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@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? ❞