I used to prefer the "past" scenes but now that I have to stick to the canon, the "present day" scenes are more fun.
"How long did you serve as the Heart Executive in the Donquixote Family?" Kuzan asked.
Rosinante looked him straight in the eye, just the way they practiced, and answered with a calm, "four years."
"What kind of work did you do during those four years?"
"I was mainly the muscle," he said.
"Can you give us an example of what it means to be the muscle?" Kuzan asked.
Rosinante nodded and his leg began to bounce.
"It was my job to deal with Doflamingo's contacts if they crossed him. So if someone normally ran guns for him and if they stole those guns, Doflamingo would send me to take care of them. Usually, I would just go see the contact, mess up their place of business and rough them up a little bit until the message got across. It usually was enough to make sure it wouldn't happen again."
Kuzan nodded and Rosinante's eyes flickered to where Doflamingo was whispering something to his attorney. He was a hulking figure, a bit like Doffy, but that was where their similarities ended. Where Doffy was flamboyant and loud, his attorney was quiet and calculating.
"And were you ever tasked with killing someone?"
Rosinante cracked his neck and hesitated, "…yes."
"Did you?"
"…Only out of self-defense."
He glanced at the jury and winced when he saw the looks on their faces. He knew why Kuzan was bringing it up. He knew that if they didn't bring it up, Doffy's attorney would. He knew it was inevitable.
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
Especially not when he saw the look of utter disappointment on Sengoku's face. Thirteen years only did so much to heal that particular wound.
"And was the FBI aware of this?" Kuzan asked.
Rosinante cleared his throat, "we discussed everything in detail once I was stabilized after the Minion Island incident."
The line of questioning really took off from there. Kuzan was fairly gentle on him, but firm enough to convince the jury of the greater cause. Firm enough to show everyone that while Rosinante was not perfect, he was not the enemy.
And then they veered off into territory Rosinante was most frightened of.
"Tell us about what happened on Minion Island with Trafalgar Law, former special agent Vergo, and Doflamingo."
Rosinante bit down on the inside of his cheek and against all better judgment, looked over at his brother.
Doffy's face was unreadable. He leaned back in his chair and those pink sunglasses pointed right in Rosinante's direction.
He tore his eyes away from Doffy and found himself somehow locking gazes with the doctor once again, but he too had an unreadable expression.
"Um. Where do you want me to start?" Rosinante asked.
"Let's start with why you were there."
"I was there because I was looking for the Ope-Ope fruit," he said.
"For the FBI?" Kuzan pressed.
Rosinante locked his jaw tight enough to grind his teeth to dust.
"No."
"No?"
"I wanted the fruit because I discovered it had an enzyme in it that could potentially heal Trafalgar Law."
A heavy, undeniable silence and discomfort descended over the courtroom and Rosinante could only narrow his eyes. Did he miss something? Was he supposed to leave his motivations out? When Kuzan prepped his testimony he had made it very clear that Rosinante would need to address why he wanted the fruit. He'd been crystal fucking clear that talking about the fruit and Law as the only way to give a convincing testimony.
So then why—
"And did you get the fruit to Trafalgar Law?"
Rosinante sighed, "yes."
Doffy leaned forward and whispered in his attorney's ear again and Rosinante found it horribly goddamn distracting.
The attorney smirked and jotted something down, and Rosinante was unable to pull his eyes away.
"Did Trafalgar Law eat the fruit?" Kuzan asked.
"Yes," he answered, though his voice didn't sound like his own.
"Can you explain how you got the fruit and what happened after Trafalgar Law ate it?"
The memory came back, slamming into him like a freight train and Rosinante yanked his eyes away from Doffy's attorney.
His chest burned and his vision momentarily blurred.
"Law and I left the Family six months before the incident on Minion Island. I left a note for Doflamingo saying that I was going to find a cure for Law and told Buddha Sengoku that I was taking some time away from the job to see to the boy's care," Rosinante said.
"And Trafalgar Law's health was the only reason for this leave from your duties?"
"Yes," Rosinante said. It was only a half-truth but it was good enough. Rosinante had been prepped by dozens of attorneys for this moment and he realized that the only thing that mattered was Law's health. No one had to know that part of the reason he left was because of Law's real name and he would keep it that way. Thirteen years and Rosinante would still never let that information get out and risk the boy's wellbeing.
Then again. Law was no longer a boy anymore, was he? He was a grown man of twenty-six by now.
"What happened next?"
"We traveled around in hopes of finding the fruit and a cure. I had some intel from the FBI of where it might be, so we started there even though it was to no avail. I took Law to a lot of hospitals along the way because he was so sick. Then eventually Doflamingo got in touch with me and he told me he found the fruit's location. I crosschecked that with Buddha Sengoku to see if Doflamingo was right and he was. So we went to Minion Island after that. I think Doflamingo was on to me by then and was planning on killing me there regardless of what happened.
"Sengoku knew that I was interested in finding the fruit, although he didn't know why. I told him it was just a way to finally capture my brother even though I really only wanted it for Law," Rosinante said quietly into the microphone on the stand.
"Why were you so determined to get this fruit for Trafalgar Law? He was a boy with a terminal illness that had no known cure. Why would you risk your life and career for a cure that might not even exist?"
That was a question they hadn't prepped him for and the whole team seemed to notice it right away. Akainu's eyes widened and his mouth pursed into a thin line. Sengoku's lips parted in surprise. Garp actually pulled his pinky out of his nose.
Rosinante blinked and worked his jaw once he returned his gaze to Kuzan.
He looked so sure of himself. His shoulders were pushed back, his chin was held high, and something was twinkling in his eyes.
Unable to do anything else, Rosinante decided to go with the truth and he leaned forward to say, "because he became like a son to me and I loved him."
A quiet murmuring filled his ears and Rosinante glanced over to his left to see the jurors' reaction. Some of them looked touched, evident from the way they had a hand to their chest or from the way their eyes shimmered. Some of them looked surprised with wide gazes as if it was totally unbelievable that someone in Rosinante's position could ever love someone.
"Objection."
Rosinante found himself looking in Doffy's direction once again, only this time instead of seeing Doffy whispering to his attorney, he found the dark-headed man standing up and looking at the judge.
"On what grounds?" Judge Kong asked, only looking at the man through his peripherals.
"Relevance, Your Honor."
Judge Kong looked at Kuzan and then responded with an almost bored, "overruled."
Kuzan didn't outright smirk, but his eyes twinkled and the left corner of his mouth twitched upward.
Rosinante looked out into the crowd and found himself once again looking at the doctor. He didn't look back this time though. The man's shoulders were hunched forward and he had a tattooed hand buried in inky black hair as he stared at the floor.
Rosinante swallowed back a lump in his throat and waited for Kuzan to continue.
"Just to clarify, Mr. Donquixote, you lied to both Doflamingo and Buddha Sengoku, who was your boss and adoptive father, all to protect Trafalgar Law and get the Ope-Ope fruit to him?"
"Yes."
"I see. What happened on Minion Island once you arrived?"
Rosinante recounted the story. Everything from arriving on Minion Island to hiding Law in that little shack, to stealing the fruit from Diez Barrels, to lying in the snow as he waited for Law to deliver his message about Dressrosa to the FBI, to Vergo, to Doffy… He recounted the whole damn thing and Kuzan made sure to hammer every gory little detail home until members of the jury looked ill.
"What do you remember after your brother left you for dead?" Kuzan asked.
"Nothing. I hung on for as long as I could and then the next memory I have is waking up in a hospital."
"Did you have any memory of what happened on Minion Island when you woke up?"
Rosinante paused as he tried to remember what it was like to open his eyes and be greeted with the sight of doctors and nurses hovering over him, monitoring every breath he took. And the only thing he remembered from that initial moment of consciousness was that he asked about Law.
"To be honest, when I woke up everything was in pieces but I know I asked about Law and they ended up sedating me because I kept trying to leave."
Kuzan asked some more questions about that, about the hospital and having to be sedated because he'd been so worried.
His strategy was so painfully obvious that it was almost heavy-handed. Kuzan wanted to make it clear to the jury that Rosinante was just a man who did what he had to do to protect a boy that he loved like a son. He was trying to show how much Rosinante loved Law to blunt the cross-examination because they all knew it would be bad.
Rosinante was no saint when he was with the Family and any half-decent defense attorney would jump all over that because it was the perfect way to impeach him as a witness.
Rosinante knew why Kuzan chose that strategy and he could appreciate it.
He just didn't know how effective it would be.
They wrapped up after a few more questions and then Judge Kong called a recess before the defense had its chance to question Rosinante.
He got down from the stand and Kuzan approached him first.
"You did great," he said.
Rosinante had a headache and all he wanted was a cigarette. Or two.
Or ten.
"Thanks."
"Just remember to keep calm when the defense goes. Crocodile can be a mean sonofabitch when he wants and he's been your brother's attorney for the last thirteen years. So just take a breath and keep your head on, all right?"
Rosinante nodded and headed out of the courtroom.
He didn't make it very far before Sengoku was at his back and laying a hand on his shoulder.
"What is it?" Rosinante asked.
"Where are you going?"
Rosinante nodded his head at a door on the other end of the hall. He was pretty sure that it led to a courtyard or at the very least, an exit.
"I'm just gonna have a smoke," he said. Sengoku's brows knit together with worry and his eyes flickered to the door.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Sengoku said.
Rosinante looked around. Doffy was nowhere in sight and neither were any of the jurors or other attorneys. Kuzan was off somewhere with Akainu and the associates, and Rosinante assumed that Doffy's attorney was off with his own team. There weren't even any press anywhere. The coast seemed relatively clear.
"Sengoku, I'm dying for a light here. I'll be quick," he promised.
He gave Sengoku a weak smile but the man didn't return it. He stared at Rosinante like he might disappear and then after a minute gave a heavy sigh and nodded, patting him gruffly on the shoulder.
"All right. I have to make a phone call anyway."
Rosinante nodded and went to the door, stepping outside into a little courtyard.
The sun had been out when he arrived that morning but it wasn't anymore. When he got outside he saw only a slate gray sky and could feel the electricity and humidity in the air, telling him that a thunderstorm wasn't far off. All of it was accompanied by a gentle breeze and it cooled Rosinante's clammy skin. He didn't realize he'd been sweating beneath his dress shirt until he was finally relieved of the hot courtroom air.
The grass in the little area was lush and soft under his feet, and there was a lone tree in the center of the courtyard that a few stone benches were positioned around. Rosinante dug around in his pocket for a cigarette and walked right up to the tree and pressed his back against its trunk so he could see the door that led to the courtyard.
Call him paranoid or whatever, but he wasn't going to leave his back open when his psychotic brother was right around the corner.
The cigarette smoke drifted around him a bit like a halo and he watched it with tired eyes. His head felt fuzzy and he needed it to clear up quickly so he'd be able to get through cross-examination.
Akainu himself prepped Rosinante for that, so he doubted there was anything that Doffy's attorney could say to intimidate him, but it still wasn't a terribly appealing thing to look forward to.
He looked up at the sky and sighed between puffs of his cigarette. He was so close to freedom that he could almost taste it. It was right there. All he had to do was reach out and take it.
"Hasn't anyone ever told you that smoking kills?" a deep voice asked.
Rosinante abruptly tore his gaze away from the slate gray sky to see the doctor from the courtroom walking over to him.
Rosinante pressed his back against the tree until it dug into the space between his shoulders and took a slow drag, savoring the way nicotine and tobacco coated his tongue.
He shouldn't have zoned out like that. What if it had been Doffy instead?
"Eh," he shrugged. "I'm on borrowed time anyway."
He would have had to be blind to miss the way the doctor's shoulders tensed at the comment, though he didn't mention it. Didn't have to since the doctor walked right up to the tree Rosinante was currently pressed against and leaned against it as well.
Up close, he looked more exhausted than Rosinante originally thought. There were horrible dark circles beneath his eyes, ones that suggested the man was a complete and total insomniac, and his jet black hair was unruly and stuck up in different directions like he'd just woken up. Pair that with some faded jeans and a black pullover hoodie with fraying edges, and the doctor looked like he was five seconds away from keeling over due to lack of sleep.
But his eyes were the exception.
His strange eyes that were so familiar—eyes that were as black as the man's hair and accompanied by a unique gold ring—they were bright and alert.
"You're a doctor, right? I was at the hospital yesterday and I think I saw you there. You had the scrub hat with all the hearts on it, right? I accidentally bumped into you," Rosinante said with smoke peppering his words.
"Mhm," was all the man said.
He didn't look at Rosinante or at the sky. Rather, he looked straight ahead at the door.
"What kind of doctor are you?" Rosinante asked, eager to stave off any awkward silence.
"I'm a cardiothoracic surgeon," he said.
Rosinante watched the man a moment longer than appropriate. There was something off about him. Then again, maybe that wasn't the right word. He wasn't really "off" but he was strange. He was just so goddamn familiar.
"Hm," Rosinante said. He took another puff. "Go figure. All I seem to do is attract cardio docs anymore."
That made the doctor smirk and Rosinante noticed the man's tattooed fingers twitch.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah," Rosinante said. "You heard what happened to me in there. I'm sure you can imagine what my heart and lungs look like."
The doctor made a thoughtful noise that was a cross between a sigh and a hum and Rosinante braced himself for a medical lecture.
But instead of a lecture, the response he got was entirely different.
"Yeah. I can imagine."
Rosinante took one last drag and snuffed the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe and held his hand out to the doctor.
The doctor shook it with a grip that rivaled his own and Rosinante tilted his head to the side ever so slightly when they locked gazes. The familiarity of the man's eyes was going to be the death of him. It felt like Rosinante was drowning in a terrible sort of déjà vu the longer they looked at each other.
"I'm Rosi. Nice to meet you, Doc."
"Likewise," the doctor said. He held onto his hand a little longer, squeezed it a little tighter.
Then he dropped it.
Rosinante thought it was a little odd that the doctor didn't tell him his name, but he must have had a good reason for it, so he didn't push.
"So are you just another spectator or…?"
"Spectator and witness," he said with a shrug. Rosinante stared in disbelief but the doctor avoided his eyes. "I testified a few days ago. I was there on Dressrosa when Doflamingo was arrested."
Rosinante rubbed the back of his neck and looked back up at the slate sky. It was just a matter of time before it started raining.
He wondered if his brother could see the sky from wherever he was.
"Small world," he muttered. He reached for another cigarette and placed it between his lips and searched his pockets for a lighter. For once, his hands weren't trembling and there was no pain in his chest. So he tried to savor it for as long as he could.
Rosinante produced his lighter and just before he could hold it to the end of his cigarette, the doctor's tattooed hand shot up to snatch the cigarette out of his lips and to snap it in half with deft fingers.
Rosinante blinked, completely dumbfounded and stared at the doctor, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"Uh?"
"If your heart looks anything like I think it does, then you've got a death wish if you're smoking these things. Not to mention, but your lungs are probably so filled with scar tissue and black tar that it's a miracle you can breathe at all," the doctor deadpanned. His eyes flashed and Rosinante stiffened. "Don't be an idiot. Chew some gum. It'll help with the oral fixation and nicotine addiction."
Rosinante's hand went to the back of his neck. He was used to doctors lecturing him about his smoking, but he wasn't used to one pretty much bullying him to get their point across. Kureha had been the closest thing to that, and she only berated him for a short period of time. She never ripped a damn cigarette out of his mouth and snapped the thing in front of him.
The doctor had some nerve too since Rosinante was so much bigger than him and clearly much older.
What a brat.
"Those are expensive," Rosinante said with an exasperated sigh.
"So are medical bills," the doctor said right back, the corner of his lip quirking into a sort of smirk.
Rosinante shook his head but didn't bother trying to light another one. He had a feeling the doctor would just take his entire carton away if he did.
He glanced at where the doctor was fiddling with the broken ends of his cigarette and narrowed his eyes when he noticed what letters were tattooed on the tops of his fingers.
"Seriously? A surgeon with DEATH tattooed on their fingers?" Rosinante quipped. "I'm sure patients love that."
The doctor smirked and shrugged.
"You get away with a lot when you're the best cardio doc in the country," he said.
"I don't believe that," Rosinante said with a light scoff. He crossed his arms, pressed his back a little harder into the tree, and looked back up at the sky. "You're way too young to be the best at anything. What are you? Thirty?"
"Twenty-six," he said. "I was a medical prodigy. What can I say?"
Rosinante absentmindedly nodded and looked back down at the doctor. He just barely reached Rosinante's shoulders, and that was a feat in itself since Rosinante and Doflamingo stood at heights that shouldn't have been possible.
He looked older than a mere twenty-six, but Rosinante wondered if that was because of the dark circles under his eyes and the air of exhaustion that clung to him. He figured that was probably the case. When Rosinante was twenty-six he often was told he looked much older for the same reason.
"Why the DEATH tattoos?" Rosinante asked.
"Why not?" the doctor replied.
Rosinante chuckled under his breath and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. What was it with him and arrogant bastards? Did he have a neon sign above his head that attracted them to him or something?
"That attitude reminds me of someone," Rosinante admitted before he could really process what he was saying.
"Oh?"
"Yeah," he said softly.
"Hey, Punk! Sengoku's looking for you."
Rosinante looked away from the doctor to see Garp standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, scowling at either Rosinante or the doctor. He couldn't be sure which given the distance.
"All right," Rosinante said. Garp didn't leave his space in the doorway though. He stood pin-straight, still glaring at them.
Something wet landed on Rosinante's cheek and he looked at the sky to see a few raindrops beginning to fall.
"Nice talking to you, Doc," he said when another one landed on his forehead.
"Mhm," the doctor muttered.
The man's attitude and arrogance seemed to dissipate once Rosinante pushed himself away from the tree, and for some reason it made him linger.
The doctor didn't smirk anymore and his fingers dug into his biceps from where he crossed his arms. In fact, he almost looked sad?
That was when Rosinante saw it. A blemish—a discoloration—in the man's tan complexion. A faint, hardly noticeable, ghostly scar on the side of the man's neck, another one along his jaw, a few more on his face, and even more on his hands.
They were so small. So faded. Someone might not even think they were scars if they didn't know. They might just think they were a medical condition he was born with, but Rosinante knew better. He knew those scars. He knew those oval shaped, uneven, horrible fucking ash white marks better than he knew the disfigurement of his own chest and abdomen.
The doctor looked away from the ground and met Rosinante's stare head on, arching one eyebrow above the other in confusion.
"What?" he asked.
Those stupid fucking scars. Those scars that Rosinante hated so fucking much. Those godforsaken blotches of disease that had covered the man's face and body.
Amber Lead Syndrome.
A breath tore from the back of his throat, almost choking him and making him stammer out a weak, "La—"
A hand clamped down on Rosinante's elbow.
"Come on, Punk."
"W-wait. Hold on a sec—"
"I'm sorry, but there will be time for this after Crocodile has had a chance to cross-examine you," Garp grunted, yanking Rosinante back towards the courthouse.
Rosinante couldn't have fought back even if he tried. Garp didn't get his nickname for nothing and even though Rosinante was strong, Garp was stronger.
Still though. He looked over his shoulder to see the doctor looking back at him with those familiar eyes.
Black eyes rimmed with gold. Eyes that Rosinante hadn't been able to identify because the last time he'd seen those eyes, they had been charcoal gray because their pigment had been lightened from disease.
They were his eyes though. Rosinante was sure of that now. He was more sure of those eyes than he was of his brother's guilt.
All because they were Trafalgar Law's eyes.
13 years ago
Stupid fucking doctors.
They were all good for nothing pieces of shit. Every single one of them.
Didn't doctors take an oath? An oath to do no harm and to treat those who needed it? Weren't they supposed to give a shit about a sickly kid who just needed some IV fluids and something to break his fever?
Stupid mother f—
"Corazón, you should eat something."
Rosinante stomped his cigarette out and glanced at Law. He was huddled in front of the fire with a blanket draped over his small shoulders, holding a bowl of soup out to Rosinante with quivering hands.
They'd only been on the run for two weeks and it was still too risky to take refuge in a motel. Doffy would have found them in an instant. So, for now, they were forced to camp out each night.
And on the nights it rained or the weather was too shitty? They slept in the car, Law getting the backseat to spread out on and Rosinante confining himself to the driver's seat in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
Doffy had only called one time on that first day but Rosinante ignored it. He hadn't tried a second time and Rosinante didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
"Have you eaten?" Rosinante asked, walking back over to the fire and sitting on the other side of it.
"Yes," Law said.
"And you're full?"
Law rolled his eyes and reached around the fire to set the bowl of soup beside Rosinante before he went back to where he had been huddled moments ago.
"Yes, you dumbass clown. Now would you shut up and eat already?"
Rosinante didn't take his eyes off of Law. It was only two hours ago that they left yet another hospital and Rosinante was at the point where he didn't know what he'd been expecting. He just wanted a medical professional to give Law the treatment he deserved and be done with it. Was that seriously so much to ask?
Law always reacted the same after they left. His head would hang a little lower and his shoulders would hunch forward a bit more.
He just needed help and Rosinante couldn't understand why no one would give it to him.
"Thanks," Rosinante said.
Law nodded and held his hands out to the fire, yawning and slowly blinking the sleep from his eyes.
He'd been getting sicker. Those white splotches were blooming across his face and every breath he took would make his chest rattle until he was a sputtering, wheezing mess.
He needed a cure and he needed one soon…
"Get some rest," Rosinante said.
Surprisingly, Law didn't fight with him. He just rolled out the sleeping bag Rosinante bought him their third night and curled up by the fire, falling asleep almost instantly.
Despite being on the other side of the fire and the crackle of the embers, Rosinante could still hear the rattle in the boy's chest.
He winced at the sound and swallowed down the rest of the soup in a few gulps. He then stood up and walked a few paces away and produced his phone to call Sengoku.
He answered right away.
"Yes?" Sengoku grunted.
"It's me," Rosinante said. "I was wondering if you made any progress with locating the Ope-Ope fruit yet?"
Sengoku sighed and Rosinante nervously looked back over his shoulder to reassure himself that Law was still there.
"Depends what you define as progress," Sengoku admitted. "Tsuru thinks she might have found some leads but she's not sure if they're valid or not. Why?"
Rosinante bit down on the inside of his cheek and ran his fingers through his hair.
"Never mind. I had to take a leave from my assignment. Don't worry though. I'm still monitoring my brother, but I need to take care of something important first," he blurted before he could think better of it.
There was a pause, a long one that made Rosinante want to jump out of his skin.
"…If you say this is important, then I trust you, Rosi."
He breathed in relief and put his hand to his chest and felt his rapidly beating pulse just beneath his fingertips.
"You would tell me if you were in trouble… Right?" Sengoku asked.
Rosinante rubbed a thumb across the space beneath his collarbone and glanced back at Law.
"Of course."
"All right then," Sengoku said.
Rosinante was going to hang up after that and call it a night. Maybe curl up next to the fire with what remained of his stash of bourbon.
But then Sengoku a soft, almost gentle, "I love you, Kid."
Rosinante's whole body froze and his jaw clamped shut.
It had been so long since he'd seen Sengoku. Almost four whole years since he got to have a beer with the man or a drunken heart-to-heart. It had been so goddamn long that Rosinante almost felt numb to it. And it may have made him terrible, but hearing his adoptive father's words only made him suspicious.
And he had no one but himself to blame for it.
"…Love you too," he croaked.
He hung up immediately after and pinched the bridge of his nose as he seethed through his teeth.
Fuck.
He knew he shouldn't have done it, but he did anyway and went over to his car to grab the remaining stash of bourbon and settled down beside the fire.
The bourbon was liquid fire going down his throat. It warmed his chest and made his head spin after only a few large gulps.
His mind was in disarray and it was only a matter of time before he lost himself to memories of Doffy and his mother and his father and rain and dust specks.
But then he looked at Law's sleeping form and something inside him pulled.
"Law…" he muttered in his drunken stupor. "I'm sorry I keep dragging you around from hospital to hospital. You deserve better than that."
He held the bottle of bourbon to his lips and chugged until alcohol trickled down his chin and neck and stained his shirt. Drank until it was empty and until he could hardly see straight and until Law was only a blurred mass in front of him.
He stood up and his knees almost buckled under his weight but he managed to keep himself up long enough to stumble over to Law and take a knee beside the sleeping boy. His chest rattled even in his sleep and when Rosinante put a hand to the boy's cheek, he could feel a low-grade fever. It never really went away anymore.
"You're still a rude little brat," Rosinante said as he withdrew his hand. "And I wish you would stop saying that you would die soon."
The backs of his eyes burned and Rosinante started to get choked up at the realization that Trafalgar Law might not live for much longer.
He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as tears started to fall.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that this boy from that wretched city would die before too long while fucking Doflamingo got to waltz around and torment people just for shits and giggles.
"I'm sorry, Law," Rosinante whimpered. He sniffled and more tears fell from his eyes. "I… I know you stabbed me that day but… But it didn't hurt." Fuck, he couldn't stop crying. He rubbed his eyes and tried to bite back a sob. "I-I know you were the one who was hurting, Law." A strangled wheeze escaped his throat and Rosinante stood up so he could go cry to himself instead of Law and he said a weak, "I'm so, so sorry."
He got only a few feet away before he tripped over something and spiraled towards the ground.
Luckily, he fell asleep before the pain could kick in.
He couldn't breathe and he couldn't see straight. Between the mucus running from his nose, the tears blurring his vision, and the curtain of rain, the image in front of him was distorted.
It had to be. Distortion was the only way his little eight-year-old brain could process what he was looking at.
"Doffy, PLEASE," he sobbed, wrapping his arms around his stomach and crying until he started to gag on his own tears.
"Then don't watch, Rosi!" Doffy snarled. His small ten-year-old figure went back to its task, one hand clutching onto the back of their dead father's head while the other clutched a knife.
"Why are you doing this?" he shouted.
The rain soaked through his clothes until even his bones felt the chill of it and he collapsed to his knees, unable to look away.
"It needs to be done!" Doffy yelled again. He brought the knife over his shoulder and swung it down in an arc, sinking it into the still warm flesh of their father's neck. "I'm going to bring it back to Mariejois for all of them to see. Then those bastards will take us back."
There was a clap of thunder but Rosinante couldn't hear it over the sound of his wails.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It was all just a terrible nightmare and then Rosinante would wake up and his mother would smile at him, kiss him on the cheeks, and then tell him about the dust specks.
But it wasn't a nightmare. It was as real as the thunderstorm and not even the moonlit sky could hide what his brother was doing.
He was a monster. He sawed away through flesh, muscle, tendons, and bone and sticky blood coated his brother's hands and pooled around them, seeping around Rosinante's knees.
But the rain. At least the rain washed his father's blood away.
"Oi, wake up, Cora."
Rosinante's eyes fluttered open and it took him exactly three milliseconds before he jumped up with his heart racing and produced a gun and pointed it at one of the trees he'd fallen asleep surrounded by.
"What the hell are you doing!"
Law.
The angry little brat was awake and staring at him like he had six heads. Rosinante glanced away from Law to see their campsite perfectly intact. There was a little fire, Law's sleeping bag was rolled up, and the sun was out and shining and the fucking birds were singing.
They survived another night.
Rosinante ran a hand over his face in relief and leaned down to rub the top of Law's head.
"Sorry," he said gruffly.
A sheen of sweat coated his body and he tasted copper. His head pounded and stomach churned from the bourbon and it was all he could do to stay upright long enough to pull out a cigarette.
"Come eat breakfast, Cora."
The sleep inertia seeped back into Rosinante's sore muscles and he rubbed his eyes as he fought back a yawn.
"I'm not hungry," he said once he lit his cigarette and took a drag.
Law scoffed and started to berate Rosinante for not listening to him, talking about how he needed to eat and how he needed to stop smoking and that's when it dawned on him.
Law called him Cora. Not "stupid clown" or Corazón or anything else, but Cora.
"Wait, Law," he said. He pulled his cigarette away from his lips and felt a grin slowly spread from ear to ear. "What did you call me?"
Law's pale cheeks flushed.
"Don't make this weird! It's just a name!"
Rosinante stared and his smile grew even bigger. Holy shit. Maybe Law didn't hate him as much as he liked to pretend he did?
"Stop smiling like that! You're such a stupid fucking clown!" Law yelled.
Rosinante couldn't help it when he laughed and grinned so hard that he probably looked absolutely insane, meanwhile his cigarette fell from his lips, completely forgotten.
"Come on, Law! Say it again! Please!" he said, still grinning like the idiot he was.
"Just shut the hell up and come eat your hangover breakfast!" Law snapped. He turned around and stomped away after that, muttering curses and insults, but Rosinante didn't care. He just laughed again and smiled until his face hurt.
Rude little brat.
Still though. Rosinante absolutely adored him and it couldn't be helped.
Not that he wanted it to be helped.
They fell into a routine after that. Rosinante would still drag Law to hospital after hospital. They'd be disappointed by asshole doctors and public reaction. They'd leave and find a place to sleep at night, whether it be in a park, in Rosinante's car, or in a campground. Then they would wake up and do it all over again the next day.
It must have been six months of the same routine and all of it was to no avail. There was no word from Sengoku on the Ope-Ope fruit and Law only got sicker.
It finally reached a point where the boy had more white patches on his body than not. The Amber Lead completely trapped Law in his own skin and there was nothing either of them could do it about it.
Law's fevers spiked, he coughed more, and could barely walk for more than a few minutes at a time. Rosinante had to carry him most places despite his protests and even though Law resigned himself to his fate, Rosinante did not.
He was desperate.
He would abandon the FBI, go back to Doffy, even cut out his own fucking heart if it meant there was something he could do.
If only he could find that stupid fucking fruit.
But then Doffy called one day. It was in the morning while Law and Rosinante ate, and when that phone went off Rosinante damn near jumped out of his skin.
"Cora?" Law asked.
Rosinante stood up and walked away from the fire he used to cook breakfast on. He didn't want Law hearing the phone call should it turn sour.
"Hello?"
"Ah. So you answered this time, Rosi," Doffy said.
Rosinante's jaw locked and he walked further from their makeshift campsite until it was only a speck in the distance.
"Yeah," Rosinante said.
"I take it Law is still alive and that's why you haven't come back," Doffy said.
Damn him. Damn him straight to hell because Rosinante could hear that stupid fucking smile in his brother's voice.
He didn't dignify that with an answer.
"Well, Little Brother, lucky for you I might have a cure."
Rosinante swore his heart stopped. There was no way…
"Huh?" he whispered.
"That's right. We've found out where the Ope-Ope fruit is."
Rosinante put a hand to his forehead and looked over his shoulder at their campsite. His heart slammed against his ribcage and a cold sweat broke out across his forehead. There was no way. No fucking way. It couldn't be true.
"Where is it?" he blurted right away.
Fuck. He should have better composed himself because there was no way that Doffy didn't hear the desperation in his voice.
Doffy chuckled, "it's on an island up North. A crime family has it and they're going to give it to the FBI for around five billion dollars. Come home and we'll get it together."
The hair on the back of Rosinante's neck stood straight. It was a trap. It had to be.
"I'll meet you there," Rosinante said breathlessly. "It doesn't make sense for me to come back to the clubhouse if I'm already up North with Law."
There was a moment of hesitation, a moment where each brother silently sized the other up.
"All right then. We'll meet on Swallow Island. You know where that is?"
He didn't but he would figure it out.
"I'll find it," Rosinante said.
"Good. I'll see you in three days, Corazón."
Doffy hung up and Rosinante sucked in a much needed breath. This was it. Do or die, he would go to that island and get the fruit for Law.
He'd have to call Sengoku first and check the validity of the information. He just needed a second to pull himself together first.
He again looked at the campsite and squinted his eyes in the distance to see Law's slumped over figure.
He'd go the island. He'd go there and get the fruit to Law. Then they'd escape together and do whatever the hell they wanted with their newfound freedom. Maybe they'd go back to the real world and Rosinante could introduce Law to Sengoku (though he doubted Sengoku would appreciate the boy's sharp tongue) or maybe they'd live off the grid or maybe they'd just travel around for a few years with the money Rosinante made from the Donquixote Family.
There were so many possibilities. Freedom was so close that Rosinante could taste it.
He smiled to himself and produced his other phone to call Sengoku.
One way or another they'd get through this.
And over his cold, dead body would he let anyone take that fruit from Law.
Yeah so disappearing was not like me. At all. When I wrote my Shisui story (24 chapters) I only missed one week and that was because of school. But just to give you all some context, I currently live in Seattle and there was a family emergency that happened back home in Philadelphia. So I had to go home for that. And be quarantined because coronavirus... And then I got stuck in O'Hare for 3 days on my way back to Seattle and that was a disaster. And then I got home, got put on (my second) 14 day quarantine and then work blew up because of coronavirus and yeah. My life has been a disaster.
So I greatly apologize for disappearing. Just know that it wasn't laziness but genuine real life bullshit. Washington is a disaster. New York is a disaster. Pennsylvania is a disaster. Minnesota (where the other side of my family lives) is about to to be a disaster. So yeah. The world is falling apart?
So everyone please stay safe and take care of yourselves! These are weird times we're in but hopefully we'll get through everything.
If you enjoyed this chapter please drop a comment and let me know. Comments are definitely the pick me up I need right now given the absolute shit show my life currently is. Love you guys!
