poena - "pain, punishment and penalty"
Oh, the Marine dogs were called off of him instantly. Almost overnight. The title he required though - that would take some time.
Most of it was a matter of ego. Doflamingo imagined with delight how Mariejois smarted over the humiliation. They would withhold a warlord offer and let him run rampant, as if to imply they weren't afraid, that he wasn't threat enough to deal the most permanent, most disfiguring damage ever conceived.
Well, whether that was true or not, he was sure they were perfectly aware.
And Doflamingo didn't mind playing the long game. The Grand Line was a big place after all, with so many fabulous little pieces inside. He'd have some fun before they came around groveling.
xxx
Doffy lost all inhibition in the new year. Ever since the raid and release of the Celestial Dragon back to Mariejois, he had ordered riskier and riskier attacks. The ports and fleets the Family's preyed upon became of a far larger and deadlier variety, some with giant Marine forces stationed only a couple knots away.
No one ever stopped them. They took what they pleased, slaughtered who they pleased, entered recklessly and stayed for hours and no one ever came. This new laughable ease with which his brother conducted business horrified Rosinante.
Sengoku could not get the Gorosei to budge, no matter his or Tsuru's protestations, or even what Rosinante reported. For them, every life had already been relegated to a column on a balance sheet - numbers to be subtracted at the leisure of his brother's whims. About the only thing that gave Doffy pause anymore was when Rosinante sweet-talked (or shouted) him into bypassing an idea himself.
The World Government would not touch the Donquixote Family.
Rosinante didn't even know why he was so damn surprised.
xxx
("Shit."
Baby Five jumped as a crash resounded behind her, whipping around with wide eyes. Law, who had been at her heels a few minutes ago, was now almost twelve feet away and on his knees. The boxes he'd been carrying had fallen in a mess around him, one of them split open on its side, dumping out tools and medical supplies. Baby Five dropped her own boxes and padded back.
"Law?"
He was clutching his head, blinking blearily at the ground like he couldn't see it well. He cursed again.
Baby Five squatted down next to him, hands on knees, looking out towards the ship – a tiny pink dot in the far scarlet distance buoyed to the docks. It was getting late. Buffalo had probably already gone ahead on board. He didn't like waiting for Law, who had been getting slower and slower since the new year, needing more and more breaks to catch his breath.
Not that she could blame him. Law was grumpier than usual too. He hadn't been very fun lately.
"We're going to get scolded," she murmured, "Jora said we have to be back by six."
"I didn't ask you to wait."
Baby Five ignored him, because Law never asked for anything. He was just like Cora-san had been when she first joined the Family, the one person who never gave her any requests.
"I'll wait," she said and got a scowl. Law tried to get back to his feet, but only fell down again on his butt. Baby Five dragged one of the boxes over and pushed his back against it.
She was gaining a knack for telling when Law truly needed help. Or when his body needed it anyway, even if his mind didn't want it, even if he never said 'thank you' and his glare was still very scary.
Baby Five made a stiff upper lip to keep herself from whimpering. She righted the second box that had fallen over, picking up all the spilled contents and carefully setting them back inside.
There was a beat where Law just watched her. The rise and fall of his chest was strained. "It'll be dark in another minute," he said, "Just go back to the ship."
Baby Five blinked. "…What about you?"
"I'll follow when I'm ready. Hurry the hell up and go. Doflamingo must be getting his jollies from living on the edge these days. This island's crawling with Marines."
"Don't say rude things about the Young Master," Baby Five chided instantly, even if she was a little confused about it herself. She couldn't leave Law here alone though. Even if he was becoming less and less useful to the Young Master, he was still family.
And they were on the emptier side of the island anyway. The dock the ship was anchored at was abandoned (now that Gladius and Senor Pink had made it so). If she helped Law walk, they could make it back safely in the dark.
"Someone's coming."
Law hissed the words, right before heavy footsteps vibrated through the stillness. Baby Five's heart stuttered as a shadow came down the trail towards them. They were out in the open, literally in the middle of the road. She froze.
"Get out of here," Law was muttering, "Baby, go now, there's still time."
"I-It's them," she whispered, and raised her hand. It took her forever to manage to reshape it into a gun. "The Marines."
The Young Master had always told her to stay away from the Marines. He compared them to the big Venus flytraps Trebol-san liked to raise. At first, they could look harmless, even nice, could offer her exciting promises and yummy sweets, but once she was close enough they would snatch her up and never let go. They would take her away from the Young Master, from the Family, and she would be alone and unhappy for the rest of her life.
Baby Five was terrified of them. She could even say she hated them. And Law would get caught if she left him. He would be the one taken away and she didn't want that to happen. He was so alone already. She felt bad for him all the time.
The shadow drew closer. It was so big. Baby Five paled and shook. She crumpled slightly and when it was barely ten feet away, she suddenly gave in, whimpered and her eyes squeezed shut.
They opened again a second later at a familiar voice.
"Kids?"
The shadow became Cora-san. He looked just as surprised to see them. Maybe even more.
"What are you doing here?" he said and Baby Five thought his eyes shifted, flicked up towards the road behind them, before widening at Law. "What hap—"
"Cora-san!" Her gun remolded into her hand and she grabbed the hem of his shirt. "There's something wrong with Law, he can't get up, please help!"
He was already moving before she'd even finished. Cora-san knelt down in front of Law, who kept saying he was fine over and over again, mouth twisted into a frustrated grimace. He looked angry now with Baby Five, so she darted for cover behind Cora-san's coat, watching as he slid a hand beneath Law's thin shoulders and propped him up.
His shirt hung loose beneath the moonlight and revealed the white patch on his chest, along with a whole cluster of similar spots. It was like he'd gotten flour dough or paint stains stuck all over himself and Baby Five's eyes widened.
"This is larger than before," Cora-san said, brushing his thumb against the one on Law's chest. He sounded worried and Baby Five saw the way it made Law freeze.
"No, it's not," he grumbled, trying to swat Cora-san's fingers away, "You're imagining stuff."
Baby Five was about to pipe up that it did look larger than before, when they all stiffened at the sound of new footsteps.
They weren't as deep as Cora-san's, but there were two sets of them. Law grunted in surprise as Cora-san scooped him into his arms. Baby Five squeaked and pressed into Cora-san's coat, burrowing her face into the black feathers.
"Calm down," he said and Baby Five buttoned her mouth immediately, even though she didn't really feel like staying quiet when two real Marines stepped into view this time. They were both girls – the younger one was wearing the uniform she usually saw Marines in, while the older lady had a long white overcoat draped over her shoulders, the kind Jora had told her signaled the rank of an officer.
"Well, this is a surprise, Executive Corazón. Finding pirates mere miles from a main base. The nerve of your lot astounds me by the day," the older lady said and Baby Five accidentally caught her gaze. Her hair was a graying blue, which Baby Five could tell use to be very pretty. She looked around Jora's age, though Jora never had that same stern set to her mouth that she did. Her eyes were hard as rocks and scary to look into. They made Baby Five feel tiny.
"…Are these the children?" she asked.
It was amazing how calm Cora-san was. Baby Five wondered if he had a plan, because he stood up after a moment, still carrying Law. "They are."
The younger girl said a bad word. She tried to look closer at Baby, but Baby didn't let her, wiggling further into Cora-san's coat. He didn't move. Nothing else was said. They stood there in the rapidly chilling night, staring at each other and Baby didn't know what Cora-san was thinking. Why weren't they trying to escape?
The older lady crossed her arms. She released a breath that was almost a sigh.
"And where is your captain?" she asked.
"At your service, madam."
From the corner of her eye, Baby Five saw Cora-san, Law and the younger Marine all flinch. As soon as the Young Master had appeared however, materializing out of thin air a few steps behind Cora-san, Baby Five detached herself and scrambled to him.
"Young Master!" she cried and ran for his left leg, where she felt safest in the world, and clung to the fabric of his trousers. The Young Master patted her head, his large hand smoothing down a few strands of her hair.
"I wasn't expecting you here," he said, "Come to play, Tsuru-san?"
Baby Five blinked at the familiarity of the name. She struggled to place it for only a moment, before remembering it was the name of the one Marine the Young Master said she mustn't be caught by no matter what. That if Tsuru caught her, she would never ever be able to see him again.
Baby Five trembled, tears gathering at the unfathomable thought. She buried her face into the Young Master's leg.
"I think the better question is have you come to surrender, Doflamingo," Tsuru said, "Given how thoughtfully you've been sending your crew to me as of late, duckling by duckling."
What a silence followed after that. So many years on, Baby would remember neither the cause nor meaning behind Tsuru's words, but would always remember that silence-so wholly awful and blank. Something seemed to hiss across the Young Master's skin, warm and dry like static.
"Such unpleasant business you choose to engage in," he said, and suddenly took Cora-san by the shoulder and pulled him back, stepping in front of him and Law, "If he hadn't been on my crew, the entire lot of you would have walked right by him."
The younger Marine gripped her sword and prepared to unsheathe. Tsuru held out her hand. "It's alright, lieutenant," she said and looked up at the Young Master flatly, as though he was anything less than three times her size. "You have misconceived my intentions for spite. The child required more than you could give. That is all. You ought to realize it."
"No," the Young Master said, nearly cutting her off, "He belonged to me. He was mine. I found him. I kept him. I wanted him when no one else in the world did, least of all you people…"
She heard his knuckles crack, heard Law's puzzled mumble of the Young Master's name. Baby Five saw the wink of strings unwinding from the hand still heavy over her head. "Young Master?" she whispered, at the same time Cora-san reached out and grabbed his shoulder.
"Doffy, stop."
The Young Master went still. Several beats passed where she barely breathed, before his muscles finally relaxed. The strings loosened, breaking from his fingers and tangling in her hair. He would pluck them out later and braid them into a ring for her. He would say he was sorry, but never explain.
"Well, as much as I enjoyed chatting, I think we'll be on our way." The Young Master prodded Cora-san, who started moving towards the pier, Law cradled in his arms. Baby Five saw him cast another glance at Tsuru, a quick and strange one she didn't think the Young Master saw.
"You'll behave, Doflamingo," Tsuru said, "If you know what's good for you."
"Oh? Why? Are you coming to stop me, Tsuru-san? Going to chase me around and around again until we've gone another lap around the North Blue?"
"Nothing would delight me more," Tsuru said, curt, her eyes narrowing just slightly, "But your recent actions have certainly been tiresome ones. What are you planning now? What have you done, boy?"
The Young Master laughed.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
He wrenched away without another word, pulling her from his leg and into his arms. He was too rough and it hurt, but she said nothing, bunching up his shirt in her hands, pressing as close as she could. Baby Five didn't look back again until the distance had stretched good and wide.
Tsuru hadn't moved at all.)
xxx
What have you done, boy?
xxx
"I said I'm fine. Put me down already, I can walk on my own."
Rosinante's eyes widened as Law proceeded to follow his declaration with a series of harsh coughs. In the relative coolness of the ship, fever radiated from the small body as it near-convulsed in his arms.
"Hold on, hold on," he said, hurrying into the childrens' bunkroom and setting him gently on a bed. Law's face was nearly colorless by the time he could calm down from the fit. He hung limp for a moment against Rosinante, without even the strength to sit upright and Rosinante knelt at the bedside sort of awkwardly, back strained.
"It's just the flu," Law said, voice hoarse, "Buffalo had it a few weeks ago and I must've caught it. I'm fine. Don't make that stupid face."
Rosinante's brow furrowed.
"What face?" he said and eased Law onto his bed, drawing up the sheets, "Get some rest."
Law's mouth scrunched into a frown at being babied, but he also seemed exhausted enough not to protest. He set his head back against the pillow, disgruntled. Rosinante held back a sigh and stood.
There'd been a few times now in which Law had approached him, tugged on his shirt or climbed into his lap, looking like he wanted to say something. He had never managed to though and every one of these meetings ended in Law pursing his lips and trying to shuffle away. Rosinante, of course, wouldn't let him until he'd tousled his hair and hugged him and they'd generally messed around enough that Law departed with a tiny smile on his face.
In hindsight, perhaps he'd only made it harder.
Because as the boy's health took a nosedive in the new year, he'd stopped trying to talk about the disease at all and simply began hiding it from him instead. Poorly. Until Rosinante had finally connected the dots for himself. The child was running out of time. He was dying.
A crash reverberated from the hallway. A wine bottle shattering that jolted him out of his thoughts.
He winced at the crazed laughter which shuddered through a second later, followed by the alarmed voices of Family members. Doffy.
"He really does drink too much," Law whispered, "You should go stop him."
He spoke with flat practicality, gazing up at Rosinante with his drooping golden eyes. They were larger somehow than they use to be, more like a child's, and because of this he didn't manage to hide the flicker of sadness in them. The faint disappointment.
Rosinante's chest crumpled. He sat down again on the edge of the bed.
"I'll stay until you fall asleep."
Law breathed. He was too tired to argue or even feign irritation. When Rosinante reached out to test his temperature again, the boy leaned in.
xxx
The waves were as restless as he was.
Doflamingo snickered, half hanging off the crow's nest as he hurtled another empty bottle off his perch. The stars had sprayed across the sky, overcrowding the moon, little ragged white pinpricks like bullet holes on fancy wallpaper.
It would take a while before he'd grow bored of the memory of Tsuru's face as they'd sailed away - the impotent rage simmering in the eyes of her otherwise stoic expression.
Doflamingo had not truly felt the intoxication of his new freedom until he'd seen her face and the giddy thought flitted through his head of seeking out other marine officers to flaunt around in front of too – the higher the rank the more amusing the fury would probably be. He dismissed the idea quickly though.
It wouldn't be as satisfying on anyone else. He savored it on Tsuru, because it felt personal. Because she frustrated him and perplexed him and she'd taken what was his.
And she was wrong. About everything. She was wrong.
His lips peeled back, the bones of his jaws grinding.
Don't presume to know me, old crone…
"There you are."
A shadow blanketed his face. Doflamingo blinked, unfolding his arms from behind his head as Rosi sat down beside him.
"How'd you get up here?" He glanced out of the crow's nest. "You could've broken your neck, fool."
"Like the way you're about to break yours?" Rosi said and pulled him upright. A cigarette dangled from his mouth as his thumb flicked impatiently over his lighter. Doflamingo hastily reached over to help him, before he could set them both on fire.
Smoke seeped past Rosi's dark lips and webbed into the night, casting out like a glossy net. They sat for a while in companionable silence, legs hanging beside each other, before his brother stirred again.
"You took forever to find."
Doflamingo's brow lifted at the trace of accusation. "I wasn't aware you were looking for me."
Rosi sighed and flicked ash onto the wood.
"I'm always looking for you."
Doflamingo tilted his head. His brother never elaborated though, or even glanced at him again. He was staring out towards the rolling, glittering sea, jaw tight and shoulders drooped. An old, half-dead instinct urged him towards concern.
"…Is something the matter, Rosi?"
The answer took so long in coming Doflamingo almost thought it wouldn't.
"It's about Law."
And Rosi told him about the growing white spots, the fever, the warp speed at which the disease was spreading. Doflamingo realized then that he'd forgotten about the boy's illness. Forgotten entirely. Even though it was one of the few things he'd ever given a second, third or fourth shit about.
Try as he might, he couldn't recall how that had happened.
Well, why bother now? The voice inside whispered. It's too late. A shame, a waste, but you've greater things to attend to. Kid's going to die. Corazón will get over it.
But Doflamingo looked into his little brother's eyes, his soft weak eyes, and thought He won't.
Doesn't matter. The voice said. Doesn't matter anymore.
But Rosi wouldn't be happy. How could that not matter? Doflamingo touched his brother's shoulder. He swiped the hair out of his startled eyes.
"I'll take care of it," he said, even as his mind kept pulsing, kept hissing—
Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter anymore.
Yes, it does. The past breathed.
xxx
"I found what you were asking for, Doffy."
"Excellent. And who will I have to persuade to hand it over?"
"I'll send you the coordinates of the last known location. From what I've heard, you might be…a bit surprised."
Doflamingo's brow rose. Though the Den Den Mushi's expression didn't change, there was a bemused note to Vergo's voice.
"And why's that, Mr. Vice Admiral?" he said, propping his chin with a hand, "Not anything troublesome, is it?"
The snail's mouth turned slightly. Vergo never expressed his feelings on his recent promotion, unless Doflamingo brought it up first. He'd told Doflamingo that, to him, it was only what was expected to better complete his mission. Fuck, his Vergo was so perfect. So wonderfully useful and relentless.
"Of course not. It's a matter of irony mainly. Coincidence. I think you'll have some fun with it."
"Fufu, you're an endless tease. Will I really?"
"If I know you, Doffy, then yes. You will."
xxx
And Vergo did know him well.
Doflamingo laughed for so long he had to sit down. He was still giggling to himself later in the lounge, trying to stifle the noise, while Senor Pink accosted the Family with pictures of his new son.
Doflamingo didn't even catch the name. His mind went around and around, looping like a wheel of fire. Of all the places it could've been.
God, it was such a small, shitty world.
xxx
"Do you recognize this?"
Rosinante restrained his flinch when Doffy unrolled the stained and crinkly map on the table. He was seated across from him in the meeting room, doused to his elbows in crimson, grinning as if he were expecting praise. Rosinante had no idea where his brother had gone, only that it was supposed to be a "surprise" and he hadn't been permitted to come along.
The other executives plodded past them, each holding a bulging sack of loot, each grinning almost as wide as their don. Trebol's gaze crawled like a slug over his face as he went by.
"Rosi, hurry up, at least give me a guess."
Rosinante looked down at the parchment. It was a faded rendition of the North Blue, grossly inaccurate along certain degrees and some of the landmarks poorly drawn. Rosinante wondered blankly who Doffy had killed for something as nonsensical as this.
"It's a map."
His brother sighed, flecked and spindly fingers drumming against the tabletop.
"Obviously, fool. But what about that island in the upper left corner?"
Rosinante looked down again. He was having trouble concentrating and it wasn't because the room was suffocating under the stenches of copper and iron or that his brother was the primary source for both (and god, that said something terrible there, didn't it?)
It was because there was a messily added sketch crammed into the borders, with shaky arrows zig-zagging from it to the gnarled mass of land Doffy was so insistent he identify.
"What's this?" he finally asked, pointing at the sketch. It had been done in frantic, overzealous strokes of red crayon, as if the artist had been afraid of forgetting its image. The shape resembled a heart-shaped strawberry, with a thin stem of green up top. "Is that…a Devil Fruit?"
Doffy pouted, upset he'd jumped the gun, but nodded.
"The Ope Ope no Mi."
xxx
Sometimes, he thought Rosi a bit slow.
Fifteen minutes worth of breath sharing all the details he'd gathered about the fruit's powers, its rarity, its mind-boggling potential and his brother just sat there squinting at him. Eyes half-glazed over as though Doflamingo was making him suffer through the steps of long division again.
"…So the user performs surgeries."
He held another sigh. "You make it sound so mundane. These are miraculous surgeries, Rosi. They defy physics. They can alter the existential plane. It's not just being able to sew up a gut wound or pull out a fucking cavity. This fruit can switch around the floors of a thousand-ton building, physical locations, personalities. It can pop out your heart without a drop of blood and it can cure anything."
At this, Rosi finally began to look a little more attentive.
"You mean…"
Doflamingo grinned. "Yes, Rosi. Life-threatening injuries, genetic disorders…incurable diseases."
Rosi's eyes were steadily widening, hope shimmering bright and naked on his face like first light.
He asked in a rasp, "Where is it?"
Doflamingo flattened his palm over the map. Finally, they were back at the main point. How awful and ugly it was. How fucking hilarious.
xxx
What have you done, boy?
xxx
"What do you remember of the old island?"
Rosinante blinked at the sudden question.
It took him a moment to figure out what "old island" Doffy was referring to, before the phantom shivers were flowing down his spine.
What did he remember?
It was a bit blurred now, a sweeping expanse of heat and gore and anger and pain. There were two years of hunger, the death of Mother, the death of Father, rats skittering from dumpsters.
What could he remember that Doffy didn't tenfold? Rosinante had been too young and he would never be able to discern if that had been to his misfortune or not.
Doffy knew every spat curse, every stench, every thin lick of flame. Why was he even asking? What did this have to do with the Devil Fruit?
"There were butterflies," Rosinante heard himself say, "And the rain."
His brother snorted as if he'd been expecting such an answer. As if it were so typical of him.
"Well, it's all still there, Rosi." Blood-soaked knuckles rapped. "Waiting."
xxx
What have you done?
xxx
But it wasn't about what he had done. It was about what he hadn't.
Not yet anyway.