Topaz had scraped herself from the kitchen floor and put in a call to Kuronue. After she hung up with him, she just broke down and fell apart. Law could hear her crying all the way outside. He was in her garden with the bloodied creature and a shovel, digging a small shallow grave.
Kuronue would need to see the thing, but then it could be buried.
It was owed at least that.
Law pushed the spade deep into the soft moist earth and then leaned on the shovel. His heart was thundering behind his ribs and showed no intention of ever slowing.
He was afraid, not for himself or even his life, but for Topaz. She had looked terrible sitting on the floor, pale and tearstained, reaching out for the creature he had just killed in his hands. He was afraid to lose the young woman he had no right to care for or desire.
This man, this Bellamy, would destroy her. He would destroy her gentle, beautiful heart before completing whatever torment and mutilation he had planned.
And, as he was, weak and beaten, Law could do nothing to protect her.
He plowed up another shovelful of soil and peered into the hole he had made. It was deep enough now, settled here in the roots of a beautiful crimson-red rose bush. He thrust the spade deeply into the soil to mark the grave and then turned to go back into the house.
Careful not to tread mud on the clean tile, he toed off his shoes and then slipped through the sliding glass door.
Topaz was sitting at the kitchen table with the phone in front of her. Her eyes were glazed with tears, swollen and red-rimmed from crying. Her auburn hair was plastered to her wet cheeks and the fear-induced sweat on the back of her neck. She was shivering, teeth-chattering, brace rattling on the floor from the tremors in her body.
Nervously, Law skirted around her for a moment. Then, he poured a tumbler of water and set it in front of her. He went to the bathroom, got a box of tissues, and returned to the kitchen to set them in front of her. He shifted nervously from foot to foot because she appeared not to even notice that he had placed this array of items before her. He went to the living room, got a blanket, returned to the kitchen, and draped it around her shoulders.
She jolted, practically leaping from her skin in fright.
Law shrank back, quiet, waiting for her response.
She shuddered and then fisted the ends of the blanket in her fingers. She pulled it tightly around herself and murmured, "Trafalgar?"
There was a knock at the door.
Topaz whimpered, but it opened only to reveal Kuronue's worried face and dark silhouette. He walked quickly to the kitchen with such vehement purpose that Law skittered nervously back a few paces. Kuronue pulled back the chair next to Topaz, hooked his boot around the leg of her chair, jerked her seat to face him, and snapped a wad of tissues from the box.
"Topaz-chan," Kuronue said quietly, but fiercely. He mopped the tears none too gently from her face and pushed her wet hair back from her cheeks, tucking the strands behind her ears.
She whimpered and shivered while he did this, fighting him weakly as if she did not recognize who he was.
Finally, Kuronue sighed and pushed back from her.
"Alright, kid," he said to Law. "Show me what he sent her."
Law nodded, led Kuronue through the back door, slipped his feet into his shoes again, and showed the other man the mutilated little creature in the box next to the little grave. Kuronue scooped it up and surveyed the creature. Its head lolled on the broken neck.
"Was it dead when you got it?" Kuronue asked.
Law looked at his feet, shuffling nervously.
"Kid?"
His head snapped up and instantly met Kuronue's piercing crimson eyes. Law saw that the man meant no harm and would not strike him for speaking as another might when addressed by a slave.
"No," Law murmured nervously.
"It was alive?" Kuronue purposefully watched the head lolling about.
Law nodded and whispered, "It was suffering. I," he hesitated, "I broke its neck…"
Kuronue made a sound low in his throat and then said quietly, "Good job, kid. Good job."
Syaoran shivered.
Kuronue laid the body in the small grave and shoveled the dirt over it. Then, he knelt and patted it down with his hands. "So, I take it she told you…?"
Law whispered, "Yes, sir. Miss Topaz even gave me a choice."
"What did you decide?"
Law steadied his gaze. "To stay," he murmured.
"Good," Kurogane said. "I don't know how we're going to handle this. Bellamy is like smoke and trying to catch him is like trying to grab smoke with your bare hands." He shook his head. "The only thing we can do is wait for him to make his next move."
Then, Kuronue looked right into Law's mercurial gray eyes and locked the orbs in a piercing gaze. "Do you know how to handle a weapon?"
Law nodded nervously. "Yes, I was a fight slave before," his shame burned in his throat, "before sex."
Kuronue grunted, unaffected by learning Law was the worst kind of slave. "Alright. What's your preference?"
He hesitated and then said, "Sword."
The other man nodded and stood up from the little grave. "I'll have one to you by the end of the day." Then, he picked up the shovel and started back for the house.
Law heard a crackle of breaking twigs in the woods behind him, whirled to look, saw nothing, and hurried after Kuronue.
…
True to his word, before the end of the day, Kuronue returned to the house with a beautifully crafted sword. It was freshly sharpened and perfectly balanced, a beautiful piece of metal. It was a nodachi, about six and a half feet in length, with a black grip and white fur around the hilt. The sheath was black with white "t" shapes on it. Under Kuronue's watchful eye, Law drew it and gave it a few test swings. They sparred for a moment as Kuronue was armed with his own blade.
"Alright," the man said. "You can hold your own. Be careful and protect the girl."
"Yes sir," Law said and slipped the sword back into its sheath.
Kuronue burned his crimson eyes into the scrawny young man with the battered face. "Know that if she dies, you're going back to where you came from," he snapped.
The light left Law's hopeful happy eyes and Kuronue instantly regretted saying it, but what was done was done. He felt like a real asshole for saying it, but it was true. Topaz's safety was top priority.
Law lowered his eyes to the floor and whispered, "I understand."
Grunting, Kuronue left.
…
Law returned to the kitchen where Topaz was still sitting, staring blankly ahead of her at the wall. He gently touched her shoulder and gave her a timid shake.
She whimpered.
"Miss Topaz?" he whispered.
She slowly lifted her eyes to meet his. Her eyes were dry and red-rimmed with dark circles beneath them. "Law-kun…" she whispered and shifted in her seat as if to reach for him. After a moment, she lowered her arms and stared woefully at her clasped hands in her lap.
He swallowed and then sat quietly in the chair beside her. "I… I buried it," he whispered.
She shuddered, but whispered, "I'm glad."
He saw her hands clench and she dug her fingernails into the flesh around her nails, tearing the skin apart and off.
He hesitated, then laid his palm over her bleeding hands. "Stop," he whispered. "You're hurting yourself."
She shuddered. "Does it matter?"
Law bit his lips, but was unable to speak.
Topaz began to sob. "I'm going to die anyway. Maybe I should just kill myself now so he can't play with me like I'm some kind of mouse!"
His heart clenched in his chest with anguish and fear. Kuronue's words pounded through his head and heart. (If she dies, you're going back to where you came from!) "No," Law whispered and his fingers tightened around Topaz's hand.
She looked up into his face, eyes glossy and sparkly with tears. "What?" she whispered.
His eyes met hers and drilled into her heart. She felt out of breath. His fear and agony was tangible, palpable. His grip was so tight on her injured hand, she almost pulled away. Something stayed her.
"Miss Topaz, no," Law whispered. "Please, no."
Her voice broke with tears. "Why?"
Law tore his eyes from hers and she saw a flash of falling tears from his face. "If you die… if you die… I'll be sent back…"
"Sent back?" she whispered.
His chest jerked with nervous breath and his throat worked furiously. "Back to the place I came from," he whispered. "Back to a… bed… Back to… sex…"
Topaz's chest tightened. She hadn't thought of that, thought of him.
If she died, Trafalgar Law–the tortured beautiful broken nameless molested beaten abused terrified sex slave–would return to claim his haunted heart. She thought of the way he had been: staring at the floor, shivering, unable to speak, wincing and flinching from the faintest touch, without a name…
She couldn't do that to him.
She couldn't force him to become that again.
Topaz gripped his hands in her own and all her own fear melted away. She had to live, had to survive, to protect this beautiful tormented young man.
Law raised his eyes to hers. They were glowing, red-rimmed with painful tears. He was biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.
Topaz smiled and reached to wipe the blood from his mouth with her thumb.
He flinched, whispering, "Please…"
Topaz nodded, but he wasn't looking at her so she whispered, "Yes."
His eyes eased open and hope lit the back of them.
He was so trusting, so hopeful, so hurt and tormented, but so trusting. He trusted her.
She wet her lips. "Yes, for you," she murmured. "For you…"
Law allowed his eyes to slide closed again in bliss. Tears burned below his lids, catching on his long lashes.
"For you…" she said again.
"Thank you," he whispered with true heartbreaking gratitude.
Topaz rested her forehead against his. For a moment, he tensed and trembled, but finally relaxed against her. She heard him inhale deeply, surely smelling the scent of her. His fingertips, cool and soft, touched her knees lightly, hesitantly. She didn't move, allowing him to touch her. Finally, he laid his palms over her hard bony knees and let out his breath.
He smelled good, like soil and wood and sunlight and something that was completely him.
Caught up in their moment, neither of them saw the thing in the window and discover it until later that night…
X X X
Questions, comments, concerns?