A/N: Due to circumstances (yet another wildfire – 'Old Souls' was actually influenced by one last year!), I might be updating less this week (hopefully only this week!). I managed to fit this chapter in amidst the bustle of RL!
Naghi-tan, Snowflake97, Harmonica Smile and WulfyFang3 – thank you so much for your thoughts and feelings on the last chapter. I enjoyed reading your responses because it makes me think that I'm succeeding with detailing how both of them are struggling with their own different things, what impact their situations has on them, how it's not an immediate romance (it'll def be a LawSan tho!) – it makes me feel good, as a writer, that I'm able to make you all *feel stuff. I appreciate the time you spent telling me T_T Thank you!
: : 10
The days swept by with confusing images and a numb sense of reality. Law noticed that Sanji steadily began to grow quieter. He often sat on the couch without saying anything or shifting expression. Every time he spoke it seemed to require effort. Eventually, the food packed in the cupboards and fridge began to dwindle and rot. Law realized he was picking up cans of soup from the nearby food mart and reverting back to his own meal plan as fresh food options began to lessen. It startled him how dependent he'd grown on Sanji in the length of time they'd lived together, and that was upsetting because he'd only relied on himself.
Law looked at this as one of his first challenges – it was easy to fall back on something he was comfortable with, so he realized that this was something he had to stand strong on. Once he was able to catch himself after seeing this obstacle, he felt like he was on an unsteady ledge, which felt like it would give at any second.
He determinedly added more content to his meals – a dash here, a pinch there, extra bites, dairy products. But his mind kept telling him that it wasn't worth the effort because he was eventually going to run out of more options. The little stubborn voice in his head that spoke up from the back whispered that he wasn't making much of an effort; that even an extra egg wasn't an improvement; that dash of milk wasn't enough to help with anything; the notch on his belt was too tight. He was aware that he was battling himself so it made sense to focus entirely on himself.
He reappeared at the outpatient services desk with Penguin at his side.
But even that was discouraging. His file was plucked out from a nearby filing cabinet, clearly waiting for him. But he there were no updates in his progress, and he was introduced to a counselor he already knew by face; the nutritionist greeted him cheerily but had the same information at hand as she had the last time; it was as if they all had paused upon his leave to resume upon his return. He was inches similar to his last check-in – despite his efforts these past couple of weeks, he hadn't shown any physical signs of improvement. That struggle had felt like it was a waste, a breathless battle that had him stumbling backwards, ready to fall.
It all felt like a setup designed to help him fail. He wanted away from this disorder but it kept clinging to his ankles, pulling at his hair and hands. Shouting at him that he wasn't worth the effort to recover because he had done this before and he'd failed it numerous times before.
Eventually, he realized he wasn't making any improvements and life hadn't magically changed since he started. Eventually, he stopped eating that extra egg. He stopped taking extra bites. He stopped buying creamer for his coffee. He used work as an excuse to miss appointments. Feelings of failure began to weigh in on his determination and the will to give it up became stronger.
Eventually he was standing at the kitchen counter, watching a pot of soup turn cold and wilt as he lost track of time due to numbing uncertainty and doubt racing through him. Where was his strength and earlier will? He lost his appetite to nothing at all, unsettled by the suffocating feelings of having no success in regaining his footing. What had motivated him to get better was steadily being crushed by his comfortable feelings of failure.
Why was it so difficult to recover? What was so damn hard about it that he couldn't seem to find the strength to pull himself over the ledge when he was so tired of dangling from it? It was frustrating sitting at a table, staring at his food – feeling his stomach tighten and grumble noisily, knowing all he had to do was put his full spoon in his mouth and being unable to do that because the voices were so loud in his head. It was frustrating seeing the looks on his friends' faces; it was frustrating seeing his hands began to tremble; it was frustrating laying in his bed, feeling every ache and pain in his bones and joints. His vision was starting to deteriorate – growing blurry and dangerously sensitive to light.
He often sat down on the couch and wished he could travel back through time to talk to his teenage self – give himself tough encouragement and advice.
People could tell him to "just eat!", but his mind and body cried out for understanding. One couldn't "just eat!" when they'd spent most of their lives battling just that. Those standing on the outside couldn't understand how upsetting it was to eat normal food because it physically caused discomfort once settled, and that his mind, so conditioned to think on various tracks, could not be coaxed to one track. It was frustrating looking around and seeing everyone with their mouths open to eat; it was frustrating not having that freedom to just eat. It was frustrating not being normal because he'd brought himself to this point with his own decision. He was his own enemy, his own obstacle.
Eventually, Law realized that he hadn't heard Sanji talk in days.
Both of them sat on the couch one night, watching a documentary on Disney workers. Bepo was clinging to his shirt, and Law realized he hadn't paid much attention to him. The spotted gecko watched him with seeming concern, head tilted this way and that. Law wondered when he'd last placed him on his neck, so he shifted the lizard from the front of his sweater to the back of his neck. Bepo wandered back down to his sweater.
Law ended up checking his pulse. It was dangerously low, his skin cold despite the layers he wore, the blanket he sat under. He had to wonder why he wasn't dead, yet.
Law looked to Sanji, seeing the blond watching the television set with a blank expression. He was still wearing his work uniform, apron tied around his waist. It occurred to Law that he did not remember seeing the man in other clothes. He blinked a few times, trying to recall their last conversation.
He said slowly, "Will you eat?"
Sanji looked at him, as if surprised to hear his voice. He then furrowed his brow with consideration.
"Ah, no thanks," he said listlessly. "I'm not hungry."
"Well, did you?"
"Around lunch time, I suppose."
Law considered this with a frown. Sanji had greasy, stringy hair that seemed to cling to his face and neck like panels of yellow. His facial hair peppered his jawline and upper lip like fast growing wheat stalks. His eyes were colored purple underneath – he had seemingly new lines around his mouth, like accusing parentheses. Law winced. He wondered what he himself looked like.
"You look like shit," he said with observation. "You look like you probably smell like it, too."
Sanji looked over at him with surprise. But instead of reacting with any type of anger, he said, "Yeah…yeah, I probably do. I honestly don't remember taking a shower, today."
Law's face reacted with distaste as Sanji sniffed himself. Sanji lowered his arm to his lap with a shrug.
"I don't care," he muttered. "Washing dishes doesn't require much of an appearance anyway."
"I thought you had plans to take over that restaurant…?"
Sanji shrugged again. His face was breaking out where his hair clung to his skin. He then looked at Law with some curiosity. "So…how did that appointment go?"
"What appointment?"
"The…she was supposed to come here and look at the cupboards, or something?"
Law frowned. "That was over a month ago, Sanji."
"Oh. Shit….felt like it was yesterday." Sanji looked startled at this, picking at too long nails before asking, "Well, how's it going? With your…appointments?"
"I…I stopped going. They weren't very helpful."
Sanji looked at him with a start, eyes cruising over Law's guilty expression as the older man turned away.
"Oh," was all he said, with no emotion behind it.
Both of them continued watching the documentary in silence. Hours passed, and Law snapped awake after falling asleep. He thought he'd heard Sanji say something, so he lifted his head from the cushion to look at him. Then he looked down at himself, but Bepo was nowhere to be seen. He carefully unwrapped himself, searching for all the places a spotted gecko could be found.
Then he looked to Sanji again, seeing him pick at his nails.
"What?" he repeated after some moments.
"I said…both of us have given up," Sanji repeated slowly. "I'm sorry. I hadn't realized that you were in this condition."
Law frowned at him. "Am I a child to be taken care of? As I've been an adult for far longer than you, my responsibilities are not up to anyone else."
Sanji exhaled low. "I know, but…I'm so used to noticing what everyone else needs that – "
"That's not your responsibility. It's theirs. Mine is mine. Take care of yourself."
Sanji's eyes closed heavily before opening with a struggle. "That's hard to do. I don't know how."
Law thought that was a powerful admission to give. It occurred to him that Sanji did not – he had been so focused on his ex-husband's well-being that when he thought to take care of his own, the effort had blown up in his face. It also occurred to him that he was in a similar position – so focused on saving other people's lives that he found saving his own was a struggle.
He searched inside of himself for any kind of response to give.
"You can start by taking a shower," he suggested slowly.
Sanji snorted.
"Take baby steps," Law continued. "Until you're back on your feet."
"What about you? What's the deal with you? Don't you want to get better?"
Law didn't know how to answer that. He didn't want to. It was too complicated sharing his thoughts and feelings on something another person just didn't understand.
Sanji looked at him when he realized Law wasn't answering. His eyes looked as lifeless as Law's had when he'd seen himself in the mirror. When he realized he wasn't going to get an answer, he resumed picking at his nails.
Law continued searching for Bepo, but he couldn't find him.
Nearly a week later, he wound up fainting at the hospital during a consultation. The board demanded that he take leave to "take care of himself". If he brought back a suitable doctor's notice that he was fit to continue his duties, he'd retain his job.
Quit honestly, it was the lowest point Law could hit. He'd always managed to slip by on promises that turned out to be empty, but this was a fatal blow to his finances. Being forced to "take care of himself" wasn't something pretty on paper. He ended up sitting outside the hospital with his overnight bag stuffed with things from his locker, waiting for Penguin and Shachi to finish up their duties. Outside the hospital, people were in too big of a hurry to notice him. The cold had eased up, but he still sat outside on the smoking bench fifty feet from the Emergency Room entrance with a thick jacket, hat and scarf, gloves anchored tightly to his hands. Down the block, he could see the gas station that he and the others visited a lot – it occurred to him that he had not seen Zoro or Brook in ages.
He watched traffic pass by, his mind numb with his thoughts and feelings. It took him several moments to realize someone was staring right at him, and he shifted dry eyes from the street to the right.
It was Luffy standing there, holding full bags within both hands. He looked quite victorious once he recognized that it was Law. So he approached determinedly.
"You strike me," Law warned sluggishly, "and you'll be charged with murder. Because I will most likely die."
Luffy scowled at him as he sat at the other end of the bench with a huff. "I wasn't thinking of hitting you. I was just remembering how mad I was at you for kicking me and now realizing I wasn't really mad at all."
After rummaging through his bags to retrieve a packet of jerky, he ripped that open. Law found it hard to focus on the younger man because his mind was so enveloped on his sense of failure and lack of self-worth. His frame made it uncomfortable to sit on the bench. Everything hurt.
After cramming half of the package into his mouth, Luffy glared out at the traffic and chewed. It was an obnoxious sound that eventually drew Law out of his fog to glare sideways at him.
"Where's Sanji?" Luffy asked once he was able.
"I honestly don't know," Law answered vaguely, thinking of Sanji's mood.
Luffy frowned. "He move?"
"To La-La Land."
Luffy pulled out his cellphone, drawing up his Maps app. "Is that local?"
Law pulled his lips tight. "Why?"
"Because! I want to talk to him."
"Isn't that for him to decide?"
Luffy sighed noisily, lowering his phone. "I don't know where he is, he's not answering his phone."
It occurred to Law that he did not remember seeing Sanji with it at all. Neither of them communicated unless they were at home, and that night was the first time they had in a very long time. Both of them too enveloped within their own problems to notice what the other was doing. Strange for two men that lived together. He wondered if this is what a relationship felt like.
Luffy looked at him, holding out a piece of jerky with an expression of concern. The piece of dried meat did not appeal to him in any measure – it would be too uncomfortable chewing on something so hard. Law shook his head slowly, careful not to cause himself any dizziness. Luffy continued staring at him.
"Why are you like this?" he asked curiously. "You're a doctor, so why aren't you more doctor-like?"
"Can you imagine how many times I've asked myself that same question?"
"I can't. Because…" Luffy trailed off, face falling heavily. "Sanji isn't with you anymore, is it? Because I can't see him letting anyone starve – "
"His life isn't for me to make any comments on," Law replied.
"So he's not there? Where does he work?"
"Why would he want to talk to you after the things you said and the things you've done?"
Luffy sighed noisily, turning his pained expression to the street. "I want to apologize. I thought a lot about stuff, and…I realized that I hadn't heard Zoro say anything nice to him for a long time. Before, when they started out, he'd say a lot of things that were kinda nice, but…not lately. Not…so I think that what he did, he was just looking for someone that appreciated things. Not that Zoro didn't, but…he never said that he did. Or showed it."
"He's doing a lot better," Luffy then said in an assuring tone to Law, who started to tune him out because none of this was anything important to him. These were all things Luffy should be saying to Sanji – it wasn't up to Law to tell Luffy about Sanji. "He stopped drinking so much and started working out again."
"I really don't care…"
"But you can tell Brook is so sad," Luffy added, rummaging for a package of cupcakes. "Because he waits at the door and stares out the window, and he doesn't smile anymore. That ugly thing, I feel sorry for him. But Zoro doesn't want to share him with Sanji anymore. He takes him on more walks, but Brook's always looking for him."
Law felt vindictive because that dog displayed so much joy at the sight of his other owner, and it was really the only time Sanji showed any joy right back. Why was it so difficult to share a living being just because the parents couldn't stand each other? He imagined that this was why people killed each other after a divorce.
"We seen you in the gas station and there's that hospital thing," Luffy gestured in the direction of the veterinary hospital, "so I thought if I come down here to see you, I could somehow get in touch with Sanji."
"You made your decision," Law said slowly, thinking about that courtroom scene with some dread, "you chose to take a side. There are no take-backsies."
Luffy looked at him with a trembling frown. "We were going through so much! All of us were shocked - !"
"Then it's up to him to want to reach out, yes? The first moment of trouble, and you turned your back to treat the one hurt the most. Things like that cause…scars, if not treated properly."
Luffy's eyes widened and watered.
"I know that, now!" he snapped. "So I just want to say I'm sorry!"
"The bleeding hasn't stopped. The wound had gotten infected," Law said slowly, thinking of Sanji's appearance. "I'm sure when he's ready to get himself treated, he'll do what's necessary to get better. Your hands are dirty – you don't know how to sanitize properly. You'll just make the wound worse."
Luffy looked puzzled. He was aware Law was giving him advice, but he wasn't sure how to take it. Law rose from the bench slowly, giving his body time to adjust to the pressure. His head swam and that buzzing sound returned. He had to concentrate on not fainting as sounds merged into a blur. Luffy grabbed his arm with some concern – Law yanked his arm away once he was able to steady himself.
Looking a little out of place, Luffy's lips traveled to one side of his mouth. He kept looking up at the older man, as if debating within himself to continue pursuing this direction or move on to another option.
He exhaled heavily as Law looked for Penguin and Shachi, picking up his bag with trouble.
"I can't imagine Sanji letting you do this to yourself," he finally determined. "So I feel that he's not living with you, anymore. I don't know who the guys were that…that he…was messing with, so…I don't know where to go from here. I don't know how to find him. My friends – our friends – we just…want to see him again."
Law scowled at him, Luffy looking at him with a determined frown. "You are so stupid."
"No, who's the stupid one here?" Luffy gestured at him. He looked disgusted while Law shifted his expression to that of a blank one. "Who does this to himself? Who does this? Why do you hate yourself so much?"
"Children will not understand until they're standing in the same shoes as an adult."
"I'd never imagine willingly starving myself for attention!"
Before Law could say anything, something came to Luffy at that moment. His eyes widened and Law could see the lightbulb going off over his head. He watched as Luffy looked down at his bags, then stuffed them both into the nearby trash can. Law was alarmed at the willing toss of unopened food stuff as Luffy exhaled heavily.
He looked at Law with a thumbs up. "Give Sanji a message for me," he said. "Tell him I'm going to not eat a thing unless he talks to me."
Law rolled his eyes. He held onto his bag with both hands. "At this point, it's not going to matter to him. I live with him, and he – "
Luffy's eyes glowed with victory until Law realized his mistake. Luffy gave a pump of his arm. He pulled his bags out from the trash can and walked backwards away from Law before settling against the nearby heli-pad wall. He pulled out his cupcakes once again and watched Law stand there, clearly not allowing him to leave his sight.
At that moment, Penguin appeared, waving an arm. "Shachi's getting the car!" he called out with reassurance. Luffy stuffed his mouth quickly, watching Law with that same determined look to his face. Considering traffic, Law felt that a few detours would be fine.
I'll outsmart him, he thought with confidence.
: :
Because of the strangeness of the encounter – feeling nervous, now – Law ended up telling Sanji about it when the man returned home. Sanji's reaction was a low, tired sigh. He had what looked like food stains around his shirt and pants. Law was pretty sure the man hadn't taken his advice. There were sweat stains on his shirt and he could definitely smell him. Like cigarettes and old body odor, mixed with onions and sweat. It made his eyes water.
"I don't want to talk to him," Sanji mumbled bitterly. "I don't want to talk to anybody."
"I think it'll be fine," Law said. "Because I temporarily lost my job."
Sanji looked at him with a start.
Just as bitterly, Law mumbled, "If I want it back, I need to be well."
Sanji scratched just above his ear. There were definitely flakes falling away from the spot, coloring his shirt. "What does that mean?"
"I need a doctor's note to return."
"So just make one up."
Law looked at him impatiently before looking to Bepo's tank. He'd left it open, hoping that the lizard would return. But there still wasn't any sign of him. He wondered if Sanji noticed, and he didn't feel like saying anything.
Sanji sighed noisily, crossing his arms over his chest before wandering down to the couch. It occurred to Law that either one of them could have sat on the lizard and smothered it into the cushions. He didn't smell anything rotting, though. It occurred to him how unfeeling he felt about the reptile – how could he, when he couldn't even feel anything for himself?
He ended up mirroring Sanji's sigh before taking up his end of the couch. Both of them were so enveloped within their own problems that neither of them said a thing. It was hard to reach out to feel anything for another person when they couldn't allow themselves to feel for themselves.
He scratched around his goatee, the rasp of sound noisy against the still silence. Law looked over at the salt lamp that hadn't been turned on in…quite some time.
Sanji exhaled. "I never thought," he said slowly, his voice slightly raspy, "that I'd turn out this way. Like…I can't remember the moment when I gave up."
Law couldn't, either, so he nodded in agreement.
"I don't see the point," Sanji mumbled, looking at his fingernails. "Like…life?"
"Are you suicidal?" Law asked sharply, horrified at the thought of finding him one day.
"I think we both are," Sanji pointed out, looking at him. "Both of us are just wasting away under the weight of our – whatever this is! Both of us are going to wind up dead! Who has the key to this place? Who is going to find us when neither of us turn up?"
"I can see that cook kicking the door down to look for you," Law said dryly.
Sanji looked bothered. "I can, too…but…I guess the point is…why are we doing this to ourselves?"
Law shrugged. He didn't know Sanji's reasons, and he didn't want to discuss his.
Sanji studied his own hands, the sound of his dry fingers rubbing together noisy.
"I made a mistake," he said slowly before Law interrupted him with, "Five?"
Sanji rolled his eyes. "Five," he confirmed with irritation. "I made five mistakes. I know it's my fault. I know I fucked it up. I shouldn't…there should be no sympathy for me. In the end, I did this shit with my own free will, and…the consequences were expected. So…why…why did I stumble?"
Law couldn't answer that. But he felt it was similar to his position. He made his choice – all of them. All of his adult life. And the consequences were this.
"I should be happy," Sanji mumbled, furrowing his brow. "I should be happy because I was caught…I wasn't forgiven for something that I knew was wrong…I should be happy because I don't…feel like a slave, or unappreciated…but…I'm so unhappy…and I don't understand that. There's no apology or fix in the world that can correct my…five…mistakes. So…why aren't I happy?"
Law shrugged.
"Is it a chemical imbalance? Am I not…eating properly?"
"Are you eating at all?"
"Why am I on the opposite end of the spectrum? Where is my life? I always felt so much joy and peace cooking, but I can't bear to pick up a knife. I can't…I can't breathe. That's what it feels like," Sanji decided low. "I feel like I can't breathe because the air is too thick."
Law nodded with understanding. "Lung cancer."
Sanji frowned at him impatiently.
"That's how it starts. Restrictions of the lungs means – "
"It wasn't a literal thing!"
"I feel like," Law started off slowly, "neither of us will understand what it means to be in each other's shoes. So describing it feels like a waste of breath."
Sanji looked at him for a few moments, then nodded in agreement. "I felt like more of a person being with someone."
Law considered this. He couldn't understand the notion, so he said, "I feel less of one because I never allowed myself that sort of thing."
"Why?" Sanji asked curiously.
"Because I hate when people tell me what to do. Don't you feel that way?"
"I do," Sanji admitted with a wince. "But a relationship isn't like that – "
"You can't say that when yours failed spectacularly under your own hand."
Sanji sighed noisily.
"So what do you know of it?" Law asked. "If you left home early, found what you were looking for in someone that didn't satisfy you – you can't say anything about what love is, or what a relationship should be."
He was aware that he was being harsh – but he couldn't sugarcoat his words if he didn't feel any empathy.
"You're right," Sanji agreed slowly. "I shouldn't. I just have…I just rely on all these bits and pieces I see around me. I believe in my dreams rather than my reality. I put others before myself because it…makes me feel better. Because I am unworthy of anything better."
Law's lips tightened. Damn. It sounded so close to his own feelings.
"If I don't have this, then what's the point?" Sanji mumbled, looking off at something only he could see. "If I can't love myself, then how can I love someone else? And maybe I didn't love him. Zoro. Maybe I relied on him too much for my own selfish reasons, never really attuning myself to what he wanted? Maybe, from the very beginning, I used him to satisfy cravings I couldn't identify then. That makes me the villain. That makes him right."
"In the end," Sanji muttered bitterly, looking at his fingernails, "my family was right about me."
Since Sanji didn't provide any detail after that, Law had no idea what they were "right" about. He assumed that this contributed to Sanji's feelings of self-worth.
"So," he said after a long stretch of silence, "what are you going to do about it?"
Sanji shrugged. "I don't know. What can you do? I mean…what can I do?"
Law mimicked the action. Sanji looked to him. "What about you? I mean…are you going to check yourself into a clinic? Or how does that work?"
Law sighed, drawing his blanket tight around himself. "What's the point? They have my file on hold. Every time I try and get out of this mess I created around myself, I fall back in."
Sanji wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "I feel like you don't have much support."
"What can other people do, Sanji, when I refuse to listen to them? I don't even listen to myself."
Sanji shrugged in response. "It feels good knowing that someone will catch you when you trip."
"Did anyone catch you?"
Sanji frowned while Law felt threatened. He honestly hated this feeling. It wasn't like everyone was an enemy – they weren't trying to hurt him, so why was he so afraid of taking their outstretched hand? Frustration and anger warmed him from the inside. So angry at himself and his way of thinking that it felt like a physical thing inside of him, needing to be physically removed and pulled out.
Sanji watched his inner feelings play out on his face while Law glared out at his trembling hands. Something inside of him somehow understood that the words Law threw back at him weren't something given with weight. A part of him perked slightly.
"You were right," he started off slowly. "I feel like I can understand your position. You'd once said you'd done this to yourself, this was of your own doing. No one contributed. I feel the same. I created my own problems – I feel, personally, that the things I do earn me no empathy from others – "
"Sympathy."
"EMPATHY, because I keep doing it to myself, over and over and over and I don't want to hear what others say, because what do they know?" Sanji insisted. "They're not in my shoes. So hearing them give me advice, or telling me to help myself or I deserve what I gave myself – none of that is going to make me feel any better."
"I – "
"How long is your leave?"
Law frowned at him. "For as long as…as long as I have a clearance to return."
"Let's do this," Sanji negotiated. "I think that the place you go to is shit because they make you feel like shit. Let's try another place."
"I don't want to – "
"And you'd think that way because you're already comfortable with what you know, right? How do you know that it doesn't work if you're so comfortable in that zone? What if part of the reason why you can't get better is because you already know what to expect in a place that's given you similar results?"
Law's frown deepened.
"There has to be other clinics out there, with different personnel that won't treat you like the same guy that's already seen them before."
"I don't want – "
"Because it's uncomfortable, right? Isn't this your lowest point, Law? Losing your job because you can't…do whatever it is you do? Literally holding someone's heart in your hands – don't these strangers give you too much trust? Why can't you return the gesture by giving someone else that chance?"
"Because I know the rate of failure!"
"Is your life that valuable to think that you can't take a chance?"
Law glared at him. Obviously, his life wasn't. Obviously, he didn't think so. Obviously, he didn't feel any confidence in giving himself to another person to fix. If he failed himself, how could he expect others to succeed?
"We're both stubborn that way, huh?" Sanji murmured, sitting back in his seat. "Neither of us are too proud to hold ourselves up, but too fucking proud to allow anyone in. Is it for their concern? Or ours?"
Law remembered how he'd done this out of concern for Rocinante's finances. To "stay out of the way."
He furrowed his brow a little. Why was he fighting this suggestion?
Wasn't he tired of giving in all the time?
Wasn't he tired of having no control?
Why couldn't he just give in and take that hand extended to him?
He felt heavier than he did before, thinking these thoughts in a whirl of repeats. He'd fallen, but he could see the hand reaching for him to help him up. Shouldn't he take it after all this time? Obviously, he could not do this on his own. Obviously, he failed himself – so should he trust someone else to step in after all these years of turning away someone's offer?
But why was that thought so frightening?
He looked at Sanji. How could he think to trust a guy that couldn't live on his own? That fell apart once he had no one to cling to? And if Law should give him his hand, would Sanji forget all about himself once he had someone to focus on?
Law had to wonder, Is this my last chance at recovery?
Sanji rubbed his eyes, looking at Bepo's tank before looking at Law. His eyes skirted all around him before looking at him with some panic. "Where's your lizard?"
"I'll take the offer," Law said slowly, ignoring the question. His voice felt heavy as he released it. He felt winded. He felt scared because he was entrusting his life on a stranger that couldn't even save his own life. He was taking a risk, jumping a crevice he had no chance of clearing – reaching out for a hand stretching for his while the other was clinging to a fracturing rope. Both of them quite capable of falling.
With some hesitation he added, "As long as…you take care of yourself."
Sanji frowned at him with consideration. It was an odd condition, but he wasn't sure how to take it.
"I don't want to be the focus," Law said after determining that expression on Sanij's face. "Get your depressed ass on meds or start jogging, or something. Get a haircut, clean your skin, start dating – whatever. I don't want you to think this is all about me."
"I don't want to date," Sanji said hastily. "I…don't think that being with someone after failing my marriage would make any sense to me. I'd only repeat my mistakes."
"I don't care what you do, just fix yourself. Don't they have therapy for divorcees?"
"I…don't know. Sounds stupid."
"So does being told what to eat and how to do it."
Sanji sighed noisily. His hand went to his hair and swept it back. "Fine. Deal."
He extended his hand to shake on it, but Law did not trust it. He made a face until Sanji retracted it. He smelled himself and winced.
: :
That night, Sanji sat in the tub for quite some time. Just struggling to think beyond the thick fog that had seemed to settle permanently over his thoughts felt like a monumental effort. He thought about the deal he and Law made – it felt like such a risk. Was he capable of helping another person right now? Especially someone that far gone? It startled him how close to death Law looked.
It made him feel a whirlwind of things. Guilt, shame, horror, fascination…he knew Law didn't blame him, but Sanji was a goddamn human being that did have empathy for other human beings, and for some reason, that empathy ran away from him. The man had lost his job (temporarily, he understood) because of his condition. But he felt angry at that – clearly, this person needed help. So why did the board, after all these years, expect him to help himself? Clearly, Law needed another employer.
How had Sanji checked out for so long? But it was something that had settled over him eventually, until he hadn't even realized what happened until being forced to face it. He had been so swept up in the loss of Zoro, over the end of love, over a new and uncertain world where everything was nothing what he'd dreamed it to be.
He accepted that the end of his marriage was his own mistake (five of them). He accepted that he was not a victim in this – he willingly caused his own misfortune. He was the cause of his friends turning their backs to him. He deceived them, his husband and himself – he took full responsibility for the explosion. He might as well as drew the knife over his own throat.
He understood why Zoro hated him so much – to have so much trust and faith in another person that said "I Love You" ripped away by the revelation of another man – Sanji was sure he'd never forgive himself for that. The things he'd wanted were things that seemed to trivial, now.
And perhaps he hadn't loved Zoro at all – not as a person. But as a 'safe place', a rope to help him from the crevice he'd fallen into at the hands of his family. Zoro had been his hand and Sanji took advantage of it.
Now, months later, he could look back and see all the mistakes and beliefs he'd made up in his mind to tolerate this marriage. He'd settled because he believed in the concept of love, that it truly existed. If he could make it happen, then it was there.
Only…that step had been rickety. Fouled by the truth.
Zoro had tolerated him because Sanji was pushy.
And now, after everything, Sanji lost trust in himself, in his belief, in the concept that he'd so lovingly crafted with his own hands. Who was he as a person if what he believed in didn't exist as he thought? Having love, and being loved in return, wasn't the work of one person. It involved two. He didn't have that with his family; he didn't have that with Zoro. The one thing he wanted he couldn't believe in, anymore. So the depression had settled in without him noticed that he couldn't see. Every day lived was just another day of mechanical action without him being present.
He went to work, he cleaned, he kept to himself. He smoked too much, he ate too little, he clenched his teeth too hard. His muscles felt stiff from being too rigid. He couldn't sleep – it eluded him, teased him, but refused to embrace him. When he did, he saw pictures of his family and friends laughing and mocking him, forcing him into corners he couldn't escape. He couldn't find joy in cooking because food made him sick; because feeding others, once a great pleasure, now seemed like an unbearable chore. What was the point of nurturing others if he himself couldn't have it?
It wasn't that he was actively suicidal – he didn't feel any urge to remove himself. He just felt like he was slowly disappearing.
He only vaguely noticed Law if the man said something to him, and even then, the memory did not stick. He absolutely could not remember interacting with him much – he didn't even know if he were there! How horrible of a person was he if he couldn't even acknowledge his own roommate's existence? It was as if he were entirely on his own.
But now that he saw him, Sanji felt overwhelmed by his deal. How does one "save" another person that didn't want to be saved?
He had to take that back. Law did want to be saved. He just didn't know how.
He took Sanji's offer, despite his earlier show of refusal. But Sanji could see how tired he was – it was all over that face. It was in the hopeless way Law answered, as if all his own efforts had just blown up in his face and he was tired of clinging. That's the impression Sanji got from him.
Sanji didn't know how to support a man that refused support. It was easy to say "Let me help you," and take over the rope. But Law refused that. So Sanji needed to find another way to catch that outstretched hand.
On his day off, he noticed Law looking at his phone. It occurred to Sanji that he didn't even know where his was. He did not remember where he'd last left it. Surely it was dead by now, so calling it was pointless.
But he asked, "May I help you find a place?"
"It's not like a Target, Sanji," Law returned impatiently, lowering his phone. Sanji noticed that he was having difficulty seeing things. He wondered how starving one's self affected eye sight. "They're not available at every block."
"Then may I ask someone?"
Law gave him a bewildered look. "And, what, tell them about my business?"
"It's common, isn't it?" Sanji asked tentatively. "In a food industry, surely there are those that would know."
"And so people can look at me like I'm a fucking freak."
"Look at me," Sanji said, gesturing at himself. Law looked reluctantly. "I think I would pass, right?"
Law ended up shrugging in response, and Sanji found that as permission.
"Thanks for allowing me to help you," he said carefully.
Law gave him a bewildered look. "Why would you be thankful for that?"
"Because it feels good to be needed," Sanji answered. Law ended up thinking about that. Sanji wondered if Law was going to ask him to find Bepo – but then again, he didn't want to bring it up if Bepo had accidentally died.
So Sanji approached Zeff once he arrived at work.
"I don't think that guy wants help," Zeff said gruffly, starting coffee.
Sanji pursed his lips then said, "It's…for me."
Zeff looked at him skeptically.
"I wanted to look a certain way," Sanji said slowly, pulling self-consciously at his apron. "And now I can't…like…"
"It's not that I'm holding the information for any sort of ransom," Zeff then said. "It's up to the guy that wants help. You can lead a horse to water, but ya can't make him drink it if he don't want it."
"But I need treatment. Or…I will die," Sanji assured him gravely.
Zeff studied him for a few moments, then put down the pot he held. He overlooked Sanji's lie. He had to doubt himself, though. He'd noticed Sanji's downfall over the past month or so – everyone had.
"I have a…friend," he said slowly. "And he sees a guy. But it ain't cheap or even – you might be admitted during evaluation. Can you do something like that?"
"I got time," Sanji assured him.
Once he had the name, Sanji made it his mission to find his phone. For some reason, it was laying underneath the mountain of ice in the freezer. He would have to get another. So he told Law, and Law looked it up. That weekend, both of them walked through a set of narrow doors and into what looked like a mansion. It assured the public that it was privately funded.
Sanji ended up walking out alone. It was to his relief that Law had agreed to stay for the weekend – to be evaluated, to be given fluids, to be given time to process his options - payment free – but both of them suspected that someone was paying for this visit, anticipating Law's arrival.
He wondered if Rocinante had the place bugged.
Once he returned home, he ventured into the kitchen.
He took a gamble. "Hey, if you find the lizard, can you please put him back in the tank? I don't want to wake up with him on my fucking face."
Then he cleaned out the fridge, cupboards and disinfected the counters. He put away dishes from the dishwasher that he remembered loading – months ago.
By the time he was finished, he was exhausted. He slept in his bed for hours and woke up with a start.
Venturing into the living room, disoriented by his nap, he wasn't sure what he was looking for. But he found Bepo sitting in his tank, happily spread out on his rock. His water dish was full. He had a cricket running around the rock. There was a box of them sitting at the base of the stand. Sanji looked at it with distaste then looked around the apartment suspiciously.
"You cowardly scumbag," he said aloud, tone thick with revulsion.