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“Throw me over the side now,” Law says, voice thin and wavering as he looks out the nearest porthole to the more merciful and cold sea. “I demand to die with dignity.”
A cold and hard hand grips him by the back of the neck, and Law is helpless to stop himself from being picked up and dumped back in the bed he’d just fought his way out of. Kid looks down at him absolutely unimpressed. “I don’t want to hear your bitching. You’re a doctor, you should know how this goes.”
The bed jumps under the weight of Kid dropping down to sit next to Law. The large fingers of his metal arm spreading out over Law’s chest and using an insultingly little amount of force to keep him flat. Law bites back a cough and glares defiantly up at Kid. “I am a doctor, and I am perfectly fine.”
Law spits out the last few words through his teeth, hoping the rasp as the cough tries to escape will go unnoticed. Futile, he knows, because Kid is stubborn and not as stupid as most believe him to be. Law still tries though because he is sick. He knows he’s sick, and he hates the way that makes him feel. The way he loses control of his body a thing that feels all too familiar to him even after all these years.
The fever, the pain, the weakness almost feel like they never left him at times. All that’s missing is the faint taste of iron on the back of his tongue and Cora fretting over him at every wince or hitch of breath and he’ll be a kid dying of something incurable again.
Law is almost grateful to have Kid around despite the damage he’d done to Law’s door to get in. The man is mean and practical in a way that Law won’t ever be able to mistake as anyone else even if his fever spikes up enough to make him delirious.
“Fine my ass,” Kid presses down harder and the increased restriction rips the cough out of Law. He curls up slightly under the force of the deep, wracking outburst. Eyes squeezing tightly shut until it ends and he lays there panting. Kid, the utter ass, rolls his eyes as he lets up. “You're so fine your own crew had to call me in because you’re running yourself to the ground for no damn reason, and they’re too weak to pin you down.”
Traitors. They must have been planning this for days. Kid had taken off for the East weeks ago so turning back to find Law’s submarine would have taken time and effort on the part of both vessels. It's one of the clearest signs showing how out of it he is that he'd never noticed the change of direction or the multitude of lies everyone has been feeding him lately.
Law will bet anything it was Shachi who spearheaded this little mutiny. He’d been the most vocal crewmate the past few days about Law getting some rest. Laying down, wrapped up in a blanket, and sipping hot tea like they don’t have a time sensitive agenda they’re running behind on. Law sets the question of what to do about that aside for later consideration. For when he doesn’t have Kid manhandling him in a way that is entirely too patronizing for Law to enjoy.
“I have a cold, not a death sentence,” Law says when he finally gathers his breath enough to speak. His voice is louder and stronger now that his throat has been temporarily cleared. “They’re simply overreacting.”
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you?” Kid asks. A rhetorical question as he doesn’t bother elaborating or waiting for an answer. He’s up and across the cabin in two strides. Grabbing a sack near the door that rattles before returning. “Alright, you’re taking one of each of these,” pill bottles fall to the bed and Law recognizes from the label that they’re from his own infirmary, “and I dare you to refuse.”
Kid is grinning at Law as he stands above him with arms crossed over his chest. The sharp and bloodthirsty grin he gets when he’s about to violently rearrange the world to suit his whims. It’s often the last thing people see before being crushed by a wall of scrap metal. It’s a threat and a promise that Law will be taking the medicine. Willingly or not, and Kid will not at all be upset if it’s the latter.
Law takes a slow, deep breath –as deep as his beleaguered lungs and clogged sinuses will let him– and fixes Kid with his own look. The cold one that has cowed countless marines and stupid pirates over the years, and followed more than a few foolish people to their graves. The pills are the correct ones for his symptoms, and he would have eventually retrieved them himself. He knows how to treat a cold after all.
But he’ll be damned if he lets himself be ordered to do it by Kid of all people. Occasional ally and more frequent lover or not, Law will not roll over so easily. He pulls on his power and throws a Room up as he surges off the bed. “Don’t tell me what to do!”
~
Bepo watches the Polar Tang rock in the sea more erratically than the choppy waters can account for. The occasional blue flash of a Room flickering unsteadily through different portholes all the explanation needed for what is happening inside. There is no sound to be heard except for when the water displaced by the Tang crashes against the hull of the Victoria Punk. “I’m sorry, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”
“You’re about three days late for that,” Penguin snorts from where he leans up against the rail beside Bepo watching the fight going on below them. His chin propped on his hands and hat tilted just right to block the last glares of the sun as it slowly sets.
“If you were just going to regret it you shouldn’t have called for backup, Bepo,” Shachi chimes in from his seat on the deck. Not nearly as interested in what’s going on between the two captains as he is with figuring out how to best cheat Heat out of the card game they’ve been playing since the crew boarded the Victoria for their own safety.
“Hm,” Killer hums, a near silent agreement from Bepo’s other side. The masked man gives off an air of amusement as the Tang rocks violently to one side, close to rolling, and Bepo cries out in alarm. He pushes away when the submarine rights itself with a wobble and flicks at one of Bepo’s ears. “Captain’ll get yours sorted. No need to stand here and worry over them.”
“I’m sorry!” Bepo rubs his ear and gives one last look over the railing before turning away to join the rest of his crewmates. Killer is right after all. It’s already been done and worrying about what might happen is useless, especially when he’s been promised there’s honey mead somewhere on the ship.
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