Chapter 14: Epithelialization
It was not by luck that Aokiji first found Ava Skye Spade, abandoned in a deserted alleyway in the Lawless Groves of Shabondy Archipelago, the day after he was promoted to Admiral.
Part of the requirements of accepting Admiralship was spending three months on Shabondy, to familiarize oneself with the whims of the Tenryuubito and to be on reserve should Marine forces be called upon. The Shabondy base was by far Aokiji's least favorite base to be stationed at—he'd been chastised more than once about his lackadaisical behavior around the Tenryuubito, and he had no intention of rectifying his attitude.
He had a slow start to the morning, deliberately avoiding Charles, the Nobleman he was supposed to be shadowing. Honestly, as Aokiji strolled through the Groves and munched on a sandwich, he was surprised he hadn't been called earlier about his unpunctuality. When he finally found the Nobleman, Charles was emerging out of a dark alleyway on the back of a human slave, expression bored when he saw the Admiral.
Aokiji reluctantly bowed his head in greeting.
"Ah, you there. You're late. Go and clean up. I can't stand the sound of the screaming."
There was indeed screaming, a high-pitched wail that made Aokiji nauseous—it clearly belonged to a child. Aokiji merely nodded his head and ducked into the backstreet, nearly bumping into another slave guard several steps in. The burly man looked on the verge of tears.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't want to—she's just a child."
Aokiji ignored him and strode quickly down the street, his boots squelching in mud and refuse as the smell of blood reached his nose. He was somewhat impressed Charles had been in this alleyway at all; it was far from pristine.
The screaming and despaired sobbing became louder and more incessant as Aokiji reached the dead-end of the street, where he found a grisly sight. A young girl, surrounded in blood, clutched her legs that were shattered underneath a heavy anchor. Pieces of bone protruded from her skin, jagged edges of marrow and tissue exposed and raw. The body of a comely woman with long dark hair was sprawled near the child, unmoving and still bleeding from a single bullet wound to the head. It was a preferable way to go, compared to what the child was experiencing. Both of them were dressed in fine clothing, and given the company that had just left them, it was not difficult to piece together that this was a nameless wife that the Nobleman had grown bored of. The bastard child was nothing more than a nuisance to eliminate, though it truly was unduly cruel not to end her life in the same way.
Gingerly, Aokiji moved the anchor. The child's screams only intensified with the removal of the weight, which Aokiji tossed to the side as easily as if it were a pillow. At the sight, the girl's eyes widened, and her wails slowly became loud and pained hiccups. Aokiji kneeled down in front of her.
"I can't feel them," she sobbed, tears pouring down her face. "I can't move them."
"They're gone," said Aokiji calmly. "You won't be able to use them anymore."
"Why," she cried. "Why did this happen, my mom, we didn't do anything wrong! It hurts, it hurts…"
Children were never his forte, always loud and unpredictable, but he knew when pity and mercy were warranted. Aokiji opened his mouth to provide some empty words of comfort when he felt it—the slight but undeniable rise of Haki. It was undefined and poorly controlled, but he could sense it, concentrating underneath her skin like a flickering flame.
The girl looked up at him, hatred etched in every contortion of her face as her mouth uttered the words that no child should've been able to say with such conviction,
"I'm going to kill them all."
She looked no more than seven years old; she was in excruciating pain, and she'd just seen her mother murdered in front of her.
But Aokiji believed her.
"Are you one of them?" she whispered, her words startlingly clear despite that her tiny frame was racked in pain.
"No," he said despite not knowing who exactly the 'them' referred to. "I am not."
Aokiji, at thirty-four, was the youngest Admiral appointed in the history of the Marines. Seen by his men as a casual, almost careless superior, Kuzan often heard that his cavalier attitude made it difficult for people to gauge what he really wanted out of his Admiralship. Why ascend so quickly through the Marine ranks if he did not want the Fleet Admiral position in the end?
It was all much more simple than that to Aokiji. He held a moral code, one that he sought to uphold through his strength and his power, regardless of circumstance. The Tenryuubito and the protection the Marines offered them went against that very moral code. Similarly, killing children was also not included.
The easiest thing to do was to bring her to a hospital, then send her to an orphanage, thereby washing his hands clean of this mess.
But Aokiji could see briefly into her future if he were to do so. She would grow up full of hatred, anger, and an uncontrollable Haki that would bubble and fester until one day it consumed her completely. People were not defined by blood, but by their circumstance. This abandoned child who showed the capability of using Haki could become an issue, especially if left unchecked.
"I am a Marine Admiral," Aokiji said. "I am going to take you to a hospital. After that, you have a choice. You can go to an orphanage, or you can come with me to the Marines. I think you have promise, and I can teach you."
"Teach me?" she repeated, green eyes alight. "To do what?"
Aokiji knew that the girl did not need further convincing, but he brought the message home.
"To do what you want. I can teach you how to kill a god."
Spade sat on the roof of the Whitebeard base, alone except with the wind and her Mushi. She was growing frustrated; both Fujitora and Aokiji still had not contacted her, and she could not decide which she was more worried about. She listened intently to all channels possible of the Underworld for any glimpse of her Hurricane identity being compromised, but she heard none. Fujitora had not revealed her secret, but she could not understand why he had still not left a message, especially since Doflamingo's escape from Impel Down was now weeks ago.
Similarly, Spade double and triple-checked her SOS Mushi to make sure that it was functional. It was, and the red Mushi looked only angrier with her prodding, but Spade was anxious. She'd known from the start that Aokiji's contact would be infrequent with the start of his double-agent role, but she wanted something from him just to confirm that he was well. It would also help assuage Marco's suspicions; he was never fully convinced of Aokiji's loyalty. That Aokiji had saved her from execution was not enough for Marco and Spade could not blame him. She was not terribly skilled at conveying her firm belief in her old mentor—Kuzan was so easygoing about everything that it was difficult to convince even herself sometimes when he was serious. But she knew Aokiji would've never affiliated with Blackbeard on his own accord, and Spade knew down to her very bones that Aokiji was good.
She regretted deleting the last message he'd sent, full of laughs at her idiocy.
Marco joined her out in the open just as Spade hung up her Interceptor Mushi.
"Anything new?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Still nothing. I'm worried."
Marco knew whom she was talking about. "You're always worried. The man wasn't an Admiral for no reason, Spade. He's fine."
"I don't like the thought of him and Doflamingo together," she said thinly.
"Doflamingo ain't that scary," he said breezily.
Spade rolled her eyes. "Not everyone can be freakishly strong like you, Marco."
"True, but Kuzan and I can go head-to-head."
"True," she admitted as she stood up and looked over the edge of the base. "Did you finish talking with Law?"
"Mm. We're joinin' the alliance."
She stared at him. "What? You already decided? You told him? Are you crazy?"
"No," he said easily. "I've thought about everything. I'm gettin' Trafalgar to finish his Indigo Ring research under the guise that we'll need leverage against Blackbeard in case he dies. That'll give me a cure and will also keep my condition under wraps. I'm bringin' his crew here for evaluation and so I can keep an eye on them."
"Burgess—"
"Is dead," Marco interrupted. "I shot his heart. I want you to announce to the Underworld that you did it. Then, when we leave for Wano, I want you to show yourself far away and lead Blackbeard toward you while we fight Kaidou so he won't be anywhere near us for clean-up."
In any other circumstance, Spade would've been proud of Marco. Her mind whirred for a loophole, but all her insecurities relied on her distrusting Law's capabilities, which was a poor bet to make. She knew Law could complete his research in time. Marco, unhindered by the aftershock spasms, was on par with a Yonkou.
This was doable.
He seemed to guess her thoughts for her stupefaction, for he grinned.
"I know, I did a good job," he said lightly. "You can praise me."
Spade scowled at him.
"You're sending me away," she said.
"I am. It makes sense," he said.
"I don't like it, still. I'll be worried about you."
"Me, or Trafalgar?" Marco grinned.
"You, you idiot," she snapped. "I'm always worried about you."
Marco rested his hand on her head. "Don't be. We've been hidin' for too long. It's 'bout time to come outta the shadows. If we pull this off, this'll be a huge way to return." His expression became serious. "I need you to be fuckin' careful. Do not engage Blackbeard. I need you back, alive, in one piece." Marco took her hands in his and grasped them tightly. "We will kill Blackbeard together. And then we'll overthrow the Marines, the Nobility, the World Government."
It was not comparable. Whatever she felt for Law now, whatever she'd felt for him the night before when they'd slept innocently in each other's arms, that peace and quiet and feeling of forgetting, they weren't comparable to what she felt now.
This was what Spade had been working for since Ace had died, but it honestly felt like longer. As if her entire life culminated to this moment, the path to smashing the stagnancy that had lulled since the Summit War. They would dismantle the systems of injustice that had guided this world for far too long.
"It's happening, Marco," she whispered.
He nodded. "It's happenin'."
Peace was a state of being that had escaped Law for as long as he could remember. There had been times when he'd caught glimpses of this state, when he was with his crew after a great victory, only for it to disappear the next day, when Law was no longer inebriated and had to plan for his next step. It was therefore odd that in the throes of battle preparation, Law found himself close to it now.
The Whitebeard commanders were eager to re-emerge from their solitude and largely agreed with Marco's decision to join the Alliance; they attributed this opportunity to Law, and as such, the hostility toward him gradually diminished. Those who still questioned Law were skeptical of his abilities, but Marco provided ample occasions for Law to prove his worth. He was asked to spar with a different Commander multiple times throughout the day, with Marco observing all the while. Law's ability to fight on par with at least half of the Commanders earned him respect, albeit begrudgingly from some, and the attitude toward him eased.
Law had expected some resentment from Spade, given that she had been the most vocally opposed to the Alliance, but perhaps Marco's thorough planning alleviated her anxiety, for she remained quite friendly with Law. Friendly was likely an understatement. Spade had virtually stopped caring about keeping their relationship a secret, and though she was not a publically clingy person, there were slight actions around others that surprised him: a gentle hand to his cheek, a smile directed toward him and only him, the slight leaning of her body against his when they shared a newspaper. He was unsure of what to do with the familiarity: sometimes it made him uncomfortable; other times, he delighted in seeing this side of Spade, softer and kind, trusting and uncalculating.
As such, Law had gotten everything he'd come to the Whitebeards for and more: Marco had agreed to the Alliance, he was close to finishing his Indigo Ring research, and whatever feelings he had for Spade were clearly reciprocated. Were it not for a curdling guilt that ate at his innards, Law would've admitted that despite being on the brink of a war, he was content, almost happy.
But guilt was a horrific feeling, a gnawing acidity that burned its way through his insides at a terribly sluggish but persistent pace. The issue of Burgess being alive was one that Law laid awake at night debating. Wary of his growing blind spot that contained Spade, Law had brought the heart of a nameless contact as a precaution—walking into enemy territory alone and at the mercy of a woman he'd known for mere weeks was far from prudent. Burgess's heart was therefore leverage that Law had intended to pull should his own life be threatened; he had not, however, expected Burgess's own life to mean so little. It was a poor mistake that was completely uncharacteristic of Law in its shortsightedness but not in its paranoia. Other people's feelings were terribly unreliable, and Law never bet on them if he could help it.
In retrospect, though, he should've known better than to bet against Spade.
That cruel streak and that wildness were very present in her; Law had seen it on multiple occasions, and knew that his own moral ambiguity attracted Spade for this very reason. Yet, Spade constantly decided to do what was right over enacting her own selfish ambitions. Law had reason to suspect that this behavior was not actually second nature but instead a series of conscious choices that, after years of training and proper guidance from appropriate moral compasses, had become close to innate. After meeting Marco, Law realized that the chance of being backstabbed by Spade and the Whitebeards was subzero. It was hard not to like Marco and even harder not to trust him, and it was obvious who Spade's moral compass was.
Hindsight was always 20/20, but unfortunately Law's current situation remained a clusterfuck. The easiest and likely smartest option was to call his crew and have them kill Burgess, but finding time alone to make the call was ridiculously difficult. Law was constantly training, researching, or strategizing with Marco and the other commanders. Even his showers typically had Spade in them, and given that both were so busy, the quick daily fuck was something that neither of them wanted to give up for a moment of solitude.
There was also another slight problem: a little part of Law wanted to keep Burgess alive and exchange him for Doflamingo.
It was a stupid, terrible thought. But things had been going so smoothly for Law that he felt greedy—if he could just have this additional triumph, if he could get Doflamingo as his prisoner…Law's victory would truly be complete.
And so he did not tell Spade or Marco the truth, instead devising ways out of his predicament while trying to keep all his cards. He had until he completed the Indigo Ring research, which gave him several more days as the petal and bulb extracts were purified into capsules through a complex distillation process. He could not stall for long; news had surfaced in the Underworld that Luffy's group had successfully escaped Big Mom. The Whitebeards would need to set sail soon.
It was late at night, now eight days since their arrival at the Whitebeard base, and Law was restless. Beside him, curled up against the wall, Spade slept peacefully, her breaths even. Marco had scheduled her an intensive training regimen, and when Spade wasn't busy with that, she was up on the base's roof, listening to her Mushi and mapping out the route she would lead the Blackbeard fleet on. She was working hard. Law did not want to think what her reaction would be should she find out the truth.
Law let out a breath, feeling stifled. He shifted and sat up, careful in his movements, but behind him Spade stirred.
"Hey," she murmured, voice heavy and drowsy. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he muttered. "Go back to sleep."
Instead, he heard shuffling and the dip in the mattress as Spade scooted behind him.
"Can't sleep?" she asked, breath tickling his ear as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
"I'm fine," he said curtly, standing up and pulling away from her. He needed time alone. "Just need a smoke."
Spade got the hint and lied back down. "Fine. Was gonna offer sex if you couldn't sleep, but be that way."
Law couldn't help but chuckle. At the sound, Spade smiled crookedly up at him.
"Cigs and lighter are in my desk drawer," she said. "But if you want to talk about anything, I'm here."
Law strode to the desk, but instead of leaving the room like he'd originally intended, he went back to the bed and sat down on the edge.
"Want one?" he said, handing her a white stick.
"Yeah." She held her cigarette still as Law lit hers, then his own. "When I get some god-awful disease from these, you'll heal me, right?"
"For a price, certainly."
"Friend discount?" she purred.
He arched an eyebrow at her. "Is that what we are?"
Spade sat up fully and leaned against the wall. She was wearing one of Law's old T-shirts with the yellow Jolly Roger on its front as a sleeping shirt. Her hair waved messily over her face, but lately, the thought that she was beautiful had begun to cross Law's mind. Attraction was one thing, but the compliment bordered reverence—Law was not the reverent type.
"At the least, right?" she said casually as she blew out a ring of smoke.
Law took a deep drag of his cigarette, welcoming the slight burn. "I suppose."
"What, is the fuck buddy's discount more?" she grinned.
Law let out a small laugh. "Perhaps."
He crawled over to her and took the space to her left. Their legs sprawled over the mattress, Law's hanging over the edge. Spade rested her head against his shoulder and Law mirrored the move, placing his temple against the top of her head. The silence was cozy and Law felt his body relax, the irritation that had fueled his insomnia withering into something warmer.
"It's not just me, is it?" Spade said, soft voice breaking the silence. "Feeling…" Her cigarette-occupied hand gesticulated, "whatever this is?"
He could've played dumb. This was an easy conversation to avoid—Spade had already set the tone with the term "fuck buddy." It was easy to veer off this path to dangerous territory.
"No," he heard himself say. "It's not just you."
Spade breathed out and it sounded like relief. "Okay."
Law smirked. "That's it? Okay?"
"Well, didn't really know where you wanted to go from there," she said wryly. "You're about to go to war, I'm about to leave on a potentially fatal decoy mission. Seems like a poor time to talk about…feelings."
"A discussion we're both ill-equipped for," Law noted.
"Yeah. We're both shit at honesty." Spade took a long drag of her cigarette. "How long until you're finished with your Indigo Ring work?"
Law was a bit taken aback by the focus on work. "Several days, perhaps."
Spade nodded. "Okay. Marco wants me to leave a few days before you head out." She looked at him levelly. "We'll talk then."
It was a strange deadline to set, an odd appointment for Spade to pen down in her mental calendar, but Law was grateful that no discussion about feelings was about to unfold promptly. Both of them were equally apprehensive about the prospect, but Spade looked resolute.
"So what kept you up tonight?" she said.
Here it was. An opportunity for honesty, which Spade had just observed they were both shit at. Law could rectify this now with honesty, just tell her that he'd made a mistake and hadn't known how to tell her. This was a problem he could solve easily; they could just call Bepo and have the Heart Pirates kill Burgess and Marco's plan could continue as intended. Law did not need Doflamingo; he'd already won against him, and Kaidou was the bigger fish.
But Law couldn't. He knew Doflamingo and as long as the Heavenly Yaksha was out of shackles, he was cunning enough to manipulate himself back into a position of power. It was only a matter of time before Doflamingo resumed his role terrorizing the innocent and stampeding over Law's decade of work—no, Law could not let this go. It didn't matter if no one else understood. He needed Doflamingo, shackled as his prisoner.
"Law?" Spade said gently.
"I…"
Honesty was as bitter as poison, and Law could not bring himself to swallow it.
"I was thinking about you," he lied.
Spade looked bemused. "What about me?"
"About…about how you are a better person than me." It was not an entirely untruthful thought. "I thought we were rather similar in certain aspects, but recently…" He shrugged. "Perhaps I was mistaken."
"Please, be more vague," she said dryly.
"I merely meant—"
"I know what you meant," she cut in. "I was kidding." She glanced up at the ceiling. "We are similar. We're cautious and paranoid and don't like uncertainty. Robin also says we think too much."
"I meant a little more than that," he said mildly.
Spade sensed that he was suggesting something much darker. Law did not force it; Spade's preferences in the bedroom were already things she struggled with. Reflections on her even more disturbing desires seemed to be an overload of introspection he doubted she was prepared for.
As always, Spade took him by surprise.
"Did you know I was almost kicked out of the Marines twice?"
"No, but I am not surprised. What were your charges?"
"The second was stupid for insubordination," she said lightly, "because I kept digging into the Ohara Buster Call despite explicit orders to drop the case after I was removed from Robin's tracking team. It was the only time Aokiji really got angry with me. Didn't really matter—I left shortly after anyway."
Law chuckled. "And the first?"
Spade didn't answer immediately. "When I was thirteen, we started a torture and interrogation course. And I was…really good at it."
She paused, clearly choosing next words carefully.
"I always had a bit of a temper," she said slowly. "And it wasn't the typical traumatized child lashing out kind of thing. Aokiji always said that sometimes, I just went completely overboard when I was angry, and he couldn't tell if it was really anger…or pleasure." Spade blinked. "When we got to the torture course, I just went ballistic. They always made the scenarios really emotionally charged to justify the use of torture and I came close to killing one of our subjects once."
"When Aokiji heard, I thought he'd want to kick me out too," she continued. "I would've understood. I was a thirteen-year-old whose first instinct to hearing about even a hypothetical moral transgression was to tear a person to pieces. But he didn't. Aokiji taught me right from wrong but cautioned me that justice changes its shape, depending on where you stand. He didn't shame me for my impulses but taught me how to be critical before being compulsive. Without that kind of moderation…who knows where I'd be now." She ground her cigarette stub in a stone ashtray. "There are some people who are purely good and others who are purely evil. But for the majority of us, we fall somewhere in between. It's the choices we make that are good or evil." Her eyes flickered over to him. "We can only hope that they're good most of the time."
Law was silent for a long time after. Spade was not as terrible as honesty as she made herself out to be. He knew she was waiting for his confession, the real meat of his thoughts, but Law did not want to divulge. If choices made were good or evil, then let his simply be—a minor evil to overcome a major one like Doflamingo was a small sacrifice to pay.
He deflected the conversation away from himself.
"The way you speak of Aokiji is different from what I expected," he murmured.
"He was a good teacher. He wasn't like Akainu."
"He tried to execute you."
Spade just gave a thin smile in response.
"My only experience with him was at the Battle of Marineford," Law remarked. "He tried to freeze the ocean as we made off with Luffy."
Spade's smile only grew thinner. "If he'd really been trying, do you think you would've gotten away?"
Law did not know how to answer. Spade smiled up at him and kissed the corner of his mouth.
"You're not a bad person, Law," she murmured. "You've told me you're nice multiple times."
"I was just trying to fuck you," he said.
"Well, you succeeded," she laughed. "Don't worry, Law. I'm not friends with evil people. Now go to sleep."
She slid down on the mattress and rested her head on the pillow. Law followed her, his guilt perched comfortably on a throne inside of him.
Knowing nothing, Spade brought a hand up to comb through his hair. With the movement, Law caught sight of the tattoo on her underarm, the blue outline of a phoenix that he had once thought to be frozen in ice.
Spade was both the good and bad kind of anxious as she watched Marco examine the box of lilac pills. She and Marco had been practicing Haki meditation in the training room when Law had joined them to present his completed research. An entire shipment of lovely Indigo Rings had boiled down to a measly handful of approximately twenty pills.
"Properties?" The Phoenix lifted one in between his index finger and thumb and squinted at it.
"Five hours of absolutely zero pain, twelve hours of mitigated," reported Law. "It was the best I could do under the time constraints, but with more work, the formula can be adjusted for longer duration. I suspect Blackbeard wants a constant pain reliever for his crew but that's a bit unreasonable. Pain is an evolutionary mechanism for learning—its pathways aren't fully understood."
"Side effects?"
"Unsure, but hopefully none," Law said lightly.
"Seems a little too good to be true. Take a wild guess 'bout the worst that can happen."
"Indigo Ring overdose leads to an almost catatonic state," replied the doctor. "I imagine there could be a refractory period that requires monitoring, potentially fatal bradycardia or respiratory failure. Can't be certain without test subjects, but I suppose we have no need for those since we won't be using them."
Spade could see Marco silently debating something and frowned. "Don't be stupid, Marco."
"I'm not," he said calmly. "If you think about it, I'm really the best test subject for something like this—my body heals itself."
"You are the fuckin' captain of the Whitebeard Pirates, not a lab rat—"
Marco completely ignored her and swallowed a pill dry.
"What the fuck," Law said, stunned.
"What?" said Marco innocently. "It's not like you poisoned them, right? I can't be poisoned, by the way, so if you're tryin' to off me, bad plan."
"I'm not, but what kind of—"
"Why are you so stupid?!" Spade all but shouted, furious. "Spit it out!"
"Nah, if these things work, they're priceless," Marco said cheekily. "All right, Spade. Time to test. Get your Kairouseki cuff on, we're gonna fight."
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"Nope," said Marco, taking a set of cuffs from off the wall and tossing one at her. She caught it and glared at him. "It's been a while since we fought. You're goin' solo and I need ya to be able to fight your way out if ya get caught. Hand-to-hand combat, no Devil's Fruit abilities, just Haki."
She scowled and clipped her cuff on her right wrist. Marco typically oversaw her training, especially when it came to Haki manipulation, but the corporal contact often required Marco to contort in ways that triggered his aftershock spasms more often. With Law around, Marco had assigned Blenheim as Spade's training partner ("You still fight poorly when you're emotional—Blenheim pisses you off so practice with him."). This would be the first time Law would see Marco in action.
"This is a bad idea," she hissed at him as Law cleared the arena's floor. "You have no idea if this will work and if Law sees you in a spasm—"
"Stop worrying," he said breezily. "I see the way you look at 'im—there's no way you really believe he'd betray us."
"That's not the point."
"I'm trustin' your gut, Spade. Plus, I really just think this'll work." Marco placed the Kairouseki on his left wrist. "Somethin' tells me Law is pretty smart."
"And you're not."
Marco just smirked and stepped ten paces away. He stretched out his arms lazily.
"Come."
Spade gritted her teeth but dove in, Haki flitting through her limbs in precise bursts depending on her offense. The entire Whitebeard team trained like this often, Haki only, no Devil's Fruits. Given that Blackbeard's Yami Yami no Mi negated other Devil's Fruits abilities while gravitationally drawing people toward him, the ability to fight in close quarter combat was crucial. Even Logia users like Spade, who typically thrived from afar, needed to be able to defend and offend with Armament Haki effectively to do any damage to the Yonkou.
Marco was a naturally gifted and experienced combatant who, despite his smaller stature compared to many of the other Whitebeards, had never been bested in a close-combat duel. His Devil's Fruit ability could not be used offensively, which had forced Marco to adjust for offense through flawless Haki control. Spade strove to emulate it, though even after many years, its perfection escaped her.
They traded blows slowly at first. Spade was wary of Marco's condition, for despite his bravado, she was certain that he would not want Law to see him in a spasm. She wasn't even sure if all of the commanders knew about them; Marco had once suffered silently through an hour-long meeting with only a stony-faced expression and the faintest sheen of perspiration. Only after the meeting had concluded did Spade learn that he'd had an attack for the last half hour.
She aimed an easy punch to his face with her left hand, expecting his equally simple block before she followed immediately with a rapid uppercut. Marco leaned back slightly, her fist passing millimeters away from his chin, before he brought his knee to ram into her side effortlessly. Spade dodged in an ungainly manner, only for Marco to grab her by the waist and body slam her straight into the ground. Pain shot up her entire back and she gasped, dazed, but Marco was relentless. He straightened up and plunged a fist straight down, forcing her to roll away and propel back onto her feet.
"You're sloppy," he said. "If you're going easy on me 'cause you're worried, I'm gonna be pissed."
Spade dodged Marco's quick punches by ducking low and swinging her leg out, then upward in a kick. She caught his chest but felt her kick thud into his skin like she had hit a steel wall; her legs whirred to life and Marco's eyes narrowed as the mechanical aids crashed with further force. He leapt back, unfazed. Spade sped directly toward him, braking at the last split second before pivoting behind him. The added acceleration gave her a tremendous amount of centrifugal force to her kick; Marco did not dodge but instead reinforced his Armament Haki. The clash of her leg with his back led to a resounding booming force that would've pushed them meters away from each other, had Marco not whipped around immediately after to grab her ankle indecorously in the exchange.
"The fuck—"
"Blackbeard would do this to ya, Spade."
He yanked her upward without another notice. Spade felt her stomach lurch as her world turned upside-down; she felt the humiliating sensation of being suspended in the air like a ragdoll for a brief millisecond before she curved upward, furious, and sank her fingers into his wrist, each digit burning with Haki until she heard bones crack. Marco let go immediately, skidding backward as his right wrist hung stiffly at an awkward angle. Spade flipped and landed on her feet.
"Where'd you learn that?" he said.
"Saw Sabo from the Revolutionary Army do it Burgess in Dressrosa," she said. "His went through metal."
"Nice," said Marco, studying his broken wrist appreciatively without any sign of being in pain. "Good improv. You rely too much on your legs and it becomes predictable. Use your arms, too."
Marco took off his Kairouseki cuff. Spade arched an eyebrow.
"We're done?"
"For now."
The bright blue flames of his Phoenix form surrounded his right wrist immediately. A sickening snap sounded through the arena and the aura disappeared, leaving his wrist as good as new.
"And?" Spade said cautiously.
"No pain," he said casually. "Wouldn't have let go of you if I hadn't heard my wrist crack. Needed to heal it early so it wouldn't reset funny."
"What's wrong with your back?" said Law sharply.
The surgeon approached Marco swiftly, and Spade rushed to his side. Every muscle in Marco's back was twitching visibly and frenetically; he was clearly in the middle of a spasm, its epicenter right where Spade's kick had hit him, but he looked comfortable.
"Are you all right?" Law asked, clearly concerned.
"I'm really fine," said Marco. "No pain. Your pills work. Just stiff."
"Stiff enough that you had to stop," said Spade frantically.
Friendly blue flames erupted over Marco's profile, and he looked at her kindly.
"Not enough that I can't use my Phoenix form. I'll be fine."
"What's going on?" demanded Law.
"I have a slight condition," the Whitebeard commander said easily.
"Marco," Spade said warningly.
"It's fine, Spade. We're goin' into battle with this guy. He should know what he's gettin' himself into."
Law's gray eyes narrowed. "This is why you didn't want to fight Kaidou."
"In the Payback War, I got hit by Blackbeard's earthquake head-on," Marco explained. "I survived, which I'm pretty sure no one else would've, but I've had these aftershock spasms since then. Can't tell exactly what causes 'em, but twistin' in funny positions suddenly can trigger 'em, and I can't do shit when they happen."
Law glowered at them. "So you wanted the Indigo Ring research to try for yourself. You should've told me this."
"Not like you wouldn't hide it if you were in my position," said Marco wryly.
"What is wrong with you and Spade in this regard—I'm a fucking doctor. I can't treat you unless I actually have your history! The Indigo Ring isn't a cure; it merely masks the pain. The spasms are clearly still happening, and that alone can be dangerous."
"As long as I can get myself to safety, I'm fine," said Marco with a wave of his hand.
"It's not," he said curtly. "You need to stay hydrated. Constant muscle contractions can lead to rhabdomyolysis."
"Normal words for normal people, please."
"Kidney failure," Law snapped.
"What is up with you and kidneys?" said Spade curiously.
Law rounded on her, clearly irritated that she and Marco had hidden a very important medical detail from him. "What?"
"That's what you told me could happen if I got septic from that cut on my shoulder," she said thoughtfully, "and if you had to cut off my arm and manage kidney failure as a result. How are these things even related? Is kidney failure even real? Or is it like the bogeyman for doctors?"
"Are you serious, Spade—"
"Yeah," agreed Marco, "like really, how d'you go from back spasms to somethin' like rhabdo-blah-blah-blah? Is that even a real word?"
"You know," she said seriously, "if I didn't know any better, I'd think that your favorite organ isn't the heart but actually the kidneys. Imagine that. You should be The Kidney Pirates."
"What the fuck—forget it," Law bit out. "Fuckin' go die for all I care."
"Really, Kidney Pirates!" she called out as Law left the training grounds muttering a string of curses. "Remember me when you rebrand!"
Marco chuckled as the door shut behind Law, and she turned to him, more somber.
"You're okay? Seriously okay?"
"Yeah, I feel fine," he said consolingly. "I'll even get Doc to monitor me later. That make you feel better?"
She frowned. "Stop acting like you do this for me."
Marco laughed softly. "Partially, maybe." He gently placed his hand on her head. "Thanks for worryin' though."
She smiled sadly at him. "It's time for me to leave, isn't it?"
"Yeah. I fuckin' hate this part."
"Me too."
"We'll have a big feast tonight. Send you out properly."
"So I can fly hungover, sounds like a great idea."
He laughed again, but the way he looked at her bordered pitying. "Sorry, Spade."
"What for?"
"I know things have been goin' well with Trafalgar. You've looked…" He shrugged. "You've looked happy recently. Sorry to split ya apart."
"Nothing you need to be sorry for," she murmured, but something in her went cold at the thought. She and Law would have to talk tonight. "We have bigger things to care about."
"Yeah. And I hate sendin' you alone. But it's happenin', Spade. I need you back to me safe and sound, so be careful."
"I will be." She hugged him tightly. "Love you, Marco."
He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Love you too."
Spade spent several hours in the library, doing some last minute research while tuning into Underworld News, before she returned to her bedroom. The news that she had killed Burgess had circulated quietly before being picked up by more verified channels; another channel reported that Blackbeard was setting out to pursue her personally. As hateful as she found Teach, she knew he fought for his friends, too.
The joviality that had buoyed her mood for the last week had slowly been replaced by a heavy solemnity. She would fly out the next morning, so she set immediately to packing her personal belongings: new Burner Mushi, a fresh notebook, and after careful perusal, some choice maps and a New World Log Pose. She was somewhat surprised that Law wasn't in the room, but at the same time was grateful for the solitude. She was dreading the upcoming conversation.
She was going to tell Law that she loved him.
Maybe she wasn't in love with him, and it certainly didn't feel like what she'd felt for Ace, but it was something different and something real. Telling Ace she loved him had been easy and safe because Ace would've never trampled over her vulnerability. Spade honestly didn't think Law would either, but the hesitation remained. She knew she was forcing it a bit; if she were sailing to Wano with the rest of the Whitebeard crew, she wouldn't have said a word. She would've continued doing whatever they were doing, this easy, relaxed and undefined relationship, and let it grow on its own accord.
But Spade had made a great mistake with Ace in taking his life for granted, had made the stupidest mistake of her life by leaving him without telling him everything she should've. Even if what she felt for Law was only the barest kindling of what could potentially happen, she did not intend to wait until Law was dead to go through the same realizations of regret. As ridiculous as it was that she could love Law after such a rocky, barely few months of knowing each other, she knew that what she felt was real, especially given how infrequently it happened to her. And as vulnerable as this was going to make her, looking at Law sometimes made Spade think that the man deserved a bit more validation of his existence than even he expected.
The door behind her opened, and Spade set her bag down on the desk as she turned to face him.
"Hey."
"Hey," he said gruffly, setting down his black medical bag.
"Done examining Marco's kidneys?" she joked.
"You can't just—forget it," he scowled.
"I'm kidding," she said. "Is he okay?"
"Overall, yes. There is a slight refractory period," Law said. "About an hour of hyporeflexia, non-emergent bradycardia, basically parasympathetic overactivation."
"Law, please."
"His body slows down for about an hour after the initial five hours," he rephrased. "He's not in pain, but he needs to be careful. I told the Whitebeard Doc and made notes in Marco's chart. We'll need to monitor him each time he takes it. We don't know its full effects."
Spade nodded. "Thank you."
Law sighed and approached her. "It's my job. I take being a doctor seriously, Spade. Political secrets and whatnot, hide them as you will. But if I'm going to be part of a team, I need to know medical history. I won't abuse it, you have my word."
"Marco's history isn't mine to give," she said.
Law looked at her sharply. "I'm referring to your Impel Down spasms."
"Oh. I thought we were past that."
"I thought so too," he said finely, "but Marco's situation reminded me of it and made me irritated again."
He strode past her and sat down in her office chair, where he noticed the bag on her desk. He looked up at her, concerned.
"You're packing?"
"Marco wants me to leave tomorrow," she said softly.
"…I see. When?"
"Morning, probably. After we party all night first."
Law scoffed but said nothing. Spade finished putting some maps in the bag, mind turning over her next words.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Law, can we talk for a bit?"
"Certainly."
"First," a lump lodged in her throat, "please watch out for Marco. I know he's got fifteen other commanders watching him but another pair of eyes won't hurt, and you know his condition now so just make sure he's not overdoing it so he doesn't collapse in the middle of flying or—"
"I'll watch out for him," said Law, cutting in before she spiraled. "Don't worry."
"All right."
"…Anything else?"
I love you. Or, I think I love you. Or, I really care for you. I think you're a better man you give yourself credit for. You're a better man than I gave you credit for.
"Take care of yourself too," she said quietly.
Law's gaze softened and he tugged her into his lap. He brought a firm hand to her neck and the other to the curve of her back as he kissed her gently. Spade returned it, body yearning for more and her heart throbbing almost painfully. She did not feel safe about leaving. She was nervous, and there was a gut feeling that made her frightened, but she did not know what of. Perhaps this was the last night she'd have with Law. Perhaps she would die. Perhaps Law would.
"Hey," he said, stopping the kiss and grasping her tightly. "You're shaking."
"Ah." She inhaled deeply, trying to stabilize her trembling limbs. "Sorry."
He ran the hand at her back up and down her spine. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she breathed deeply. "I'm okay."
"…Are you afraid?" he said, voice neutral.
"Yeah. Just don't know of what."
"You're going against a Yonkou alone, it's normal to be scared."
"I've been on solo recon missions before," she said. "It's not the same."
"Spade—"
"I think I love you," she said in a rush.
Law stared at her, gray eyes wide. She saw the gamut of emotions run through them—disbelief, then understanding, shifting to wariness—Law was such a steel, locked tower of emotions that could not handle any warmth. This was a man who surrounded himself with crewmen who loved him, lived his life in the stead of a benefactor who had loved him enough to give up his life and even an entire nation for him, and still Law did not believe he deserved it without strings attached.
"Don't ask why," she said. "Don't ask what for. I don't have answers. It's just what I think I feel. And it's premature, I know. But I'm leaving tomorrow and I don't know if I'll ever see you again, so I wanted you to know."
Law was still speechless, which caused Spade to let out a little laugh. She felt so unstable, even though she was in Law's arms and he wouldn't let her fall. She didn't even know what she wanted—she hadn't thought that far. Law's feelings weren't part of her consideration; she'd just wanted Law to know her own.
"That's it," she said, attempting to extract herself from his hold. "When you remember how to use your tongue, you can find me."
Law grabbed her tightly by the hips and he pulled her down for a bruising kiss completely different from the one before: open-mouthed, teeth and tongue, desperate. The reaction surprised her but relieved her more; Spade kissed him back so hard their teeth clashed and she didn't know if they were really kissing or just trying to devour each other. His hands practically tore her shorts off her and she fumbled for the zipper of his jeans; his half-hard cock sprang into her palm, and with only a few deft movements, rose to its full potential.
Law did not bother undressing them any further. He grabbed her ass and pulled her so that her warmth met his cock; in what had to be their record for shortest foreplay, he lifted her up and sank her around his length quickly. Spade gasped, trying to slowly ease around his erection, but Law let out a close to animalistic growl and slammed up into her completely. She whimpered, pain searing between her legs, and the sound finally caused Law to understand.
He nipped the skin lining her jaw and brought a hand under her shirt to fondle her. She felt her bra be loosened so his hand could slip over her breast, and with several carefully timed thrusts and pinches of her nipples, Spade's whimpers morphed to moans. Her desire made Law's intrusion inside her more comfortable, and she began to move up and down his shaft on her own, causing him to groan in satisfaction. A hand at her ass gripped roughly and shoved her so she was seated firmly on his length. Spade hissed, resisting the push so she could set the pace on her own. She slowed the movement of her hips to a careful, circular roll that had Law gritting his teeth.
"Fuck," he gasped.
He responded by taking her shirt into both of his hands and ripping it into two pieces; he tore both the fragments and her bra off of her before burying his face between her breasts, tongue hot and slick as he interchanged the muscle with teeth with his sucks. Spade was completely flush against him. She tried to keep the controlled pace of her thrusts but they became gradually more erratic as Law teased her flesh, his tongue making quick work of her control when it attended to her nipples. Spade let out a sound that indicated to Law that her defenses were ruined; he took over the rhythm of their thrusts, his hands finding her hips to move her at a pace he liked while Spade held on helplessly to his shoulders.
Law sucked her left breast until it was painful, letting go of her nipple with a slight pop only when Spade whined. He leaned back in the chair, his hands and own hips controlling their movements, while he watched her.
"You're incredible," he rasped.
She didn't know how to respond to that. She imagined that she looked exactly how she felt, completely naked against Law's fully clothed body, down to his stupid fur hat.
Law did not seem to expect an answer. Their pace quickened and Spade could feel the familiar pressure in her lower abdomen build until it spilled over between her legs; she came with a guttural sound close to a scream and remained there, hands splayed against Law's shoulders, as he fucked her through her orgasm to his own that followed.
She was going to miss seeing Law's face as he came.
Spade kissed him as he recovered from his high, comforted when he returned the gesture tenderly. When they broke apart, Law rested his chin against her shoulder. Seconds ticked by, but neither made a movement to detach from each other.
She was afraid to move.
Law's lips pressed gently against her neck.
"You truly are a better person than me," he said hoarsely.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. There was going to be a 'but,' and no matter how nice the words that preceded a 'but' were, they were worth nothing once they were countered.
Law leaned back in the chair, and the look in his eyes was clear.
"I think I've loved you for some time now," he whispered.
For the first time in years, Spade's heart felt full.
Marco had not been kidding when he said that the Whitebeards would throw Spade a feast before her departure. The grand dining hall of the Whitebeard base was crowded with food, people, and noise. The remaining Whitebeard captains had returned to the base, making what Law thought was a disorganized group even more raucous. Spade, as the banquet's honoree, was swept up in a series of celebratory shots and drinks, and it did not take long for her to convince Law to join.
Spade loved him.
He could hardly believe it. Not that she did, but that she would admit it aloud. She was, in all ways, an incredible woman. How foolish it was to admit emotions aloud, to speak them into truth.
Flushed with alcohol, Spade laughed easily and loudly as they sat with the returning Commanders, who eyed the way she leaned against Law interestedly.
"Trafalgar Law?" said Izou. The Sixteenth Division Commander hid behind a fan as he peered at Law curiously. "He didn't strike me as your type…"
Spade grinned as she nursed a beer. "He's a little moody, isn't he?"
"Fuck off, Spade," said Law lightly as he downed his own drink.
"See," she said pointedly. "Moody!"
"A disappointment," sighed Rakuyo, stroking his long mustache.
"That's rude, Rakuyo."
"Not Trafalgar himself, per se. We're just disappointed you didn't claim someone higher up the totem pole," Vista explained.
Spade frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Well, no offense to Trafalgar, but we were hoping our only marketable female would bait in bigger fish…"
Namur grinned, showing rows and rows of pointy teeth. "Yeah, my money was on Shanks."
Spade abruptly spat out her beverage.
"Money?!" she snapped. "Shanks?!"
"There may be a bet going on," said Marco innocently as he approached them after making his rounds greeting all the major Division Commanders and Vice Commanders. After briefing everyone on their next moves, Law could easily tell that all Whitebeards were relieved to be going to war, and as a result, they took his presence amongst them much better. The antagonism between Spade and any Commanders seemed to have diminished as well, especially since the solo mission she was about to embark on was clearly dangerous.
"You started this, didn't you."
"Well, we couldn't ever be a real thing," said the Phoenix seriously. "So we thought…Big Mom uses marriages for political alliances all the time."
"You were going to sell me off," Spade said, disbelief and betrayal on her face. "Like some common whore, like cattle."
"We weren't selling you, it was clearly your choice!" Izou protested.
"Oh c'mon, Spade," laughed Vista. "D'you think a common whore could land Shanks? Give yourself some credit!"
"Fucking Christ, why am I friends with any of you," she said wearily.
"It was a joke," interjected Marco soothingly. "A way to encourage you to move on."
"Yeah, like you really helped in that regard," she snipped.
"I was always in support of you finding someone else, Spade."
"Fuck you, Marco. Fuck all of you."
Law cleared his throat, feeling slightly awkward in that he should've really been offended but was not in a position to express this offense. The sound drew the attention back to him, and Marco grinned cheekily at him.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said easily. "It's all good an' fun."
"I just find it rude that no one finds it surprising that Spade could land me," Law said, deadpan.
The Commanders howled with laughter and even Spade smirked.
"We're here fuckin' with Yonkou," Marco chortled. "You think your Shichibukai ass had a chance with our fuckin' Hurricane before your Dressrosa stunt?"
"I'm a treasure, thanks."
"You are," Spade laughed, kissing his goatee. "All right, boys, another round and I gotta crash. Gonna head out early tomorrow."
"C'mon, you can do a couple more."
"No fuckin' way."
"I'm gonna head back to the room," Law murmured in her ear. "Gonna call my crew."
"Yeah, be there in a bit."
He left the festivities for Spade's room, drawing further and further away from the loud shouts and cheers. Law honestly had not drank very much. He was too busy debating internally.
Marco had asked Law to tell the Heart Pirates to meet at a nearby island, where one of the Whitebeard Commanders could meet and escort them to the actual base. The moment of truth had arrived; Law needed to decide what to do with Burgess. Kill him, and lose Doflamingo. Keep him alive and risk the Whitebeards, but with Spade heading out tomorrow, perhaps the Blackbeards would be distracted enough with her presence to follow her instead of a Vivre card.
Law entered the bedroom and searched briefly among Spade's belongings for the Interceptor Mushi. He dialed in his crew's number and waited impatiently for someone to pick up.
"Spade?" said Bepo's voice excitedly.
"It's me, Bepo," said Law.
"Captain! We were so worried! You haven't been in contact!"
"Yeah, too risky to be Tapped. We'll have to keep this short as well. You need to set sail for an island nearby. Namur will meet you there—he can guide you even when submerged."
"Cool!"
Law gave the coordinates and heard Bepo scratching the numbers down. "How's everything?"
"It's okay. Blackbeard keeps callin' but we haven't picked up. He probably knows we have Burgess."
"Not necessarily. He could think we were attacked by Spade too."
"Oh, true. Well, Burgess knows the truth anyway. He keeps yellin' all the time."
"No problems with getting tracked by Blackbeard's men, right? Or any problems with Burgess himself?"
"Nope, nothin'. We're submerged most of the time, and we can outrun pretty much anyone when we're underwater."
"True," murmured Law.
"Any other orders, Captain?"
Kill Burgess.
But he didn't need to. He could ask the stronger half of his crew to join the Whitebeards for evaluation and the other half to continue hiding in the Polar Tang underwater, where Blackbeard wouldn't be able to find them. If he just talked to Spade and Marco, explained to them that even if Burgess wasn't valuable to the Whitebeards, Law could use him for Doflamingo, he was sure they'd understand. Spade had always been considerate of his hatred of Doflamingo.
Law could truly have everything.
"No," he said to Bepo swiftly. "I want half of you to join Namur at the Whitebeard base. The other half continue submerged with Burgess. Choose an unpredictable sailing pattern—I don't want you getting caught."
Bepo didn't question him, even though Law was sure he had plenty of reason to. "Aye-aye, Captain."
"See you soon, Bepo. Stay safe."
"You too, Captain!"
Law hung up the Mushi and breathed out a sigh of relief. This was doable.
A blinding pain suddenly hit the back of his neck and Law crumbled onto the desk in front of him. He created a Room mid-fall, but felt something heavy clack over his wrist and the Room disappeared. A hand roughly grabbed him by his collar and shoved him face first onto the table. He could see the glint of Kairouseki on his wrist.
He'd been in this position before. The warm wind that he now noticed made the assailant obvious.
Spade's voice held none of lighthearted inebriation of earlier. She was deadly, fury latent but palpable, though the knife pressing into his skin was steady.
"You have ten seconds to tell me why Burgess is alive, or I will kill you."
And despite that she had told Law she loved him only hours earlier, Law believed her.