Chapter Text
Two days into his month off and Rosinante finds himself Trailing after Tsuru down the hospital’s near empty corridor. He earned that time off. But now Tsuru had dragged him out of the comfort of his long chaise lounge chair and books to here.
Four years of infiltrating his brother’s gang, painstakingly gathering evidence so Doffy wouldn’t be able to slither out of the hands of justice again. Doffy was his brother and Rosinante felt it was his duty to bring the man to heel. But he’d nearly tripped at the finish line, which shouldn’t surprise Rosinante since he was quite accustomed to tripping over his own feet.
Though it wasn’t his uncoordinated limbs that nearly did him in. It was his sentimentality for a kid in Doffy’s gang. An ailing spitfire with hate in his eyes and venom on his tongue.
“He reminds me a lot of myself at his age, wouldn’t you agree Rosi?”
No, no he didn’t. While yes, they both held the same hate, there was nothing beyond that in Doffy’s eyes. While the kid… Rosinante’s frown deepened. The kid had grief and fear hiding behind the hate for the world. He was just a scared and sick kid. I hope he’s all right, wherever he is.
Getting that kid away from Doffy suddenly became Rosinante’s top goal. He turned in all his evidence sooner than was planned and brought an end to the sting operation. Doffy tried to flee but he and most of his associates were apprehended. Everyone scattered and, in the chaos, he lost sight of the kid.
Arresting Doffy felt like a hollow victory.
“Alright, here we are.” Tsuru’s voice tugs him abruptly back to reality.
They stand before a plain door with the number 106 posted on the side. He still doesn’t know the point of this little field trip. Only that Tsuru said she needed his help and to come with her. Years of experience with her taught him it was often best to follow her orders now and ask questions later. There was a reason his adoptive father and self-proclaimed uncle bent to her will.
“And where is here?” He asks slowly.
Instead of answering that question, she pulls out a thick sheaf of papers held together by a black binder clip. “You’ll need these.”
He frowns but takes the papers and skims through them. His eyes catch on a few keywords, and he chokes on his own breath.
“Temporary guardianship? What the hell Tsuru?!” Rosinante was unashamed to admit he was not fit to take care of anything living. He did sometimes watch Nojiko and Nami for Belle-mere, but that was for a few hours. “Why me?”
The older and shorter woman crosses her arms, unmoved by his indignant (and justified) squawking. “Rosinante, this is a… unique case, one that you are actually familiar with.”
He frowns, feeling utterly lost. He’s not familiar with any children other than Belle-mere’s girls. Unless… His breath freezes in his chest again. There were children in Doffy’s gang and while Rosinante had tried to deter them from joining, he hadn’t been entirely successful.
“A twelve-year-old kid with a terminal illness caused by heavy lead poisoning? That ring any bells?”
No… There’s no way they found… “You… you found him?”
Tsuru snorts, “Yes, kid gave two officers a black eye and has been a right terror to every nurse who approaches him.”
Rosinante’s lips twitch in a fond smile. “He can be a bit… feral.” Tsuru gives him a clear ‘no shit’ look. “But… I don’t have any space or clothes for him or furniture—” He’s grasping at every reason he can think of.
She gives him a hard, unimpressed look. “Bullshit. I know you’re still living at Sengoku’s place, and he’s got two furnished guest rooms you can use. As for clothes, that’s easy enough to remedy with a quick trip to the mall.”
“I’m not good with kids. I’m not capable of taking care of them let alone one with serious medical needs. So why me?”
Her face softens slightly, “Better than having him waste away in some foster home. Kid deserves a nice place and decent care for whatever time he has left.”
That doesn’t really answer his question and Tsuru doesn’t further elaborate. Instead, she opens the door to reveal the room’s single, small occupant. The boy sits up in bed, dressed in loose pajamas. He looks thinner from the last time Rosinante saw him. The patches of white almost blend in with his pale complexion and the dark smudges under his eyes are more noticeable.
“Trafalgar, say hello to your new guardian, Rosinante.” Tsuru unceremoniously shoves the taller man inside. “I think you two are already acquainted?”
The boy blinks tired gold eyes at him, but then recognition hits and those eyes narrow to dangerous slits.
“Oh, he remembers you alright,” she chuckles.
With that, she closes the door and Rosinante feels he’s trapped with a tiny predator.
“So, is that your name? Rosinante? Or do you prefer Corazon?”
He clears his throat and tries to smile, “Corazon was Doffy’s nickname for me, but yes, my actual name is Rosinante. Though I’m comfortable with you calling me by either.”
“How about I call you traitor? You sold out your own brother after all.”
Rosinante knows the boy is needling him with the intent to hurt and it’s working. He doesn’t let it show and takes a slow calming breath.
“Law,” his tone is patient but that only seems to aggravate the boy. Rosinante guessed he heard the tone as more patronizing than patient. “Doflamingo was an awful person who wanted to inflict suffering and watch the world burn.”
Law fists the blankets draped over his lap. “So what? Maybe the world should burn.”
You don’t believe that. He knows Law doesn’t. Otherwise, why would he put so much effort for Family members under his care? Why study the art of healing if he only wanted to kill? Why help strangers, children especially, if he only wanted to inflict suffering?
“He was going to find a cure for me,” Law says bitterly.
“Kid, I grew up with the man” (true only if one counted the six years they spent together) “and I know he’d never do something that beneficial for someone else unless he had something bigger to gain from it. Besides, didn’t you say your illness was incurable?”
He may have gone a bit too far with that one. A stricken expression flashes across Law’s face before he ducks his head, lips pressed tightly together.
Shit. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“Shut up,” Law snaps. He roughly scrubs his eyes with his arm and looks defiantly up at Rosinante. “I know I’m going to die. I don’t need you to remind me.”
“Again, I’m sorry I—”
Law’s shoulders curl up to his ears, “Whatever. So, what now? You’re going to be my guardian until I croak?”
Rosinante looks at the papers he’d been clutching to his chest. He flips through them to see if there is a set amount of time Law will be in his custody. He sees nothing specific, just “until care for the minor is no longer necessary” which Rosinante took to mean that Law was right.
Law looks at the papers then at him. “You could just toss those papers and walk away.”
The kid must not have been around Tsuru long enough to know that’s not an option. “And if I want to take you in?”
Because despite the implicit order, he does want to take Law. It’s why he ended his operation much sooner than planned, so he could take the kid and run to somewhere safe. Sengoku had saved Rosinante’s life by taking him in and now he had the chance to do the same for Law. Perhaps that’s why Tsuru chose to have Rosinante take in Law, because he could understand and sympathize better than anyone.
Law looks briefly taken aback (hopeful even?), but it’s soon replaced with a dark scowl. “Why would anyone want someone who is diseased and dying?”
Oh, kid. Rosinante takes a calculated risk and sits at the end of the bed. To his mild relief, Law doesn’t pitch a fit, only watches him warily.
“Because even those who are ‘diseased and dying’ as you put it deserve a good life, perhaps more so.”
Law seems to give him that and quietly grumbles, “I don’t have much time, a year at most maybe.”
Rosinante shrugs, “Then we’ll just have to make the best of it.”