Yearn

Characters: Law. Rating: K. Warnings: None

Homesickness was something Law would never admit to. Even as a child, he'd been fine away from home (that one sleepover didn't count; Lami had been sick so of course he should have been with her, not off curled up in the corner of a classmate's bedroom. It was simply his duty as an older brother. So what if he never went on a sleepover again?), and through the teenage years there had hardly been a place to call home.

Well, in hindsight that wasn't strictly true. Bepo and Penguin and Shachi and the Polar Tang had been where he lived, where he was safe. It just took his broken mind a few years to put itself back together enough to recognise that.

The point was, Law didn't get a heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach when he was away from his crew, not at all. The unease on Punk Hazard had been because Caesar had his heart and who knew what sort of mischief he could get up to with that?

The Straw Hats were a breath of fresh air when they arrived, smashing through all his plans with the same effortless grace as their captain had punched a tenryubito in the face two years ago. Law hadn't planned on making an alliance, but with his original plans well and truly scuppered (and yes, he had to give Smoker-ya and the G5 marines credit for their part in that), his options were suddenly limited. If he could just find a way to control that ridiculous force of nature that was Monkey D. Luffy…

So that plan didn't go particularly smoothly either, but in the end it worked and Law was sat on the edge of a celebration that really needed better timing – he'd even told Mugiwara-ya that Doflamingo would be on his way but the other captain had completely disregarded him – watching a crew that wasn't his own party in a way that was nauseatingly similar to the way his own crew partied, loudly and unashamedly. At least his own crew knew when was a good moment, though, he mused as he deflected Smoker-ya's probing comments with half-truths, already setting up the next stages of his plan.

If he was planning, he wasn't comparing the Straw Hats to his own crew. That wasn't fair to his own crew, after all. They were reckless idiots to be sure, but not quite to the extremes of stupidity exhibited by the Straw Hats.

It was hard to plan when he was being talked over as if he didn't exist, though. Sure, Mugiwara-ya had asked him what they were going to do, but then a switch flipped and he ignored the answer, instead charging off to go get breakfast – sandwiches, of all things. It was a little like how Penguin and Shachi went behind his back at times if they thought he was getting too hyper-focused on one thing, keeping the crew in line while Law plotted and plotted in his own head. But only a little.

Dressrosa was too much, full of chaos and memories and pain. Thoughts of his crew were all but forgotten in the face of his adversary, the man he'd successfully avoided for the last thirteen years whilst tracking with dogged determination, and for once he could see the Straw Hats without being reminded of his own crew. They shone differently – not brighter, because to Law no-one alive could shine brighter than the crew that kept him from falling apart completely, but differently – with Mugiwara-ya's smile finally being replaced with that one look Law remembered vividly from Sabaody, once again aimed at a tenryubito.

The Straw Hats partied like his crew, he mused in the gladiator's cabin when he was supposed to be sleeping but the pain in his arm was too distracting. They cheered like them, enjoyed life like them. But they didn't fight like his crew. The Straw Hats were showy, big moves and loud explosions and everything appropriate for a crew that had long since overcome fear. His own crew knew the value of subtlety, hit and run tactics honed from years of staying under the radar.

The heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach returned. Law attributed it to the healing wounds.

More parties, more celebration, with even more crews involved, and Law saw what he'd missed the first time. There was no hatted double act, dancing and cheering together as if they were joined at the hip. No mink, chugging alcohol like water until he keeled over, fast asleep but never drunk (Zoro-ya was far too unapologetic, and nowhere near furry enough). No high-pitched giggling as the inebriated sole woman took advantage of the situation to embarrass her nakama. No gentle giant watching from the side lines with a large grin (and alcohol-induced flush) on his face.

Finding a spot to valiantly try for some peace and quiet on the ridiculous ship that ferried them to Zou, Law finally admitted to himself that he missed his crew, looking down at Bepo's vivre card – ragged where he'd torn it in two to give Nami-ya her own copy what felt like an eternity ago – and watching it shift in greater and greater increments as they got closer to their destination.

Soon. He'd be home soon.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari