Alasse-M: it's not Sanji's place to be involved – and he's more concerned with escaping the rest of his food than what's happening to other people. It was convenient for him. As for Law, sympathy might be hit or miss as the story progresses.

DedicatedFan: Zoro's mind can only speak for itself – whether he's addressing the living or not, Kuina is definitely not someone anyone else can see. As for any hints of LawSan – well, it depends on how you see it! ;D Happy New Year!

: 5 :

Later that night, Sengoku and the others watched in heavy silence as Law was wheeled to his room by a visibly nervous nurse. The other patients were locked in their rooms, but were watching from their windows, saying nothing as the man was wheeled into his without explanation. Sengoku that he'd heard Ace snicker. The policemen set to watch over the patients for that night looked at each other nervously, obviously discomforted by the events of the past two days.

Law kept his head lowered so he wouldn't have to look anyone in the face, fists bunched tightly in the blanket over his lap. Around his head, from jaw up to the top of his skull was a white sling that acted as a wrap for the setting of his jaw – it had only been dislocated, which had bothered the doctor looking him over. Law had then grinned at him easily after that, which led to Sengoku's suspicions that he'd only, somehow, injured himself. But that did not explain the other injuries – very real injuries caused in a very real assault.

Sengoku tried not to feel anything inside of him as he'd watched the doctor insert the sutures – he had to trust his own judgment based off evidence, facts, and Law still hadn't said a thing after their conversation, and refused to acknowledge Dr Hina. He knew there were bad apples on the force – he knew that Law had a way of convincing others close to him. But Sengoku hated the feeling that this was still an assault, and Law was still a victim.

Tomorrow morning was the earliest Dr Akainu would make it out to the island, and Sengoku had seen that Dr Hina was very frustrated with this. She felt that once that man set foot onto the mansion's floors, none of the patients would have a chance. Especially this one.

Dr Hina crossed her arms over her chest as she followed the nurses into Law's room. She helped pull back the blanket to his bed as the nurses locked the wheelchair in place and lifted him out.

He couldn't open his mouth to complain, but he made pained noises as they set him on his bed, prompting him to lay back. Dr Hina said nothing as they removed the wheelchair from his room and set it out in the hall, near Penguin's room. She held out a set of handcuffs, cuffing one of his wrists to the bedframe as he glared at her.

"Sengoku feels that this precaution is needed," she muttered darkly, avoiding looking at him. She kept herself steadfast on her actions, a little rougher than normal to prove that he was incapable of tricking her in any form. "It can't be helped, especially if you have nothing to say about last night's actions."

Frustration laced her words as she checked the lock. She gave the room a cursory once over, then turned to leave with the others. It bothered her as he chuckled low in his throat, giving away to muffled laughter. Glaring back at him, she slammed the door shut and wiped her forehead. It felt warmer than what they were used to, the air dry and heavy, almost like how it was in the summer.

"We are locking it down, for the night," she said slowly. "Tomorrow…Dr Akainu will be taking over. If you have any grievances…now is the time to express them. I've notified your families regarding your continued care, here, and…hopefully they'll receive the message by Friday."

"That name sounds real familiar," Ace muttered from behind his door. "Smoker used to talk of him real slow, like."

"Akainu is a man that is willing to make any changes necessary, even so far as to forego compassion or made progress," Dr Hina said slowly, fiddling with her fingers. "Things will change, here. I'm sorry."

"He's stricter?"

"He doesn't sound like a good guy," Luffy muttered, banging against his door with his knees.

"His methods are a little more harsher than ours have been. And unfortunately…this is all I can give you. I apologize. I wish I had been able to make more headway with the lot of you, but Dr Hina has done all she can for you. Akainu is over me. I just…it's unfortunate the way things have worked out so far, here. Tonight, all of you watch over each other. The killer, or killers, are still on the loose."

"This is bullshit," Sanji said from his room, straightening up to look through the window. "Because not only does that sound bad, it sounds like Akainu isn't any better."

"I will see you all in the morning, God willing," she said, bowing her head. She turned to assist with the orderlies and police officer to make their rounds through the mansion, her hand going to the ring of keys in her jacket. That left Sengoku standing there in the middle of the hall, fiddling with his pockets with reluctant action.

"It's up to God's hands, now, what happens next," he said with a low sigh. "We weren't able to make any headway regarding this morning's incident. The only person left alive refused to talk about it."

"Didn't seem like he could," Sanji pointed out.

"Oh, he can. And for right now, he's still a number one suspect. It was his MO down there that we spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning up."

From Law's room came a low, lazy chuckling. Ace hit his door with frustration.

"Then why is he allowed to be locked up with the rest of us?" he cried. "It's unfair that we're supposed to exist alongside this criminal!"

"Because his hands are clean every time we catch up with him. I'm sorry. But God will make it right. I'm sure of it."

"Don't worry, Ace, Jesus always watches over the good ones," Luffy assured him. "That's why we're still here. I think tonight we'll be fine. Because we're all together. And we can help each other."

"We're going to be murdered in our own rooms! We can't get out!" Ace cried. "We're not even allowed anything to defend ourselves, with! This is fucking unfair! We might be broken, but we shouldn't be treated like shit like this! An' it makes no sense a'tall that that jerk's locked up with us! He's doin' it, I swear he is!"

Sengoku sighed low. "I'm sorry. If it makes you feel better…I will be here, tonight. I will watch over you."

"That makes me feel better," Zoro said, nonplussed. "Older men usually go a lot faster than most."

"Right?" Luffy cried.

Sengoku wasn't sure what they were talking about, but since the patients started to calm themselves, he turned and made his way to the break room. He looked at the portrait of Jesus atop of the empty fireplace, and nodded at him.

: :

When the downstairs grandfather clock chimed twelve, Sengoku was startled awake. He was surprised to find himself in the chair facing the wide doorway of the room, a book in his lap. He had been reading over Smoker's journals of the patients he'd dealt with, and had found more reason to like the other man. Instead of labeling the individuals as cases, he'd spoken about them fondly. He detailed personal notes on their individual illnesses, and added in the things he saw of family visits. Sengoku would not look at the island's wealthy Vinsmokes in the same light, but he'd always felt Judge was a shady man. This journal gave away serious issues Sengoku could use to form a case with on Sanji's behalf.

But after reading through the rest of Smoker's notes, Sengoku was uncomfortable to admit that nearly every man here had some sort of father issue. Abandonment, abuse, trafficking – Smoker had been close to pinning down the roots of each man's case to their father contributing in some way. Because it hit so close to his own home, Sengoku felt uncomfortable looking any more into it. He wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep.

He rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses and made to close the book to go put it away when he realized that something was different about it. While he was sleeping, someone had marked all over Smoker's notes with a black crayon. What was alarming was that he had to turn the book around to read these rugged scrawls – someone had written over the pages standing that close to him, leaving him unaware.

'I'm not mad, daddy.'

'Daddy always leaves me.'

'Am I not good enough?'

Hand shaking, he turned the page, finding pictures of grinning faces – some had devil's horns, others with halos. Another page had a full rendition of the devil beckoning someone into a dark doorway. Another had an arrow pointed at him – or was it pointed away, now that he had turned it?

He looked up, immediately wanting to confront Law – that grinning face was something Sengoku was sure he'd do. But his eyes immediately locked on the dark figure standing in the doorway. There wasn't enough light for Sengoku to see his face, but he could see that it was one of the patients. Once the man realized Sengoku was looking at him, Sengoku saw the whites of their teeth as they grinned wide. Then that person stepped back into the hall, disappearing from his view – stepping back into the darkness.

"Hello? Who's there?" Sengoku demanded, setting the book down and looked for the candle nearby.

As soon as his voice rang out, there was a frantic dash down the hall – but it was an odd sound, for the footfalls were definitely that of a child's. Not even a moment later, a boy laughed before a door slammed shut, causing the walls to ring. The picture of Jesus on the wall had been turned upside down, he noticed. There were black handprints on it, where the person had touched the frame in order to do so. 'Save us!' was written in charcoal underneath it.

Bewildered to hear the sound of a child, Sengoku started off in that direction. He wondered where the nearest police officer was – the hall was devoid of their presence. The doorway to the stairway was shut tight, and there was a candle on top of the table at the end of the hall. He looked in the direction he'd heard the boy laugh. It was impossible – not even Luffy's voice was that young.

He made to step out to investigate when the sound of one of the dining room chairs shifted over the floor.

"Be quiet!" someone hissed urgently. "He'll hear us."

Sengoku strode in that direction. He looked in to see an empty room, but he crouched with effort to look underneath the table. The candelabra on the shelf rattled a little, as if someone had reset it. As he straightened up, one of the crosses on the wall shifted slightly to tilt. He saw the movement, but he figured it was only a mouse scurrying about. It made more sense. One of the chairs shifted again, and it was the one nearest him. He was facing the room in such a way that he did not miss the movement, and he knew no one was standing there to do so.

"Shh!" someone whispered again to his right, and the hairs on his skin stood straight up. Holding the candle up as he walked into the room, he felt as if he'd just intruded onto something. The room was hot, the air heavy, and sweat beaded upon his skin. But he felt unnerved, as if he were witnessing something wrong. The room gave him nothing – he could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs, and the sound of someone snoring. He heard the rustle of blankets, the creak of a bed as someone moved. Not an alarming sound.

The window rattled gently, as if the pane were being prompted open. As he looked in that direction, stepping in further with the candle up, he expected to see someone there. But the light gave nothing to him.

"Hell works faster," a boy said too close to his ear, and Sengoku reacted with a hard jerk backward, gasping tightly. As he stumbled to catch himself, the boy laughed before the sound carried off down the hall once more. All at once the doors opened, creaking noisily on their hinges. Sengoku had enough time to recover his step and rush out, just in time to see the office doors swing wide open. The medical ward down the hall even had their doors moving in unison. Then, all at once, they all slammed shut. The reverberation from the movement caused his heart to jump against his ribcage.

"Shh! Quiet!" that earlier voice hissed, an impatient whisper.

Sengoku was sweating hard this time, aware of building noises behind him. They were multiple voices mumbling at once, a buzz similar to that coming from a bee's hive. He couldn't pick out individual phrases or words – just that there were many people whispering at once. Jerking around, wax spilling over his hand, he looked down the hall towards the patient's rooms. The candle on top of the table flickered out, leaving behind just a wisp of smoke.

"Fucking bitch!" someone shouted angrily, the floor thumping with heavy footfalls. Sengoku whirled around, expecting to see someone coming up to him. He heard harsh breathing, a faint whistle of someone exhaling hard through their nose. He felt his clothes flutter with a hot gust of wind, bringing with the noise something that smelled stale. The footsteps rumbled around him, but there was no one there that he could see.

"You'll see me then!"

"Lord, have mercy on us. Christ, have mercy on us. Lord, have mercy on us. Father all powerful, have mercy on us," he muttered hastily to himself, unable to think straight.

"GOD ABANDONED US TO THE LIVING!"

Something knocked heavily on a door, but he couldn't even pinpoint where it was coming from. Panic made him breathe hard, struggling to comprehend what was happening around him. Sweat soaked the collar of his shirt, and the candle shook in his hand. Once he realized that the knocking sound was closer than he thought, he started turning in that direction. One of the patient doors was opening, hinges creaking noisily.

"You're a bad person," the boy whispered in an admonishing tone.

"Who's there?" Sengoku called out, voice trembling slightly. He jerked backward as the door slammed shut, locking. He started moving in that direction, fumbling to look for the keys Hina had given him. "Who's there? Law? Come out here."

As he neared the door, he heard the low chuckling coming from the only person that found amusement in terror.

"Don't go," a man said, but it was tinny, coming from far away. Sengoku reasoned that it was only part of the phenomena, and dismissed it. All fear had left him at that moment, replaced by indignant anger. Fury. He jerked the door open to look into his room.

He was shocked to see that Law was sleeping deeply, still handcuffed to his bed. But that didn't stop him from striding in and grabbing him by his shirt, shaking him awake. Law was so startled by the action that he moved to yell, but the heavy wrapping around his jaw prevented that. He could only give a clenched sound, looking at Sengoku with clear confusion.

Sengoku stared down at him for several moments, then looked away. He let go of his shirt, reaching down to jerk on the handcuffs. They clanged on the metal bedframe while Law looked at him with disoriented shock, unsure of what to do or say. Sengoku realized that this man had not been awake – but he was very sure he'd heard Law chuckle. He would not forget that sound.

"This is you, isn't it? You're doing this!" he accused sharply, glaring at the man.

Law used his hands to gesture incredulously before the knocking came again. Hearing it, he looked at Sengoku for answers, Sengoku looking away from him. He listened for any sign of that knocking belonging to his men, but nothing more followed it. He shifted away from the bed, looking around the man's room. It was nearly devoid of furniture, belongings. A set of clothes sat folded on the floor, along with a pair of loafers. A Bible sat against that. To the left of the bed was a milk crate, and there was a single sheet of paper sitting there.

Because it seemed so out of place, Sengoku moved towards it, Law watching him with utter mystification. He followed Sengoku's movement as the older man bent and picked up the paper, looking over the contents with a tensing jaw. He then looked at Law, Law looking back at him with confusion.

Showing him the paper, hand trembling, Sengoku asked, "Did you do this?"

Law squinted at the content, then shook his head. He held up his hands to show that he didn't have any access to the charcoal used to make the picture. He watched Sengoku warily as the man stared at him distrustfully, then looked back at the picture. He turned away from Law to look over the milk crate, searching for the materials necessary. Someone had drawn him with his head cut from his body, real blood staining the ends of his neck. It was still wet, glistening in the candlelight. It was only a stick figure, but his features were there.

He turned to address Law again when he realized the man was standing right next to him, kitchen knife in hand. He felt horrendous pressure in his throat, and he stumbled backward to inhale with a shout. But as he did so, he tripped over the milk crate, catching sight of someone else standing behind Law, just on the other side of the bed. Sengoku reached up to his throat, feeling it spill with his own trachea, blood slipping through his fingers.

Law covered his mouth to muffle his snickering as Sengoku hit the floor, struggling to breathe. The other person did nothing. Sengoku couldn't even see who it was; the candle he'd dropped had rolled away from him. He couldn't make a sound as Law handed the knife off behind him, and took the step necessary to stiffly stand close to Sengoku. Panic, pain, and horror caused millions of thoughts to flash through Sengoku's mind. Eyes wide, struggling to put the pieces together, he watched as Law held up his ring of keys.

He tugged at the wrapping around his head in order to speak, saying shortly, "You should've been nicer to me."

: :

Ussop lifted his head. He heard the strange sound of a wheelchair being pushed down the hall, and he took a few moments to let the noise wash over his thoughts. Sleep left him sluggish and disoriented, but once he realized what the sound was, he brushed a hand through his hair. He wiped his face then sat up, wondering what was going on outside. He didn't hear any voices belonging to the orderlies or nurses, and wondered what Law did this time. He walked up to the door very quietly and looked out the window in time to see the wheelchair coast by with no one in it. Startled, he pressed his face against the mesh wiring over the window, seeing light sputter to life down the hall.

Maybe the officers on duty were just playing with each other to pass the time. The wheelchair turned into the wall with a clatter of metal and rubber, and Ussop clenched his teeth. He turned his head to look at the end of the hall and realized he was looking at Law's smug expression.

Ussop shoved away from the door, panicked. His breath caught in his throat, sure he was only having a nightmare. That man was the killer, he was sure of it. How did he get out? Where were the policemen? Where were the orderlies, the guards?

He heard the slow knock on his door, and jerked away from it, shivering.

"Knock knock!" a boy called out, and Ussop's panicked breathing caught in his throat. He was sure he'd heard a child, but his mind had to be playing tricks on him. There were no children in Wickem. His skin crawled.

"I said, knock knock."

His throat tightened. He jerked back towards his bed and jumped back onto it, shaking. He didn't dare call out for help. He thought that if he did so, Law would definitely kill him. Maybe the man would just leave him alone. After all, Ussop had done nothing to him. He avoided him. Ussop jerked the blankets over his head, scared witless as he sat cross-legged within the center of his bed.

He listened for more sounds of the man moving about, but it had gone silent. He mumbled a prayer, over and over, hoping for some divine intervention. Something in the hall shifted – something heavy. It continued to make a slithering sound, as if something were being dragged over the floor. Ussop didn't want to know. If Law had killed others, he didn't want to know. If he just kept himself quiet and still, the man would leave him alone.

Hands in prayer form, Ussop mouthed the words repeatedly to himself, listening to the sound paused outside his room.

He felt eyes on him. Not just one pair, but many. As if several people were standing around his bed, looking at him. He squeezed his eyes shut, and struggled not to utter any scared noises, not wanting to attract attention.

"I said, knock knock," the boy said right outside of his blanket, and Ussop screamed despite himself. Several different sets of hands pulled at his blanket, hitting him. He flailed and screamed, throwing his arms out, trying to escape. The boy laughed, and Ussop rolled off his bed, hitting the hard floor with a tumble. As he managed to escape the blanket, he saw that his room was completely empty. His hard, frantic gulp for breath was the only thing audible around him, and he looked to the window to his room, expecting to see someone peering in.

The floor underneath him rattled fiercely – as if something massive were knocking on it.

"Who's there?" he cried – but not in response to the boy.

"Boo!" a man said from behind him, causing Ussop to jerk around to look. He thought he'd see Law, expecting the man to be there, but it wasn't. His mouth fell open as he saw the whites of teeth in a widening grin, the faint light from the window giving Ussop little to use. But the shadow straightened away from him, keys rattling into the lock of his door as someone made to unlock it.

Terror leapt through him, his heart racing a thousand miles an hour. He climbed to his feet, flying over his bed to escape the shadowy man standing in the corner of his room.

"Say, 'Boo' who?" the boy whispered from his right.

Ussop screamed again, running for the door. He pushed hard before jerking back, tapping on the doorframe three times. Then pushed again, racing out into the hall, nearly stumbling into Law as he stepped aside. Ussop went straight for the only source of light in the hall – the medical ward.

Law looked after Ussop's fleeing form with amusement, finding it difficult to remove the key from the lock. Once he did, he waited for the room to empty. Someone mumbled a prayer to Jesus to watch over them.

"God is only correcting his mistakes," he said low, moving to the wheelchair so that he could push it ahead of him. "I will not be punished for following His command. His will leads me. I will not be punished if no one is left to speak."