law&lami + hearth

“Law?”

Law turns slightly, smiling warmly at his sister as he sets the poker to the side, the fire crackling warmly in the hearth. Lami, small and shivering, comes over and sits next to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and letting his warmth and the warmth of the fire soothe her.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, absentmindedly rubbing circles into her shoulder with his thumb. She shrugs against his side, nuzzling closer to him and mumbling into his chest.

“Better, I guess.”

Law hums in response, grabbing a stick by his side and carefully sticking one end into the fire. Lami giggles as he brings the now-lit stick up, waving it around and drawing designs in the air in front of her. Law smiles and teasingly brings it close to her face, taking care not to put her at risk but making her shrink back, laughing and shoving against him with newfound energy to get him to stop.

Mission accomplished, Law tosses the stick in the fire and wraps his other arm around his little sister, stroking her hair gently. The little sigh she lets out as she snuggles closer to him causes his heart to warm and clench in the same moment.

(She’s shaking still – it’s slight, but it’s still there.

The white spots on her skin have never looked brighter than in the bright light of the flames.)

His little sister, his sweet, loving, preciouslittle sister, has been getting steadily worse and worse, and he doesn’t know what to do. Their parents have been working nonstop since the signs first started appearing, but the hints of desperation starting to shine on their faces as Lami edges closer and closer to becoming bedridden make a pit form in Law’s stomach.

They haven’t found a cure yet, and Lami shakes against Law’s side.

(Law’s starting to feel it too; the shakes, the pain, the slow realization that he’s dying.

It doesn’t fill him with fear like the thought of his little sister dying does.)

“…Law?” A whisper, quiet and hesitant, against his side.

“Yeah?”

“Am I going to die?” Law takes care to notjerk his head over to look at her, but his stroking of her hair stops for a moment, before he resumes his motions, stiffer than before.

He says, calmly, as reassuringly as he can with tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, “Of course not. Mom and Dad will find the cure, and you’ll be back and driving me nuts again in no time.”

No response. Law glances at his sister out of the corners of his eyes, seeing Lami stare into the fire, biting her lip.

Tears are slowly rolling down her cheeks.

Law quickly pulls her closer, practically lifting her into his lap and hushes her, gently brushing her tears away. Lami chokes out, “But…what if they don’t?”

“They will. Trust me.”

It sickens him that it tastes like a lie.

(She can’t die. She can’t.)

Lami nods slightly, burying her face into his chest. Law ignores the growing wet spot and holds his sister close, fighting against the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes.

She whispers, “I’m scared, Law.” Law shushes her, rubbing her back and laying his head on hers, but doesn’t respond.

A single tear trails down his cheek.

(He’s scared too.)

They sit, the dying hearth cooling in front of them, and hold each other close, as if it’s the last time they’ll ever be able to.

(It is.)