A/N: This was a bit hurried in the end, because I didn't want to wait for another day or two before getting to this. (Work keeps me busy, sigh.)
Runaway Train
chapter 7
whatever works
Doflamingo leaned his cheek against the back of his hand as he watched the river through the window. The water glittered beneath the dim light that came from the docks, but overall, darkness had conquered the day by now.
His face held no smile this time, perhaps because of the person his thoughts centered around.
Trafalgar Law, the young man he had encountered at a bar all those months ago… the one that made adrenaline rush through Doflamingo's veins a little quicker every time.
"Tch," Doflamingo made a sound of annoyance as the feeling of Law's skin beneath his fingers came to mind. As absent as Law sometimes seemed to be — detached, lonely, isolated — there were times when the flame of life flickered in Law's eyes, and Doflamingo found himself deeply enthralled.
Maybe collecting the strays of this world was a bad habit, but Doflamingo couldn't help himself — Baby 5, Buffalo, Trébol, every single one of them — and that was the case with Law as well.
Or… a little different, Doflamingo acknowledged as he absentmindedly ran his fingers down the most sensitive part of his skin. This greed that burned in his stomach was familiar, and Doflamingo liked to indulge himself as much as he could — it was too bad Law wasn't as willing to indulge either one of them.
But the look on Law's face the previous day had been promising; it wouldn't take long until Law would crack… or not much at least. Doflamingo's lips twitched into a smile even as he let out a throaty gasp, eyelids fluttering behind the shades he still wore.
If Law agreed, then Doflamingo would never have to bother coming here himself again. Never, ever again. That thought was comforting; Doflamingo hated this city, though he doubted his feeling matched that of Law's in intensity.
He sensed that hatred that crawled beneath Law's skin; he felt it every time Law's nails dug into him with desperation. Law never cried, nor complained, but inwardly, some part of Law was screaming and struggling.
That part was growing weaker — and Doflamingo tried to keep it alive.
Even if it meant pushing Law too hard and way too far. Sometimes someone as stubborn as Law needed all the possible nudges a person could give before he would relent.
Like hell he'd let Law of all people slip away from his grasp — from his life.
.
.
.
Law's heart thumped inside his chest like the hooves of race horses against the track ground, and for a moment he wasn't sure whether his ribs could handle the pounding against them.
A cold fear clawed at him, the memories from six years ago returning to him. The news broadcast — the shootings — the sick people that had been killed, slaughtered for the sake of getting rid of the Syndrome.
He'd be killed, too. He'd be put down like a dog without any mercy — and while Law wasn't too keen on living, he wanted his death to happen on his own terms, not by others'.
"You're just imagining things," Law said, voice gruff and mouth dry, and he tried not to swallow. His hand at his side twitched, the urge to cover his neck strong enough to make him restless. He was terrified, and the trauma from back then… "Must be the weird lightning."
"No, dude, I swear that looks like," the dealer frowned, "just like that one thing from a couple years ago… what was that…"
"You're imagining things," Law said more forcefully, stepping forward and patting the man on the shoulder. Thank god white hadn't spread to his hands yet, or else this might be harder.
"Yeah, guess so," the dealer muttered, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told Law everything he needed to know. He was out of time. He had run out of it this very instant, and fuck, he might… he might have to concede to Doflamingo's suggestion, after all. Law clenched his jaw at the thought. He was out of precious time. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that he could live in the White City any longer.
"See you later," Law mumbled back as he passed his drug dealer, ignoring the gaze he felt burning on his neck, the eyes that tried to locate the white spots on his neck. Heart pounding, Law kept on walking with an even pace, his steps echoing down the alley.
He knew Diez wasn't leaving — he didn't hear the footsteps — and so he kept the space at what it was until he was far enough, a few blocks from the dealer, and only then he dared to slow down and exhaled.
Shit. Shitshishit—
Law pulled his sleeves up and inspected the white marks curling down his arms, almost reaching his wrists now, and he felt a little more nauseous. The white was very glaring in the dim light of the night-time.
Then, he pulled out his phone as he hurried his steps towards the docks, fingers quickly dialing the number he had called occasionally when the need to talk had been strong.
His heart refused to calm down even when Penguin picked up a few moments later. "…Cap'n?"
Law glanced around the darkness, willfully ignoring the way every one of hs limbs quivered from the previous fright. "Penguin," he breathed out as he rounded a corner, pressing himself against the stone-cold wall as equally cold sweat trickled down his neck. "I need… help."
Penguin seemed to realize something was up, not only from Law's words but also from his tone of voice — Law was usually composed, almost uncaring with his speech, and now the perpetual calmness had been shaken.
"This is something serious, isn't it," Penguin concluded, voice dropping low, and judging from the background sounds, Penguin had been out somewhere. Law bit on his lip, anxiety and fear in his stomach like a lead weight. The fear of being found out — the fear of someone discovering his disease — it had all grown into a monster during these years, from the moment Law had first discovered white spots on his skin two months after his family's deaths.
(He was a realist — there was no way they were still alive.)
"Yes," Law said slowly, "I need to get away from the City."
Penguin's sudden intake of breath said more than words ever could about how surprised he was to hear Law say such a thing, and Law's lips twitched mildly at that, almost but not quite laughing.
"…How soon?" Penguin, at least, had the sense to not ask stupid questions like "what happened" and "are you alright".
"As soon as possible," Law murmured. "Tonight, if possible, but you don't live that close, so…"
"So, it IS an emergency, after all. Fuck." Penguin remained silent for a few good moments. "Isn't there any way you could get out of there on your own and I'd come pick you up outside the City?"
"Yeah, that's what I thought about doing." The sewer system was an extensive one, perhaps that way… Law wrinkled his nose in disgust, though he knew that might very well be the only way for him to escape the hell that was about to be set loose. "There's a small town about five miles out of the City; you think you can make it there?"
"Yeah, no problem. I've been there before with Shachi before I got to know you. I'll check when the train leaves for the place, and I'll let you know when I'm going, okay?"
"That's good," Law whispered, heart leaping again when he heard footsteps coming his way. "But I have to go now. Talk to you later, Penguin."
"Wha— wait—" Law hung up without another word, sucking in a quick breath and slowly sneaking further into the pitch-black alley where no artificial light reached. He stayed still, listening to the heavy footsteps that came closer and closer, and Law's heart beat along to the rhythm of the steps.
The paranoia of the prey had kept him alive so far; doing everything he could to hide the marks on his skin, he had managed to survive in the environment where spots of white were a crime worse than murder.
The footsteps stopped, and Law could hear the person's breathing — in response, he withheld his own breaths as he ignored the clammy feeling in his palms.
A bright light emerged in the midst of the darkness, and Law tensed up. A lighter, he figured, and he was right: the person he was staring sideways had lit a cigarette.
Then came the waiting game Law hated, but it was cut off by shouts from a distance.
"—the Syndrome! Can't believe there was someone we missed those years ago—"
"—a drug dealer notified us—"
"—to be killed on sight!"
The shouts startled the person Law kept an eye on, and for a brief moment, the lit cigarette showed the person's face — covered in heavy make-up, it was quite a sight — and Law exhaled a little too loudly.
"…" The feet now shuffled towards him, and Law cursed himself as every fiber of his being told him to run off and fast— but where to? There were others looking for him already: one misstep, and he'd be a goner.
Law regretted, he regretted…
A hand closed in around his wrist, and he was tugged roughly forward to face the smoker, whose face was inteed quite the colorful canvas of make-up — three triangle-shaped marks beneath one eye, eyeliner, and lipstick that reminder Law distinctly of Heath Ledger's Joker, and that made the man much creepier, though Law had dealt with a few shady personalities before too.
The man hovered over Law — much like Doflamingo did, but Doflamingo was an inch or three more intimidating — and looked down at him, eyes narrow as if searching for something on Law's face. Then his eyes settled on Law's neck, and with the light from the moon and the cigarette, the white shapes were visible. Law stiffened some more; this was Bad with a capital B.
The man looked at him thouhgtfully, dim blue eyes evaluating Law in a manner that only made the silence more stifling.
"This is some mistake," Law managed, his eyes caught by the blue ones. Inexpressive and small, there was nothing special about those eyes, but Law got the odd sense of… familiarity? Or perhaps it was the blond hair that peeked out underneath the woolen hat the silent man wore.
Never uttering a word, the man slowly let go of Law and gestured Law to follow him with a single finger wriggle. Law scoffed. He wasn't a fool — and he wasn't that trusting, either.
But what choice did he have? He could hear the shouts, he could hear the deafening sounds of police sirens echo in the distance.
He followed the stranger in silence — fuck, this was such a bad idea, following someone he had never met before or didn't know through someone — heart beating loudly against his ribs as the whole city bustled into life to catch the diseased man.
It was only when they passed through a full-lit street in a hurry that Law noticed the man's coat — black feathers covered it completely, and it blended into Law's black-and-white world completely, but Law had another epiphany.
Could he be…?
The hope was frustrating, but Law explained it away with his own current situation. Any connection to Doflaming would be relieving under these circumstances, he thought as he sneaked after the other, staring at the broad shoulders that hid Law behind them when they got too close to the crowded areas.
Doflamingo's ship was most likely the only reasonable way to escape now, he realized grimly. Escaping to the sewers now would be discovered — perhaps people were already looking into the pipes — and Law's lips curled into a self-loathing snarl.
.
.
.
Doflamingo had just taken a long, luxurious bath, when Baby 5 peeked into his quarters after knocking softly on the door the usual five times.
"What?" the man questioned, lifting an eyebrow at Baby 5's flustered expression. Please don't let it be ANOTHER groom, he thought to himself as his lips curved into a disapproving frown.
She hesitated, her fingers anxiously tugging at her dark curls. "Corazon came back."
"Oh, he finished his job, then?" Doflamingo's lips stretched into an easy smile at the thought of his brother. "He went to get the money before coming here, since he's this late… go figure."
"He brought Law with him."
Doflamingo's face froze momentarily at the mention of Law's name. True, he had perhaps expected Law to pop up that day, but… "Corazon brought Law?"
Baby 5 nodded her head once, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "Yeah, and Law seems really… out of it. He's all weird."
Doflamingo nodded as he turned around, fingers caressing over the feathers of the coat that lay on the back of a mahogany chair. "Have Law come here, and tell Corazon I'll talk to him later." Doflamingo's smile widened on his face at the thought of Law and their recent night together. He could almost taste Law on his lips, and he licked at ther corners of his mouth expectantly.
.
.
.
.
Corazon, Law noticed in the better light, was a splitting image of Doflamingo, though with different hair and fashion style — if the fluttery coat was excluded, and Law did his best to ignore the fluffy monstrosity of clothing.
They had reached the ship with surprising ease that Law couldn't trust, and boarded it with just as much easiness that made Law uneasy.
He, the leper of society, boarding the ship with people that could be royalties for all he knew — while he wasn't one to care for the differences in social status, he was afraid.
Afraid that he wouldn't be safe there either.
Even the fact that Corazon was a clumsy (and creepy with the silent treatment) bastard didn't take the prickles of anxiety away, and he absently watching Corazon set his coat on fire twice while boarding the goddamn ship. It was funny, really; everyone else laughed — Baby 5 and Diamante and all the others did, really — but Law couldn't find it in himself to even chuckle at Corazon's misfortune.
Now that he was inside the ship, where no one would kill him — well, Doflamingo himself at least wouldn't —, the anxiety was burning out and turning into weariness that went beyond simple physical strain. The damage was done. He wouldn't be able to return to his apartment. Jack, the dealer, knew his address, and that would undoubtedly be raided first.
"Law," Baby 5 murmured to him after skipping back from wherever she had gone to — he hadn't particularly noticed her leave before — and he tilted his head as a sign that he was listening.
"Young master wants to see you."
Young master meant Doflamingo, Law's mind cleared that for him, and Law felt unease curl up tighter inside him as Baby 5's hand brushed his neck, over the white spots and effectively startled him.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Law grunted as he pushed her hand away, the touch tingling on his skin like a burn mark, and hurried off to the corridor Doflamingo's room was located. It was easy to ignore the murmurs from the others, but it was harder to ignore the feeling of Corazon's eyes on his back, curiosity in the dim eyes burning holes to Law's skin.
Law entered Doflamingo's quarters without knocking or any other pre-warning. The door had been open, which was an invitation enough for him to come in, that's what he figured.
"Doflamingo," he said hoarsely, hands stiff by his sides as he stepped over the threshold into the vast, luxurious room that felt as intimate as the day before when Doflamingo's hands had roamed around Law's body with unrestricted freedom.
Doflamingo was sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for Law, and Law's eyes trailed down as he took in the sight of the towel around Doflamingo's waist and the broad expanse of bare skin above the towel, muscles rippling with the tiniest movements.
"Law," Doflamingo's familiar voice put Law at ease, the fear back to its place in the far corners of his mind, "you came."
Law took a breath, hesitating as Doflamingo's fingers wriggled for Law to come to him. The worries and anxiety from earlier made Law obey the wordless demand silently, and he didn't protest when he was pulled over to Doflamingo's lap, ignoring even the skin-on-skin heat Doflamingo was fond of.
He closed his eyes when Doflamingo's lips brushed against a pulse point at his neck, right where one of the white spots lay. Law's fingers clutched at Doflamingo's shoulders, and there was a question on his mind — were you serious when you asked me to come with you?
