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’s been two hours since Law has set foot on the Thousand Sunny, and he can already feel his sanity slipping.
The Straw Hats are absolutely crazy. The only three relatively normal members (and normal is really relative – one of them has five hands at the moment, one of them is a skeleton, and the other is a cyborg – there’s nothing remotely normal about that) are reading, writing, and tinkering respectively.
And then, there’s the batshitmembers.
The Pirate Hunter is lifting 5-ton weights with an ease that is insulting to any body-builder out there, trading barbs with an increasingly agitated Black Leg. Who just threw a salt-shaker at Pirate Hunter. Who caught it in his mouth.
Law is grudgingly impressed.
He’s less impressed when he proceeds to bite clean into it, much to the ire of the cook.
Why? Just…why?
Shaking that event from his mind, he observes the Cat Burglar counting money with a creepy grin on her face, (it cannot be healthy to be that obsessed with money). Straw Hat and the tanuki are playing a mockery of tag (seriously, tag should not cause them to be falling into the water every two minutes). Sniper King is mixing chemicals together that are making increasingly concerning popping noises- aaaand it exploded.
Shocking.
(Why the fuck did he decide allying with these guys would be a good idea?)
(Oh, right. Because he doesn’t have his crew, and he needs to defeat Doflamingo.)
The reminder of his crew sends a pang through his heart. He would normally shove it back down – emotions and attachments are useless right now; he’s pursuing a murderer, a betrayer, after all – but he can’t quite manage it.
(It’s just that-
It’s so loud here. On the Polar Tang, sure, there were machines whirring softly, and arguments breaking out between his crew members, and instructions being yelled during the many times a current sweeped them up and took them who-knows-where, but…
It wasn’t the pure chaos that encompasses every part of the Thousand Sunny. It was Bepo, always offering some peace for Law whenever he needs it. It was Shachi and Penguin, always arguing, but always knowing when Law’s memories were overwhelming him and knowing how to distract him. It was Jean Bart, always ready to square up against whoever was causing Law pain.
It was home.
But none of them are here.
And that hurts, more than Law would like to admit.)
The Straw Hats are crazy, and lively, and just a little fun to be around.
But they’re not his crew.
(He didn’t think he’d miss them this much.)
Law, sitting near in the crowded grass field on Sunny, lays his head back against the mast and closes his eyes.
He’s surrounded by people, but, overwhelmed by the chaos that are so far from what he calls home, he’s never felt more alone.
