Thank you so much to every single one of you who have followed and favorited this story! It means so much to me to see even the smallest bit of interest!

Special thanks to sam-free15, marionerixson, and BatmanSwim2016 for reviewing and giving me special requests for future chapters!

Daddy Law, requested by marionerixson.

And a happy birthday to our favorite doctor, Trafalgar Law! Warning: there will be spoilers from the manga for those of you who are only anime watchers.

Trafalgar Law sighed at the sight that met him first thing that morning, an empty sub and a note written in his wife's handwriting.

Law, I'll be going out today to get a few things with Shachi, Penguin and Bepo. Please look after Cora until I get back. She seemed to be running a fever earlier and may be coming down with something, so if you could make sure it's nothing serious, I would appreciate that as well.

Love always, your wife

He snorted, crumpling the note in his hand before padding down the hall toward his six-year-old daughter's room. His wife owed him big time for this... He was a doctor, sure, but dealing with sick children wasn't something he was very excited to do, even if the child in question was his only flesh and blood child.

Knuckles gently rapped against the door and Law was met with the sound of hacking and sniffling. "M-Mama?"

He winced at the sound. It seemed his wife hadn't been lying when she mentioned their daughter had possibly come down with something. "No Corazon," he slowly opened the door to find his little daughter sitting up in her bed, her gray eyes bleary as she coughed once again. "It's Daddy, I've come to check on you since Mama and the others have left the sub for a short time."

The girl sneezed in response. Oh, how the Surgeon of Death hated to deal with sick children...

"Cora?"

The raven-haired little girl, Trafalgar Corazon, swayed back and forth before collapsing onto her back. "Just leave me here to die..." she rasped under her breath.

And there were the dramatics. Honestly, Law had no idea where the girl got it from. Sighing, he shook his head and padded across the floor until he was right at his daughter's bed, reaching a hand down to press against her forehead.

He hadn't expected her forehead to be so warm and immediately pulled his hand back, quickly scooping Corazon into his arms before carrying her out of her room. "We need to get liquids in you immediately."

"N-Nooooo Daddy," she whined, burying her face in her father's shirt before blowing her nose on the material. "I don' wanna..."

There was now snot on his shirt, snot and who knew what other crud and germs were there. Law shuddered, but Corazon didn't seem to notice and instead whimpered. "Well, I'm afraid that we all have things that need to be done even though we would prefer not to do them, Cora."

Now Law adored his daughter, but there were times when he was completely abhorred by the things that could come from his little angel. Such as the phlegm and snot that now covered his shirt.

Once they had arrived to the galley, Law deposited his daughter into one of the seats and again felt her forehead. It seemed the fever hadn't broken, so liquids were a must in that moment. "What would you like to eat and drink?"

A little pink tongue poked out, running along dry and chapped lips. "I want some toast 'n jam," she managed to croak out.

Gray eyes immediately narrowed. "You're not getting bread, Corazon," he snapped. "Pick something else." Why in Rogers name had he been blessed with a child who seemed to love any and all foods with bread in them?

"B-But I want toast..."

"No toast! No bread of any kind!"

The moment her father began to yell at her, little gray orbs watered and Corazon sniffled, turning her gaze down. Law groaned and turned his back to her. Just ignore the girl and she'll get over it and pick something else to eat.

He reached a hand forward, ready to grab a can of broth when the sniffling intensified. Law stiffened before straightening up and placing the can onto the counter. If she wanted to pitch a fit, then let her. Broth and ginger ale would help soothe her stomach, he decided.

Then the sniffling turned into a choked sob. Law could literally feel his eye twitch as his hands curled into fists on top of the counter. Soon after, the sob turned into a pitiful wail and the young father whirled around to find his only child bawling, big fat tears falling down her cheeks.

"D-Does Daddy h-hate m-m-me?"

The Surgeon of Death was suddenly taken back to the memory of another sobbing little girl from so long ago. He had found it hard at first to get used to being a father and to grow attached to the daughter that had been completely unplanned, mainly for the fact that she reminded him so much of the younger sister he had lost when he had been a child himself, Lamy. But he loved his daughter without a doubt, would die for her if need be.

Without saying a word, the doctor reached down and gently picked his still crying daughter up, rubbing a hand down her back in a soothing manner. "Of course I don't," he murmured softly. "Do you really think Daddy hates you, Cora?"

He was given a shaky shrug of shoulders. "I-I d-don' know..." Law sighed before freezing at a familiar sound, one that was the sound of retching. Screwing his eyes shut, he waited for his daughter to finish emptying the contents of her stomach right onto his shoulder before shuddering.

Stay calm, don't do anything rash, don't look at the vomit on your shirt, don't think about the fact that there is indeed vomit all over your shoulder.

Again the little girl began to sob. "I-I...'m sorry, D-Daddy!"

It took every ounce of strength within Trafalgar Law to not lose it right then and there in that moment. "It's alright, Cora," he slowly began. "Why don't we both get cleaned up and then we'll see about that toast for your breakfast?"

"...r-really?"

Law managed to give a slight smirk as he stared down into eyes that were identical to his own. "If that's what you really want." He loved his daughter to the point that he would even touch the disgusting substance that was bread if need be. "But only one piece of toast."

He had his limits after all.