Oh, Nothing Invasivedon't Worry!

　　　　　❝ oh, nothing invasiveーdon't worry! ❞

　not that rosinante was curious to know such things anyway, but law would probably, definitely, without a doubt try to stab him again if he ventured anywhere close to 'too personal' territory. it wasn't as if there was any moral dilemma stopping him now; he was a doctor. any wounds he inflicted he could just fix later. plus, the ex-marine wasn't exactly versed in all the different ways law had learned to use the devil fruit he gave him all those years agoーbut he had learned law had adapted it to be used during combat, which could guarantee danger in his future if he wasn't careful.

　❝ i'm just... surprised. law's still the same snappy little loner that i remember him being when he was a kid, y'know? getting him to talk about anything too personal is like pulling teeth. i literally had to almost bleed out in front of him to see him cry for the first time. i know he's a sweet kid inside, but... it takes a lot of pushing to get there. you're clearly someone really special to be able to do that. ❞

"Ah-" Little did the man before her know that while Nami appeared incredibly confident in her relationship when she was with Law, that she very much was the type to blush when it came to discussing their relationship. Perhaps the allied pirate captain's combined embarrassment and enjoyment at being one another's is what had Nami along his lap or throwing her arms around him. Little things like grasping his hand in public and stolen kisses while everyone was watching was just an added perk.

Of course his Cora-san would want to know more, but it didn't mean she was prepared in any way to talk about it. Pushing past the flush of her cheeks she nodded. "I don't usually kiss and tell, but I might be willing to make an exception depending on the question."

　❝ because no one else is apologizing to you, so i figured you'd want to hear it from somebody. ❞ especially if that somebody is the one who keeps putting you through this.

　the blonde prayed that the kid didn't pick up on how sympathetic his tone was (something that had lead to arguments about being patronized and 'treated like a baby' in the past) as he turned his back and busied himself cleaning up the remains of their campsite. he dug his heels into the base of a tree until he was satisfied with the grip, shimmying halfway up the trunk until he could undo the rope suspending their rations of food higher up out of reach of the wildlife.

it fell with a thud, and him down with it. he tried not to wince at the pinecones digging into his back. it's fine. he was fine. totally part of the plan. from his face-up position on the forest floor, he rolled his eyes at the new question.

　❝ no umeboshi, ❞ he promised bitterly. ❝ are you still mad about that? ❞

rosinante didn’t appreciate how law spoke about a favorite snack of his with the same guarded suspicion as if the plums were poison. not at all; to be honest, it stung, especially when he shared them with the intention of giving law something he thought was a treat. he loved umeboshi when he was law’s age, what gives? and why did criticism of your favorite things always seem to hurt more when coming from children?

　❝ y’know… for someone feral enough to stab me through my ribcage despite being warned my brother would skin you alive if he found out, i didn’t expect a little sourness to turn you into a such a regular, fussy kid. ❞

small  shoulders  were  slouched.  The  sterile  scent  of  disinfectant  with  the  subdued  hum  of  medical  machinery  mingling  with  the  hushed  whispers  of  medical  staff.  he  could  remember  everything  because  it  was  a  repeat  in  each  one  he  was  taken  to.  every  hospital  they  visited  was  the  same.  people  would  look  at  him  in  disgust  and  would  avoid  him  like  the  plague.  he  wouldn't  say  aloud  but  it  hurt.    his  life  was  limited.  the  clock  would  tick  as  if  taunting  him.  his  pale  complexion  and  splotched  skin  ;   a  deadly  reminder  of  the  poison  running  through  his  very   veins,  sapping  away  at  his  life  each  passing   day.  his  dreams  often  leading  to  what  awaits  him,  a  dark,  cold  &  empty  void.  he  sighed,  a  weariness  that  seemed  to  reach  into  the  depths  of  his  soul.  He  ran  a  hand  through  his  short  hair,  fingers  tangling  in  the  strands.   His  stern  expression  softened  momentarily  as  he  observed  the  blond.  the  genuine  remorse  in  his  words.   The  silence  between  them  was  palpable,  the  ravenette's  expression  was  a  canvas  of  fatigue,  lines  etched  deep  into  his  face  from  the  relentless  battles  he  had  faced  within  his  own  body.  

  the  small  breath  seemed  to  carry  the  weight  of  his  burdens.  His  fingers  absentmindedly  traced  the  white  splotches  decorating  his  arm  ❝  you  don't  need  to  apologize...  there's  no  point  to.  i  dont  know  why  you  keep  trying.  ❞   Law  finally  spoke,  his  voice  calm.  perhaps  it  was  acceptance  of  whats  to  come.  gold  irises  bore  into  his.  the  sound  of  grilled  fish  sounded  promising.   ❝  ...you're  not  gonna  slip  an  umeboshi  in  it  this  time  are  you?    ❞

send me questions you have about my character!

anything and everything. favorites. thoughts on people, on events. what they would do in a certain situation. how things would be different if something had/hadn’t happened. simple questions, complex questions. have at it!

i love ya kid!✌🏼❤️‍🔥

@rubctosis ❤️'d for a thing.

　　　　❝ look. i’m sorry about the… hospital, thing...❞

　deja vu. rosinante had to have opened conversations with this exact line before. more than once or twice. more than he wanted to think about. his body language always ended up being the same, too; heavy sighing, scrunched mouth, and eyes averted whether or not law was too upset to look in his direction.

he never felt guilty about what he did to the doctorsーoh, absolutely not. fuck those guys. they're doctors; if there was anybody qualified to treat a couple bloody noses or some first-degree burns, it was doctors. plus, they were already in the perfect place to have their injuries treated, too, so the spy wasn't going to lose sleep over it. they'd be fine. but, although he hesitated to admit it aloud out of fear of bonding with the little shit and therefore making it that much harder to convince him to leave the family behind altogether, he did feel bad for subjecting law to it.

the visits clearly stressed him outーwhich wasn't ideal for anyone, but especially not him. normal, healthy people got sick all the time from high stress, so he couldn't imagine its effects on a terminally ill kid whose body was slowly but surely falling apart. thus, all rosinante could do was slip into this same routine over and over again: sheepish apologies & half-assed bribes.

　❝ what can i do make it up to you? you want... grilled fish for dinner? you wanna sleep in a cushy bed at an inn tonight rather than camping outside? ❞

later I’m gonna have him remove all the asbestos too