Roci hadn't woken up yet. The doctor said he was being brain dead for the time being. If he wouldn't wake up in a month, Doflamingo was advised to pull the plug by then which he of course did not want to at all.

But he had survived that accident. Doflamingo was conflicted because he did not know whether to be ecstatic or to be sorrowful. Ecstatic because his brother still had chances to survive this misfortune but sorrowful because his brain was critically damaged, which could leave him obtuse for the rest of his life.

The surgeon who had saved his life seemed to be too interested in Roci. He visited often to check on Roci, too often for Doflamingo's liking.

At times he would find the young surgeon standing outside of the window looking in when he was coming to visit his younger brother. He would be noticed nonetheless. The young man had sharp eyes for someone who was sleep-deprived, as evident in the bags under his eyes.

He acknowledged the young surgeon in his brother with distaste however showing it directly would put in in a disadvantage. Apparently, he was adored by his colleagues. Doflamingo would be stupid to go against that surgeon, Trafalgar Law. If he had, that would be against the hospital that was saving his brother's life.


Law had been watching the man with the scars and injuries much like his own markings. He had suspicions and theories but it was best to not raise any questions.

"Donquixote Rocinante"

Law felt like he had seen or heard that name before. But his memories were hazy. He desired a good sleep then which was odd. But he was no longer needed at the hospital and he left at 16:13 that day, heading home.

Home to him was a messy chilly flat but he could live with it. He didn't have clothes laying here and there but books, newspapers, leaflets, papers. Papers were everywhere. But Law liked it. He would clean up sometimes and be organised. However, that day was not one of those days.

He stared at the living room in disdain. His favourite sleeping spot, the holy settee, was covered in papers. Paid bills, adverts, unopened letters. Law sighed in exasperation. He rid his settee of the pesky paper by a wave of his hand and they all fell on to the floor. Law promptly swung himself on the settee. He curled into a comfortable position and fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes.


At the meantime, Doflamingo was by Rocinante's side. A vase of sunflowers on the table beside the latter's hospital bed. To Doflamingo, it was a change compared to the sickening whiteness of the hospital.

Roci had always loved sunflowers so he didn't think twice before buying a bouquet on his way to visit his younger brother. Baby 5 came by earlier, leaving a bouquet of lavender. It still sat idly at the end of the bed, waiting to be picked up.

Doflamingo just sat languidly there, shifting then and now beside. His fingers were knitted together, thumbs rubbing against calloused skin.

In and out, he breathed. Doflamingo felt sick, inhaling the odour of hospital and medicine. Of imprisonment, he thought.

Time flew by as Doflamingo sat beside Roci. A nurse came in to remind him of the time and to check up on Roci's conditions. After looking at numbers and words foreign to him, she said Roci's health was improving and that he could go home with good news like that. Doflamingo thanked her and she had nodded.

After she had left, he held up Roci's left hand, the one that was not connected to wires and machines, and gingerly pressed his lips on the smooth skin.

"See you again, Roci."