic stone. However, the bath functions as designed: the water is shallow and the rim is curved and sloped, allowing him to rest his head on the cool tile. 

He’s not normally one for baths: they make him feel ill, as it does most people who have partaken in Devil Fruits. Still, the novelty of being in a giant bathtub on a pirate ship was a bit too much to pass up. The ship's motion tocks the water back and forth, and even his anxious mind finds its thoughts flying away. He has almost just gone boneless when a loud shriek has him ripped from his daydream.

“Tora-ooooooooooo!” Something cannonballs into the water at high speeds, sending warm water sloshing everywhere. Law wipes at his face, but the person who had leapt in is already sputtering and coughing, arms flailing everywhere. 

“I’m gonna drown,” Luffy groans, choking on bathwater and sinking to the bottom in a mass of careening limbs. 

Law waits for him to realise it’s barely knee-high, but a few pitiful bubbles escape Luffy’s murky form. Law sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, before wading over to him. Unceremoniously, he sticks his hand in the water and yanks him back up by the hair.

Luffy sucks in a deep, gasping breath as his head breaks the surface. “Phew-ah!” 

“You will be the first Devil Fruit user to drown in a bathtub,” Law says rather unkindly. He drops Luffy like a sack of hot potatoes. The man nearly sinks again before managing to land on his knees, grinning at him. 

“It’s not the first time,” Luffy admits, pushing his hair out of his face. He blinks at Law, looks at him up-and-down—Law suddenly is hyper-aware of the fact that they’re both practically naked. Then he say astutely, “woah, Tora-o, you really do have a lot of tattoos.” 

Law blinks at him, then down at his chest. He only gets this split second before Luffy once again launches himself at him. Though weak and more like Luffy has tried to stand but failed and crashed into him, it still sends the two of them staggering back until Law’s legs hit the rim of the bath and his knees fold like a deck of cards. 

Luffy crashes into the water, but Law manages to sit down on the floor quite gracefully. He still has to yank Luffy out and drape him over the side like discarded laundry, though.

Luffy sucks in yet another deep breath before looking over at him, still smiling. Then his eyes widen and he says, “Awesome! Your tattoo says EAT!” 

Hah. Law sputters and says, "it spells DEATH, you moron."

“But if you do this,” reaching out a calloused palm, Luffy grips his hand and folds down his fingers. “It says EAT! Ah…I’m hungry…do you think Sanji will bring snacks to the bath?” 

Law has never had the thought that if he holds things in a certain way his fingers spell EAT, and now that he has been made aware of this information he feels like a ten ton truck has just run him over. He stares at his fingers in horror. 

“Did it hurt?” Luffy asks, prodding his chest with a finger. Somehow, he's gotten even closer. Gah. Almost too close. Unfortunately, Law’s personal space is about twice the size of a regular person’s personal space, and that's at the minimum. In truth, he likes for people to be as far away as ROOM would let him. 

“A bit,” Law says. Luffy traces his heart again with what Law might delude himself into thinking is reverence. His fingertip is cool compared to the water. Law might die here, in this bath.

“What do they mean?” Luffy blinks round eyes up at him, his hair dripping water down his face. 

Law wavers between answering him honestly, because lying to Luffy feels like a crime against humanity, and keeping his dark, sordid past to himself. “It’s a heart,” he deflects. 

“You have many hearts,” Luffy observes. He pokes his right arm. “Are they for someone you loved?” 

It’s like a lightning bolt shoots through him, burning him up from the inside out. He blinks panicked eyes at Luffy— how did he know— but the brat has already moved on. Law’s fingers clench together, insides raw and mind fuzzy, like he’s just touched a live wire.

“Woah, it’s all the way up your shoulders,” inspecting the dark lines a little closer, Luffy moves so that his nose is so close he might brush Law’s skin. Then he sighs, big and loud, and says thoughtfully, “should I get a tattoo? A big one? Ace had cool tattoos too, maybe I’m missing out…I should get a big one too…” 

Law takes a deep breath to calm his racing, traitorous heart. Luffy is so close their naked legs are touching and somehow he's warmer than even the bathwater. He trails his hand down Law's chest again and Law feels his skin prickle beneath his touch and struggles not to flinch away from him. Instead, he does what he does best and abruptly changes the subject. Raising a wet hand, he jabs a finger into the giant, cross-shaped scar on Luffy’s chest.

"I think you have enough permanent marks," Law says dryly. Unintentionally, his voice softens when he asks, “How did it heal? Can you feel anything?” 

“Nothing at all,” Luffy says nonchalantly. He grabs Law's hand when he tries to pull it back and presses it harder onto his chest, flattening his palm against his sternum. “Not even the temperature.” 

Law grimaces. He’d tried to stitch the nerves back together as best he could, but when most of them were erased from the face of the earth by sheer molten rock, it’s a little difficult. He’d tried to control the scarring too, as best he could, but it still covers his whole chest. 

“Tora-o did his best and it doesn’t really matter to me,” Luffy continues, a guileless smile on his face. Law’s fingers twitch on his chest. His hand is tight around his wrist. Law feels a very funny feeling that he’s never felt before. He doesn’t want to know what it is or what it means. “It’s a reminder.” 

Law opens his mouth: to say what, he doesn’t know, because he doesn’t get the chance. The door to the baths bangs open, and heavy footsteps sound on the tile. 

“Luffy,” Roronoa gripes as he enters, sounding a little displeased. “I told you not to get in without me.” 

“Tora-o was here, so it’s okay!” Luffy chirps, letting go of Law’s hand. He snatches it back like he’s burnt it, chest heaving.

“He’s also a Devil Fruit eater, isn’t he?” Roronoa eyes him sceptically, shrugging off his overcoat. “I’m surprised you take baths without someone else to make sure you don’t die.” 

This is Law’s cue to leave, even though he just got in. “I’m surprised you take baths,” he replies tersely. Roronoa sputters and Luffy’s loud raucous laughter drowns out the sounds of his heavy breathing as he drags himself out of the tub.

“Ah. You’re leaving already?” Luffy pouts hard, arms folding over his chest. “But Zoro just got here.” 

Law shrugs his shoulders, grabbing an extra towel on his way out. He’ll just take a shower next time, he thinks, as his knees knock together when he tries to dry himself off. His hand still tingles from where it’d been pressed against his skin. Right, yeah, the bath’s not worth the near-death experience.

Over the next few days of travelling towards what he’s sure is impending doom, Law finds himself tested by all the Straw Hats, but really, it's mostly Luffy's fault. For some reason, the captain has made hunting him down his sole priority, and given that the Sunny is a ship with nowhere else to go, he finds Law pretty easily. The time of the day, what Law is currently doing, what Law plans to do, well, none of it matters to him. In the day he is hounded by questions and requests to play ridiculous games or join in physical activity, and at night though they sleep in separate hammocks Law always wakes up when Luffy clambers into his, throwing himself over him as though he's a large, wriggly, rubber weighted blanket.

But worst of all: Law has always had a soft spot for loud, clumsy, smiling, and affectionate people. He just can’t bring himself to dislike the attention, or him, no matter how hard he tries. In truth, he finds he misses his crew. He misses Bepo. He misses the hum and whistles of the Polar Tang, his home. 

On a rather calm day, Law sits in the comfortable and rather spacious library, looking over a couple of books. He gets in about an hour worth of work before Luffy bangs open the door and runs down the stairs before skidding to a halt in front of Law. 

“Whatcha reading, Tora-o?” Luffy asks, leaning over to take a good look at the book on the table. 

“A medical textbook your doctor lent me,” Law replies, making a note on a separate piece of paper. It’s not particularly riveting, but it’s a book he’s been looking for for a while. He’s glad that Dr. Tony Tony was so accommodating and knowledgeable—he’d spent a great few hours earlier picking his brain.

“Hehhhh,” Luffy blinks down at it, squinting hard. “Is it important?” He worms around the table to stand behind Law and get a better view.

“If you think research into Devil Fruits and illnesses is important, then it is,” Law tells him, feeling Luffy's chin dig into his shoulder as he rests almost his entire weight on him. “Certain studies says that some diseases affect Devil Fruit eaters differently.” 

“Hehhhhh,” Luffy says again. The pressure is lifted from his shoulder, then Luffy pulls his chair backwards and throws himself into Law’s lap, settling himself neatly on his thighs. 

Law blinks down at the straw hat that has suddenly taken up his entire field of vision before plucking it from his head, setting it neatly next to them on the table. Luffy tilts his head to look up at him and suddenly all Law can see is his big, brown eyes and cheery grin. In spite of himself, his heart thuds a little strangely. 

“There’s a chair right next to me,” Law deadpans. 

“This is more comfortable,” Luffy declares. “Tora-o, read the interesting bits to me.” 

Yeah, there’s nothing really interesting about this particular text. Law’s not even sure how much of it is generally applicable: Devil Fruit abilities differ so much from each other, after all. Still, there’s some unique points here and there that’s worth taking note of…not that Luffy would care.

“Can’t you read it yourself?” Law asks, reaching around him to flip the page and make another note. 

“Can’t,” Luffy chirps. “I’m not very good at reading.” 

Law blinks down at him again. “You can’t read?” 

Luffy makes a face. His voice is whiny when he replies,  “I can read. I’m just not very good.”

“Did you not go to school?” 

“School?” Luffy rubs his nose. “I’ve never been to school. I was fighting bears!” He looks up at him, eyes shining with joy. “And tigers! Big ones! Bigger than you, Tora-o, and you’re quite tall.” 

Law now has some inkling of why Luffy has turned out the way that he has. “With Fire Fist-ya?” He asks, writing another bit down. 

“Yeah,” Luffy rests his chin on his hands and peers down at the textbook. “Sabo taught me how to read, but it was too boring.” 

Law has no idea who Sabo is, but he supposes he’s just another figure in the mystery of Luffy’s life and childhood. The son of the revolutionary Dragon and the grandson of Garp can’t have had a normal experience growing up, that’s for sure. Luffy leans back onto his chest and looks back up at him expectantly. 

There doesn’t seem to be getting out of this one, but he’s sure he’ll bore Luffy to death in a bit. Taking a deep breath, he starts to recite, “We received a patient with complaints of a rapid heartbeat and intense dizziness. After further analysis, we discovered that the patient was also severely constipated and had, in the past, been treated twice for severe seizures and chronic urinary tract infections.” 

Luffy sways a little, eyelids already drooping. “What does it mean, Tora-o?” 

Law hides a smile. “As a Devil Fruit eater, you are more prone to dehydration,” he explains, adjusting Luffy so that he doesn’t slip out of his lap. “Unlike normal people, you feel the urge to drink less. In severe cases, the body can reject water entirely, resulting in water poisoning or extreme dehydration.” 

Luffy’s head nods slightly, then he goes boneless in Law’s arms. The sheer audacity of Luffy needs to be studied, but again...Law can't bring himself to mind too much, instead moving him so that he's leaning backwards, his weight supported by Law's right arm. Sure, he knew that he’d end up putting the captain to sleep, but he didn’t think it’d be after the very first sentence. Something about this amuses him greatly. 

He works in the blessed silence, broken only by Luffy’s occasional snores and sleeptalking. Most of it is requests for food, ranging in exoticism from omelettes to sea king meat. It’s hard to think that someone this full of life was previously a hair’s breadth away from seeing what came after. 

“Mugiwara-ya,” Law says, directly into his ear. The brat doesn’t even stir. “You’ve got some nerve, falling asleep on a rival captain. What would someone else do to you?” 

The only response he gets is a snore. 

Law sighs. Despite his lithe appearance, Luffy is heavy. Something something rubber dense, Law should know better, bla bla, but he picks Luffy up anyway, grunting a little under his weight. Carefully, he navigates the stairs and brings them both back up onto the deck. The light of the mid-afternoon is surprisingly gentle, filtered by thick, white clouds. 

On the left, Robin is seated underneath a pool umbrella, a cold drink leaving puddles on the table next to her. Brook is on the right, picking aimlessly at an acoustic guitar. Usopp is trying for fish, but he hasn’t seemed to have much luck. They all look his way when he steps onto the grassy area, eyebrows raised at their captain's prone form. Helpfully, Luffy snores loudly before they can accuse him of murder. 

“Ara. Where did you find him?” Robin asks, lifting her sunglasses to peer at Luffy’s form. 

“He found me,” Law deadpans, setting him down in a patch of sun as though he is a catnapping kitty. True to his role, Luffy stretches and rubs his face in the grass before settling. 

“Our captain has been giving you a hard time,” she says, almost apologetically. 

“That’s just ‘cause he likes you,” Usopp laughs. 

Law watches Luffy curl into a little ball. In sleep, his face is quiet and still, with an almost serene look that is completely lacking in his day-to-day life. Something again catches at Law’s breath. 

“I’ll leave him in your hands,” he says, and turns to leave. Just as he takes a step, however, he nearly trips face-first when a hand shoots out with an iron grip and wraps around his ankle. Luffy has somehow gotten one of his stretchy arms around his feet and though Law tugs at it, nothing gives. Christ. Even in sleep he cannot be left alone. 

“Mugiwara-ya,” Law grinds out, sounding depressed. “Let go of me.” 

Luffy snores, then rolls over to rub his face on Law’s jeans. Again, that stupid heart-in-mouth feeling. If he didn't know better, he might say he was catching a cold. In truth, he could very easily get out of this situation himself. If he really wanted to, a quick ROOM would have him free in a jiffy and off to spend his day how he pleased. Be it reading medical textbooks or drawing up plans for Dressrosa, he had all the time in the world to do everything he wanted. But alas, he makes the mistake of glancing down at Luffy first. 

Even in his sleep, Luffy is smiling. As Law watches, his grin splits his face and all at once, Law is transported back in time to another person who had smiled so widely too. His hand stops before he even completes the motion for his Fruit and he finds himself folding his legs beneath him. The grass is slightly damp from the spray of the saltwater. Law picks up Luffy's head and drops it onto his lap carelessly, frowning at the way his smile doesn't waver. 

"Does he always get his way?" Law asks rhetorically, stretching his cheek out to inhuman levels. 

Robin laughs. “Yes,” she says, casting him a knowing look. “You’ll find you get used to it. What Luffy wants is what fate wants, after all.”

What Luffy wants is what fate wants, huh? Law looks over him. Says, "Cora-san would have loved you, you know," so quietly he might as well have not said it at all. Then, he pulls the brim of his cap further down his face to keep the sun out of his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. He’ll just take a small break here, he thinks. The rocking of the ship is oddly soothing. The sounds of Usopp making a catch fills his ears. 

Without realising it, he falls asleep too. He dreams that there is snow gently falling from the sky, and everything is quiet. He is safe and wrapped in a warm, black coat.

Uwoaaaaaaaah. Tits. 

Law had been raised a Man of the Lord. His father had been religious, his mother not so much. They had a cross hanging over the door to their clinic and to their home. He should know better than this. He should be better than this, even if he has given up on the whole concept of God. Alas, Luffy's chest is the only thing that is filling Law's delusional, perverted mind, even as his wounds ache and his head throbs, the sound of people shouting overwhelming and nauseating. 

Luffy whirls around and probably smacks a bunch of people away, but Law doesn't know what he's doing because he's too busy being suffocated between a pair of bouncing, rolling pecs. 

“Sorry, Tora-o,” Luffy pulls him away and finally lets him breathe. Law wipes at his face, clearing the dust and sweat from his eyes, then has to fight the urge to stare, open-mouthed and gaping. Entirely too close to him, and taking up the entirety of his field of vision, is Luffy. His face is scraped and slightly bruised. His black hair is now grey with dust and is sticking up from all sides. As Law looks at him, a line of sweat trickles down the side of his face.

He knew Luffy was pretty, but not this pretty. Handsome, even. Rugged. Law wheezes, stumbling back from his apologetic puppy eyes and nearly brains himself by tripping on a loose piece of rubble. Luffy catches him effortlessly, tutting at him. 

"Be careful," he chides, and if Law wasn't experiencing yet another crisis he probably would've snapped something along the lines of pot, kettle. Luffy gives him a thorough once over, then licks his thumb and wipes a drop of blood from Law's temple. "You good to go?" 

Law blinks dumbly at him. His skin is wet. 

"Right, that's a yes!" Luffy chirps, then picks him up like he weighs absolutely nothing and slings him over his shoulder. Right. Right, okay, there's something wrong with Law. There must be. There’s no way he’s finding a beaten-up and banged-up Luffy attractive. 

This might be the craziest day he’s ever had in all of his entire life. He knew being with the Straw Hats was like throwing himself into a hurricane with nothing but a prayer to save him, but he didn’t think it’d be like this. In some bizarre twist of fate, Luffy has somehow not only made friends with what seems to be the entire population of gladiators (all of whom for some reason owe life-debts to him), he has also miraculously tamed a murderous bull, forced Law to ride the bull, tried to beat up his allies for the crime of also wanting to beat up Doflamingo, and picked a fight with the stone personification of half an island. He’s fought a Navy Admiral, taken out what feels like a thousand men, and yelled so much he must be hoarse by now.

There is not a single inch of Luffy’s skin that Law hasn’t somehow felt pressed up against him, had unwittingly in his mouth, or had his face buried in. He’s been held up by his strong legs, pressed between his pecs, tucked into the crook of his neck, and carried in his arms. He might end up going insane because of this. Stronger men have foamed at the mouth from less.

The chains around his wrists clank as Luffy uses a man’s face as a springboard and sends the two of them flying. Law feels his stomach swoop out from under him as he’s suddenly propelled nearly twenty feet in the air, but Luffy catches an overhang with his free hand and sends them shooting forward. He drops hard on the ground, the impact rattling Law’s bones, then throws him off his shoulder and onto the floor to avoid an incoming projectile. His hand cups the back of Law’s head and softens the blow—Law stares up into his face, feeling thoroughly winded. 

Luffy flings himself over his body and something explodes behind them. He smells like ash, like dirt and smoke, like a...well, like a man. Law is absolutely disgusted with his sudden, overwhelming urge to lick him. There is sweat puddling in the curve of his collarbones. A prominent vein bulges in his biceps, which are flexed and tense. Luffy doesn't usually look like it, but he's a stocky guy born for fighting: the callouses on his palms, the build of his body, the strength in his thighs. Law feels his head spin and doesn't know where to look. Why is his shirt open like that, anyway? Close it! 

“Tora-o,” Luffy says, breathless and panting. A bead of sweat drips from Luffy’s face and onto Law’s cheek—sparks shoot down his spine. “What you said. Y'know, about what Mingo did.”

Ah. If Law were a more comedic person, this is where he'd start whistling awkwardly. He still can’t believe he just blurted out what is effectively his entire life’s motivation to Luffy while he screamed in joy as they rode around on the back of a bull. It was dehydration, motion sickness, and blood loss, okay? He wasn’t in his right mind! 

“Cora-san,” Luffy continues, and Law’s stomach flips. The way he says his name makes Law feel funny—he says it like his name is something truly very precious. “The person you loved was Cora-san, right?” 

“Yes.” Law doesn’t mean to sound as breathless as he does. 

“Then, your tattoos,” Luffy swallows hard and looks down on him. “They are for him?” 

Law nods, just once. They are for him. Emblazoned the back of his coat. In the black lines on his chest, reaching up from his core to his neck. The ones on his shoulders. The name of his crew. His entire life is a love letter to Cora-san, a man who had shown a child truly determined to never be loved again that he could be. That it was possible. This—toppling Doflamingo—is supposed to be his concluding paragraph. His, he realises, eulogy. An ode to the dead.

Luffy’s mouth sets in a determined line. He wipes his forehead with the back of his free hand and slowly gets to his feet. "Listen, Tora-o. I will definitely get you out of these chains."

It is as if his soul rings with the force of Luffy's conviction. Hearing him sound so serious makes him remember that the happy-go-lucky, slightly naive man that brightened up entire rooms with his presence was also the same man who has toppled regimes and stood up against some of the biggest powers in the world. He’s the captain of the pirate crew that’s changing history as they speak.

“I will definitely beat that Mingo up,” Luffy declares it like he dares the world to stop him. Like he wants the world to try, because it'd be more fun that way. Reaching down to pick him back up, he offers Law a beatific smile. “Tora-o, I’ve decided.” 

“Decided on what?” 

“Our alliance isn’t over. I’m not letting you die here, whether you like it or not.” 

Despite the chaos of the battlefield, the sudden silence following these statements makes it feel like you could hear a pin drop.

“Selfish brat,” Law spits, wishing he had the strength to raise his arms and block his red face from view. “What do you know?” 

“It’s not my first time,” Luffy shrugs, hoisting him over his shoulder, sounding older than his years.

How incredibly insightful. Law doesn’t know if Luffy has to be stupid for most of his day-to-day life so that he can come up with these flashes of brilliance just when the people around him needed to hear it.

What Luffy wants is what fate wants. It was Robin who had told him that, right? Law stares at the side of his face as Luffy grits his teeth and takes off again, springing from left to right. Fate, providence, the will of ‘D’...fine. He’ll do it. He’ll bet all his chips on Luffy. Every single one that he has accumulated for the past thirteen years, good God, all of them. He’ll bet them all on Luffy. If he dies, then Law will die with him, like he had planned to from the start. If he lives—then even Law doesn’t know what will come next. On which side will the coin drop? What does fate truly want?

His stomach churns. His head hurts. The palace looms in the distance. 

“I’m counting on you, Mugiwara-ya.” 

Then he watches Luffy get back up, again and again and again, and knock a silly little bird off its perch. Oh, he thinks, watching Luffy flying the air, three, four times his usual size. How the mighty fucking fall. 

In the end, Luffy leaves Dressrosa, an island now more rubble than anything else, having accomplished five impossible feats. He has found his long-lost and presumed dead older brother, he has gained the respect of an entire citizenry and the new Navy Admiral, he has acquired five thousand six hundred new followers under the Straw Hat jolly roger, and he has defeated the Warlord and former Celestial Dragon, Donquixote Doflamingo. 

After all of this, is Cora-san finally sleeping well? Law stands on the lookout above the din of the banquet below (which, luckily for him and his poor ears, was already winding down). The salty breeze of the ocean rustles his hair. In the sky above, there are a million stars. 

Earlier, Robin had asked him what his plans were and he hadn’t had the words to answer her. He knew what her thinly-veiled meaning was: they had both expected to die to correct their past, and they had both been saved by a stubborn, kind-hearted boy in a straw hat. What do you do when you spend thirteen years plotting your revenge (and your death while you’re at it), only to come out of it virtually unscathed and with the whole wide world ahead of you? What do you do with so much opportunity? Is this how regular people felt all the time? The stars spiral above him. The open sea is full of something more. He thinks about Bepo and the rest of his crew that he’d said goodbye to, thinking it would be the last time he saw them. He missed them something awful.

Some part of him is glad that Bepo isn’t here tonight though, because he might end up crying from relief into his soft fur.

“Cora-san,” he says, head craned to take in the full expanse of the dark night. The moon is bright and full, casting silver rays onto the wine-dark sea. A strong wave jostles the boat. What would Cora-san do? 

“He’s happy,” a voice says directly into his ear. Law jumps about a foot in the air and nearly topples off the lookout. Chest heaving, he whips his head to the right and sees a red-faced, slightly tipsy Luffy, who holds onto the rope with one hand and lets his body sway in the breeze. 

“Mugiwara-ya! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he spits, hands still shaking on his sword hilt. He could’ve gutted him! 

“He’s happy,” Luffy says again, completely ignoring him. He clambers unskillfully into the lookout, falling over himself. “Cora-san is.” 

Law’s words fail him, and he just stares. 

“Because,” Luffy continues, pulling himself to his feet and resting his hands on the wooden fencing. “Because Tora-o is free now.” A huge, cheeky grin. “Just like how I wanted it.” 

Free, huh? 

“You,” Law huffs, hands clenching on his sword. Then he sighs and sits, folding his legs and leaning back against the fencing to look up at the sky. “You didn’t have to go so far for me.” 

Luffy blinks at him, then throws himself to the floor too, wrapping his arm around Law’s legs so many times it’s like he’s afraid he’d run away. “We’re friends,” Luffy says stubbornly. “And I like you.”

“You nearly died,” Law says. Watching him and Doflamingo duke it out had been one of the most insane moments of his life. He might genuinely go grey faster because of it. Then there was that monster that Luffy turned into, five times his size and back curling with black-and-red swirls—Law will never forget how he felt when he saw that. Shock and awe. A rather healthy amount of something that might be similar to fear. Shamefully, lust.

“So did you!” Luffy grouses, giving him a rather good stink eye that hits all of Law’s soft spots. “You came here thinking you’d die, didn’t you?” 

Law doesn’t answer that question. 

“And you really tried your best to die,” Luffy intensifies his glare. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

Law wants to say it would’ve been better for you, given that they’re still rivals. But he can’t bring himself to, and he knows Luffy would only end up angry. Having seen firsthand the destructive potential of his fist, he doesn’t really want to get into a fight on the only boat they have. 

“Whatever the case is,” Law grumbles. “I owe you one now. What you did was far more than I asked you to.” 

“I didn’t do anything because you asked me to,” Luffy lengthens one of his arms and smacks him on the head. His hat falls to the ground. “I decide what I want to do and then I do it. Tora-o deserves to live freely. The people deserve to live freely too. Mingo pissed me off, so I kicked his butt.” He gets a very satisfied look in his eyes. 

“Is that really all you want?” Law asks. “For everyone to leave freely?” 

Luffy nods sagely. Law tilts his head and considers this. Fate seems to side with Luffy. Is this why? Such a simple wish from someone with the world’s biggest heart. A man who only claims to be a pirate because of the freedom it entails, not the promise of riches or treasure or power or fame.

“I promised Ace and Sabo that I’d live more freely than anyone else,” Luffy declares, unwinding himself from Law’s legs and sitting upright in one swoop. “I’ll do whatever I want, whenever I want, and whoever gets in my way I’ll beat them up. That’s what it means to be the King of the Pirates.”

“And if I get in the way?” Law asks just to tease him, but Luffy actually falters, mouth curling. Law stares at him, something inside flip-flopping. 

Luffy whines, “don’t do that,” and Law can’t help but laugh, the sound loud and coarse, drifting up into the cool air. 

Luffy’s mouth drops open, and he gives him a big, wide grin. “Tora-o, I didn’t know you could laugh like that,” he surges up and drops himself onto his lap, holding his face between his palms. Luffy’s hands are warm but his fingertips are cool from the breeze. His calloused palms and knobbly knuckles rub on his skin, and Law can feel himself turn pink. “You’re pretty when you smile,” he pulls at Law’s cheeks, stretching them out. “You should smile more.” 

Before the events of Dressrosa, Law might’ve told him that there’s nothing he has to smile about. But Cora-san’s memory is free from the chains of his brother, and Law can finally turn his face towards something new. Maybe there will be more things to smile about in the future. His hands settle on Luffy’s hips, holding him tight.

“Am I not pretty when I don’t smile?” Law replies, and Luffy laughs, a gentle sound Law realises that he’s going to miss when he gets back onto his ship. 

“Tora-o is always pretty, even when he’s all angry and sulking.”

A moment passes. Luffy stares at him, a look of sudden concentration crossing his face. Then he snickers, like he’s in on some big secret. “Tora-o. I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” 

Law raises his eyebrows. “You know how to kiss?” 

Luffy glares at him, lip jutting out in a pout. He opens his mouth, presumably to whine at him and tell him all about how he’s an adult and of course he knows how to kiss and bla bla bla bla bla.

Law puts both his palms up in a gesture of surrender before he can get started. “Do what you like,” he says, proud of how calm his voice was despite his heart racing at a million miles per hour. There’s no point in fighting it, he thinks. Somehow he feels like they would’ve always ended up here. “Whatever you want is what fate wants.” 

“Whatever I want?” Luffy snickers again, then without a hint of reservation, he leans forward and presses his lips to Law’s. They’re surprisingly smooth—because he’s rubber?—but warm and pliant. Luffy kisses him like someone who has heard of what kissing is, but has never actually kissed anyone. It’s cute. Law wouldn’t know either, to be frank, so it’s not like he can judge him.

Still, he raises his hand to the back of Luffy’s neck and pulls him closer, tilting his head and—that’s better, he thinks. Soon they’ll have to switch ships and after that they’ll arrive at Zou. He wonders what this will be when they inevitably have to split up.

But hey. This is what fate wanted, right? Law might just have to go along with it, the same way he’s had to go along with every one of Luffy’s selfish decisions. 

He doesn’t think he minds, though.