I'm still a little overwhelmed by all those positive responses to this story. Honestly guys, thank you all so much. It's truly flattering to see that so many of you enjoy this ficlet.

Since I've managed to finally plot out the entire story thoroughly, I will try and update as much as I can, but as I said, please don't be disappointed if an anticipated update does not come as quickly. I'll try and keep up though ;)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed and please enjoy the next Chapter!

A faint beeping echoes through the great halls, ear piercing and highly annoying.

"Yes?"

'They're alive.'

"Eh? Alive?"

A grin tucks at the corners of his lips while he looks down at the receiver of the Den-Den-Mushi in his hand.

'You've failed. There is a reason why I asked you to take out those two first.'

"Yeah, yeah. No big deal, I'll find them. Didn't think I'd have to put Law on my agenda again though."

'You better do. Don't underestimate Kid.'

"Pff."

'I mean it. We don't know the full extend of his powers yet, you better be careful.'

"We'll see."

The receiver clicks silently and he leans back in the soft cushions. Alive, eh. The grin grows broader. He might have known.

Law's hands remain steady though he pulls a face every now and then. He sits on the worn out couch down in the living room of their makeshift new homestead and solely by the looks of that thing, one can tell that Kid's bone-crushing weight had not been good for the frame and the padding.

The wound on his leg is neatly cleaned and disinfected and now ready to be stitched up for good. He had Kid find him a sewing kit, disinfected the needle over a flame for a while before drenching it in pure alcohol and now he sits, seemingly delighted to finally be able to patch himself together.

A few feet away, Kid sits on the kitchen counter, watching curiously. He occasionally takes a sip from a large mug filled to the brim with whisky and a little splash of coffee – his idea of an Irish Coffee probably, Law hadn't dared to ask – and his bare feet are dangling low above the ground, obviously constituting a perfect target for the tabby cat. The small animal sneaks up on the naked toes again and again, attacks and buries its small, pointy teeth in Kid's big toe and begins to hiss and puff itself up when the Captain kicks it across the room in return. He doesn't kick too hard however, Law had noticed with a small grin. Never hard enough to actually hurt the cat.

"You sure that's making it better?"

Law looks up when he hears another shrill 'meow!' coming from the kitchen and then follows with his eyes, as the kitten flies across the room one more time, before directly charging at Kid's feet once again.

"I can hardly make it worse. Unless I'd saw my leg off."

It's somewhat mesmerizing, Kid finds, as he watches the clean, skilled suture running down Law's shin. He hates admitting to Law's skill, refusing to acknowledge anyone being just nearly on par with him in anything, but he can't deny Law's talent as a Doctor. It looks painful. And he's not sure if he could stitch himself up like that, but of course he doesn't say that out loud. Instead, he gives the cat another kick and ignores his already bleeding and scratched toes.

"How's your concussion doing?" Law begins a weird form of small talk while once again operating on his own leg.

"I never had a concussion."

"Oh right, you were genuinely retarded. My apologies."

Kid kicks the cat straight into Law's direction but misses. And Law knows that he misses on purpose because he doesn't want to mess up his work. He has no idea why though.

A few stitches more and the large cut in his leg is patched up. It looks horrible but Law seems confident that it won't leave any scars. Of course it won't. He's a most talented doctor after all and content with his work.

"Come over here."

"Why?"

"Can you just come over?"

Kid hesitates for a second before he hops off the counter, nearly stepping on the kitten that hisses at him and scurries underneath the table before Kid can kick it again. He approaches the Doctor a little warily and Law chuckles at the thought of the massive Captain actually being a little afraid of him. Well, not really, but Kid's way of being afraid, meaning cocky but careful.

"Press down here for a second", Law points at the end of the suture where both black string ends stick out, looking fairly disgusting.

"What, properly press down?"

"Yes, properly press down. They can't lose the tension. Understood?"

Kid sits down on the ground before Law and, for some odd reason, the Doctor relaxes immediately. Kid towering over him does have something threatening, simply because the guy is massive and standing straight alone makes him look intimidating.

The redhead presses his index and middle finger on the stitch and he can tell that Law clenches his teeth but he doesn't protest. The Heart Captain is skilled and quick at applying bandages and he does so with ease. Kid watches the slender, skilled fingers. He eyes the dark tattoos on the tanned skin and tilts his head a little.

"Fascinating?"

"Huh?"

He snaps back and looks up straight into Law's face.

"You can let go now."

Kid does and Law quickly finishes the bandages. He seems content, eyeing the well-treated wound for a moment before he nicks Kid's mug and takes a good gulp. The pure taste of Whisky burns his throat and he coughs and pulls a face before handing the mug back to Kid.

"You're crude. It's not even noon."

"You just can't hold your liquor."

He flinches a little when he suddenly feels Law's warm fingers on his face and he squints up with crimson eyes, as Law begins to examine the cut above his brow.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking at how messed up you still are. You didn't disinfect any cut, did you?"

"No."

"I remember telling you to."

"Yeah, I remember forgetting about that."

Law doesn't even bother with a reply. He drenches a cotton pad with alcohol and simply presses it on Kid's forehead, causing the Captain to hiss and snarl at him. Unimpressed, Law continues his treatment, cleans out the cut and ponders over sewing it up as well before deciding against it. Kid somehow seems to heal well, much better than Law does.

A little disgruntled, Kid endures the treatment, venting his anger out at the cat a little by flipping his fingers against the tiny pink nose poking out from underneath the couch, sniffing curiously at the mug in his lap.

"I called it Catnip, by the way."

"You gave it a name?"

"Sure. Everything needs a name."

"Hm."

"Even you got one and you're much worse than a kitten."

"Not really", Kid scratches his index over the woollen fabric of the carpet, causing the cat to playfully attack. "People in my village just called me Kid when I grew up, 'cos I didn't have a proper name. Started listening to that after a while. More or less."

His fingers keep on working on the cut but his grey eyes carefully watch Kid's features. The redhead doesn't seem fazed by the fact that nobody ever bothered to give him a real name. He generally doesn't seem fazed by anything and for the first time, Law wonders what made him turn so cold. A lack of a name maybe.

"There you go. The cuts on the chest look fine."

Kid meets his gaze and for the first time since they began to travel together, Law smiles at him. It's not the usual sneer, not the smirk. It's a genuine smile, friendly and somehow extremely unnerving. It confuses Kid and he doesn't dare to follow him, as Law gets up and hobbles across the room to get himself a mug of Whisky as well. Possibly because his legs feel like jelly right now.

Killer silently whistles through the holes in his mask again. He's looking up at the ceiling, flat on his back on the bed and he tries hard, not to follow the trail that Penguin's fingers leave on his body while he examines the numerous wounds once again. For the first few days, the whistling had been somewhat intriguing but by now Penguin finds it merely annoying. He would never inform Killer about that though, trying his best not to be rude after bringing him down easily once before.

"So?"

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?"

"You're getting there."

Penguin sits up on the bed again, eyeing the many cuts and bruises quite content. Some would leave scars, he's sure of that but it could be much worse. The massive amount of old scars all scattered over Killer's body scares him a little though.

He's well aware that Kid's crew is made up of brutes and reckless men, always quick to jump into a fight and he has witnessed Killer's loyalty towards his Captain and a tendency to take blows that were aimed at Kid. But a few years on the seas would surely not mess him up like that. Not considering how skilled Killer was at fighting and dodging attacks.

Killer flinches a little, when he feels Penguin's fingers running down a particularly thick scar beside his chest. It's old and looks pretty disgusting and somewhat ashamed, the Kid Pirate attempts to pull the covers over his body but Penguin wouldn't let him.

"Broken rib?"

"Yeah."

"Must have been a pretty severe beating. Ribs don't usually tear through skin so easily."

Killer remains quiet and Penguin realises that he has tried to dig too deep.

"I'm sorry."

He begins cleaning up the emergency kit, chucks cotton pads and used bandages into the bin and only pauses when he feels the somewhat pleasant weight of Killer's hand on his. His fingers are scarred as well, Penguin notices only now.

"Can you just… the clatter hurts my head."

"Could be because of your retarded mask, you know."

"You're still pissed at me, aren't you?"

"I am indeed."

Penguin blinks surprised when he hears a dark chuckle coming from underneath the mask. He had never heard Killer laugh before and it doesn't fit the masked man at all. All those scars and muscles and the brutal aura he has, but this laughter sounds cheerful and innocent and it lulls Penguin's mind somehow.

It takes a minute. Maybe two. And the Heart Pirate joins in, laughing softly.

Neither of them has ever felt so odd before. Far away from any place they would ever call home, separated from their crews and at the hands of the rival, beaten and unsure as to what the future might hold. And yet here they are, sitting next to each other on the bed of a shabby hotel room, laughing way too carefree for anyone in their situation.

That night, Killer feels the mattress next to him shift and he holds his breath while Penguin quietly slips underneath the blankets. He's lost the bonnet and the boiler suit, wearing only light pants and a muscle shirt that seems somewhat way too big for him.

Without Penguin knowing, he quietly watches him in the darkness of the bedroom and Penguin would never see the look of surprise on Killer's face, when the Kid Pirates finds the black tribal tattoo extending way down Penguin's neck. It reaches down his shoulder, across his collarbone and even down his back, disappearing underneath the fabric of his shirt.

Killer has seldom been this curious before but he doesn't dare lift the fabric to take another peek. He exhales deeply and turns, pretending to be fast asleep while he lazily wraps an arm around Penguin's waist and pulls him a little closer. A reflex, no more, no less. And Penguin quietly grins against the pillow before he closes his eyes. Way better than sleeping on the couch, that's for sure.