Chapter Text
Newly Named Warlords of the Sea - Pirates in the Navy!
Roci sets something on fire intentionally for the first time since the hospitals he once razed in the name of family. The newspaper groans and crackles as his brother’s freshly immune name is consumed in flame.
It’s too late, anyways. Law stares unseeing at the bar counter beneath him, dead-silent ever since the printed words had been read aloud by Makino, who got the News Coo every week. His foggy expression sends Roci back to memories of the worst of his Amber Lead, when he was too sick to remain lucid longer than a precious few minutes.
Makino silently sets a transponder snail in front of him. She doesn't give empty platitudes, not for this.
Mihawk picks up before the first ring quiets.
“I saw the news. My ship will be moored at the island by sunrise tomorrow, Rocinante.”
The immediate assurance breaks loose a cracked cry from Roci's throat. Shanks’ crew politely turns away best they can to lend him some privacy.
“Fuck, you're perfect. Let me - let me get somewhere quieter.” He scoops up the snail in one arm and his trembling son in the other and stumbles upstairs to their old room before his walls can fracture completely. The whole bundle of person and snail bits slides down the closed door to the planks beneath.
“Talk to me, Mihawk. Please. Law’s not doing good right now. He isn’t - he’s not here , you get it? I’m barely holding on. Doffy can do whatever the fuck he wants now, Hawk. ”
Mihawk asks, somewhat rhetorically, “Did you read the rest of the paper? So can I. Breathe with some amount of regularity, if you please.”
Roci absently follows Mihawk's directions. He watches Law's back for a minute, assessing the frequency of the rise and fall. Neither of them are hyperventilating, but when he coaxes Law away from his side for a second he has to meet those empty eyes again, tinted just a bit angry at the mention of Mihawk's perceived selling out.
“Would it perhaps be more beneficial for me to-”
A barrage of solid knocks interrupts Mihawk. Roci shuffles off to the side, unblocking the door for Luffy, of all people, to come in. Roci drags the fabric of his shirt across his eyes to dry them somewhat, embarrassed at the idea of crying in front of a kid that isn't his. “The newspaper made Traffy sad and all not-here-y. So I'm here to be here-y for both of us,” Luffy explains in his own way while squirming in between Roci and Law. He wraps Law in his arms five times over.
“Shanks’ fledgling has joined you?”
“Birdie!” Luffy shouts. The transponder snail's face tugs down in a very distinct frown at the nickname, but he bears it.
Roci soothes a hand across Law's hair, noting the way Luffy's crushing pressure is actually… helping? Law looks at Luffy with deep pain, but he's looking. Luffy seems like he's physically tethering him to the present through sheer force of will.
Law presses his forehead to the steady beat of Luffy's little heart, takes shuddered breaths for a spell. He thinks about asking to actually pop out and hold his heart - it's helped him calm down before, morbid as it may be - but using his power sounds actually fucking awful in his fragile state.
“Traffy, you gotta wait til you're seventeen to leave.”
Strong brows furrow. No one ever really gets used to Luffy's bouncing conversation patterns. “What?”
“You've got the look in your eyes saying you're gonna run. But you gotta wait, ‘cause Ace and Sabo ‘n me all gotta wait too ‘cause we promised and it's not fair!”
Law glares. Hard. Thirteen year old Law would have eviscerated someone for trying to delay his revenge plot. As it is, Luffy's rather convincing teary puppy dog eyes brush back the red in his vision.
“Somehow, the boy's advice may actually be found advantageous.” The Mihawk snail (Snihawk?) looks distinctly displeased at having to agree with Luffy. “This option presents us with almost a full year to gather intel as to the cracks in his operations, spanned wider as he wades through the new waters of duties as lord.”
“So promise you won't go early!”
A deep sigh relaxes some of Law's frazzled haki. “Fine. I promise I won't leave until I turn seventeen, but the minute I do, Doflamingo is free fucking real estate.”
Luffy nods, appeased. “Can I help fight Flamingo?”
Again, the idea of having to share in the success of Doflamingo's defeat is revolting at first, but Law has seen Luffy improve over the past two years. He's growing stronger exponentially, and Law understands raw potential when he sees it.
“Yeah, sure. You probably won't want to, though, because when I fight him it will be when I have a completely airtight plan, one you'll have to follow to the letter.”
Luffy wrinkles his nose at that, features scrunched in. “That sounds stupid. But I wanna help with your dream, so okay!
Roci and Mihawk, clearly forgotten by both boys despite them being in the former’s lap, catch up with each other quietly. Mihawk is a stupid worthless vampire of a heartbreaker, by Law's standards, but the saccharine smile he brings to his dad when they go on their gross candlelit dates (stalked by at minimum all of Roci's official boys, if not joined by the three mountain brothers) is alright by him.
“Oi, dad. Luffy's gonna help us defeat Doflamingo.”
Roci chokes, and the Snihawk nearly follows.
He tries to grab for a good reason to tell him no other than just screaming “ No, recruiting that nine year old to fight a warlord is not a good idea, my beloved, usually intelligent son,” but the intense looks on the boys’ faces bring him pause.
Luffy's will is strong. They're both too young and frail right now, but two D's teaming up just might upend the heavens as they stand.
A thought strikes Law. “If you're not setting sail for another eight years, then you sure are making me wait a long time. It'll be a journey to meet back up, too, since I'll be in the North Blue tracking information.” Despite the complaints, there's no mention of backing out on Luffy. He understands this, clearly, and smiles so wide he must be using his devil fruit to stretch his grin.
“I'll be super strong when you come back, I promise!” Luffy emphasizes his words by squishing Law further in boa constrictor rubber. Law rolls his eyes with as much vitriol as he can imagine, but the tiny voice of a smile on his face ruins his grumpy facade, just a bit.
Despite everything, Roci mirrors his son. Doflamingo is free to terrorize the seas, but they're smiling. It feels like a victory over him. At the same time, Roci's close-lipped smile speaks just barely of bittersweetness. He was too weak to do anything to help Law, too wrapped up in his own sadness. Luffy got him back in the moment and happy in five minutes, tops.
“Alright, dearest?” Damn Mihawk and his observation haki. Law and Luffy make twin retching sounds at the pet name.
Roci stores his irrational jealousy for another day. Or never. He'd really rather not spend any longer analyzing how he feels insignificant compared to a preteen.
“Yeah. Yeah, we're all gonna be alright.”
Law turns his little whisper-smile up towards his dad. Luffy unravels from Law exactly as long as it takes to wrap around both of them instead, triggering a hacking cough from Roci at his sudden lung compression.
Mihawk politely waits for Roci to stop dying quite so hard. “Assuming you are not bested in single combat by a boy not yet in his double digits, I'll see you in the morning, Rocinante,” he says, and then the Snihawk goes to sleep, signaling he's hung up.
Roci puts away the transponder snail. He wipes his face down in the little sink attached to the bedroom. They elect to eat dinner outside, charring tiger over a massive bonfire as they pile up in a messy approximation of a circle in the trodden-down grass.
Donquixote Doflamingo becomes a Warlord of the Sea. The world keeps turning anyways.