Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Law entered the room, his footsteps sharp against the sterile, white floor. At this point, this place had become his second home since last year or so; probably a bit more, he had stopped counting the days after a few months. It didn't help, anyway, just added to his sour mood.

He shut the door behind him, not bothering to listen to the light-clicking sound coming from the lock that didn't last even a moment. He grabbed the strap of his bag before letting it drop onto the small chair near the bed. He made sure to be careful; he had a computer in it, after all. The last thing he wanted was to have to go and beg Doflamingo for a new one just so he could attend his online classes.

He took a moment to just stand there, looking at the pale figure surrounded by machines and tubes lying in front of him. Cora-san... His benefactor, his guardian, the only person he truly cared for and he could trust.

His... everything, honestly.

He couldn't imagine a world where the blond man wasn't in it.

"Hey, Cora-san," Law muttered, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lips, though it didn't feel as sincere as he would have liked —it was weak, tired, dejected. His voice cracked a little, it happened more and more now, and he hated himself for it. He knew Cora-san wouldn't like to know that he was feeling so down; the man probably would have blamed himself for it, despite both of them knowing there being nothing he could have done. So, he always tried to greet him like he was just asleep, like nothing had changed, as if he was just about to wake up.

He wasn’t sure if it helped. Probably not. But he did it anyway.

Just in case.

Without waiting for any response, Law walked over to the window and opened it wide, feeling the cold air rush in and bite at his skin. The room had that stale smell, the kind that clung to the hospitals: disinfectant and sickness, a mixture that felt suffocating. He knew Cora-san would have hated it, more than the cold that was probably seething in his skin. Could he feel it? He wasn't sure. The man gave no indication that he was freezing or feeling anything else, really. But he knew that the other always hated being trapped in spaces that felt like they were closing in, —he was a giant of a man, after all— even if he couldn’t speak it anymore.

He wished he could bring him somewhere else.

Law inhaled deeply, drawing in the cold, fresh air that smelled so crisp one more time, even if it was just for a second. He couldn't leave it open for too long since it could make Cora-san sick and complicate his recovery. What would he do, then?

“Smells like death in here, doesn’t it? I guess I need to get used to it if I want to be a surgeon, right?” Law said, mostly to himself, though his eyes were locked on Cora-san, as always. He wasn’t expecting an answer, not that he ever did. Not anymore.

But he still made sure to talk to the man every day.

His fingers tapped the windowsill, nervous energy radiating from him. He hoped Cora-san couldn't tell that; he would never want the man to think that he was making Law uncomfortable, or some stupid stuff like that. That was exactly what he would do, though.

"Anyway... classes are still a pain in the ass. And this damn red-haired asshole I mentioned before keeps talking like he knows everything. We were put together in a group project, and I swear, he thinks he's the goddamn king of the world. I should've been the one running the show, but no. He just keeps bossing everyone around and doesn't listen. Total nightmare.” Law exhaled, shaking his head, a half-hearted laugh slipping out.

Cora-san didn't like hearing him cursing, he had berated him about it so many times; almost the whole time they had been together, for that matter. He wished he would do that now, too. Maybe then he would promise to stop. He really would have this time. “Not that it matters, I guess. It's just one class, right? Just a few weeks and we'll be done with it.”

He glanced over at Cora-san again, hoping for some flicker of life; despite knowing that nothing would change. A shift of the hand. A flutter of an eyelash. Anything. But, of course, there was nothing. Nothing but the rhythmic beeping of the machines. The artificial breaths that the ventilators inflated Cora-san’s chest in and out. Up and down. It was a sad imitation of life.

But it was all that was left. And he would be damned if he lost hope.

That was the last thing that was supposed to perish, right?

'Hope dies last' was how the saying went, if he remembered right. 'What a stupid yet true statement.'

Law sighed and walked over to the bed before lowering his body into the small, blue chair that had become a permanent fixture in his life. It squeaked under his weight as he sank down —at this point there would should be his ass-print on it. 

They were always on him, memorizing each part of him in his mind; comparing it to the past and noticing the changes, looking for a sign of life.

The room felt colder the longer he sat there, the silence sometimes being so unbearable that it made Law want to rip off his own ears. He hated this. He hated how there was nothing he could do. He hated how all doctors kept saying was that all they could do was wait. How long was he supposed to wait at this point? He just wanted to scream and cry like a little brat throwing a temper tantrum to get what he wanted.

"I think about topics I can talk to you, but..." His voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. "It’s just so hard, sometimes. I feel like I’m just talking to a wall. I don’t even know if I believe that you can hear me anymore.”

He let his words hang in the air before quickly dismissing them with a wave of his hand. The guilt came instantly, gripping him by the guts.

Fuck, he shouldn't have said that.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Please just forget about it, okay? It was selfish of me. I’m sure this is much harder for you. You can’t move, you can’t speak... hell, can't even open your eyes. You just hear the damn machines all the time, and the nurses coming in, doing the same thing over and over.” He bit his lip, feeling a tightness in his throat; a sensation he unfortunately had become familiar with over the months.

Gosh, he really didn't want to cry. Not here, at least. "...It must be boring as hell."

Law swallowed hard before continuing, he only had a limited time with Cora-san each day and he wouldn't let himself waste that time with some pity party. “I was thinking about going to the movies on Saturday. By myself, of course; can't let others see that I'm going to watch some kid's show, you know?" Ouch, that sounded cringe. Cora-san would have chuckled if he wasn't in a fucking coma, though.

"They’re finally doing a live-action movie for that Sora comic I liked back in middle school. You remember, right? I was obsessed with it for some reason. Bought every issue. Every figure. Spent all my damn pocket money on that crap and begged you for more.”

He chuckled softly, the sound hollow in the empty room. He could hear the other patients walking past their door, unaware of them; busy with their own suffering. In a way, it was comforting. At least it wasn't only them who were having a shitty time.

“I don’t even know what happened to all that stuff. It’s probably in a landfill somewhere, tossed out when we moved. Doesn’t matter, I guess. I don’t think I would have kept it anyway. I can barely remember the story anymore, or the characters.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes closed and thoughtful. “But… I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go anyway. I could use a distraction, even if it’s crap. A little bit of nostalgia. Who knows? Maybe I'll like it again so much that I'll buy all those crap again, fill your house with little boy toys."

He hoped that the man at least knew he wasn't alone, that he wasn't abandoned, that Law had been at his side since the moment he ended up here.

He squeezed Cora-san’s hand again, harder this time. No reaction. He didn’t expect one, but still. He had long since stopped waiting for a flicker in his eyes, for a soft breath, for even the slightest movement. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe it was just the desperate hope that if he tried enough times, something—anything—would change. What if it did change?

That he would open his eyes, turn his head, and give Law that goofy smile of his. The one he only did for him, the one that made him look so stupid and oh so happy.

The touch was cold—colder than it should’ve been; as if the blood was moving too slow, too little. He held it gently in his, but the skin was soft and the flesh almost jelly-like, as if his bones were slowly melting away with time. It was mostly the lack of muscle tone. It was the opposite of what it was before: full of calluses, hard, thick, and strong. As if it could lift anything.

Before this, the blond man always felt like bigger than life. As if there was nothing that could hurt him other than himself: burning his own hat with his cigarette, tripping over his own feet and falling down, cutting his hand while cooking...he had been a walking disaster from day one but none of those things had ever caused lasting damage.

Why did this, then?

Law carefully lifted Cora-san’s hand, cradling it between his own. He blew warm breath onto the soft, cold fingers, his chest tight with the aching hope that somehow, somehow, Cora-san might feel it.

"How is it?" He asked, looking up. "Is it nice?" He wasn’t sure if he was asking the question for Cora-san’s sake or for his own, as if by some miracle the warmth would make its way through the deadened nerves, through the frozen flesh.

He held onto it tightly, hoping, maybe foolishly, that the warmth of his own hand would somehow make a difference. “Can you feel this?” Law asked again, whispering slowly. “Can you feel my hand, at least? Can you feel me here?"

He was being so so stupid.

“I’m sorry,” Law murmured quietly, his thumb gently stroking over Cora-san’s hand, his own getting engulfed by the other's. Despite being twenty-one, basically an adult at this point, he was still so much smaller than the man. Cora-san practically towered over him when he was standing, ever since he had been a child and nothing had changed.

“I know it’s cold in here. It’s always too cold. I wish I could make it better.” He tightened his grip a little, pressing Cora-san’s hand between his own, holding on tighter. “I just… I just wish I knew what you are feeling right now. Then maybe I could do something, anything. Go beg Doflamingo if I had to."

But then he caught himself—what if Cora-san could feel it? What if he could feel that warmth, but it only served to remind him how cold the rest of his body was, trapped in that paper-thin gown, surrounded by the unrelenting chill of the hospital room, not knowing when he would get better, get up and return to his home? Wouldn't that be worse? Wouldn't he being unconscious be better, then?

The thought troubled him.

He didn't like it either way.

Back then, he had stopped Cora-san each time he did that, showing that goofy smile; it had felt embarrassing, especially when he did it in front of Doflamingo, his teachers or worse, his classmates. Oh, he should have appreciated them more. How he wished he could go back to that time and slap some sense onto his younger self, Don't be an idiot,' he would have said then, 'You have any idea how much this will mean to you?'

“You know,” he continued, looking at Cora-san’s face, his chest tightening, “I met someone new today. Well, more like he ran into me with his damn bike. The guy’s a disaster. I had to drag him to the medical office because he twisted his ankle when we fell. He was carrying a tennis racket, so maybe he’s some sports guy or whatever. Just my luck, right? ...Honestly, though, he wasn’t too bad. Kinda funny. But definitely an idiot. A rock would be smarter than him. He said he would get me food sometime later, though."

Law let out a quiet laugh, the sound a brief, hollow thing in the otherwise oppressive silence, much more like a snort. “He said that was the third bike he broke this month, cried that his gramps was gonna kick his ass. Serves him right.”

At that moment, the door to their room opened, and two nurses came in. They didn't acknowledge him; they got used to his presence at this point. He was more like a decore, a piece of furniture put there to paint a pretty picture for the patient, something in the background. Very much like Coras-san, though he resembled a doll more. They moved around the bed with practiced efficiency, one of them checking for bedsores while the other connected a piss-colored IV to his J-tube.

Law watched them, his eyes never straying from the monitors and the tubes connected to the blond. He had memorized the procedures by now, and could probably do half of it himself. Not that they would let him; though he did make sure to move the man a little bit from time to time, to make sure there were no wounds or pain or anything. The workers here were overworked, tired, and sometimes, in his mind, just didn't have enough time to care enough for each patient for too long.

He couldn’t risk Cora-san being overlooked.

Not that Doflamingo would let something like this happen, he was sure of that much, at least. He probably paid a pretty penny for his brother's stay here. The only good thing that came from that overgrown flamingo being so close to them.

The nurses moved on, as quickly as they had come, leaving Law alone again in the still room, the only sounds the faint beeping and the artificial breathing that never stopped.

The ventilator was still inflating Cora-san's lungs with a methodical order. Up and down, up and down, ever so systemized like a good little machine. It was weird to think that the man couldn't even breathe without that thing anymore, as if he had forgotten how to.

He had looked at it so many times yet he still found something else to stare at; The LMA mask covered half of his face, and Law couldn’t help but imagine the discomfort that must be causing. It was such an obtrusive device, he couldn't help but hate it for what it was doing to him. The way it clung to Cora-san's head with its rubber straps, how it obscured the jawline that used to be so expressive...

“Your mouth must be killing you,” Law murmured to the still figure in the bed, his voice low. He imagined the way his jaw would ache from being so perpetually open, the muscles straining from the forced, unrelenting position. He thought about how that must make his throat sore, too. "I bet you would love to get a smoke break now..."

His thoughts wandered to the days when he had laughed—a sound that seemed like it would never come again. If Cora-san ever woke up, no, not if, when!, how would that feel? Would his voice be the same? Would it sound raspy and hoarse like it did before, the telltale signs of years of chain smoking, or would it be different now, raw and hoarse from the intubation? Could he lose his voice from it?

Law winced at the thought. He wasn’t sure which one he dreaded more—the idea of Cora-san's voice breaking with weakness, or the silence that followed each breath, each beep, when no voice came at all.

He would love him either way, however.

Why couldn't things go back to normal without them having to face any consequences?

"Fuck, I miss hearing you talk," Law huffed, more to himself than anyone else. "I just want to hear you scold me again...or complain about your work. Remember that time we argued for an hour about which pizza topping was the best? Like it mattered... Jesus, we were stupid." His voice trailed off as if the memory was more painful than it was comforting despite his small chuckle. "I want to do that again."

So many regrets... so many regrets, in fact, it felt like it was going to overflow from within him, choking him from the inside.

Law squeezed Cora-san’s hand again, harder this time. The warmth he hoped for was fleeting, disappearing into the cold air of the room quicker than he could provide. He could almost hear the whisper of Cora-san’s voice in his memory. It was still there, somewhere in the corners of his mind. He couldn't forget that, no, he wouldn't.

Cora-san would wake up at some point, he was sure of it, because Cora-san loved him too much to go and die and leave him behind. And until then, Law would have to suffice with voice recordings and videos of their time together before he was ready to get up again.

Then started the messages. The ding ding ding of the phone filled the air, a jarring reminder of the world outside this sterile bubble. Law glanced down at the screen, but it didn’t stop him from keeping his voice steady, trying to keep talking to Cora-san. He had read somewhere, a long time ago, that there had been cases—very few, and far between, but still—where someone in a vegetative state or in a long-term coma had responded to talking. Some had shown cognitive processing, some had even moved a finger or opened their eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, there would be a miracle with Cora-san too. Maybe he would open his eyes, or make a sound of acknowledgment, a flicker of movement to let Law know he wasn’t entirely alone in this room.

He leaned forward a little, keeping his voice soft, as though trying to coax some response from the still figure beside him. “The semester is almost over,” Law said, feeling the words leave his mouth, knowing they were just part of the daily monotony now, but hoping they would somehow reach Cora-san. He could bet he would love to hear anything other than the humdrum conversations the doctors and nurses had while passing by.

“My GPA is 3.46 now. It fell a little, but not too much. I decided to leave the pedagogical formation program for now. The classes just felt too much with it with everything that's going on right now. I might take it again once I graduate, though. You know, just in case; if things don't go as I planned. I would rather not be a teacher but still; better than getting a job at a grocery store or something."

As he spoke, he carefully laid his head on the side of Cora-san's body, right by his chest while being mindful of all the devices connected to him. He could hear the faint, steady thud of Cora-san's heart. It was a strange comfort, this heartbeat—the one sound that kept everything else at bay. That soft rhythm was still consistent though a little weak. It was still doing its job, pumping blood, keeping the body alive, even if the mind was so distant—a simple, beautiful sound of life. The only sound that mattered, really.

It was a reminder that Cora-san was still here, that even in all the stillness and silence, there was still something next to him, however small.

Law closed his eyes again, and tried to inhale Cora-san's smell behind all the disinfectant and medicine that shadowed him, trying to remember what the man smelt like before all of this. He still had a pack of cigarette he liked so much, near his bed, just to remind him but it wasn't the same thing. Cora-san had forgotten it in the kitchen that day and Law had it since then, pulling it out from his secret place and smell it time to time when things get too much sometimes.

Then the phone buzzed again, another ding. He opened his eyes reluctantly, and the moment was broken. Who was this persistent son of a bitch?

He first tried to ignore it but the phone kept buzzing with new notifications, each one a little more insistent than the last.

"This better be important," Law mumbled under his breath and pulled the phone out of his pocket, his eyes scanning the screen. Doflamingo’s name popped up again and again. There were thirteen missed calls. Thirteen. And lots of messages to accompany them as well. Which was indeed weird, considering they only talked when it was really necessary or if Cora-san was forcing them to spend some "family" time.

"Hey Cora-san," he asked, then. "Your annoying brother is trying to reach me. Should I give him a call? I don't really want to, but if you say so I will. You know I would do anything for you."

He turned his head towards the sleeping figure and waited for a moment. It looked like the man would expect him to make his own decision this time, however.

So, he opened the chat to see what the man wanted. Because that was what Cora-san would have wanted him to do, anyway.

He could already imagine the way he would have looked endearingly to him, just because he did something as small as responding to a text back. He always had wanted them to get along, after all.

Maybe he could try to be friendlier to the man after all of this. Maybe when Cora-san woke up and saw them resemble something of a family, it would motivate him to get even better.

Yeah, that was a nice thought.

Doflamingo: Law

Doflamingo: Open the goddamn phone

Doflamingo: We need to talk

Doflamingo: I'm done with your pissy attitude, you hear me??

Doflamingo: I'm not kidding

Doflamingo: Stop being a little bitch and call me back

Doflamingo: This is important

Law actually felt his stomach twist as he read them. Doflamingo seemed angry, but when was he not, really? It had been this way ever since Cora-san’s hospitalization. All they did was argue and argue and argue. Being in the same room as the other man had started to feel suffocating; so much more than it did ever before—like there was no air left between them, no space to breathe.

He leaned back in his chair, a deep sigh leaving him as he stared at the message. The last thing he wanted right now was to deal with the other man’s temper. He’d been so stressed out lately, trying to keep everything together—university, Cora-san, his studies, and whatever mess Doflamingo was inevitably stirring up now, apparently.

Law didn’t respond right away, letting a few minutes pass. Doflamingo could wait. Law wasn’t going to let him dictate when he responded—at least, not today.

But then another message came through.

Doflamingo: I know you're online you idiot

Doflamingo: I know what the blue tick means

Doflamingo: I swear to god

Doflamingo: I'm gonna beat your ass this time fr

Law scoffed at the tone of the message. Doflamingo was clearly pissed for some damn reason—more pissed than usual, even but he couldn't think of a reason why. Law’s thumb hovered over the screen, trying to think of a way to diffuse it, not to escalate things when he was already drained from everything.

He typed out a response, then deleted it, then rewrote it, and repeated this a few more times before finally sending something in return.

Law: What

Law: What is it

Law: I'm with Cora-san atm

Law: Can't this wait

Law: ?

Almost instantly, the reply came. He must have been waiting on the phone the whole time.

Doflamingo: No it can't

Doflamingo: So get your ass back home

Doflamingo: ASAP

Doflamingo: Or I will just do whatever the hell I want and you can go cry about it later I don't care

Doflamingo: Yk I have no problem with that

Law felt the words sting, though he knew he shouldn’t let them. Doflamingo had always been like this—controlling, domineering, always needing attention like the drama queen he was. But this was different. Law knew that something was off. The text didn’t feel like a usual demand. The words were sharper, more biting, and something about the way it was phrased made him uneasy.

He stared at the phone for a moment, unsure. What was Doflamingo even talking about? What could be more important than being with Cora-san anyway?

Law typed a quick reply, his fingers shaking slightly with frustration.

Law: What are you on about now??

Law: I'm really not in the mood to fight

Law: I'm tired

Law: So just cut to the chase

And after a moment later, he added;

Law: Pls

The replies started to come just as quickly as before. Wasn't he at the job right now? Did he really have this much time to waste?

Not that Law was sure what the hell he was doing, but still.

Doflamingo: This isn't something that I'm going to talk about on the fucking phone you brat

Doflamingo: And I'm not searching for a fight either

Doflamingo: So you better come

Doflamingo: We'll talk about it this weekend

Doflamingo: You'll probably going to need it

Doflamingo: I'll just inform you of something and be done with it anyway

Law couldn't help but frown again. What the hell? He wasn’t even sure what Doflamingo was talking about anymore. He was being vague, distant, and now threatening to drop some news in person that couldn’t be shared over text? The whole thing felt like a game, and Law hated it.

He didn’t want to deal with it, not now, not when Cora-san’s condition was hanging over them still. But Law was stubborn, and he wasn’t about to let Doflamingo make demands without some explanation. If he wanted to order him around then he better had to have a good excuse.

Law: What

Law: What the fuck are you on about

Law: ??

Law: What's going on?

Law: Oh now you decide to shut up

Law: Doflamingo

The seconds ticked by with no reply. He still kept staring at the screen, however, his thumb hovering over the keyboard as if he could will Doflamingo to answer just by glaring at the thing. But there was nothing. No dots. No typing indication. Just a message left on read.

So he decided to text-bomb him next.

Law: Is this supposed to be some kind of joke?

Law: Or a ploy?? To get me home or smtng??

Law: D

Law: O

Law: F

Law: L

Law: A

Law: M

Law: I

Law: N

Law: G

Law: O

Law: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Law: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Law: You know I can do this all day

Law: Your such an asshole you know that?

Law: *You're

His blood was starting to boil, and if he didn't know any better he would have thrown the stupid phone across the room like those typical American coming-of-age movies with those annoying teenagers in them. Doflamingo really knew how to push his buttons, didn't he? He couldn't afford a new one, though. His phone almost slipped from his hand as he slammed it back into his pocket, muttering a curse under his breath.

"Goddamn it, what the hell is wrong with him?" He hissed aloud. "I swear, he does this on purpose. He just loves tormenting me, I know it."

His eyes flicked to the bed beside him, where Cora-san still lay motionless, surrounded by all those machines Law would bet that he didn't even know existed before this. The contrast between the chaos in his mind and the calm, quiet presence of the man beside him struck him hard. Cora-san would never do this. Would never act like Doflamingo— wouldn't order him around, wouldn't scream at him or push him, wouldn't act like he was better than him.

He wished the brothers could change places somehow, that it had been that pink flamingo who was battling over his own survival and not Cora-san.

With that, he slumped onto his chair.

Wow.

That had been a very selfish, mean, and nasty thing to hope for. Even for him. Even if it was Doflamingo he was thinking about.

Even he didn't deserve something like this.

...He really needed some rest.

He touched his phone through his pants, resisting the urge to send another message, to demand that Doflamingo explain himself. But what would it change? The other was unpredictable and as stubborn as a mule, and Law knew better than to push him when he was in one of his moods.

Instead, he squeezed Cora-san’s hand once more, trying to draw strength from the still body.

There had been a time—before all of this—when he and Doflamingo hadn’t had to walk on eggshells around each other; not like this, at least. When their rivalry had been something more lighthearted, something they both secretly enjoyed even if they weren't exactly family; not the way Cora-san was for the both of them.

But now? Now everything felt... heavier. Forced. Complicated.

He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. The cold of the hospital room had already sunk into his own skin. What did he really want to say to Doflamingo, really ? He didn’t want to be the one to take the first step, didn’t want to be the one to extend the olive branch. 

....Especially since he knew he was blaming Law for this. For everything, honestly. How couldn't he? Even the young man himself was doing it.

He had tried to push the thought away, but it always came back, sharper each time. The tension between them wasn’t just some passing issue. It was the fallout from everything that had happened.

Doflamingo had never been the type to hide his feelings. He was blunt, often ruthless, but he had always been clear. And when it came to Cora-san, they had always been rivals. But it wasn’t just that. There had been a twisted form of affection, a weird kind of competition for Cora-san’s attention and time. They had fought over who could get the most out of him—who could make him laugh, who could make him smile, who could steal his time away from the other and show it to his face.

Back then, it was a game. And though the stakes were high—Cora-san was, after all, someone they both cared about deeply—it was still lighthearted. There was no animosity, no resentment... not until everything went wrong.

The accident, the fallout—it broke something in Law. He had pulled away, isolating himself in Cora-san’s hospital room, trying to deal with the chaos in his own way. And Doflamingo... well, Doflamingo had taken that as a betrayal, even if he never used those words out loud. He didn't know exactly what had happened, Law never said anything to anyone for that matter, but it didn't matter. He didn't have to come out and say it for him to know the man's feelings.

Law sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was responsible, though, wasn’t he? He had been there, he had been the one who had left the house so absurdly without saying anything and causing Cora-san to come after him, it was because of him they started to argue in the middle of the road and attract all that unwanted attention on them, cause someone to come after them.

And yet he hadn’t been able to stop any of it; just watched, frozen at his feet, as someone pulled a gun and...

The guilt weighed on him like a stone in his chest , making it hard to breathe sometimes. He thought about it all day every day, all the scenarios that could have been done differently if he had just used that stupid head of his.

And Doflamingo? He had probably been looking for someone to blame, someone to pour all that anger and frustration into as well. Someone who had been closest to Cora-san, someone who had seen what happened, at the very least. It only made sense that Doflamingo would turn his fury toward him.

God knows what the man would do if he knew he had been the sole reason Cora-san was now in this state. That if Law never had been in their lives, Cora-san most likely would have been fine.

Probably would have killed him with his own hands. And could he even blame him for it?

That's what he would have done, at least, if he had been in Doflamingo's shoes.

It hurt. It hurt more than Law had been willing to admit. Because somewhere in the back of his mind, he had always believed that Doflamingo would get over it, find a way -most likely illegal- to make things better again. He always seemed like the guy who could handle everything, that nothing could break his spirit, that he was stronger than God.

But now, each time he went back to their apartment, he could see the way his eyes hidden behind those pink-tinted glasses hovered over him, looked past him in search of the only family member he had left. Expecting, hoping to see the other man he shared his blood, his life with to no avail.

How the fuck was Law supposed to face that without crumbling..?

No, there was no way in hell he could talk about this. Not to him.

He tried to push the thought away, but it stuck with him. If Doflamingo was this angry, this bitter, it had to be because of something he had done. His self-loathing was starting to eat away at him again, gnawing at the edges of his mind.

He had messed up.

He had ruined everything like he always did.

Everyone who got too close to him ended up getting hurt.

Maybe he was destined to be alone, to die alone.

And maybe that was a good thing because then no one would have to suffer other than him.

Law’s thumb hovered over the phone once more. 'Push over the guilt', he said to himself, 'there's no point in beating around the bush. It won't change anything anyway.'

He didn't deserve to hide away, close his eyes and ears. He didn't get to not face Doflamingo even if it caused this immense regret and shame to intensify, as if someone was grabbing him by the throat.

Maybe he should be with the man for that reason alone: as a self-inflicted punishment of some sort, if you will. God knows he deserved it. And who else would be better than that man himself to fulfill that? And maybe someone hurting him back and watching him squirm in misery and grief would also help with his own grief as well just as it would help Doflamingo to hurt the person who did all of this to his one and only little brother.

Law sighed.

He just wanted to forget about it all, honestly. He just wanted to sit here, watch Cora-san, and wait until his beloved benefactor opened his eyes again. Was that too much to ask? Maybe it was; for him, at least.

...He was indeed a coward through and through.

He glanced back at Cora-san; he was oh so blissfully unaware of everything; of his own suffering, of Law and his brother's anguish, of the time passing and the world that kept turning without waiting for him.

Law sniffed, and put a hand over his eyes.

He wished he had someone here who could tell him what to do, who could give him the comfort he desperately needed.

That was usually Cora-san's job. It had been for years, for that matter.

And honestly? He didn't even remember a time when this wasn't the case anymore.

If there just had been a way to turn back time...

Finally, Law sent a simple reply, his fingers trembling slightly as he typed.

Law: Fine.

Law: I’ll come home soon

Law: The visit time is almost over anyway

Doflamingo didn't send him a reply, just gave him a simple thumbs-up emoji just to let Law know that he would be expecting him.