vale - "goodbye"
"Mind your brother," they use to say. All the time. Repeated injections.
"Watch out for your brother."
"Go with your brother please."
"Doffy, you have a job now..."
"Doffy, please."
"You need to take care of him. Listen closely to what he wants. You have to make him happy. It's not important why."
"Where is your brother?"
"Doffy, where is he?"
xxx
This wasn't happening. Doflamingo had decided so, very abruptly at the beginning. He had no other coherent conclusions otherwise.
The Family nodded along. They spoke in gentle, appeasing tones and gave him lots of space. Like he was a wild animal they were all trapped on board with. Doflamingo was beyond caring. Rage was obliviating him. He couldn't hold onto any tangential thought for more than a second.
Where is he?
Gonegonegonegone. Rosi was gone. Again. Doflamingo hadn't even asked why the first time, not what happened or where he'd ended up. Even though the question had been haunting him for literal years. Even though it was an answer he deserved. He still refrained. He hadn't asked. He'd done that for him. And this was his repayment? Thought he could just turn heel and vanish again? Oh, no, it didn't work that way.
"Doffy, this is as close as we can get to port," Pica squeaked. Doflamingo whipped around, teeth bared. The executives stood in a huddle on deck, almost three and a half meters away from him. The other Family members had scattered like bugs from a torchlight.
"Why?"
"It's a naval base city," Diamante answered quietly, after no one spoke for an endless minute, "Our immunity doesn't stretch that far."
"So?"
Diamante glanced at Trebol and Pica, who were each focused on something rigidly in the distance. No help coming, Diamante turned to Doflamingo with reluctant eyes.
"...Why don't we try the Grand Line again? I mean, they were on a dinghy with no map, they couldn't have gotten to the West Blue already."
He shook his head. Over his shoulder was the island kingdom of Vale, the steel blue croppings of buildings and rooftops spread out in the sea-misted distance. Along the official quay, marine tankers sat in somber rows, positioned fore like hunting dogs waiting for release.
Somewhere in that city was Rosi. This one or a neighboring one. He was here, in the West Blue, Doflamingo was dead certain. June was nearing its end and there was no conceivable way his brother was still bobbing around the Grand Line with Law in that condition. Rosi could be innovative when he wanted to be. He was irrational and artless and simple, but his brother wasn't stupid. He merely played a fool. And he didn't need a map. Doflamingo had been the one after all, who had taught him the stars.
You took what is mine, he thought over and over again, until it grew tangled and confused, You took what is mine and you're getting in my way and you are mine...
"Move us forward."
Pica's eyes went wide. Diamante's jaw dropped.
"B-But Doffy-"
"Do it."
"Marines are crawling all over this place, you can't just-"
"I can't?"
The water stirred. Haki crimped the edges of the railing, made the surface crumple like dents in a metal can. Diamante went quieter than the grave. He made no further attempt to argue, but it didn't appease Doflamingo. Not at all. Nothing did.
Since when had all these different people started giving him orders? You can't do this, you can't do that, you must wait. Can'tcan'tcan't. Waitwaitwait. He was a king, he was a god, how dare anyone tell him what he could or couldn't do, tell him to wait-
Inexplicably, his eyes zeroed in on the long, dripping blue coat, where it dragged and puddled on the floor, half-concealing itself in Pica's shadow. The ropes of mucus were hanging lower and heavier than usual. Doflamingo tilted his head, vein pulsing across his cheekbone.
"You got nothing to say now, Trebol?" he said, taking a step forward, "No more comments to make?"
"No, Doffy," the man rasped, shaking his head. He was sweating all over, in fat rivulets that made his skin look like it was melting. The spindly knuckles around his cane were gray. Doflamingo's pupils shrank. A thought struck him out of the dark.
"Was it you?"
He took another step. "Trebol, was it you?" His fingers ghosted out, pulse thudding between his eyes.
Did you make Rosi leave?
"Doffy." Diamante's face was bone white. "Doffy, we'll get it handled. C...can ya please calm down?"
Doflamingo turned, the thought disintegrating in the distraction. His hand dropped back to his side. Trebol eyed it in sweat-iced silence. A beat passed.
"...can I calm down?"
He snickered suddenly, low and molten-hot. The railing gave with a piercing screech, twisting into a pretzel and tumbling into the depths. A slip of a breeze poured through the area, rustling blood-flecked feathers.
"You haven't found my brother," Doflamingo said softly, "You haven't found my brats. So ask me again, I dare you, and let's find out."
But Diamante did not ask again. A deep, horrible silence was to follow, before the cabin door opened. Vergo stepped from the groaning bowels of the ship, hands folded neatly behind his back. He regarded the scene without expression.
"Let me go instead, Doffy," he said, sunglasses catching the weak, cloud-dissolved rays. Doflamingo regarded him with a taut jaw. He hadn't asked Vergo to stay, but the man had insisted on it.
"You?"
"Yes. The Vale base is an outpost. The Admirals are at headquarters and most senior officials on islands around the Archipelago. I'll outrank any commanding officers here. Could go through the city and get the answers you want. We'll find them."
He twitched, the furrow of his brow smoothing faintly. The idea had merit, but Vergo wasn't the only vice admiral sailing in nearby waters. Tsuru was always dogging the perimeters of the New World. Always out there scrutinizing his every move. It'd been a month since Rosi left, but he couldn't yet gauge how much the rest of the world knew...
"Fine. Be discreet."
Vergo nodded without question. "As you wish."
If just a mite, Doflamingo's face softened, his rage wavering for a spare second or two. He could acknowledge that losing his temper with Vergo earlier had been a mistake. In the end, he was the only one that could ever be truly relied upon. The sole competent person in the whole fucking universe right now too, as it would seem.
"Don't disappoint me."
"Never," came the response, blank, but with unfathomable gravity.
xxx
(There was a strangeness to being in the Heart suite again. Not attachment per se, Vergo wasn't a man who regarded inanimate objects with any measure of sentiment, but instead more of...an irony. Rosinante had lived in this room for four years following him. Presumably, he would have left his mark behind and yet the walls were just as barren, the table and bed just as unruffled and empty. If not for the stench of smoke and the obliterated door, Vergo would've thought the room had been virtually untouched since his departure.
Simply showed again, he thought, that the man had never belonged here. Never had the right to be at Doffy's side, but for a matter of blood.
Vergo had to halt in pulling on his coat, massaging out an errant wrinkle of fury. At the same time, footsteps came to the gaping doorway.
"What have you done?" Diamante hissed and trudged inside, Trebol slithering in behind. A hard slab of stone slid down the threshold, sealing off light and noise from the corridor and submerging the Heart Suite in unnatural silence. Vergo turned, facing the other executives. He saw the craggy outline of Pica's face in the walled up doorway now, taking shape amongst the stones.
He did not blink. "What was best for our king."
Diamante laughed, half-tinged in hysteria. "Oh, yeah, he sounded beyond fucking thrilled up there." A skeletal hand clutched lank brown hair, tugged at it in anxiety. "God, why'd you even tell me about this? If Doffy finds out what you did, we're all dead. He's gonna-god, he's gonna-"
"No, he won't," Vergo said. "Not to us. We're his family."
A gaping look at him. "You think he'd pick us over Corazón? They're obsessed with each other. You know he never actually got over the bastard's disappearance that first-"
"Yes, he did." Vergo said, hands closing slowly, "He got over it. He didn't need that fool. He had us." He had me.
Diamante just shook his head, half-collapsing against the table. "What've you done?" he moaned again.
Vergo's brow creased. He did not particularly care for justifying himself to Diamante and turned to the other figure in the room, whose skin still blotched from its previous terror-induced sweat.
"He was ruining him, Trebol. As you said. I made the move you were too afraid to."
His only reply was silence for a brief stint. Then, in a voice nervous and tight, Trebol said, "It wasn't the right time."
"It never would have been."
"You're lucky he ran."
"Lucky? He was always going to run. How else do you catch a rat aside from dangling bait in front of the nest?"
"You were dangling our necks," Trebol spat, "All you had was a hunch."
Vergo gave that some thought. Perhaps that was true. A bit anyway. He'd bargained on the fact that Rosinante would run. He was like a wheel, turning round and round, repeating himself. A safety net of probability. Rosinante could not handle Doffy's nature. Could not accept who he was. He'd never been able to and Vergo knew in all the ways that counted that he'd run.
"You are backtracking, Trebol. How often have you insinuated Rosinante was disloyal?"
That made both Diamante and Trebol stiffen hard. Their twitching eyes swerved to the blocked off door, where Pica's thorny head hung like a decrepit work of art.
"Still shouldn't have stirred the pot, Vergo," it added, voice piercingly high, "We follow what Doffy wants. That's all."
"This is what he wants." Whether he knows it yet or not...
"Are you losin' it too?" Diamante's gaze was incredulous. "And more importantly, I don't think you're appreciating the difference between a ten year old boy with that kind of temper and a full-grown man. Especially when he's ten feet tall and slicing buildings open with his goddamn leg."
Vergo's lips pursed. Trebol cut in, before he could respond.
"You better not find him," he hissed, "Better hope Doffy doesn't either. Remember, Vergo. In the end, we had nothing to do with it. And you acted alone."
Diamante and Pica nodded instantly, like such plain denial hadn't occurred to them. Vergo wasn't perturbed. His allegiance wasn't to them. It mattered not what they thought. So it'd been unorthodox. So he had lied. It paled in comparison to what Rosinante had done. Whoever he had done it for, though Vergo's suspicions were ample.
Doffy's too, he'd no doubt.
And there was but one rule in the Donquixote Family.
Only one.
"Why should I hope for that?" he said, "If Rosinante's found, we'll just drag him back. Bring him before Doffy. And enjoy the show.")
xxx
In his quarters, Doflamingo gripped his head. The noise would not dispel, swelled like a column of fire.
You know where he's gone.
Why he's gone, you know why he's
In the corner, a flicker of something gathered, formed into a long, ratty shirt and a golden mop of hair. Rosi at eight years old. Doflamingo's blood went cold. He stumbled out before the eyes could take shape and open. But he thought it spoke anyway, tiny palm stretching after him. Childishly high voice. Absurdly innocent.
Trust me still, brother mine?
Trust me still?
xxx
They did not fight often. There was not time or energy enough for fighting. They had to rotate as lookout, had to give each other boosts over barbed wire and alley walls, had to sleep on the same bug-infested mattress and curl close for warmth in a shack riddled with holes. It was hard to do such things while angry at each other. Even harder still in silence.
Most of the problems they did have though, began with Doflamingo. He snapped occasionally when Rosinante tripped, when he dropped the dumpster lid too loudly and forced them to flee. He was frustrated beyond words sometimes with his brother's clumsiness, emotions raw and red from this tattered wreck they had for a life.
Rosinante did not argue. He let him vent, knowing his brother needed it on some instinctual level. He didn't get angry back at Doflamingo, even when he was being unfair. Just gave him his space and sat there waiting for him to return. Doflamingo always did. He never apologized, never admitted he was wrong, but he always came back.
Always let Rosinante lean against him afterwards. And gave his hand when it was asked for.
xxx
They retreated from the shallower waters once Vergo disembarked for Vale. Doflamingo had gotten his hands on the last casket of wine (Law must've dumped the rest, that little shit) and was chugging it manically. Jora and Machvise implored him to slow down. Gladius recited liver facts at him and Lao G offered his tea collection instead.
Doflamingo was going to do something he'd regret if they didn't all get out right now.
Almost like he knew, Senor Pink entered the lounge. A pastel yellow pacifier was in one hand and a Den Den Mushi in the other. He stuck the former in his mouth, suckling, speaking around it as if it were a toothpick instead.
"It's for you, Young Master," he said, offering the snail, gave the rest of the Family a look, "Private call."
They filed out immediately, without even being told. Ants in a row. Senor Pink brushed the lace of the bonnet from his face. Doflamingo took the Den Den Mushi, staring at him. His limp, unwashed hair, his softening physique.
"We'll go back," Doflamingo said without understanding why, "To the graves. After all this. If you want."
Senor Pink smiled a short hollow smile. "'s not about what I want anymore." And shut the door behind him, left the lounge empty and still. Doflamingo returned his gaze to the snail.
Its eyes were open. A cool, clear and deep steel that he recognized with unfortunate and instant familiarity. Doflamingo forced on a grin, even as his eyes widened behind his frames.
"Tsuru-san. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
xxx
("The pleasure's all mine, I'm sure," Tsuru said, standing at the prow of the tanker. The clouded day obscured most of the horizon, but she could just see the bare outline of the Donquixote ship, sitting on the outskirts of Vale's harbor like a banished ghost. It was no longer the garish, bombastic flamingo their captain had taken such a fondness too. This model was a more traditional variety, something older she knew he'd taken back as a teenager. A dark, behemoth of a tetanus hazard.
She could only imagine how it groaned.
"Do you think you're being cute, boy? Coming into naval waters. Your immunity's getting stripped soon."
Replaced with a warlord offer, she was aware, though Tsuru saw no reason to inform him. She still seethed just from the proposal. Had spoken out with vehemence at the meeting. They should not be trying to appease a tantruming child already so distorted by indulgences and who couldn't be appeased anyway. He didn't need more power.
From her standpoint, the only thing Doflamingo needed now were daily doses and a padded cell.
"Fufufu, I did catch word." The snail's mouth curled. "What could I have done to upset the lot of you so?"
"What's your business here?" she said simply, ignoring the bait.
"A man can't just go on a sail?"
"You're not here on a sail."
"Says who. Why are you even calling?"
Tsuru's brow tilted slightly. There was strain in the boy's tone, almost undetectable but for how little a mystery he was to her these days.
With almost a sigh, she readjusted the draped coat over her shoulders. Sengoku had informed her of Rosinante's earlier call, how distraught he'd been, how he had the Donquixote children with him and wanted her to take them to safety. Sengoku could not even get a word in, let alone learn of what happened. It had left the old codger quite baffled and upset himself.
And Tsuru supposed now, in a way, she'd come to check up on the other side. To see how it fared. Maybe that's why she called.
So she tested just a bit more.)
xxx
"Is your brother well?"
Doflamingo flinched, startled for the increment of a second. Tsuru did not seem to notice. Her gaze though was unblinking, resoundingly shrewd. He recovered quickly.
"Heh, what is this. Are you concerned about our family affairs now?"
There was a scoff. "Such pointless talk you enjoy," she said and if he listened closely, he could hear the waves in the background, washing up against the sides of her vessel. The more serene cadence of the West Blue's open sea. She must be close, just out of sight, somewhere in the fog. His nails dug into the armrest of his chair. What could he do? He knew he had to run.
Doflamingo stood, gliding to the door, aiming to snatch the first crew member he saw and get the ship turned around.
Then Tsuru said, "I've just heard recently that he might have gone his own way."
Doflamingo froze. He gaze riveted back to the Den Den Mushi as it continued.
"Perhaps it's true, perhaps it isn't. But you know Corazón actually has considerable notoriety in his own right. Removing him from the seas has always been on our list too. I don't make a habit of negotiating with pirates, but...how about a trade, boy?"
"A trade?" he said. Heard himself say. The snail nodded.
"Share some intel on where he could be and I'll let you go this time. Afford you respite for a couple of months."
Veins sprouted across his skin.
xxx
("No."
Tsuru almost blinked. "What?"
The Den Den Mushi's expression was blank to the point of disturbance, even as the voice seethed, left virtual charred pockets in the air.
"You stay away. This is all because of you people."
"Doflamingo-"
"It's all your fault," the snail's face contorted, voice faltering, "You give me back my brother."
A note of genuine distress was tunneling out of the words. Tsuru's eye widened, taken aback at how young it suddenly made him sound.
"Doflamingo," she said, voice softening, "Child, calm down."
"No!" The snail's expression twisted again. It should've been ridiculous, but it wasn't. Not at all.
"Stay away from him," Doflamingo hissed, "Or I'll fucking kill you. All of you. I will."
And the line went dead.)
xxx
"Coooora-san, aren't you done yet?"
Rosinante sighed, glancing over his shoulder at Baby and Buffalo, both wedged in the threshold. Law stood back slightly, though no less quizzical.
"No. Just go play."
"But Cora-san, we're bored."
"And hungry," Buffalo added.
"Can't we sit with you, Cora-san?" Baby murmured, wistful, "The Young Master let me sit with him sometimes. Even when he was working."
Rosinante resisted a twitch, hands squeezing in his effort. He hoped it hadn't been too obvious. Law had been watching him more intensely with each day.
"...I'm almost done. One more hour, alright? Then we'll see about something better to eat tonight."
Baby Five drooped, but nodded. "If that's what you need of me." Buffalo rubbed his hands immediately and conjectured about dinner, having long complained of how starved he'd been, living off the protein bars and fruit cups they'd had of their provisions. Rosinante doubted he could fathom what it actually meant to be starving. How much of a godsend protein bars and fruit cups really were.
"One hour, Cora-san," Baby warned, with a strict finger, "It's a deal."
She followed Buffalo out, back into the main room of the abandoned house they were squatting in. Law turned too. Then he paused and glanced over his shoulder.
"He...does know where we are right?"
Rosinante flipped open the paper, faked engrossment in some botanical study being held at Green Bit. "Yeah."
"And you're not fighting anymore?"
He exhaled silently through his nose. "Get going, brat."
Law frowned, like he wanted to retort. But in the end, he said nothing and did as he was told.
xxx
There was only once that Rosinante was the instigator. When Mother was dead and Father gone most hours of the day, travelling miles on foot to the next town to beg for alms. When it was just them one night, in the dead of winter, with nothing but a pool of wax for a candle.
Rosinante almost did not recall why he had gotten so angry. Just that Mother was dead. She was dead and she was nowhere and they'd never hear her, smell her or touch her again. That his brother had yet to cry, as if none of that meant anything to him. And that all Doflamingo craved these days was the dark while Rosinante longed for the light.
Maybe if he'd known how to put it into words. Or if he'd been anything but six and afraid...
"How are you suppose to sleep with the candle burning?" Doflamingo said, the calmer one for once, "And we have to keep it dark, remember? What if someone sees us?"
"No, no! I want it on!" Rosinante said, stomping his foot, "Then-then I'm gonna sleep outside!" It was not so much brighter outside, but there was at least the moon. At least the stars. He stormed for the door, before his brother seized his arm.
"You can't go out there, Rosi! It's freezing-"
"It's always freezing!" He pushed Doflamingo away suddenly, hard enough that he actually stumbled. "I-It's always freezing, it's always dark, it always hurts and it's because of you!"
"What are you talking about?" Doflamingo's brows were raising, lifting above his glasses to near touch his hairline. "Rosi, you're gonna get spotted-"
"I DON'T CARE!" Out of nowhere, tears started spilling from Rosinante's eyes, drenching his face. He hiccuped in his efforts to quiet his sobs. Doflamingo regarded him with utter bewilderment. He did not understand what had happened. Wasn't sure if he'd done something wrong. Annoyance gnawed at the borders of his confusion.
"If they catch you," he said eventually, "they're gonna beat you so bad you'll be peeing blood again for a week. Or they'll take you away and trade you, like those kids at the red house."
Rosinante gripped his shirt, swallowing gasps. The wind hissed and made the dying little breath of candlelight wobble.
And he said, "I'd trade you, for anyone else in the world!"
The candle went out. So Rosinante never saw his brother's face then. Nor did his brother see the shock of a mistake on his own.
They plunged headfirst into a thick, abominable silence. Thicker even than the dark. For a moment, Rosinante stood there in blank horror. He could not even hear his brother breathe, before suddenly he could.
Suddenly there were footsteps, brisk and abrupt, moving to the door and Rosinante tried to say so many things at the same time that nothing came out of his mouth at all.
oh god I'm sorry Doffy I didn't mean I'm sorry that wasn't right Doffy please oh where are you going?
The door slammed shut.
xxx
He'd just finished the paper when Tsuru called. Not a word or clue about Barrels, or any strange incidents that could be attributed to the Ope Ope no Mi. Rosinante was fairly confident it was still out there. The bounty was so high that Barrels probably had it close at hand. Wouldn't have let anyone eat it. If he could just figure out where the man was...
"You were rash, boy."
Rosinante looked away. "Will the rendezvous spot work for you, ma'am?" was all he said.
The small Den Den Mushi blinked, Tsuru's cool eyes regarding him. "It will. Vale is very accessible to the Navy after all. I could pick up all three children if you'd prefer."
"No, just the two. The third one...he's sick. I'm taking him to get cured."
"We have the highest-grade medical facilities."
"No." Rosinante did not intend for his voice to come out so hard, but it did. "I'll take care of him, ma'am."
Tsuru was quiet. After a long moment, she asked, in a strange gentle tone, "Why did you leave?"
He lowered his head. Just on the other side of the door, Baby and Buffalo were engaged in another game of riddles. ("They try to beat me. They try in vain...and when I win, I end the pain.") Law was probably sitting on the ground nearby, leaned against the foot of the abandoned couch, reading whatever newspapers Rosinante had discarded.
"What was left there?" he whispered, "I went back for my brother. My brother's long gone. He died eighteen years ago on that island all alone."
In fire.
In Father's blood.
"What are you saying, boy?" the snail's eyes peered at him carefully, "He's not gone."
Rosinante shook his head. He wanted to end the call now, before his throat tightened up, before Tsuru could hear his voice choke. He failed. "Yes, he is."
"Rosinante." There was a sound, like Tsuru shifting forward in her seat. "Take a breath. It's alright. Tell me what happened."
But she was perfectly aware of what happened. The island's burning had been in the papers for almost two months. It was being considered one of the worst genocides in the history of the North Blue. Secretly, Rosinante knew that if not for Jora, the body count would've rivaled even Flevance's. But the White City didn't exist to the media anymore, over-watched by the vast eye of the Government. Instead, the articles focused on Doffy with rabid interest, trying to dissect his brain, puzzle out the why with pop psychiatry columns and celebrity therapists. They wasted their time. Whatever they were trying to study wasn't there.
Maybe it'd never truly been there to begin with.
Maybe even what Rosinante had loved so desperately had only been a shadow, an illusion conjured out of his own aching wishes. What had Sengoku said? I know you want to think there was a reason...that something broke him apart inside. But nothing could have, Rosinante. Nothing did, because he was already-
"Broken."
The Den Den Mushi blinked again. "...broken?"
"That's what he is. All this time. Since the beginning. He's never been able to feel. Never been able to love. Not these kids, not the crew. Not our parents and not..." Rosinante closed his heating eyes, re-opened them. "He has no heart, Tsuru-san, and he was born wrong."
He tried to hang up after that, unable to bear the silence to follow or what his own conscience had in store. How can you say that, it was already whispering, that's your brother. All you ever had. That's your world.
Tsuru spoke quickly, as if anticipating his move.
"Rosinante, you gave up your entire life to return for your brother. A career, friends, love. You were doing research for months on end, interviewing therapists and studying medications. You wanted him to live with you, once he'd done his time. Even went off plan and gave him your voice. Took risks you didn't have to. You were determined to save him, don't you remember?"
Of course he did. They were suppose to be together.
"You can't save what's gone."
The snail's gaze was full of pity and Rosinante was truly getting sick of the sight. Pity didn't fix anything. Didn't accomplish anything except arrive too little and too late.
"You already know my thoughts on Doflamingo," Tsuru said after a moment, "The boy is missing something, I can't argue. But you are wrong, Rosinante, if you believe he does not care for you."
Rosinante brought the speaker down.
"I'll leave them where we agreed, Tsuru-san."
"I know it must hurt, child, but you have to think carefully."
"They're just kids. They'll be afraid."
"You may very well be-"
"Please don't make them wait."
"-the only thing in this world-"
"Goodbye, Tsuru-san."
"-that he loves."
Rosinante hung up.
xxx
He remained awake for hours afterwards, long, long past when their mother would have required them asleep, staring at the decaying rafters with his heartbeat in his throat. All his tears had dried, trails of salt crusted onto his cheeks. He was not angry anymore. Didn't want the moon or the stars, or even that sliver of light. He wanted his brother and that was all.
What would he even do, if Doffy had been caught by the mob? If he really had been traded away?
Rosinante thought about this quite numbly. He concluded in the end that he'd probably just die. That if his brother never came back, if something had happened to him, he'd just lay here and give up and wait to expire. It was one of the last thoughts he had too, before drifting off into a doze.
He startled awake again unknown hours later, as the door opened and shut. Rosinante's eyes snapped wide. "Doffy?" No response. A shape moved through the room quietly. Rosinante paled. It did not sound like an animal.
He tried again. "Brother?" A note of fear slipped by. "Is that you?"
There was a shifting in the shadows. A glint of black frames. Then Doflamingo's voice drifted through the dark. "Go back to sleep."
Rosinante lifted himself onto his elbows instantly, squinting, trying to make out the outline of his brother. "You come too."
Silence.
"Please?"
He waited for several beats in the stillness. Almost began wondering if he should just move to his brother instead when Doflamingo materialized before him, shuffling to their stained little pallet and laying down. He was cold as ice from being outside. Rosinante didn't care, tossing the blanket over him and dragging him close.
"I didn't mean it," he whispered, against his brother's chest, "Doffy, I'm sorry."
Doflamingo grunted. "I know, it's okay."
Rosinante was not reassured. He lifted his head, peeking up at his brother beneath their ratty, threadbare coverlet. "I don't want anyone else," he said, "I would never ever trade you. I'm happy you're here."
Doflamingo's gaze flickered down.
"Yeah?" he said, "You're happy?"
Rosinante nodded, his wavy blond locks bouncing. His eyes gleamed with worry, feared Doflamingo would not believe him. But his brother almost smiled. He ran a hand through Rosinante's hair, mussing it up slightly.
"Okay, Rosi. Go to sleep now."
Rosinante lay his head back down. A knob of anxiety was still there, eating at him. His own previous words rang like endless bells in his head and he couldn't believe what he had said, regretted it so.
"I love you," he whispered in that small, filthy room, gripping his brother's shirt, "I always will. You know that right?"
A sigh. "I know. Stop talking already."
Rosinante bit his lip. He went quiet for a long beat, and then, "Doffy...do you love me too?"
Doflamingo blinked, awake again as he tried to peer down at his brother, who had burrowed down into the sheet and refused to raise his head. He eventually relented with a raised brow, better adjusting his arm so it wouldn't go numb. His brother had never asked him such a question before and for a moment, he wondered if he was understanding it correctly.
But he gave the answer he had. That was how things were when it came to Rosi and would always be-he gave what he had. Whatever it may be and whether or not it was enough.
"You're family," he said, "And you're mine."
Rosinante smiled, heart filled. He hugged Doflamingo as close as he could and they slept.