Naghi-Tan: It's definitely a mood killer D: Sanji knows he messed up and has to learn the hard way of the consequences. But it'll be a fun thing to explore here :D

HS: I imagined him with binoculars from the living room XD A definite mess indeed!

Fyoyaran: Brook has made his way into people's hearts – his impact is enough to melt some ice around guarded hearts! He's not the hapless dog in the background, though – he's going to do his best to fix his family (ahhhh even writing that makes me cringe inside) As this is a LawSan, it's going to take some time ;)

: : 5

Law was quite aware that his story didn't match the seemingly traditional line of eating disorder sufferers. The group sessions he attended were often full of stories from victims that chose their vice because of some horrible trauma – his was only because he didn't want to be a nuisance. A bad habit that grew out of control and stayed in control over him. So sometimes he felt it held him back because if someone didn't think it was "that big of a deal", he felt too self-conscious to reach out for help because it wasn't "that big of a deal."

Previous sessions at the clinic he was registered in had given him group therapy sessions and nutritionist visits, where someone visited his home and went through his cupboards and fridge to come up with menu plans that never seemed to stick. His last hospital visit was years ago – he had been on the path to recovery and actually gained twenty pounds when an inadvertent comment from a romance potential had him sliding back into his "comfort zone". From there Law felt there was no point in getting better. He was a grown adult man – shouldn't he have his shit together already?

But he was tired of this life.

He knew he needed help.

But he was sick and tired of being treated like his reasons for his disorder wasn't important. He was sick and tired of sitting at a counter or table, eating the same things over and over again all at the same time, arguing with himself over what he was doing. It was mentally and spiritually exhausting.

His last roommate had encouraged him to have a shot or two before eating.

"You'd forget all about that shit and body would say, 'Hey I'm hungry' and you'd eat and all is well. End of the story here, you deformed bird of a man," he said, cramming pizza into his mouth and slamming that down with beer. Law often had a hard time understanding what the man was saying through his thick Scottish accent, sometimes, so mostly he'd nodded and said something appropriate. This method often earned him blank looks and snappish attitude because Law came off as rude.

So Law tried his suggested method. It backfired and he nearly became an alcoholic instead. Which was why he had various bottles underneath his bed. It didn't occur to him to throw them out. When Sanji found them it was almost a blessing to have it all finally removed from his reach.

Now with his newest roommate, the struggle became worse because he was starting to notice differences – the soups Sanji angrily cooked were nothing like the canned soups Law had stocked in his cupboards. The salads had more content than the usual bags he tossed and ate out of once a week. The meat he added had bits and pieces of seasoning that made Law reflect and consider with each bite.

It was unrealistic to think that this soon to be divorced cook could suddenly cure his years old disorder, but the frightening thing about it was that it made Law more aware of how tired he was.

One could not just eat just because they were told they should.

Days after their agreement, while Law ran a dish cloth over the same spot on a used frying pan, he watched as Sanji diced vegetables and swept them with angry swipes to the side. He had stock bubbling behind him so when he finished searing pieces of thinly cut beef he dumped the meat into the pot for ten minutes before adding the vegetables. Law was sure he could do the same, eyebrow lifting quizzically as Sanji then flung the contents of various shakers into the pot.

He wondered if being angry helped the food taste better.

When Law tried to recreate the dish himself while Sanji was at work, it didn't turn out the same. The vegetables were too crunchy and the meat chewy so he stood at the stove with a thoughtful expression, tasting each individual piece with all the judgement of a man assessing his future. By the time he finished adjusting his directions, he'd finished the stew and felt uncomfortably full. This was a dangerous moment for him – his body did not like the sensation because his mind brought back old memories of Rocinante telling him he was chubby and the battle to visit the bathroom for quick and guilty relief added to the heavy feelings of failure and mistake.

This was the hard part of a meal – accepting it. Panic tore through him because he was over his numbers but a general repetition of assuring himself mildly interrupted that hot flash. He would lose his job if he continued to look as he did – he was warned by his supervisor that the board had noticed his condition and were "worried". Lawsuits were visible in their horizons if his health should cause a failure upon a patient that depended on Law's steady hands.

This was necessary.

This was important.

Like Sanji, he'd have nowhere to go if he lost his job and his apartment.

He sat uncomfortably at the couch, pulling the blanket tightly around him. If he could anchor and distract himself, his stomach would stop crying and his mind would eventually assure itself that everything was fine. His face and neck felt moist with a nervous sweat, his midsection gurgling noisily as food was processed. Within the empty apartment, with only the television running, Law felt incredibly lonely.

"I upgraded today!" Sanji announced victoriously as he marched through the front door, kicking it shut behind him. It made Law's insides jump because he hadn't even heard the key jingling into the lock. "That old cretin paying me a dollar more for prep work – I will make my share of rent this month. I've calculated at least two months before those fuckers find me telling them what to do."

Law was self-conscious of himself at that moment – he was at his most vulnerable. He didn't say anything, arm around his gurgling middle as he concentrated on the television set. Sanji didn't seem to expect an answer because he headed right for his room without waiting for one. He emerged minutes later to take a quick shower and was in the kitchen before Law could process that he was.

"How did this come out?" Sanji asked, looking at the empty pot before throwing everything into the sink, cleaning rapidly.

Law didn't feel like talking – all his effort was in his throat. But the thought of losing this small battle and his livelihood was surprisingly strong.

"Could've been better," he admitted thickly.

"If it makes you sick, don't eat it!"

It was too complicated to explain the situation, so Law didn't try. Sanji abandoned the kitchen altogether and sat at the couch with a gusty sigh, head against the cushions. After some moments his head lifted and he looked at Law with curiosity. Law was pretty self-conscious about his gurgling stomach, unable to hide the sounds.

"It's like one of those kids' playsets, you know where you drop a ball at the top of the slide and it hits everything on the way down?" Sanji then snickered.

"Don't you have anything else to do?" Law grumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"What'd I miss?" Sanji asked, picking up the remote to turn it up. Law wasn't sure if he wanted conversation or a distraction.

But he answered slowly.

By the end of the show, Law felt a little better physically but now he was trying to deal with the feelings of guilt and regret afterward. It left him in a dark mood. Where he was feeling lonely earlier, he now felt in need of some isolation to deal with these tiresome things.

"So, what is 'The Golden Child'?" Sanji asked curiously. "I couldn't stop thinking about the oatmeal thing long after that."

Law's vision was a little blurry, so he rubbed on his eyes before answering, "It's this eighties movie. It's totally ridiculous, but it's classic Eddie Murphy."

"Who is that?"

"'Coming to America'? No? 'Beverly Hills Cop'? Wow. You uncultured swine."

"Admittedly, I don't watch movies very much," Sanji said, scowling.

"Mulan at least?"

"Oh yeah! Yeah, that was a good one…"

"He's the voice of the little dragon."

Sanji looked puzzled. "This guy made actual movies?"

Law sighed impatiently, Netflix up. "Prepare yourself."

While it was loading, Law sneaked a glance in Sanji's direction. The younger man still looked like shit but he wasn't alcohol swollen or moments from collapsing. Law remembered Sanji locking himself in his room for a few days, but noticed when he was looking for socks that the crumpled pieces of paper that had been laying around the bed were no longer there. Law assumed Sanji had filled out a response and that was the reason behind the despondence.

It seemed he'd slipped into a resignation stage – like a man that had reluctantly accepted his fate when there was nothing more to do. In a way, Law felt he identified with that.

He didn't know what to say to encourage him or make him feel any better – he recognized now that they had slipped past that stage of deliberate ignorance to fetter with the delicate recognizance of each other's troubles, so that earned them each a sort of step up on each other's personal blocks.

It wasn't his business to pry and rally, but it was now his business to know that Sanji was getting a divorce and it was Sanji's business to know that Law was going to lose his job if he didn't try.

Sanji was squinting at the television screen. Law wondered why Sanji insisted on not being associated with one of the most well-known families in the city. Now that he looked at him, Law could see that he had similar features to those snotty men that sometimes came through the hospital, checking to see what their father's donation funds were doing. He was curious to know why Sanji preferred struggling compared to their obvious well-off lifestyle.

Sanji looked at him sharply, catching Law in the act of thinking these things while looking at him.

"What are you looking at?" he snapped while Law flushed with mortification.

"Why don't you just siphon off mommy and daddy's funds?" Law ended up asking, words tumbling over each other because of his fluster.

"You know those guys?" Sanji asked instead, furrowing his brow. "How? Are you a spy?"

"Sometimes they come by the hospital on…business. It just occurred to me you look exactly like them."

Sanji frowned at him, lips pulling tight. "If something ever happens to me," he said slowly, "make sure I get taken to the one across town. NOT this one."

"Jurisdictions don't work that way, and we're in the middle of this one…"

"Then drag me into that jurisdiction! I mean it! Enough about mine, why don't I hear you talking about yours?" Sanji asked.

Law shrugged.

"Never mind, I'll just look at that photo album in your closet and come to my own conclusions," Sanji decided lightly, propping his head onto his palm.

"My family died in a car accident," Law said slowly, hoping that when Sanji did follow through with his threat, he wouldn't think differently of Law if he happened across a shoebox with the lid taped shut. "I was raised by someone else."

"Where is he?"

"He had some weird falling out with his brother and just…left me here. Years ago."

"You guys were living here together?"

"Yeah."

Sanji looked at him like it all made sense. "Is that why…?"

"No. It wasn't something terrible, it just…turned into something I could no longer control."

"Oh."

Law gave a shrug. "Don't sound disappointed."

"I'm not," Sanji said assuredly. He then looked worried. "Do you think he'll come back?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I find out he's paid my rent or utilities, sometimes he sends care packages, but I don't know where he's sending them from. Or what he's doing. I suspect he's hiding out somewhere for whatever reason..."

Sanji looked uncomfortable.

"In the end," Law finished, "I don't care."

"Well…I guess it explains some things," Sanji mumbled, picking at his knees. "I guess you would have to be…numb…to accept all those things that happened."

"I'm not 'numb'," Law said. "There's really nothing I can do about it."

"But if that man cared enough – "

"See, those are the words that piss me off the most," Law interrupted with a cut of his hand, "that man cared for me. He didn't have to take me in, he was struggling himself, but he gave me a good home, he paid for much of my education, he took care of me. He did everything in his power to do so. This shit today isn't his fault, and I don't blame him for any of it. He didn't make me do this, I did this to my fucking self. Of course he fucking cares, but how can he do shit if I can't do shit for myself?"

Sanji wore a taken-back expression, hands up with surrender.

"That's like saying your family doesn't give a shit – "

"They don't," Sanji interrupted just as firmly.

"I get that, but I'm just saying – if they cared any - !"

"They don't care at all!"

Law exhaled tightly as their movie continued to load. He was already feeling sensitive and irritated enough, but having this conversation was making him feel regret for delving into it in the first place.

"You're right," Sanji surprised him by saying. "I said the wrong thing. I just…I can't imagine that someone who cares for another would just…disappear without saying anything. That's the part I don't get. If he's around, why is he hiding?"

"I don't know," Law admitted shortly. "I don't think about it. Like I said, it was a weird fight."

"Maybe he was murdered?"

"I just said he pays for things from time to time. The owners let me know."

"Who are the owners?"

"I don't know…some guy named Bege. Real Godfather looking type. His wife's nice, though. You don't ever see them, so sometimes I wonder if there's anybody living here at all."

Sanji looked at him with such a stricken expression that Law assumed Sanji had just realized the same thing. Law shrugged.

Sanji stared at him for a bit, then exhaled uneasily. "Wow. What a weird situation."

Before Law could say anything in response, Sanji said, "What does it mean exactly of your supervisors' request?"

"I think that's my own business – "

"Because it doesn't seem like you have the attitude to want to abide by their request."

Law scratched at an eyebrow while he thought about this. "I don't think anyone would understand my circumstances when I attempt to explain it."

"And you don't want outpatient services…why?"

"I don't think – "

"I only think that it's important for me to know details because…" Sanji trailed off, his expression heavy. But he managed to say, "I'm going to be here awhile. So…I'd…like to help in any way I can."

Law studied his expression. "You sent your papers back?"

It was difficult for Sanji to talk about it. But he figured since Law shared some of his personal information, it'd be fine if he did as well.

"I did. So…"

"Don't you have friends to play with?"

"No, you ass. They…sided with him."

"What the hell did you do?"

"I…cheated. Like…five times."

Law looked at him skeptically. "And you think that's something easily forgiven?"

"To use words out of your book…I don't think anyone would understand my circumstances when I attempt to explain it."

Law could understand that.

"If I could turn back time," Sanji said with a low sigh, sinking lower into the cushions. "So many things told me to wait…and yet I was the one to fuck it all up in the end."

"Well…it's easy thinking you can change the world when you're young. When you're my age, all of that gets too exhausting."

"You ever been married?"

"No. They were only in the way."

Sanji looked at him, seeing the regret and remorse plain on the other man's voice. A part of him felt like Law had wanted these things, too, but it was obvious what was more important.

"That sucks," he said.

"I don't think of it that way," Law said.

In the end, Sanji did like the movie. He ended up laughing at various parts but had to recoil at the oatmeal scene. He didn't feel too well after that, so he left before the movie ended.

Law thought about that conversation a lot. He found it difficult talking to most people that weren't being paid to delve into his personal circumstances upon his request, but it had been surprisingly easy to talk to Sanji. He carried the conversation with a strange sort of maturity that was unexpected for his age. He didn't take took much offense at Law's rudeness, returning it just to continue a conversation – to Law it felt like Sanji took cues from his body language and manner of speaking as a way to negotiate through his stubborn word-blocks, so he realized that this people-person was going to be hard to hide anything from.

Much like the way Sanji went through his room.

But he tended to respect Law's boundaries. Law was used to being looked at like he was some kind of circus freak, addressed softly and gently; so not having that directed towards him from Sanji made him feel a little more comfortable.

It was an odd sensation to feel.

He wasn't sure how to process it.

An emergency call had him in the hospital early the next day. After that was complete, he and Penguin headed outside for a brisk walk; both of them were tense and tired, holding a cup of coffee in one hand while bundled against the cold. The sky had allowed some sunlight and blue through, so the city seemed brighter. Piles of dirty snow had been plowed off through parts of the sidewalk, which were a little busier than usual.

He'd just told Penguin the gossip.

"A divorce," Penguin mused, testing the word for himself. "He's just a kid. Cheating on a partner five times sounds about right, nowadays. They can't seem to control themselves like us oldies."

"I think he's older than what we suspect."

"Don't you read the contracts after they complete them?"

"Nah."

"Which is why that Scottish guy turned out to be younger than you thought."

"Yeah, still blows my mind."

"I wonder what happened to that guy…?"

"I've decided not to see the outpatient services," Law said slowly, causing Penguin some distress. "Because the way it's going now…I think I can do this on my own."

"You can't – " Penguin trailed off with a hard sigh. Law knew he was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

"It's different this time," he assured the older man. "Because he can cook."

"And you're comfortable with relying on him?"

"I'm not comfortable with it…but I feel like I can depend on it."

"I don't think that's a good idea, man."

"I'm learning a great deal of how to do it on my own. We'd come to an agreement."

"So what are you doing for him? Like, someone's giving you a service, so you have to understand that there's something in it for him later."

Law shrugged. "He never said anything."

"I don't trust that guy. He was married to another kid and cheated on him five times. Which means he's capable of cheating anybody."

"There's that…"

"So while you're relying on him for help that he offers without any returns, don't you think it's a little suspicious?"

"You think so?"

Penguin sighed again. "Law, it's time you focused on these types of things. He's not someone any of us really know – he's literally a stranger from the streets. A Vinsmoke, even!"

"He's estranged."

"Still. I think you should be a little more careful with what you have laying around, and what you should trust about him. You don't know, what if he's steadily poisoning you?"

"I hope so. But none of us had any idea that my last roommate was an arms dealer the FBI wanted to pick up."

"Right, right…"

"I think he's more focused on returning to his home than looking forward to forge a new future on his own," Law said slowly as they rounded the block. "He doesn't talk about these things – he switches the subject or turns it back to me, and that's his defense mechanism."

"So…he's like you?"

"I just feel like if he had the chance, he'd return home the minute it was offered."

"It'd probably be for the best. I don't trust that guy. I think it's more important of you to focus on yourself. Don't dismiss the outpatient thing – I think you should seriously look into it and absolutely give it another try. The higher-ups want to see progress for themselves, and everyone's…taking notice of you. I feel like their lawyers are anxiously waiting for any word of a legal case to be dropped on their desks."

"That's just rude."

"I think this is your year, Law. It's absolutely your year to get hold of this thing. I know you're tired," Penguin pressed on him, as Law looked annoyed, "I know you don't want to do this anymore, so I think it's important for you to really consider that you push against your comfort zone to explore things that make you uncomfortable. It's been too long."

"I've heard this a million times, Penguin."

"You're going to hear it a lot more if you persist on being stubborn! Why are you being so stubborn?"

Law looked away with exasperation, coffee cup to his lips. He saw the veterinary hospital ahead of him, and the thought of Brook hit his thoughts hard. He had to admit to himself that he missed the dog. He'd gotten used to hearing his heavy breathing and heavy body pressing against his leg when Brook laid against the couch. He missed hearing his toenails click on the floorboards when he left Sanji's room to find him. He wondered if this ex-person was doing a good job of caring for him –

It occurred to him that he was seeing the actual dog of his thoughts dragging a leash behind him down one sidewalk, breathing heavily.

"Oh my fucking god, speaking of the devil," he murmured, dropping his coffee cup with surprise. Penguin turned to look, puzzled, expecting to see either the arms dealer or Sanji himself.

The dog hurried past waiting pedestrians at the light and out into traffic, much to Law's horror. He ended up hurrying out into the street as a car slammed on its brakes, screeching and sliding just slightly to avoid hitting him. Penguin shouted out with horror, but Law just wanted to get to Brook before he could run or get hit by another vehicle. He snatched up the leash, Brook startled at his appearance. The dog attempted to bolt as another car skid to a stop away from them, the driver laying on his horn. Brook howled with terror as Law scooped him up, turning to head back to the sidewalk.

It surprised and delighted him that the dog remembered him. Brook wiggled and whined, lapping at his face with his warm tongue. Law could feel his body heaving with effort and breath as the dog's heart raced, droopy eyes wild with some excitement.

"Are you stupid?" Penguin shouted at him as the cars attempted to straightened out, causing a slight commotion as tires skidded uselessly over slush and ice. "You could've been killed!"

"This is Brook," Law said, surprised at how heavy the dog actually was. It occurred to him that perhaps the dog wasn't heavy at all. Brook was missing his slippers, feet shaking. Law adjusted the animal awkwardly in his arms, trying not to show all those watching that he was incapable of actually holding him. "Oh, he's freezing – he's been outside for some time."

"You know this dog?" Penguin asked incredulously as Brook turned his big head away from his voice, attempting to bury his face into Law's scarf.

"This is Sanji's dog."

Brook immediately perked up at the sound of Sanji's name. His tail stub wagged fiercely as he searched for his other master.

"What is Sanji's dog doing out in the streets?"

Law didn't know. He glanced around, looking for anyone that looked as if they were searching for the heavily panting animal. It was taking everything he had just to hold the animal against him, his arms growing shaky and his face reddening with effort. But he refused to put him down.

"I'll just have to take him home," he decided, Penguin looking at him incredulously.

"Take him back to the vet! He obviously came from there!"

"Ah, but finders keepers, Penguin."

"That makes no sense! This is stealing!" Penguin fretted, following after his friend as he carried him determinedly back to the hospital. The dog looked satisfied, mouth open as he rested against Law's shoulder. "Take him back over there and inform them of – "

"I would, but…I am unaware of the circumstances in his freedom. So it makes more sense that I should return him to his owner. After all, perhaps he misses him."

"This is not a good idea, he was there for a reason!"

Penguin's words made plenty of sense – but Law thought that it made more sense that if Brook was lost and had found his way into his arms, then it meant something. Brook was obviously looking for his owner, and had found him. Law had to reward the dog with his efforts by taking him to Sanji. Sanji would have to figure out the medication situation on his own.

Sure enough, the dog surprised the man with a happy greeting and an awkward run as Sanji returned home. Sanji dropped to his knees with an incredulous shout, both of them howling in excitement. Law thought that it was kinda cute.

"How is this happening?" Sanji asked breathlessly, hauling Brook up into his arms and striding towards Law. "How is he here?"

"I found him," Law responded. "Just walking in the streets."

Sanji's expression turned murderous. Law waited for the millions of questions he was sure to be hit with and cringed a little. But all Sanji said was, "So he's without his medication?"

"Pretty much. He was very cold."

Sanji paced with Brook in his arms for some moments, obviously seething. He set the dog back down onto the living room floor. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"Never mind that. I'll be back."

Sanji was gone as Brook and Law looked at the slamming door with confusion. Law sipped at his tea, looking at the bewildered dog. Brook looked back up at him, brow lifting with question. Once he realized Sanji wasn't coming back anytime soon, the dog slowly waddled over to Law and settled at his feet. He rested against the couch with a hard sigh.

Hours later, Sanji stormed into the apartment with a plastic bag. Brook immediately waddled over to him while Law sleepily rubbed at his eyes, having fallen asleep to the steady snore of Brook's breathing and the show that was playing on low volume.

"We made an agreement," Sanji said, jerking out one of the bottles and finding the right combination for the dog to take. He crouched down to administer them, Brook fighting him but also trying to knock him over with affection. "I'll take him for a week, he'll take him for the next."

"That's great."

"Brook was there because he was still sick," Sanji muttered, rewarding the animal with affectionate rubbing alongside his face. Brook looked truly happy as he lifted his head for more, whining noisily. "But he'd escaped after that fucking idiot left. Somehow. How did you do it, you damn mutt? You figured out the doors? How are you so smart with such a pea-sized brain?"

Brook shook his back eagerly, breathing growing troubled with some answering affection. He barked a few times, as if proud of his own efforts. Sanji couldn't retain a stern expression after seeing this, headbutting him with some answering affection of his own.

"Dumb dog, you're such a dumb dog but you're so smart! How are you so smart? You're so short! You can't reach the door handles, you crazy mutt! What's wrong with you?"

Law wondered if the animal understood the insults in the endearments administered. Brook was pretty happy, but it was obvious he still had some sort of a cough, his breathing bubbling with his exhales. Sanji rose away from him to examine the medication in the bag, along with some nearly tattered papers.

"'Stress'," Sanji sounded out with some disbelief. "Brook is stressed."

"Aren't we all?" Law muttered, wondering how people could appoint human events to an animal. "So I take it he took the loss well?"

"He didn't. He wasn't aware that Brook was missing in the first place. Tried to accuse me of taking him. But that got sorted out real quick. Because Brook is…stressed…he agreed to visitation."

Law studied his mug. "Is that a positive thing?"

"No," Sanji said with a sigh, crouching to pick up Brook, swinging him into the air. The dog's legs wiggled ferociously as he barked sharply. Sanji 'flew' him about like an airplane, complete with noises. Law thought it was one of the most childish things he'd ever seen a grown man do. But the dog clearly enjoyed himself, kicking and panting noisily like he was trying to laugh. "He still hates my guts."

Law had to wonder why that answer gave him a feeling of satisfaction. It was such a strange feeling.