Chapter 12
Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece, but Kyra was my idea.
"Will you stroke me, Kyra?"
Kyra stares in disbelief at the bear, wondering if the creature has recently gone mad while around her nearly all of the Heart Pirates howl with laughter. "You want me to what, now?"
"Stroke me," Bepo replies calmly, tilting his furry head before turning to give the hysterical men a confused look. "Why are you all laughing?"
None of them answer, too busy choking on their mirth as Kyra tries very hard not to join in. Obviously the walking teddy bear doesn't think like the typical perverted human male and therefore has no idea why walking up to a woman and saying 'stroke me' would be a cause for hysterics. Poor Bepo is just asking to be humiliated with how naive he is.
Ruthlessly squashing the giggle lodged in her throat, the mage decides to clarify just to be safe. She's nearly positive that Bepo wouldn't proposition her, but stranger things have happened in her life.
No, really. They have.
"You want me to pet your fur?" Kyra asks, carefully rewording the bear's request. Bepo nods, clearly not understanding why she even has to ask.
"My fur gets itchy in this suit," he explains over the continued sounds of amusemenet from the men at the galley's table. "I'd ask the captain, but he'll be researching medical procedures again today and he doesn't like to be disturbed when he's... working..." Bepo fidgets before glancing back at his hysterical comrades. "Seriously, why are they laughing? What's so funny?"
"They're perverts who misconstrued your meaning due to the words you used to ask me to pet you," Kyra replies with a heroically straight face, pulling the tea kettle off the hot eye on the stove and pouring boiling water into her mug. "No big deal, just ignore them. They're going to laugh even harder when I ask if you'll have to take your clothes off."
Bepo opts to nod rather than shout over the increasingly noisy idiots crying with laughter and banging their fists against the table in a spasmodic manner. He takes the plate of lightly grilled fish from the sorceress with a nod of thanks before going to sit with those merry idiots as Kyra puts the finishing touches on the pancake mountain at her elbow. In the week since leaving Amazon Lily she has become the unofficial breakfast chef, as Neil apparently has issues with such foods and refuses to rise from bed before noon unless ordered to do so by his captain. Most of the men have gotten into the habit of meandering in sometime around ten just for her cooking. Levitating everything over to the tables always draws a handful of awed or amazed looks, but aside from the jilted cook no one has yet looked at her with disgust. Kyra doesn't know many names yet, and she does not go out of her way to seek the company of the crew; though for the most part they do not seem to have a problem with her.
It's probably the food. Everyone knows that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Law strolls in and seats himself as the mound of pancakes begins to distribute itself amongst the plates. He shoots a wicked smirk at Kyra as a mug of black coffee settles in front of him, butter smearing over his breakfast before it is drowned in syrup. She ignores him, digging into her portion with gusto as the rest do the same. Kyra refuses to deal with her captain overly long on an empty stomach.
The last week has sucked majorly because of the Dark Doctor. Since Kyra's magic no longer sees Law as a threat and she can no longer lash out at him with anything other than physical violence, the notorious pirate has taken it upon himself to annoy his single female crewmate whenever possible. Considering that he has decided to hold off on entering the New World for awhile and they have done nothing more interesting than drift lazily in the waters near Saboady Archipelago, this means he has harassed her almost constantly. Her only reprieve comes on the days Law shuts himself up in his infirmary with his giant medical books; Kyra hasn't gone near that damn room since leaving Amazon Lily and doesn't plan to do so anytime soon.
Law's foot grazes her calve, earning him a murderous glare which he smirks at. Quiet chuckles let Kyra know that the crew has seen her look and finds it amusing.
That's another thorn in her side: the damn crew gets great entertainment watching their captain and newest member interact. The fact that she is unable to magically get rid of the Supernova is a source of interest on the atrociously-colored submarine. Some of the men have picked up the habit of occasionally going out of their way to set up little scenarios that have Kyra stuck in Law's presence when she would much rather hide from him. Haru, the quiet and superstitious mechanic who is slowly starting to concede that Kyra isn't a walking bad luck charm, somehow insured that his captain procured a key that opens Kyra's door; she can't even keep the man out of her room now, since attempts to magically alter the lock against him have met with failure ever since. Thank the gods her magic has not yet deserted her when it comes to locking her bathroom door, or the insufferable surgeon would probably follow her in there, too.
And he's so gods-damned touchy! Always 'accidentally' brushing those long tattooed fingers against her arms or face or hair, always finding a reason to twine his hands through her curls, always standing or sitting uncomfortably close. Ever since that... that... kiss last week Law has been acting like Kyra's personal space exists only for him to breach it as often as possible. It's driving her fucking crazy.
"What plans does my magician have today?" Law purrs. Gods, she hates it when he does that. There's something about that tone of voice coming from him that just makes her feel weird, like dozens of tiny little feathers are brushing tantalizingly against her skin. And the possessive pronoun is kind of creepy, to be honest. Before she can make a snappy reply, Sachi speaks up from across the table.
"She's got a date with Bepo, Captain," the man says, grinning at Kyra in the gap beneath the bill of his poofy cap and over the top of the dark sunglasses he wears constantly. The rest of the table dissolves into laughter again as Kyra scowls and uses a careful whip of magic to jam the cap down low over Sachi's face. She shoots a hesitant glance at Law and almost cringes at the look he directs at her. The pleasant relationship between bear and sorceress amuses the hell out of captain and crew alike, which is seriously annoying. To her, anyway; Bepo doesn't really seem to care.
"I wouldn't want to interfere with that," Law teases, his foot once again brushing against her calve and moving up almost to her knee before she shifts away with a scowl. "So you'll come to the infirmary directly after breakfast for the weekly check-up we discussed."
Kyra almost chokes on her tea. Damn it, she's forgotten all about that. And what the hell does he mean 'discussed'? He ordered her to come find him for a check-up once a week until he's satisfied that she isn't going to drop dead because of the weight she lost after the war at Marineford, when she was in a coma for two weeks and stuck on a liquid diet. There was no discussion involved - Law gave her an order and then he kissed her like she's some kind of godsdamn hussy and he thinks he has a right to, the fucker.
What if he tries to give her a shot again? Kyra breaks out in a cold sweat at the mere thought. How can she be sure what he might try to inject her with? Will her magic stop him from doing so? Will it still protect her? Can she protect herself if it doesn't? Oh gods, she can't go back in that fucking infirmary; he'll try something, she knows he will, she can't give him the chance. What should she do? Her room isn't secure anymore, this is Law's ship so he'll have keys to any of the doors that have locks on them, so where can she go to hide? Where can she go to be safe, where he can't get at her with his needles and his medicines and the toxins that burn like fire in her veins and the chemicals in her throat and his hands -
Tanned fingers close firmly around the girl's wrist, snapping her back to reality as she realizes that she's managed to dump her tea all over her remaining pancakes due to the the tremors wracking her limbs. Law is speaking to her in a low, calm voice that doesn't quite reach her ears while the rest of the crew stares at her like she's some kind of freak. Even Bepo, sitting down the table with his specially grilled fish hanging tail-first out of his mouth, is looking at her oddly with those damnably hard to read features. Suddenly it feels like the room is shrinking on her, closing in until there is no space, no air for her desperate lungs, nowhere to hide from those eyes that watch her so fucking closely. She bolts to her feet, knocking her chair over and yanking her wrist out of Law's grasp as she hurriedly circles around behind him and practically runs for the door that will take her towards the hatch. Air. She needs air. She needs air and space and privacy and oh shit she's going to puke.
Kyra kicks the hatch open and flings herself over to the railing, gagging up her breakfast over the side. Even when her stomach is empty she heaves, trying to drag all the air in the world into her aching lungs and absentmindedly tearing at the skin of her wrist where
the needles go in. There's one in there, she can feel it, it's in there and it burns and she has to get it out.
She is suddenly jerked away from the railing and spun around, ending up facing her extremely displeased captain as he takes one of her wrists in each of his hands. This effectively stops her from getting that thing out of her, and Kyra fights against his hold ferociously.
"Let go!" she shouts, desperate to free her hands, desperate to remove the needle in her vein. "Let go, please, I have to get it out! Let me go!"
"There is nothing there," Law replies coolly and calmly, squeezing her wrists tightly enough that she winces in pain. "Calm. Down. There is nothing for you to be afraid of. There is nothing on this sub that will hurt you. Calm yourself and take deep breaths."
"But the needle -!"
"There is no needle."
Kyra gapes at him. No needle? What the fuck is he talking about? It's right there, it's in her wrist, Law's fingers are right on top of it! Surely he can feel the cold metal just under her skin? Surely he can smell the toxins in her veins?
"What're you -?"
"Kyra," Law interrupts sharply, turning her wrist in his grasp so that she can see the skin she had been scratching at. "There is - no - needle. Do you see a bleeding hole in your wrist where a needle was inserted? Do you see a syringe still jabbed into your arm? There's nothing there. Nothing."
She stares at her wrist, at the smooth unblemished skin that's only slightly red from where her nails raked over it. No insertion site. No syringe. No blood.
No needle.
Law slowly releases her wrists. Without his iron grip holding her in place, Kyra is free to sink down into a sitting position and bury her face in her shaking hands. Gods, what's wrong with her? She was so sure... and it was nothing. She had freaked out, made herself sick to her stomach, probably scared the hell out of the rest of her crew, and for what? The mage wonders for a moment what her chances would be if she throws herself overboard and tries to drown before the extreme embarrassment currently looming over her manages to kill her.
She feels so pathetic right now. She's supposed to be horrifically powerful. She can kill people with a gesture. She can heal herself without even trying. She brings people back from the dead, for Roger's sake! Why can't she even breathe anytime needles are so much as hinted at in her presence?
"Fuck my life," Kyra groans into her hands, mortified at the thought that now she has to walk back into that damn sub full of her crewmates after making a complete ass of herself.
"Is my magician back to normal?" Law drawls, sounding somewhere between amused and... well, not worried, it's fucking Law after all, but maybe a tiny bit concerned.
"Is my captain going to be really, really awesome and help me commit suicide at some point in the next five minutes?" she practically whines as a reply.
"Suicide is the escape of cowards. I don't sail with cowards."
"Oh, come on!" Figures he's going to refuse. Why would the crazy pirate want to kill her when torturing her every day is so much more fun? Bastard.
Kyra finds herself being hauled to her feet, pressed against Law's side while he drapes an arm around her waist. She tries to shield a little, extremely uncomfortable with this closeness and almost whimpers when nothing happens. Shit, her captain has turned out to truly be a cuddle slut. She's been in this position so often in the last week her body almost naturally molds into Law's freakin' side. Her stupid magic has turned traitor, of course, so there's no escape once the Dark Doctor gets his hands on her.
"Check-up," Law states firmly, dragging her sluggishly resisting form back through the hatch. Fate has apparently decided to be nice today, as the kitchen is deserted except for Bepo cleaning up at the sinks. Kyra turns scarlet to the roots of her hair and very carefully does not meet the bear's gaze as she lets her captain lead her towards the most hated room in the sub. The door is closed behind her with an audible click.
Five seconds and she's already shaking again, eyes carefully trained on the floor. This is stupid. It's just Law being weirdly overcautious because she brought a dead guy back to life a day after waking from a two week coma. It's not him. It's not that place.
Hands gently rub up and down her arms from shoulder to elbow and back. Law sets his chin in the crook between her neck and shoulder and whispers, "Deep breaths."
"Personal. Space. Jackass," she rasps, sucking in the ordered breaths and wiggling away from those hands at the same time. One of them presses gently but firmly into a section of her spine, steering her over to sit on the torture implements masquerading as beds.
Kyra can hear Law digging around a drawer somewhere at her back for a moment before he moves in front of her, a strange-looking contraption hooked into his ears under his fuzzy hat. The thing has some kind of length that trails from the ear pieces, ending in a metal circle that the surgeon holds in his fingers.
"What the hell are you going to do with that?"
Law gives her an odd look. "This is a stethoscope. Surely you've seen one before?"
Kyra bristles at the amused but wondering little grin on his face. "Whatever. Can we just get this over with? I hate this fucking room. I want to leave."
"Very well."
And the sadistic bastard proceeds to use his empty hand to pull her shirt up to practically her neck, a move which would leave her bare if not for the joys of a sports bra. The startled mage immediately smacks at him, amazed that her magic still won't help her out. Surely what he just did constitutes a threat? Law deftly catches her hands in one of his own, pinning them to her lap as he lays the cold metal circle against her sternum.
"Wha - wha - what the HELL are you doing?" Kyra squeaks, face burning in mortification. Gods, can this day get any shittier?
"A stethoscope is a medical tool that allows me to listen to your heartbeat," Law explains oh-so-calmly, as though he isn't standing freakishly close to her with her shirt rucked up to her armpits and his hand almost touching her bre- okay, that's enough of that line of thought. Kyra slams her eyes shut, trying to imagine herself elsewhere while her evil bastard of a captain laughs at her. After a moment, the feel of icy steel is removed; Kyra is just about to sag with relief when it reconnects with her back and startles a yelp from her.
"Deep breath."
She's getting really sick of him telling her how to breathe.
He listens to her lungs for a short period before allowing her to fix her shirt and putting the stethoscope away. She is relieved by this for all of three seconds before Law walks back up to her and wraps both hands loosely around the back of her neck, fingers entwined. It's so sudden that all she can think is... 'Choke me!'
Panicking, the girl forces her magic to wrap around her and teleports herself to her room. Almost immediately she realizes her mistake, blinking out of existence again to appear on the deck before her captain can use his damn key to barge in on her. Once more Kyra finds herself gripping the sub's deck railing with shaking hands, body trembling and empty stomach roiling. He put his hands on her neck...what if he felt the scars under all her hair? She knows her incurably curious captain has not seen them before today, despite her state of undress when she woke up at Amazon Lily. If he had the sorceress has no doubt there would have been endless prying questions about their origin.
Fuck it all, that settles it: she's not going in that damn infirmary again short of a mortal injury.
Kyra freaks again when her head is gripped tightly from behind, her body slammed into the railing by the male frame at her back as her curls are ripped aside.
"Why -" - oh fuck he sounds pissed off beyond belief - "- is someone's name carved into the back of your neck?"
Shit.
Law yanks her around, tossing her up against the wall by the hatch and pinning her in place with a glare and arms on either side of her head. Kyra's fucking magic is completely rebelling now; try as she might she can't seem to teleport, which means she's trapped a scant few inches from her captain, whose face is twisted in a look of rage so potent it is terrifying. She is trapped and helpless and embarrassed and scared, and if she cringes into the metal at her back any harder she's going to fuse with it.
"Answer me!" Law demands, but her terror has stolen her voice from her and all she can do is mutely shake her head.
Answer him? How is she supposed to do that? How do you tell someone that a man strapped you to a table, took a scalpel in his hands, and signed his name into your skin to mark you as his property?
It's nothing, captain. A monster under the employment of the World Government just gave me a permanent autograph when I was twelve or thirteen because he's obsessed with me. Really, no big deal. Right, that'll blow over real well.
He keeps her there for a long time, his eyes boring into her face while she gazes at the grinning Jolly Roger on the chest of his hoodie. She can't bring herself to look at his face, just knowing that if she meets his gaze she's going to find disgust hiding behind the rage. The frightened sorceress is unable to control a screech when the door jerks open behind her, pitching her forwards into Law and sending them both to the deck. In an instant she is off of him, scrambling to her feet and spinning around to see Bepo standing there with a truly terrifying snarl on his face and his nose twitching furiously. The bear whips his head around as though searching for something, turning and crouching defensively in front of his captain and the shaking mage now huddled in on herself.
"What's happening, Captain? Are we under attack? Is it the Navy? Captain?"
Kyra doesn't wait to hear the captain's reply. She bolts around Bepo and runs for her room, fighting a losing battle with the tears streaming down her face.
M-E-R-R-I-C-K. Seven letters carved into the girl's flesh.
Trafalgar Law sits in the dark galley on his submarine, feet propped up on the edge of the table and an unpleasant scowl on his face. The only light in the room comes from the tiny bulb over the stove, which Neil usually leaves on all night and which Law can't be bothered to turn off. He takes a swig from the bottle in his hands, having decided that he is in need of something a little different than coffee to put him to sleep tonight with his foul mood. Considering every time he closes his eyes he still sees that fucking name carved into his magician's skin, sleep is no doubt a long time coming.
He knows that she has many blemishes. He has seen her back, so corded with scar tissue that no normal healthy skin remains. He has seen the marks on her legs, which look like nothing less than spots where acidic chemicals have been allowed to drip onto her skin. He has run his fingers over her scalp and felt the evidence there as well, but this...
Kyra is Law's magician; she shouldn't have some other man's name permanently sliced into her, even though it's blaringly obvious from her reactions that the marking wasn't voluntary. He would quite like to find this... Merrick person, and perhaps carve a few things into him. Surely the infamous Surgeon of Death can cook up a few enjoyable tortures that he and Kyra could take turns inflicting on the man who has dared lay claim to something that belongs to him. It doesn't matter that the scar is several years old and was applied before Kyra had ever become Law's - she is now, and he takes exception to his things being marked with someone else's name.
Maybe he can convince his magician to get that tattoo of his Jolly Roger she has asked for over this other man's name. He can numb the area so it won't hurt as much, since the scar goes right up the length of the neck until just under her hairline and stops barely above her shoulder blades. A tattoo right there without some kind of general anesthetic would hurt like a bitch. Although, it would be an excellent way to test Kyra's level of pain tolerance...
"Can I have some of that?"
The Dark Doctor looks up to see the cause of his mood standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of long flannel pants and a baggy shirt. Her curls are comically mussed, as if someone has purposely ruffled them into chaos or she's been tossing around in her bed. Those bags under her eyes look particularly dark on her pale face in the scant light from the single tiny bulb. This is the first he has seen the girl since the fiasco of a check-up; she'd shut herself up in her room afterwards, hiding in her bathroom and refusing to come out even for lunch or supper.
Law jerks his head, indicating that she should come in and sit.
Kyra collapses into the chair she always sits at, folding her arms on the table and letting her head fall onto them with a thunk. "Can't sleep either, huh?"
He does not answer her question, instead choosing to place his bottle of saké next to her elbow. "Nightmares?"
Her laugh is completely without humor. When she raises her head and looks at him, the surgeon notes the slightly glassy quality of her eyes and knows he is right without her having to say a word. Kyra grabs up the liquor and takes a healthy gulp, scooting it back over to him once she's done.
"You've mentioned that it's stupid to drink alone," she mutters.
"I'm flattered that you remember," he teases, smirking at the dark look she shoots him. Law does so enjoy teasing this woman. He is always guaranteed to extract an amusing reaction out of her, and now that he doesn't have to worry about being strangled or thrown through the walls by her powers, the risks are almost nonexistent.
"I remember plenty of stuff I'd like to forget," the girl retorts glumly, wiping the grin from her captain's face. Yes, with all those permanent marks on her skin he can imagine what kind of 'stuff' she would like to purge from her memory.
"We'll be diving in the morning," he informs her. "You may come with me to explore once we get to Fishman Island." This is a blatant attempt to change the subject, but Law doesn't care. He knows that Kyra doesn't exactly want to continue the previous line of conversation anyway, so it's a win-win. "I want you with me in the control room tomorrow as well. We might need that shield of yours if we run into any problems once we get deeper into the sea. Can you create a shield around a large object like this sub and maintain it while we move?"
Kyra nods in the affirmative but makes no verbal reply. She is staring off into space with a rather pinched look about her. Whatever she's thinking about is obviously not pleasant, and Law wonders what exactly her nightmares tonight consisted of.
"Who is Merrick?"
The question is out of his mouth before he even bothers to consider the ramifications. It seems as though his time spent treating the idiocy known as Monkey D. Luffy has had an adverse affect on him. Or the booze he's consumed may have tampered with his brain-to-mouth filter a little, one or the other. Words spoken cannot be taken back, however, so Law has no choice but to deal with the consequences of his thoughtless question.
He doesn't have to wait long. His magician bolts up from her seat, eyes flashing even in the poor lighting as the walls tremble ominously. She strikes out at him, her fist coming to within inches of his nose before he grabs her wrist to stop her. Water sprays around the room as the faucet in the sink suddenly shoots off. At the same time the cupboards all swing open and fling their contents to the floor. The other hand soon makes an attempt on his person, only to be thwarted so that Law finds himself sitting in his galley with a furious woman looming over him, both wrists locked in his grip. Kyra tries to pull back; Law twists her around, yanking her down and caging her in his lap, back against his chest as she snarls like an animal. He keeps her pinned, trapped in a parody of a bear-hug until she sags against him with a hiccupping sob. The galley is by this time a total catastrophe - canned food and water and shattered dishes have been thrown everywhere, and the light above the stove has gone out.
The girl in his lap is soft and fragile, trembling against him soundlessly as the pirate holds her to him. He puts his face in her hair and inhales deeply, savoring the scent of lavender and steel that assails him.
"Stop that!" Kyra commands, her voice shaking just as badly as the rest of her body. "Don't ask questions about him, don't treat me like a fucking possession, don't touch me! I don't fucking belong to you, jackass! I'm not your - your -"
She flounders, obviously looking for a terrible enough description before snapping, "I'm not your next fucking whore!"
Law ignores this, mostly because he absolutely hates being ordered around and she's just given him several orders as though she were the captain. It would appear that it is necessary for him to remind her of her place on this sub. He doesn't intend to hurt her - much - but there is no reason he can't frighten her a little bit while having some fun himself.
Sadly, that thought has barely crossed his mind before that shield pops up between them so strongly that it knocks Law's chair over as it forces him to release the girl. He hits the floor while Kyra throws herself away from him, not stopping until she's crouched in a corner on the other side of the table with her head in her hands. The bottle of saké is, regrettably, smashed on the floor next to the horizontal pirate captain as he blinks white spots from his eyes.
"Oh, finally!" Kyra moans from her corner an instant before she teleports in that bizarre way of hers, disappearing as though she were never there and leaving Law alone on the floor in the wrecked galley.
Kyra huddles in a corner in her room, clutching a pillow to her chest and shaking. Her magic swirls around her, tendrils reaching out to stroke and caress at her bare skin. It has saved her yet again, coming back to her command at last the way she has hoped that it would.
Protect you. You are safe. He will not hurt you.
She clutches the pillow closer and fights back tears. Gods, Law had her in his lap, he could have done anything, raped her, killed her -
He will not hurt you.
Well he sure as shit hadn't been trying to sing her a fucking lullaby -
You misunderstand. His. You rebelled. He wants your submission. His.
No! She doesn't belong to anyone, dammit!
You are his. He is yours.
Law is a freakin' monster. No better than him. They all want the same thing, he doesn't give a shit about her, he just wants her powers, he's dangerous and she's going to bail the first chance she gets. Kyra should have just taken Straw Hat Luffy up on his offer and stayed with him. At least Straw Hat is too naive for the kind of things Law could and probably will try to do to her. As soon as they hit the first island in the New World, as soon as they get to a place where the World Government and their Navy dogs won't be able to find her, she's leaving this damn sub and disappearing.
Gods, how can she be so stupid? Kyra has allowed herself to start trusting Trafalgar Law, she's grown close to his fucking pet bear, his whole damn crew is in love with her breakfasts, and she let her guard down around the man! He's a man! A pirate! You can't let your guard down around men! You can't trust them! How could she have forgotten even for a minute what happened to her the last time she put her trust in a man? Did those six years of torture and experimentation really fail to permanently brand that into her brain?
She's such a fucking idiot.
No. Just his. Need him.
And the little voice she's come to associate with her magic has apparently gone bat-shit insane, too.
Not like them. Not like him. Your captain will keep you safe. Stay with him. Trust him. Let him in.
NO! She can't do that! She's going to leave at the first New World island come hell or high water!
Scared. Overreacting. Stay with them. Stay with your captain. All but the jilted one will protect you now. Stay.
Oh gods, her freakin' magic is practically crushing on Law. She's so screwed.
The door to her room creaks as it is cracked open. Kyra lifts puffy eyes to see Bepo's head peeking around the door, staring at her with his nose once again furiously twitching. The bear cautiously steps into her room and softly closes the door behind him. He looks different - he is not wearing the orange jumpsuit she always sees him in, nor the boots usually wedged on the set of paws he actually walks on. More than ever he looks like what he is: a talking polar bear that walks around on its hind legs.
Kyra doesn't move or ask him what the hell he's doing waltzing into her room in the middle of the night. She just lowers her head to hide her face in the pillow she's squishing in her grasp. She doesn't give a shit what the bear wants. Maybe if she ignores him he'll go away.
But no. Of course that isn't what happens. When does anything go the way Kyra wants it to go?
She stiffens all over when furry limbs lift her up and cradle her to a warm, non-human body. A deep rumbling is rolling out of Bepo's chest as he sits back down with her in his lap, almost like the sound a cat makes when it purrs. He sits with his back against the wall and arranges her in his lap so that when he lowers what are actually his front legs, they intersect firmly over Kyra's torso from shoulders to hips. She finds herself being pressed back into soft, warm white fur that seems to engulf her from all sides.
"You don't have to be scared," Bepo informs the shocked mage, whose magic has apparently decided to go on holiday again already seeing as how she's sitting in the lap of an animal that could probably swallow her whole. "Captain won't let anything happen to you. He looks out for his crew. He'll keep you safe."
"What are you doing?" she squeaks out, halfway between terrified and dying from happiness. Her inner child is squeeing with glee at being held by the giant talking teddy, but another part of her is just waiting to be eaten and or mauled.
"You need to sleep. You haven't gotten any sleep since we left that island with all the women. You drift off for a few hours and then have a nightmare and don't go back to bed." Bepo rattles all of this off in a calm voice, as though it isn't strange in the slightest that he should know this when the rest of the crew doesn't. "It's not good for you. Captain doesn't sleep much, but you don't stay awake all the time by choice. If I'm here to keep the nightmares away, will you try to sleep more? I know you're scared, but you smell funny because you're always so tired and if Captain's taking us to Fishman Island tomorrow like he planned then you'll need lots of sleep tonight. I can lay down and you could use me as a pillow? Captain takes naps on me all the time. I wouldn't mind."
The mental image of the Surgeon of Death snuggled up with this giant teddy bear, snoring away with a thumb securely in his mouth, is almost enough to make Kyra smile. Her body relaxes almost of its own accord, simply too tired to fight anymore. Bepo is right, she hasn't had more than a couple hours of real sleep since leaving Amazon Lily and the insomnia on top of finishing her recovery from the war at Marineford has zapped her. She's exhausted, her mind is frazzled, and it's getting harder and harder every day to think straight. Every time she closes her eyes, she's back with him in his labs, needles in her arms and scalpel cutting into her as he strokes her skin and laughs.
I'll be looking for you too, lovey. Watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike. And when I find you... and I will find you... I will never let you go again. You're still mine, lovey. You will never escape from me. Remember that, lovey dearest...
How is Kyra supposed to sleep with that hovering over her head?
The sorceress can feel sleep pulling at her now. Her eyelids droop with fatigue until only slits are visible beneath them. She hazily bends her elbow so she can grip a handful of Bepo's fur, holding onto the bear almost desperately.
"Don't leave me alone," she rasps, right on the edge of unconsciousness. The bear rumbles against her back, tightening his hold slightly.
"I won't. Just go to sleep, okay? You'll need it for tomorrow. Go to sleep."
And Kyra does, nose-diving into blissful oblivion with a sigh of relief.
A/N: Please review. Beta'd by Tomas the Betrayer.