Work Text:
The day Lawrie first said Papa was an otherwise ordinary Wednesday.
Shanks was supposed to go to the office. But Lawrie had a slight fever the night before, and although it had gone down by morning,Law was still worried. Before leaving, he stood at the entrance changing his shoes, glanced back at Shanks who was in the kitchen clumsily heating milk, and those amber eyes held a trace of hesitation.
"I have two surgeries today,"Law said worriedly, his voice a little lower than usual. "I won't be back before five."
Shanks was staring at the bottle with a troubled expression-he seemed to have put in too much formula powder, or maybe not enough; anyway, the color didn't look right-hearing Law's words, he looked up, met those amber eyes filled with concern, and immediately flashed a brilliant smile.
"Don't worry, I'll work from home." He shook the bottle, testing the temperature, the movement adorably clumsy. "I've got our son totally under control."
Law looked him over from head to toe-the crooked apron, the messy red hair sticking up in all directions, the white milk mustache at the corner of his mouth (when had he sneaked a taste?). His amber eyes swept from top to bottom, finally settling on Shanks' grinning face. He paused for a second, then spoke hesitantly: "...Are you sure?" The tone was laced with undisguised doubt, but deep in his eyes, a hint of amusement lurked.
Shanks was brimming with confidence. He walked over and kissed him on the cheek. "Positive! Go now,Law doctor. Good luck with the surgeries. When you get back, I promise you'll see a lively, bouncing Lawrie."
Law reached up and wiped the spot where he'd been kissed, but the corner of his mouth still twitched upwards slightly. He glanced at Shanks, then through the hallway towards the nursery where a tiny figure was diligently trying to push a teddy bear off the bed, and finally turned and went out the door.
The moment the door closed, Shanks rolled up his sleeves, full of confidence.
How hard could parenting be? He was someone who could handle billion-dollar M&A deals.
Two hours later, Shanks sat on the living room rug, his laptop open in front of him displaying an urgent email requiring a response, but his attention was completely elsewhere.
The reason was simple-Lawrie was sitting right next to him, methodically piling blocks onto his leg.
The little guy wore a light blue onesie, soft red hair plastered against his head, his small face slightly scrunched in concentration. He made some vague babbling sounds, holding a red triangle block, trying hard to place it on the wobbly tower already stacked on Shanks' knee.
"Poo... poo..."
"baby, that one's gonna make it fall." Shanks said, reaching out to steady it.
Too late.
With a clatter, the block tower collapsed, scattering everywhere.
Lawrie stared at the blocks rolling all over the place, blinked slowly with his big amber-amber eyes, then slowly looked up at Shanks, his expression one of pure innocence, confusion, and a touch of bewilderment.
Shanks held back a laugh, deliberately putting on a stern face, his brow slightly furrowed. "Who knocked that over?"
Lawrie blinked, his big eyes scanning Shanks' face for a moment. Then he extended a tiny finger and pointed at Shanks without hesitation.
"Me?" Shanks stared back, eyes wide with shock, pointing at himself, his voice rising an octave. "It was obviously you-"
Lawrie pointed at him again, his small face full of serious accusation, accompanied by a stream of babbling that sounded very much like "don't even try to blame me."
Shanks looked at his little man acting so grown-up, and finally couldn't hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing.
He scooped Lawrie up into his arms, nuzzling his little head with his chin, earning a string of giggles from the little guy.
"Little rascal," he said fondly, laughing. "Blaming others already at this age. Who do you take after?"
Lawrie squirmed happily in his arms, little hands grabbing at his shirt buttons, continuing to make his own private babbling sounds.
Shanks looked down at him, his heart melting into a puddle of pure mush.
This was the scene he missed most every morning before leaving for work. This tiny person, this little one with his red hair and Law's eyes, was the best gift he'd ever received.
He kissed Lawrie's forehead lovingly, then again, and once more for good measure.
Lawrie, a bit bewildered by the onslaught of affection, looked up at him questioningly.
Shanks chuckled happily, shifting him higher on his lap, and turned his attention back to the computer screen.
"baby, Papa has a tiny bit of work left, okay? Be good."
Lawrie seemed to understand, or not, his small hand playing with Shanks' fingers.
Shanks took a deep breath, trying to refocus on that email.
Ten minutes later, he'd successfully typed three lines.
Lawrie was getting restless. He squirmed on Shanks' lap like a restless little caterpillar, small hands grabbing at his shirt, tugging his tie, reaching for the computer screen.
"Sweetheart, don't move..." Shanks gently blocked him.
Lawrie, thwarted, pouted his little lips, his big eyes quickly welling up with a watery sheen, letting out a plaintive sound.
Shanks' heart melted instantly. He closed the laptop, set it aside, and picked Lawrie up, settling him against his shoulder.
"Okay, okay. Papa's done working. Papa will play with you."
Lawrie snuggled against his shoulder, little hands grabbing his hair, making contented humming sounds.
Shanks stood up and slowly paced the living room. This was the most effective soothing method he and Law had discovered-Lawrie loved being carried around, especially against a shoulder, able to watch the world while enjoying a warm hug.
"Look, that's the window. Outside there are trees, little birds..." Shanks murmured, his voice soft as a lullaby. "The birds go tweet tweet, doesn't that sound like Lawrie when he wakes up?"
Lawrie buried his face in his shoulder, making a vague sound.
"Oh, Papa thinks so too."
They walked for a while, then Lawrie started getting restless again. He lifted his head, looked around, his eyes scanning the living room before his small hand pointed towards the play area.
Shanks followed his gaze to a pile of blocks and the nearly bald unicorn. "Want to play with toys?"
Lawrie pointed more insistently.
Shanks obediently carried him over and set him on the rug, surrounded by his favorite things-blocks, cloth books, and that well-loved unicorn.
Lawrie plopped down, grabbed the unicorn, and began seriously studying its ear. He turned it over, examining it, his little brow slightly furrowed as if pondering a great mystery.
Shanks sat down nearby, reopened his laptop, and tried again to finish that email he'd only written three lines for.
This time, he managed to finish the rest and hit send.
He let out a long sigh and looked over at Lawrie.
The little guy had abandoned the unicorn and was now diligently trying to fit a round block into a square hole. It wouldn't go. He tried a different angle. Still wouldn't go. He frowned, making discontented sounds, his small face flushed with effort.
Shanks didn't say anything, just watched him intently.
After several attempts, Lawrie gave up. He tossed the round block aside, picked up a triangle, and tried to jam that into the square hole instead.
Still no luck.
Lawrie looked up at Shanks. Those big eyes held a plea for help, tinged with frustration.
Shanks couldn't help but smile. He reached over, picked up the square box, and pointed to the round hole. "See, this hole is round. You need the round block."
Lawrie looked down at the scattered blocks and spotted the round one. He stretched out his little arm, his face scrunching with the effort. He grabbed it, aimed, and popped it into the round hole.
Success.
Lawrie froze for a second, staring at the block now safely inside. Then he looked up at Shanks. Those big eyes slowly filled with a light-the joy of discovery, the pride of achievement. He grinned.
That grin was brighter than the sunshine streaming through the window.
Shanks' heart was struck instantly.
"Yes! Good job, baby!" He scooped Lawrie up and planted a huge kiss on his chubby cheek. "So smart!"
Lawrie giggled, little hands patting his face, letting out a stream of excited babbling.
Shanks hugged and kissed him again and again, pride swelling in his chest. "Papa's little genius!"
Lawrie giggled even more.
The rest of the time passed in a comfortable rhythm. Shanks worked on emails while Lawrie played nearby, occasionally crawling over for a hug, a kiss, a bit of attention.
Each time, Shanks stopped what he was doing and fulfilled every request.
At 3 in the afternoon, Shanks had just finished a brief video conference. He closed his laptop, stretched, and looked over at Lawrie on the rug.
The little guy had lost interest in the blocks. He was now trying to stand up, holding onto a small table nearby, wobbling precariously. His little legs trembled, his bottom stuck out, looking like a tipsy little penguin.
Shanks didn't rush over to help him, just watched quietly.
Lawrie stood for two seconds, then plopped back down. He sat there for a moment, then turned to Shanks and opened his arms.
Pick me up.
His eyes said it all, with perfect, innocent logic: I fell down, come get me.
Shanks smiled, walked over, and crouched down in front of him. Instead of picking him up immediately, he looked him in the eye and gently encouraged, "baby, can you stand up and come to Papa by yourself?"
Lawrie blinked, processing the words.
Shanks held out his hand, palm up. "Come on, grab Papa's hand and stand up."
Lawrie looked at the large hand, then reached out his own chubby little hand and grabbed Shanks' fingers.
Shanks gently pulled him up.
Lawrie stood there, looking down at himself with wonder. He seemed to be studying this new upright position, feeling the strange sensation under his feet.
Then, he let go of Shanks' hand and took a wobbly step forward.
Two steps.
On the third, he lost his balance and plopped back down.
But he didn't cry. He looked at Shanks, opened his arms, and made a vague sound.
"P... poo..."
Shanks froze, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, fixed on Lawrie.
Lawrie made the sound again. "Poo... poo poo..."
Shanks' heart skipped a beat. He told himself it was just babbling. Lawrie was only nine months old, he couldn't talk yet. There was no way-
Lawrie kept making the sound, over and over. "Poo... poo poo... poo..."
Then, he stopped suddenly, his big amber-gold eyes fixed seriously on Shanks.
"Pa... pa."
Shanks went completely still.
Lawrie looked at him and said it again, clearer this time. "Papa."
Shanks stopped breathing for a second.
He stared at Lawrie in disbelief. Those eyes, just like Law's. That hair, just like his own. This tiny person, looking up at him, saying a word he never expected to hear so soon.
"Papa."
Lawrie said it again, seemingly delighted, and started repeating it happily. "Papa! Papa! Papa!"
Tears sprang to Shanks' eyes instantly.
He rushed over and scooped Lawrie into his arms, holding him tight, as if afraid he'd disappear.
"baby..." His voice trembled, tears streaming down his face, falling onto Lawrie's red hair. "baby, you said Papa... You called me Papa..."
Lawrie squirmed a little at the tightness, but hearing his voice, he calmed down, small hands grabbing his shirt, still chanting, "Papa... Papa..."
That voice, soft and sweet, like sugar melting in his heart.
Shanks held him close, crying like a happy fool.
Then, a thought struck him. Excitedly, he held Lawrie up in front of him, looking directly into his eyes, his own shining brightly.
"Say it again," he choked out, his voice full of plea, anticipation, and overwhelming love. "baby, say Papa one more time."
Lawrie looked at him, blinked, and grinned.
"Papa!"
Shanks couldn't contain himself. He jumped up, spinning Lawrie around in the air.
Lawrie giggled at the ride, little hands waving excitedly, still chanting, "Papa! Papa! Papa!"
Shanks spun him around and around, finally pulling him back into a tight hug, kissing him soundly.
"My baby! My little sun!" he babbled excitedly, tears still on his face. "You said Papa! You said Papa!"
Lawrie, covered in kisses, just giggled along, patting his face, providing the soundtrack to his father's joy.
Shanks held him, dancing around the living room in a completely uncoordinated, ridiculous jig. He didn't care at all. He held Lawrie up high, then hugged him close again, muttering over and over, "Papa's baby said Papa! Papa's little sun said Papa!"
Lawrie giggled helplessly, laughing and calling out, "Papa! Papa! Papa!"
Each Papa was like a tiny pebble dropping into the stillest, softest pool of Shanks' heart, creating ripples of happiness that spread and spread.
After a while, Shanks finally stopped, out of breath, but his smile was unstoppable.
He sat on the sofa with Lawrie on his lap and pulled out his phone.
Lawrie watched curiously, little hands reaching for it.
"Wait a second, baby," Shanks said quickly, his voice still trembling with excitement. "Papa needs to call Daddy and tell him the most amazing news!"
He found Law's number and dialed.
The phone rang a few times, then connected.
"Hello?"Law's voice came through, tinged with a little fatigue, but mostly concern. "What's wrong? Is Lawrie okay?"
"Law!" Shanks shouted, barely containing his excitement. "Lawrie!He said it! He called me!"
There was a pause on the other end.
"...What do you mean he called you?"Law's voice was clearly confused.
"He said Papa!" Shanks yelled excitedly, tears welling up again. "Just now! He looked at me and said Papa! Lots of times! Listen!"
He held the phone up to Lawrie. "baby, say Papa for Daddy!"
Lawrie stared at the phone curiously. "Papa!"
Another pause.
Shanks could picture Law's expression perfectly-those amber eyes widening slightly, a flicker of surprise in his pupils, slowly replaced by a soft light. The corner of his mouth would twitch, trying to stay calm, but the light in his eyes would already be impossible to hide.
Then Law's voice came again, softer this time, with a hint of barely suppressed emotion. "...Really?"
"Really!" Shanks exclaimed. "He said it lots of times! Listen, Lawrie, say it again!"
"Papa! Papa!" Lawrie obliged happily.
A soft intake of breath came through the phone.
Shanks knew that sound. It was Law trying to control his emotions. That always-composed person, who never showed his feelings easily, was probably biting his lip right now, struggling to keep his voice steady.
"...He sounds wonderful."Law said, his voice even softer now, carrying a strange, tender quality.
Shanks' eyes started stinging again. "Law, did you hear him? He called me Papa!"
"I heard."Law replied, a smile in his voice. He paused, then added, "I heard it too."
Shanks knew what he meant. Lawrie had said Papa, not Dada. That name was his, uniquely his.
"When are you coming home?" Shanks asked eagerly. "He'll still say it when you get back! Just wait!"
Law let out a helpless little chuckle, light as air, but Shanks heard it.
"Around five."Law said soothingly. "Put the phone near him. Let him say it a few more times."
Shanks held the phone to Lawrie's ear.
"Lawrie,"Law's voice came through, gentle as a spring breeze. "Say Papa."
Lawrie's eyes lit up at the sound of Daddy's voice. "Papa!" he said happily.
Shanks grinned stupidly next to him.
On the other end of the line,Law smiled too.
"Okay, I need to go now. You two be good."
"Yes, sir,Law doctor!" Shanks replied brightly.
After hanging up, Shanks tossed the phone aside and kissed Lawrie again. "Sweetheart, Daddy heard you! Daddy's so happy!"
Lawrie didn't understand the words, but seeing Shanks so happy made him happy too. He giggled and kept calling out, "Papa! Papa!"
Shanks held him and started another round of spinning and dancing.
That afternoon, Shanks didn't do any work. He just held Lawrie, listening to him tirelessly call out Papa, kissing him each time, smiling with every kiss.
Lawrie seemed to discover the fun of this game and called out even more enthusiastically.
"Papa! Papa! Papa!"
"YES! YES! YES!" Shanks answered every single one, his smile never fading.
Eventually, Lawrie got tired from all the calling and snuggled against his shoulder, still mumbling softly, "Papa... poo..."
Shanks patted his back gently, humming a tuneless lullaby. The melody wandered all over the place, but the tenderness in his voice made your heart ache.
Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing them in a warm, amber light.
In that moment, Shanks felt that life was complete.
At 5:10 p.m, the lock clicked.
Shanks was already waiting at the entrance, holding Lawrie.
The door opened, and before Law could react, he was tackled by an excited red-haired puppy-who also happened to be holding a smaller puppy.
"Law! You're home!" Shanks shouted triumphantly. "Quick, listen! Lawrie, say Papa!"
Lawrie looked at Law. "Papa!"
Law smiled gently, a strange softness coloring his voice. "He sounds wonderful."
Shanks was so proud he felt like his tail would wag off. "Of course! He's my son!"
Law changed his shoes and walked over, reaching out to gently touch Lawrie's head. Lawrie grabbed his finger and said it again, "Papa!"
"Yes!" Shanks answered immediately, unable to hide the pride in his voice.
Law shot him an amused glance.
Shanks was unrepentant. "He was calling me. I had to answer."
Law didn't say anything, but the smile in his eyes was undeniable.
They walked to the living room. Shanks set Lawrie on the sofa and plopped down beside him.Law sat on the other side.
Lawrie sat between them, looking at Shanks on his left, then Law on his right. His little face was full of curiosity, his eyes moving back and forth as if studying something.
Then he turned to Shanks. "Papa!"
Shanks beamed. "Yes, baby!"
Lawrie turned to Law, opened his little mouth, and made a tentative sound. "Da... da..."
Law's eyes widened slightly.
Lawrie looked at him and tried again, more clearly this time. "Da... da!"
That sound-soft, sweet, tentative-struck like lightning, hitting the softest, most vulnerable place in Law's heart.
Law froze, his amber eyes staring at Lawrie in shock. Something flickered in their depths-surprise, joy, and an indescribable, overwhelming tenderness.
Shanks was laughing so hard he could barely breathe beside him. "Haha! He said Dada! He just said Dada!"
Lawrie seemed to realize his success and continued happily, "Dada! Dada! Dada!"
Law stared at him, speechless. Then he reached out and gently touched Lawrie's face. That hand, which had held countless scalpels, was now gently, carefully stroking his son's soft cheek.
"Dada's here." he said, his voice so rough it was barely audible, his amber eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Shanks' laughter slowly faded. He watched Law's red-rimmed eyes, his own heart melting.
He reached out and pulled Law into the hug too.
The three of them embraced.
Lawrie, squeezed in the middle, wiggled with joy, still chanting, "Papa! Dada! Papa! Dada!"
Shanks kissed his cheek, then kissed Law's cheek, murmuring contentedly, "My two treasures!"
Law didn't push him away. He just leaned quietly against his shoulder, letting that red-haired puppy nuzzle his face. His eyes were slightly closed, a faint, barely-there smile on his lips. He looked incredibly soft, utterly at peace.
That night, Lawrie said Papa and Dada countless times.
During dinner, while playing, during his bath, during the bedtime story, he kept saying them.
Shanks answered every single time, his face full of pride and joy, as if this was the greatest achievement of his life.
Law lay beside Lawrie, telling him the story about the stars he'd told countless times before. Lawrie listened, still mumbling softly, "Papa... Dada..."
"Yes." Shanks answered from beside them, grinning.
Law rolled his eyes at him.
Shanks blinked innocently. "He was calling me."
Law ignored him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.
The story ended. Lawrie's eyes were almost closed. He held onto Law's finger, murmuring one last time, barely audible, "Papa..."
Shanks answered softly, his voice gentle as a lullaby. "Yes, honey."
Lawrie's little hand slowly relaxed. His breathing became steady.
Law gently pulled his finger free and sat up, looking down at the sleeping face. The chubby little cheeks still held a trace of a dreamy smile.
Shanks wrapped his arms around him from behind, murmuring proudly, "See, he was still calling me in his sleep."
Law leaned quietly against him.
After a long moment, he spoke, his voice soft but impossibly clear.
"Thank you, Shanks."
Shanks was confused. "For what?"
Law turned to look at him directly, his amber eyes incredibly bright in the dim light, reflecting Shanks' own face.
"For giving me... this family."
Shanks looked at those amber eyes, saw his own reflection so clearly, and felt his heart fill with an almost unbelievable warmth and contentment.
He pressed a firm kiss to Law's forehead, murmuring with deep love, "Thank you, too."
They smiled at each other, then both looked back at the sleeping little one.
He was sleeping soundly, his face buried in the pillow, a little drool at the corner of his mouth. Dreaming of something, he suddenly grinned and mumbled a vague, sleepy sound.
"Papa..."
Shanks and Law looked at each other and smiled.