Chapter Text
"I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."
—Tennessee Williams, A Streetcar Named Desire (1947)
He happens upon the kid by accident at a gas station mini-mart on a Friday night.
What is he, fifteen? The man had only stopped in for a pack of cigarettes and a handful of energy drinks to survive through another grueling night of clinical reports. This kid hanging on to the door to the bathroom for dear life is just another thing in his way to a sip of gratifyingly terrible caffeine that will help him get this night over with and maybe scrape by another day on no sleep. When the kid stumbles, his natural instinct to stop smiling about his potential conquest and help someone who was possibly in need of medical attention takes over, so he scowls, sighs, and moves. His impossibly long legs stride across the floor quickly, and his groomed chin falls down when he speaks. "What's wrong?"
"Gonna throw up," the kid says exactly two-point-five seconds before he does just that and passes out, leaving a mess for the establishment. The man quickly checks his pulse and makes sure that the kid's sitting up against a wall while he reports the accident. He fishes through the kid's pockets blindly, hoping to find a wallet for identification or a phone for contact and falling short. His vitals aren't anything awful, and judging by the smell of him, the kid's just blackout drunk.
Once the man sighs, he feels the burly owner of the joint tap his shoulder. "You know this kid?"
For a moment, the gray-eyed man contemplates shaking his head no, sending the kid to the hospital in a pricy ambulance, or reporting him to the police, but when he looks at his hair matted on that washed-out face and the rips of the kid's clothes, something tugs at his black heart. "Yeah. I'll take him home with me."
The station mart's owner nods obligingly, agreeing to help the man with dark circles under his gray eyes tug the kid to his car. He even tells the young man helping the teenager not to worry about his things – says that he'll pick up the tab somehow. The younger male thinks that perhaps kindness repays kindness, or maybe he's just got good luck tonight. As he watches the drunken teenager sleep in his backseat with a careful eye, he thinks that perhaps his luck is only so-so.
With a long-suffering sigh, the man dials a friend. "Hey, Bepo? Could you fill in for me at the hospital tomorrow morning? Kinda got an emergency."
He's in the middle of warming up vegetable soup for himself and making a fresh pot of coffee when he hears the kid stir on his couch. The man approaches and smiles calmly, hoping that the kid doesn't freak out and think he's been kidnapped or something. "Hey." He holds up a hand and puts down his bowl so he can check the kid's temperature. "You're gonna wanna re-hydrate if you think you can keep your eyes open long enough."
Black eyes blink back at him, unsurprised. It's almost like he goes out, gets plastered, and gets picked up by people at gas stations every Friday night. "Okay." The kid tries to stand up, but the man encourages him to remain seated to avoid sudden vertigo. He strides to the kitchen for a glass of water and strides back into the living room to hand it over. "Thanks."
"No problem." He goes back to the kitchen to start the microwave. "What's your name, kid?"
"Luffy," the kid answers, blinking the drunken stupor out of his eyes. "Monkey D. Luffy. Yours?"
"Law. Trafalgar Law." The surgeon-to-be hears the dinging of the microwave finishing and rifles through a drawer for a spoon. "Hungry?"
"A little." With that quiet admittance muttered through a wince, Law opens his dishwasher to take out a bowl, fill it with vegetable soup, and microwave it for his impromptu guest. Once he returns with two steaming bowls, he motions for Luffy to scoot over and joins him on the couch. The kid blows on his soup tentatively and sips at it with grateful noises.
"You don't have a cell phone?" It's rare in this day and age, but not unheard of.
Luffy slurps before answering. "Lost it. How'd I end up here, anyways?"
"You passed out at a gas station around the corner from here." The owner of the apartment scratches his goateed chin with the handle of his spoon. "I wasn't sure whether you'd want to go to the hospital or not."
"I really didn't. That was nice of you." Luffy beams brightly, soup dribbling down his chin. Law snorts and reaches to his side table for napkins.
"Do you have anyone you can call?" Law ladles a few more spoonfuls of soup into his mouth before continuing. "You didn't have your wallet on you either, so I couldn't figure out your address and call you a cab."
"I lost that, too. I only know my brother's number, but he won't be able to come get me until morning at the earliest. He works the graveyard shift at a textile-supply store." The teen replies easily, and Law wonders if maybe he'd just been reading too much into the kid's situation at the gas station mini-mart.
"How'd you wind up there, kid?" Luffy quirks an eyebrow at that. "What?"
"You can't be that much older than me." The teen scowls with the spoon hanging off of his lips. "And it's a long story."
Law finishes his soup and leans back into the couch, crossing one leg over the other in a bow with a smirk. "Well, I'm twenty-four, for the record. Drunk brats that can't stumble home by themselves get called whatever I want. Besides, if the situation's like you said, we've got some time to kill."
For whatever reason, the response makes Luffy laugh. "We're only six years apart!" Eighteen. Older than I thought. "You're interesting, though, so I'll tell you."
Luffy spends the better part of an hour detailing his adventures from the evening that began at seven p.m. Apparently, a few friends he'd met in freshman year had just turned twenty-one, and they'd invited him to celebrate with them, knowing full well that he was lightweight, but also the life of the party. At some point they'd managed to sneak him and his other friend into a bar—"I think that was around eleven," Luffy notes absently—and he'd gotten into a fight with yet another friend of his, a chef and bartender who was supposed to be off that night. He'd lost his phone around that time.
Once the fight broke up, the girls of the group coerced the boys to meet up at a different house to settle down and maybe sleep off their drunken stupor. Luffy tosses names around – Sanji, Zoro, Nami, Vivi, Usopp, Robin – Jesus, it's really too many people to keep up with as he keeps talking. Eventually, the story comes to a close, as Luffy had declared to one of the girls – Vivi, maybe – that he was going to get a snack from a convenience store near her house. By the time he'd arrived at the mini-mart, he was equal parts starving and nauseous, his eyes were crossed, and his wallet was missing. He stumbled in to use the restroom, remembered falling down, and the rest, Law knows.
Law blinks incredulously for a few moments after the kid finishes, and then has a good laugh. "You're ridiculous. Don't you think your friends are looking for you?"
"Nah." Luffy licks his spoon and flashes a winning smile. "This sort of thing happens all the time."
Luffy falls asleep after Law encourages him to drink another glass of water. The med student turns on soft music and gathers his energy drinks, determined to knock out some notes and file organization. He keeps the coffee pot on, too, knowing that the carbonated caffeine will only last for so long. Law sighs and flips open his computer before placing it on a stool.
The man gets his work done in spurts, so his fingers itch every hour on the dot and he congratulates himself by stepping out to the porch and having a cigarette. Near seven or so, when he takes another break and scratches at his wrists, he steps outside again, mourning the humid morning heat. His sleeves are getting too long for spring here, and he hates it. Once he rolls them up, reaches in his pants pockets for a lighter, and stares into the distance, he hears the veranda's glass door slide open, and he turns around to face his bleary-eyed guest.
"Hey." Law waves before he notices that Luffy's attention isn't on his face at all. When he follows his eye line, he smiles. "Like 'em?"
"That's cool…" The teen breathes moments before blinking and turning up to his face. "Did you do them yourself?"
He starts at that, nearly dropping his cigarette. "Yeah, I did…do they look that bad?"
"No, they look amazing!" Luffy grins. "Way better than Zoro's, actually, and he did his too, so I was just kinda guessing. That's so cool." How this kid has so much energy after his bender last night at the crack of dawn is a mystery to the older male. "You have more?"
"Yep." Law smiles and snuffs the cigarette out on his ashtray before pulling down the collar of his shirt. "Loads, really, but I had somebody's help for the ones on my back."
"Woooow," the teen breathes in amazement. "I want tattoos and piercings, too." His dark gaze lingers on Law's ears before sighing. "My gramps would beat the shit out of me, though, so I'll have to wait another year or two."
Law hums in acknowledgement and digs in his pocket. "Speaking of your family, you need to call your bro, right?" After popping a piece of gum into his mouth, he leans against the handrail. "It's seven-something. Is that late enough?"
"Oh yeah." Luffy perks up and sticks out his hand. "Thanks for remembering, Torao!"
The man twitches at the misnomer. People get his last name wrong all the time, but this certainly takes the cake. Somehow, he gets the sense that correcting the kid won't be worth the effort, so he picks out his cell phone from his right jean pocket and hands it to him instead. He stands watch while Luffy chats animatedly, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he hears the man muttering at his younger brother through the phone. There's another voice, too, but Law just waits, catching bits and pieces of their conversation with amusement. After all, Luffy's absolutely delighted in front of him, and his happiness might as well be contagious, even to the grumpy insomniac.
Near the end of the phone call, Luffy starts nodding vigorously before he returns the phone to the med student. "Ace wants to talk to you!"
With one raised eyebrow, Law accepts his cell phone back. "Hello?"
"Hey, sorry about my little brother." Ace sounds sincerely apologetic, and Law is taken aback by how different the brothers' personalities are. "Thank you for not leaving him out on his own. He's kind of an idiot."
What an understatement, he thinks, but he replies while shaking his head, knowing full well the other male can't actually see his gesture. "It's fine. He wasn't horrible company."
"You wouldn't happen to know if he got too sick or anything, would you? I mean, he sounds fine to me, but you know how hangovers can be." It's a strange assumption for a stranger to make of him, but he does, indeed, know how shitty they can be.
"I checked his vitals after he threw up at a gas station last night—ah, I'm training to be a doctor, by the way." He notes that as a form of weight to his words. Luffy, beside him, gasps in awe, poking him with eyes full of questions. His brother sounds pleasantly surprised on the line, too, and Law clenches up, feeling trapped by the energy of the siblings. "I'm making sure that he stays hydrated, and he rested for a few hours. I think he'll be fine."
He can briefly hear Ace chatting with somebody about how his little brother befriended a doctor, and Law feels Luffy tug at his arm before the elder brother clears his throat and speaks again. "Well, I can head over to get him in just a few minutes. Will you text me your address?"
Law asks if this is his cell phone number, and Ace says yes before thanking him again and hanging up. Luffy excitedly talks before Law can pull his phone off of his ear to type the message. "A doctor?! You're a doctor? That's so cool!"
Luffy's so bright and happy that the med student feels like he needs to pull up his arm to shield his eyes. "Well, not yet. I'm gonna be one in a few more years." He has to complete his residency before he earns all of his papers.
The teen asks him all sorts of questions about what kind of doctor he's gonna be—a cardiothoracic surgeon…a chest doctor, basically—what he does at the hospital, how he has time for sleep around his busy schedule, and, distractingly, whether he can give himself tattoos there.
The bewildered man just decides to show him around the apartment, figuring that his rooms will explain things much faster than trying to answer all of his questions. While they walk, he texts Ace and waits for sweet, sweet relief.
Luffy's brother is really very kind. He'd turned up a few minutes later than he'd promised in the text with a basket of fruit and a gift card for gas. Freckle-faced, strong-jawed Ace looks like he could take a guy out, but since his dopey little brother got taken care of, he's all smiles and gratitude. Eventually Law finds himself smiling at the brothers' exchange, mostly because Ace is scolding Luffy and elbowing him in the side, dragging him to the door and forcing him to apologize to the medical student for disturbing his evening. Law holds up a hand and promises that everything was fine in the end, no worries.
Once Luffy waves goodbye, trailing after his brother and sliding behind him on a glistening motorcycle, Law breathes out quietly. The apartment is quiet again, and life continues as usual. He goes back to reports and texts Bepo to let him know that he can come in and cover his afternoon shift since his friend covered for him in the morning. Bepo makes a noise and warns his friend.
"It's fine. You've covered for me more times than I can count. Get some sleep, why don't you?"
Law actually yawns, as if on cue, certifiably exhausted in wake of the typhoon named Luffy that had blown through. "You know, I might actually take you up on that," he says, and Bepo seems as surprised as he is that those words came from his mouth.