TRIGGER WARNINGS: Physical abuse.

Law's eyes nearly jolt open at the pain of having his jaw come in contact with what feels like hard metal. A man in a black hoodie pulled over his head, red strands of hair sticking out is the one leading the show. He knows one person who's hair is that red.

Just so happens that Kid, is the one throwing the blows. Very snidely, Law notes through teared up eyes, beating the shit out of him. All he can feel is a loud pounding in his head. Hard concrete under his body. And the uncomfortable presence of one too many people standing around.

Kid's smiling while he does it too. Like he's getting a real kick out of it, very literally. Law feels a hard boot nearly break his shin and it's not that hard to guess it's Killer. He's always been the one with the ridiculous construction worker type boots on. For whatever damn reason he has. Maybe he had a side job he just didn't want to admit to. Who knows?

Law thinks he must be going crazy if this is the type of shit he's thinking of during his little episode of public humiliation.

Regardless. Said boot like that hurt like a motherfucker, and Law's guttural groans don't seem to be enough for Kid's sick sadistic satisfaction. Law somehow hears him tell Killer to do it again.

So it's one more kick to the shin. Another punch to the jaw.

Law even feels hands grip his neck and hold his head up, since he can't do it himself. Kid's got these dark black eyes with no pupil that could constitute to the reasoning behind him doing this. He's got no soul. If Law could laugh now, he would. This would be a great time to. Until he partially reads Kid's lips and hears what he says.

Says some shit about making Law want to die more than he already does. Feels his hands press hard against his skin when he tries to swallow blood laced saliva. Law's barely able to open his eyes through the swelling that's no doubt already left his face a deep purple. He doesn't really need to, to know everyone else around him is smiling too. He can feel it through his skin. And it's either that, or the actual burning sensation coming from Bonney's lighter that's giving him a little smiley on his arm.

The lack of effort from the countless people that Law can hear around them is all Law needs to know. There are a couple of "ohhs" and "ahhs" when Kid lands a kick to his gut. And Kid's foot might as well be made of coal, dipped into oil and ignites when it comes in contact with Law's gut. The flames set Law's insides on fire. And of course, there's his own rough gasp that screams for air, but it isn't the kind of sound Kid seems to want out of him. Even now, he's being a disappointment.

Through ringing ears, he hears Kid tell him to beg. He's not a dog; he's not going to listen to Kid like he's his fucking master. He knows the kind of reaction they want from him and he'll refuse to give it even if it kills him. And that really might be Law's near fatal mistake. Or it would have been, if not for the loud shriek in the back that startles everyone and gets them to scatter. At least that's what it looks like through his clouded sight.

Notices everyone start to run as if theirlives were the ones at risk and not his own. With the amount of times his head has been slammed into the cement he could be haemorrhaging right now. No one would know. Or perhaps all this head banging that should have been left for a party, would give him such a severe concussion he'd never wake up. It'd leave him in a coma. A young boy could only dream.

Kid leans down to whisper something into Law's ear that he now can't make out through how much ringing there is going on. Watches him spit on the floor before him, which for Kid, is quite kindof him. To not just spit on Law's face instead, and then takes his own leave, Killer not too far behind. There was a distinct reason why he went by that nickname. Law being very close to realizing said reason.

Within what seems like forever to him, a large body appears, saying all the shit he always hears on TV when watching crime shows with Rocinante. The standard, "stay with me!" and "someone call 911!" with the additional slur of curse words to "find those fucking kids" and if Law could give out a laugh he would. But he can't even keep his eyes open. The pain and the sting of just trying is so bad he'd rather die. And maybe that was the whole point.

So now if he doeskick the can, he won't regret much of it but the fact it was by the hands of his best friend. Or ex best friend. He's never liked those kinds of labels but now, just for the next twenty seconds he's estimating he'll be conscious, he'll slap Kid with the label of an ex best friend. Because that's about as much damage as he can throw.

And compared to Kid, it's pathetic.

/

A week and a half later, Law's allowed back in school. Or at least, he'd been well enough to go for that long. Though Rocinante had begged him to stay home, he said he'd look more of a coward than he already does if he didn't go by now. Getting Rocinante to ask him for nearly the hundredth time, who the fuck did this to him. Law shrugs it off, changes the subject and asks Rocinante if he wants his coffee black.

The principal has questioned him for twenty minutes before class. And nearly his entire lunch period, this time with two cops around to write down everything Law says. Which only constitutes of "I don't know, I can't remember." And it's not alla lie. But he's a smart kid. Or so he likes to give himself credit for. He knows this kind of severe trauma to the head could lead to either temporary or permanent amnesia. And though he has neither, knows exactly who did this to him, and could make an educated guess as to why, he just wants to put it past him. As much as everyone else will let him. And unfortunately, it isn't much.

Rocinante's told him to tell the damn truth. He can see through Law's little "I don't remember" face and tone of voice that he knows. Sometimes he wishes he didn't know him as well as he does, but for that, Law can't really do much. All he cando, though he thinks of it too as feeble, is avoid and ignore.

And he triesto, for the most part. But it's a bit difficult when his assaulters are in the same class as him, sitting less than four desks to his right. Law's large turtleneck is big enough to hide the last of the green bruises on his body and cast that's wrapped around his left arm.

But the right side of his face is still a deep purple, and that's what catches people's attention. He'd gotten a few questions in the halls asking what the hell happened to him, how he broke his arm so bad, and even if he's affiliated with a gang.

All to which Law ignored, gaining him a few "Is he mute now?" questions that he also tried to tune out. If he wanted to he could tell them to shut the fuck up, and that no,he's not mute. He just doesn't want to talk.

But it doesn't come out. And he doesn't feel like he owes anyone an explanation anyways. If anything, someone needs to tell him why the fuck he was sought out, because he sure as hell doesn't know.

Being able to write with both hands was the only good outcome of this, seeing as he still needed to take down notes. The last thing he wants to do is be stuck in English for another hour. The red head burning through his skin with his gaze. He looks like he's itching to say something or lunge over the tables between them and finish the job. Law knew Kid to have violent tendencies, but he doesn't know what made him be violent with him.Would ask if it didn't look like Kid could pull out a knife and jump him in the classroom.

Law's been a pretty brave kid. Losing his parents at such a young age. Rocinante's commented to a few other adults how well Law's managed to take it, all things considered. And he'd mourned. He maybe didn't do it the right way, but it was hisway. Now though, Law staring at his empty notebook and twiddling his pencil with his free hand is angry. He's angry, but he's terrified. He's fucking terrifiedof Kid.

His teacher is discussing the process of applying to universities and colleges. What grades you should have for what program, and so on. Law tries to write down whatever points she deems is important and worth remembering. Though being as angry as he is, he manages to break the lead in his pencil with every few words he gets down.

"Remember to-" Break. "emphasize your-" Break. "good and bad points," Break.

The sound of lead breaking is nowhere near as loud as the sound of an arm breaking. Remembers it a little too well for someone who'd also had his head banged against the cement one too many times. He doesn't know why he's even bothering to write any of this down.

Law already knows where he wants to go and what he wants to do and Rocinante always makes it a point to tell him how proud he is of him. How proud is parents would be of him. However right now, the only thing on Law's mind is that if it weren't for the fact he had the "wildest" break on an arm his doctor had ever seen, he'd be the one doing the lunging and beating. He would, and he wouldn't have a single care in the world.

Too early in the morning, Law's asked to go see his psychiatrist. Not so much asked, as it is nearly demanded of him. He's got to get his ass out of bed and put on a new change of clothes within five minutes or someone will do it for him. Really, he couldn't be bothered. If someone wanted to tryto drag him out of there, they could. But the reality of it was he's not up to moving, not up to talking, not up period. His eyes are clouded as they try to adjust to the bright light in the room. There's a reason his blanket is pulled over his head and it's not because he's fucking cold. He lays in bed for maybe five minutes before the nurse returns and asks him to get up again. He doesn't. Beds too comfy and while he's not exactly cold the warmth doesn't shout "get up!" in any way.

So his ass is forcefully dragged out.

"How do you find yourself feeling here? Any better? Worse?" Robin asks him. It's ten in the morning. He gives her a yawn, followed by a second. He's gotten about give or take, two to three miraculous hours of sleep.

As honest as he can be at this time, it's a wee bit too early to be asked this question.

"I'd need a better adjective than worse to describe how I feel here." He tells her with another yawn, a big one at that and she notes he's clearly lacking in the sleep department. Because the large bags under his eyes weren't a dead giveaway.

"Such as?" More questions. It's always question after question, he doesn't know why that bothers him as much as it does. After all, the only way they'd know how he feels is if they asked.

"I don't know. Disastrous? Detrimental?" Those are the first two singular words that pop up into his head. Next to the lengthy "this place is a literal shit hole, and I want to fucking leave".

"Why would you pick those?"

"Because those are the two words that came to my mind first."

"Why's that?" He doesn't think a reason is necessary and that the words should be pretty self explanatory.

"I feel like I'm going crazier in here than I was at home. There I was just, well, there. Here, I'm here. And there. And everywhere and nowhere at the same time and my fucking roommate tried to jump me too, so there's that. Some old man in the cafeteria keeps talking to his dead wife and he keeps trying to introduce me to fucking Susan.I don't want to meet her. I don't give a single fuckabout Susan. I feel like sooner or later I'mgoing to fucking see my dead cat thanks to him." What he knows as babbling on, Robin does as "an episode". He's no hit TV drama. Her writing is much more clear than his previous psychiatrist, so it's not that difficult for him to flip the words on her paper right side up. And a big fuck off, is all he wants to give her as a reply to any other damn questions she has. He doesn't need to hear them to know they'll make him want to rip out every last strand of his hair.

"Sachi has his own problems to deal with. If you need a room transfer-"

"No." Lets out a heavy tired sigh, "I know why he's like that. And it's not his fault; I'm just being too much, maybe. But there's him, and there's fucking Susan,and Penguin wants to dig the fuck out of this place with god damn spoons like we're living the Shawshank Redemption and I... I could wring a neck right now if I wanted to. I won't, I'm just saying if I wanted to. But I don't want to. Just to clarify." He repeats the end several times to make sure she's got the message. He's watching her like a hawk as she somehow maintains eye contact with him, but writes nearly every word for word thing he's just said to her. Which isn't exactly a good thing but, again. All while maintaining eye contact. Until she blinks and sighs, putting her pen down along with the mood. Not that it was too high up in Law's books to begin with.

"It's okay to be uncomfortable with your surroundings. It's not an unusual feeling people have when first being admitted here, Law. Some get accustomed quicker than others, and some, not so much. It doesn't mean you're the problem. Your illness is." She says, and he's heard that before. It's no surprise to him. It seems like all therapists or psychiatrists take the same lesson in 'how to console your patients' because it all sounds the fucking same. He doesn't really have anything to say to that but tries to gives her a "sure" though his exhaustion escapes his mouth quicker than his voice in a yawn as his sort of reply. He's just really fucking tired. Last night, the night before, three nights before that, all had him awake and nearly drowning in a pool of his own sweat.

He's got a thing or two to say to these doctors who think the medication he's on is doing it's job. Or perhaps it's just him, but quite frankly it feels like a complete waste of time and they're probably doing nothing but damaging his liver. They weren't as improved and guaranteed to work as they'd said.

"Have you been taking your medication?" She asks, snapping him out of mid-thought like she'd read his mind.

"What kind of question is that? You think I wouldn't take it?" He's almost offended she'd ask such a thing. If he's stuck in this shit hole, of course he's going to take his damned medication. It isn't like he has any choice otherwise.

"Just a normal question, Law."

"Well yeah. I have four people standing around me making sure I swallow the damn thing every fucking six hours. And I mean really checking. They demand I lift my tongue so they can make sure I haven't hidden the damn thing under there and plan on spitting it out as soon as they leave the room."

"That's good-"

"It's not good, I feel like a caged animal at the zoo with no more than fifty square feet of fucking space to move around." Alright. He knows these analogies make maybe half the amount of sense it did in his head. Not as much as he wishes they would. And probably sound much more stupid out loud. Though he could just say, "Hey, I feel fucking suffocated in here." But apparently, this whole zoo thing sounds much better. And then the conversation will turn into one he's unbelievably tired of.

"Why?" "I don't know." And then it'll go a little silent while she writes something down about his poor state of mind and clear lack of vocabulary.

But she doesn't ask him why. Instead she gives a little help. Because maybe she somehow sees that his limited vocabulary when speaking about feelings and his mind and shit comes in.

"Law, it's just protocol. Unfortunately many patients do what you're talking about. But if I were to guess... you feel trapped almost?"

"I feel trapped, yeah. There's no almost. I feel like whatever I do, whatever medication I take, I'm still going to be the same. Or you know, worse." He gives her a shrug and doesn't make a big deal out of the whole not asking "why" thing. Maybe she's tired of it too. He knows if he was a therapist or psychiatrist or even just listening to a friend talk he'd get annoyed by asking "why" when it's obvious they don't know.

"Medication is made to help you get better Law-"

"Yeah, help. Sometimes it's not enough. You know what kind of help I'd like? Euthanasia." He says. He's accepted his own downfall and ultimate demise from this stupid illness. That he doesn't, and most likely, will never understand why he has to deal with. Robin only stares at him with a blank expression and it makes it hard for Law to read her face that infuriates him even more. He didn't think it was possible, but maybe, he hates this place more than he hates himself.

And that's a lot of fucking hate inside one person.

Four in the afternoon. Law's laying in his bed facing the wall counting the numerous cracks in the paint he sees. There's a knock on the door and it opens shortly after, he's told he has visitors. It's five past four when he manages to convince the woman standing at his door to tell them to leave. He's not taking any visitors. And it'll stay that way.

Robin visits shortly after and asks him why he's isolating himself. He says he's not. He's just feeling unwell, and wants to try to sleep it off. She says okay, but the look on her face says she doesn't buy into it.

It's a few hours before lights out when Sachi is told to go back to his original room with Law. Not five seconds after the door closes behind him, he makes countless attempts at starting a conversation with him.

How was your day? How was talking with Robin? Did you see old man Ralph trying to call upon Susan again?

Law's too into his book to even look up let alone reply. Really, he's just been staring blankly at the same page for what seems like a good forty minutes. Reading the same line over and over occasionally.

"What I think is, you're supposed to leave somebody alone if he's at least being interesting and he's getting all excited about something. I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It's nice."

The line vaguely reminds him of Luffy.

When it's lights out, Sachi falls asleep almost immediately. Lets out an unbelievably loud groan and shouts that he's pooped from doing whatever it was he said. Law didn't catch it. He's in his own little bubble, and it goes on that way for the next week.

"Law c'mon, get up! Let's go!" Sachi nearly breaks the door down, barging in like there's a fire and he's got to get the hell out of there, ASAP.

"What?"

"Tonight is movie night! Apparently,according to an inside source…they're showing Lord of the Rings!" Sachi exclaims, and it's pretty obvious he's beyond excited. Considering the fact they've been replaying shitty holiday movies for the past week and nothing but,it's not hard to see why.

It's a week until Christmas, but Christ almighty have mercy on them. Home Alone 2 wasn't good. It'll never be good no matter how many times he watches it. Ever.

Neither will Sachi's never ending complaining about the movie. He's memorized every single scene where Sachi asks, "Why the fuck are we watching this shitty movie?" "This movie is shit." and, "I fucking hate this shit movie."

"Are you the inside source?" He asks. If he were to face it as honestly as he could, there's really no one else who'd be hunting around for information like that anyways.

"It's a secret? What kind of source gives away their name?" Sachi questions back. He walks over to Law's bed and sits in front of him, could even break the damn thing if he sat down any harder.

"I'll pass." Law tells him, holds up his book again that isn't such a bad read after the fourth time.

"WHAT?! No! Come on! Penguin said he'd get us snacks too!" Sachi knocks the book he deems to be the distraction in the conversation out of Law's hands. Clearly doesn't know the meaning of personal space and it's not really a matter of just telling him to fuck off. Because Law knows even if he does he won't.But him slapping the book down to hit his lap in order to get him to go is probably… not the best idea.

"I don't want any snacks, you can have them." Law says. Sachi's trying his patience but he'll keep calm.

"Really?!" Sachi says it a little too excitedly and has to clear his throat to put back the "serious voice". He thinks he had going for him. "I mean, well. You sure? You've been cooped up in here for like forever! I never see you man!" He puts on an amusing puppy dog face but it's not amusing enough for Law to just up and agree to watch a movie that's nearly three hours long. Neither does knowing Sachi will undoubtedly talk throughout the entire movie.

"That doesn't make any sense. You're my roommate." He just rebuttals his comments with actual logic, and Sachi doesn't seem to like it. He misses the Law that'd actually talk.Granted it wasn't as if Law was ever a big talker, but at least he spoke more than now and it wasn't in the most depressing monotone voice Sachi's ever heard.

"I mean outside this room! Shit isn't good for you!"

"I said no." Ignores what he's saying because Law knows it's true. He blocks it out. All of it. Doesn't hear a thing. Will literally kick Sachi the fuck out if he doesn't leave within the next twelve seconds.

Sachi goes on with reasons he should go for another five minutes and thirty-six seconds. That's five minutes and twenty-four seconds more than Law was willing to give him. So he very loudly, tells him to leave him the fuck alone.

"Is everything okay in here?" The damned lady who Law knows is practically posted right outside their door walks in not even five seconds later. For some reason, looks out of breath. As if she ran over as quick as she could, but Law knows she's always there.

"Yeah. He was just leaving." Law gives Sachi no choice, watches him storm off like a kid having a temper tantrum and goes back to his book. She asks hi what happened and he ignores it. He's already spoken more than he'd wanted to today. Enough to last the week.

That said, the week is cut short by Robin and her god forsaken questions. Law finds the chair to be quite comfortable so he enjoys that, at least. Her talking? Not so much.

"Law, I've heard you've been ignoring your visitors?" Robin starts off, and Law just gives her a look that might as well ask her what her point is.

"And?"

"And… would you like to explain to me why?"

"Not really, no."

"You're isolating yourself Law. You know you shouldn't." Surprisingly not a question, but she might as well be asking why he's doing it.

"And?"

"And… you need to allow the people around you to help. You need a support system." Also not a question, Law notes it might not be as annoying today as it usually is. But he still doesn't have any particular urge to speak more than four or five words at a time.

"I don't think so."

"They come by every day." She tells him and sure. It'd be nice if he could see Rocinante and hear him crack jokes. Hear Luffy's lovely laughter. But he'd rather not.

"If you're trying to make me feel guilty-"

"I'm not trying to make you feel anything. Don't you think... if you did feel guilty, that it's because you know you shouldn't be doing what you're doing?" She questions and she's got a good point. Law won't give it to her though.

"No."

Robin starts up and continues to ask him questions about how he feels,and what he thinks about. What he wants, what he doesn't want. What he would like, what he wouldn't. It's all a jumble of messed up questions that Law ends up only replying to with 'I don't know'. Every time.

Law takes the long way back to his room. Looks out the window as much as he can through the bars and watches the snow fall as heavy as it comes. Stares out the windows, head turned to the left until he hears the nurse who's constantly perched outside his door call his name. Has yet to learn her own. Tells him there's an "aggressive red head" downstairs who demands to see him. And he only knows one red head deemed that aggressive.

After that nightmare, he's the last person Law wants to see. But it's something like, "face your fears!" that chants in the back of Law's head and makes him turn towards the staircase. He goes down, because fuck Kid. And the nerve he thinks he has to come by here. He walks over to the room most of the other visits take place and spots him in the far corner on his phone. Sucks in a breath deep enough to make him cough out the carbon and walks over.

"What are you doing here?" Skips the formal hellos because he's Kid. And he's Law. He couldn't care less.

"Well hey to you too. They've got you on some strict ass lockdown here or something? I've come by six other times and they've all told me you're like, in some solitary shit." Kid looks around the room, stares at a couple of other patients with their family members or friends then back to Law. He looks unbelievably awkward, as Law notes. If it were under different circumstances, he might have found it funny.

"No. I told them to turn away everyone who asked for me." Law sits down across from him, stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"Why the fuck would you do that? I didn't know you were some sociopath." Kid jokes around but the odd glares from people around him make him throw dirty looks back. To say, 'how rude of you to eavesdrop'.

"Funny. I did it for a number of reasons. Are you going to tell me why you're here or?" He asks again because Kid's dodging the question the way he would bullets if a cop shot at him.

"Right. Well, a little bird was flying my way and told me what happened. So I wanted to come see you for myself you know? Check up n' shit. I still care about you even if we're not the best of friends." Kid gives him shrug. He smells like cigarettes and Law misses the nicotine.

"I mean, hearing you almost died? Wouldn't that be reason enough? At first I was all, "damn the son of a bitch fucking did it" like, I couldn't believe it. I wasn't happy or anything, the opposite. Swear. But fuck man, what were you thinking?"

"I'd hardly say we're friends." Kid scoffs at Law's reply like it's the only thing out of the mess he'd said he caught. The smell just makes Law's insides ache.

"Acquaintances then." It's a negotiation Law's wiling to accept.

"Sure."

"How are you feeling? They've probably got you on some hardcore meds here right?" Kid asks and gives him a near mischievous smile that reminds him of how utterly stupid Kid was in high school.

"Something like that. I feel fine. It's just boring, really." Partially lies through his teeth. It's only a white one.

"Man, I've known you since we were 10, do I look like I'd forget your lying voice?" Kid goes from looking like a troublesome teenager to a serious adult in no time flat.

"I'm fine though. As fine as you can be in here." Law gives him that and it sounds less like a lie, but more or less the same thing. Keeps a face that says "I'm actually fine and not lying about it". But Kid's got his moments when he can be sharp and pick up on shit.

"Looks can be really deceiving Law. A good friend can see you for who you are no matter what face you wear." He says, points a finger at him and Law swats it away.

"Good friend? I thought we were acquaintances." Law knows he's indecisive but he wonders if Kid knows he's just as bad.

"Don't be a dick and ruin the moment." Kid says a little loudly. The old lady to their right looking over like he'd just said something taboo, and Law only rolls his eyes.

"When do you get out of here? It looks crazy depressing in here." Kid says as he darts his eyes around the room. The atmosphere, and not to mention the building itself, is painted a plain light grey it's creepy.

"A week or two? Maybe something in between?" Law thinks. Being cooped up in his room for so long has fucked him up time wise. He doesn't even know what day it is. But it doesn't feel all that different than before. He'd think it was Friday when it was Wednesday before too. Kid nods and Law's curiosity kills.

"Do I even need to guess who the bird is?" There's no one else Law even talks to, so the guess doesn't even count as such regardless. Kid just smiles at him before sighing.

"He's messed up man. I saw him at the coffee shop last week sitting and aggressively typing on his keyboard. And when I said hey, he was really pissed at first. Shouting out shit like 'what the fuck is his stupid fucking problem?!', asking me like I had the answer. And then when he was done his rage fit, he got really sad. Or at least sad for him. He thinks you hate his guts and I kept trying to tell him that you don't you know? But your dumb ass is giving him the wrong impression and he's losing it." Kid tells him like it's the inside fucking scoop he's been missing while away. Law's not one to gossip so he doesn't consider this as such. But he's also regretting ever coming down to talk to Kid because now all he is, is worried.

"Losing it how?" Kid isn't elite when it comes to wording, so Law's got to ask. Losing it to Kid, might mean seeing fucking dead people.

"I mean he just doesn't seem as lively? I don't even know the guy but I can tell he wasn't like this before. He looks like he just got his heart broken or something. I mean, hell. You should have seen the way he was typing on that fucking laptop of his. What'd you even say to him?" Kid gives a little imitation by banging his fingers against the table, mimicking Luffy.

"I don't remember. A lot of shit." He sighs and throws his head back in attempt to remember, but it's all a blur. He seriously believes he might even be more doped up than he thought.

"You should let him visit. I mean actually come down here and talk to him, I know he wants to. He only mentioned it in our twenty minute conversation seven fucking times." Kid suggests, and Law just turns his head to look out the barred up window as if to say no. But it's not verbal so Kid presses on.

"Come on-"

"No. I don't have anything to say to him."

"So just listen-"

"I said no." Law's stern voice again has people looking. Staring. Prying. And while it's been a rather shitty kind of update on the 'outside world', he's had enough. He gets up and turns away to leave. Can hear Kid sigh behind him still sitting at the table before he's very loudly, called a coward. And he's not going to deny it.

Would give him the middle finger if there weren't so many old women sitting around. He could very easily tell by their facial expressions, each of them would jump at the chance to yell at a 'youngster' like him they deemed to have bad manners.

As the nurse hands Law his pills, watches him swallow all three, Sachi walks into the room for bed. Law's got no idea where he's been all day, but he gives the nurse a polite "goodnight!" before she exits the room. Sachi waits a couple of seconds, watching out the little window on their door. Once he deems the coast to be clear, that's when he pulls up one of his pant legs.

Sachi's somehow managed to get his hands on a flashlight. Half shoved into his high sock. Law's got no fucking idea how or who the hell allowed that to happen. He also doesn't know, why for some fucking reason, Sachi thinks telling scary stories is going to cheer him up. He doesn't need to hear Sachi's make believe crap about a guy in the woods killing teens after dark when his own life is a living nightmare.

Sachi, somehow keeps trying, but it doesn't play out so well. Law thinks he might have a complex where he just enjoys hearing his own voice. It could go both ways. He knows if he opens his own, it'll never close. He's got so much shit inside him that he just wants to shout out at anyone who's within ten feet of him.

And Sachi's his first pick.

Though he doesn't deserve to have his brain melt at the level of heat Law's words will come out.

"Man come on you're dampening the mood! I don't want to sleep yet but you're not being very good entertainment." Sachi mumbles and he sounds rather disappointed that Law's not putting on a fucking show for him or being anymore lively than he usually is. Which isn't much to begin with.

"You don't pay me enough to entertain." Law spits back and Sachi groans, because that isn't what he meant at all, but Law's sneering facial expression gets him to flinch at the sight.

"I don't pay you in general-"

"Exactly. I'm not here for your enjoyment."

"I didn't say you were, asshole! What's wrong? Do you wanna talk about it? Some say, I can be a better listener than Robin so let it out man, I have nothing else to do."

"You don't sound too convincing in getting me to talk, if that's what you're trying to do." Law's voice is full of irritation that could put a downer on even the cheeriest of people.

"You're so… extra. I'm telling you if you want someone to talk to I can listen, who am I gonna tell anyways?"

"I'm not worried about you telling anyone. I just don't want to talk."

"You don't want to talk… or you don't like to talk?" Sachi questions, and Law's really got to stop thinking people who look and act dumb are exactly that. Clearly Sachi's got more going on in his head than scary stories and sneaking out food from the cafeteria.

"Both." If this were on a points system Sachi would be sky rocketing right now, Law's pretty much fucked. Though the questions aren't as annoying as Robin's. Sachi's nowhere near psychiatrist level, or at least, so Law thinks.

"But you need to talk." Sachi insists and Law lets out a guttural sigh because he knows.

"Yeah."

"But you don't want to?" Sachi raises his eyebrows at him and Law furrows his own. If he could have a single dollar for every sigh that's been let out in this short conversation he could put a down payment on a car.

"Pretty much."

"Are you a child?" Law think's Sachi's got a backbone. It's brief, but he wonders where this kind of attitude goes when he's all giddy and talking about breaking out of this place. Until he starts laughing.

"Man! You're such a grump seriously, are you antisocial?" Sachi questions. Law thinks perhaps he meant to question whether he has social anxiety or not, because the two differ. Most people just don't know the difference.

"No. I'm not a sociopath."

"So then what's your problem?" He blurts and quickly clasps his hand over his mouth. If either of them gets caught being awake past lights out they'll never hear the end of it.

"What?"

"P-r-o-b-l-e-m?" Sachi spells it out for him like Law needs to be babied.

"I don't have a problem." He spits back.

"Sure you do, that's why you're in here. That's why we're all in here. Because we've got problems. Issues. We're "crazy" y'know?" Sachi says, twirling his finger beside his head to motion that

"Whatever." Law says. He's tired of being the one on the other end of the stick.

"I'm just being a friend to someone who looks like he needs one." Law can barely see through the light coming through the high ceiling windows but he doesn't need to. He knows Sachi's got a huge smile plastered on his face. Hears it in his voice.

"I don't need anything from you." He spits back and it couldn't come out as anymore deep in denial than it does. So much so, Sachi gives him a sigh and shakes his head. Tsk tsk, Law.

"That's what you think. I mean shit dude, you look like you could burst with words any second." Sachi gives back, begins to make himself more comfortable in his bed. Wraps his blanket around his body as if he's inside a cocoon. Law's expected as much. In the two weeks he'd gotten to know Sachi, he's made countless similarities between him and Luffy. Both stubborn. Both genuine. Both a pain in the ass.

This place is driving him nuts. He says it to himself, and thats as close as he's going to get to actually talking.

"It helps if you talk you know? I think I spent six hours one day talking to Penguin and I felt like a new man." Sachi suggests, it comes out muffled from what Law can see, is half his head pressed hard into his pillow. Again, Law knows. He knows, he knows.

"Not today." It's the last words out of his mouth before he turns his head to face the wall. Puts one arm under his head and takes a deep breath. Hears a quiet "okay" come from Sachi, and it's no more than ten minutes, give or take, before he hears loud snoring.

He only wishes that he could fall asleep as quick as Sachi. Even with the medication they give him, it only knocks him out for an hour or two more than usual. He can't complain. However what he can complain about, is the long list of terrible side effects they have. And he has. Complained, that is. Robin's only said that with some people, such effects last longer. He was hardly surprised to hear her say that, too. If he could be shocked at anything, it'd be that the pills actually had some effect at all.

Through his mind spinning and thinking of countless things that could be left for another day, perhaps some time when it wouldn't take away hours of his precious sleep, his body tosses and turns. Flips the pillow a couple of times to get the cold side. Their room is quiet minus Sachi's loud snoring. As every half hour or so goes by, Law somewhat feels closer to sleeping. In the split couple of second between his eyelids trying to keep themselves open and the imminent tiredness thats washing over him, he swears he sees Luffy. Questioningly calls out his name in a low whisper so he doesn't wake Sachi, out but he only gets a smile back. Luffy's head slowly turns and points at the door, while Law contemplates actually getting out of bed through clouded and hazy tired eyes. He calls out his name again, a more forceful whisper than the last. Luffy only drops his hand and turns his head back, now frowning before Law's eyes are completely shut. Sleep washes over him quicker than he can make out another call of Luffy's name.

At 1:48 in the morning, it's lights out for Law.

A/N: Hi. Lol... So... I keep feeling like it's been almost six months since I last updated but it's been... two. Not as bad as I thought, and quite honestly I don't have an excuse other than writers block. Is Luffy ever going to show the fuck up? Yeah, soon. Maybe. Do I have any idea when I'm going to update next? Yeah, soon. Hopefully. But like... truthfully thank you guys for still reading this story (it gets a shit ton of hits every day and I'm legitimately surprised because I have zero faith in my own writing so) even though I haven't been updating. I'm really going to try my hardest to start putting out chapters again and whether they're going to be as frequent as they used to be is still to be determined, but I assure you it won't be more than two months for the next chapter. BUT AGAIN, really, really, thank you guys for still sticking to this story. You're all amazing and I appreciate it so so much okay. I hope I'll be writing another a/n really soon so, you know. Look forward to it I guess.

Again though, thanks. It means the world to me.

~S