Archive of Our Own

The journey had been smoother than expected with the sea remaining calm throughout the night. They arrived hours earlier than Rosinante had anticipated, the sky still dark when the outline of the coast finally came into view.

Rosinante carried Rosalia inside his warm coat as they made their way up the familiar path. She was half asleep against his chest, grumbling at the jostling.

The house was quiet. The windows were dark, except for a faint golden glow spilling from the sitting room.

Rosinante slowed and turned to face Doflamingo. "Sengoku's awake."

Doflamingo said nothing, following a few steps behind him. His fingers curled tightly around the straps of their bags. He kept his head lowered, teeth clenched hard, ready to bite his own tongue if he had to.

Every instinct in his body told him to turn around and leave. But he couldn't.

Not when he was the one who had begged to come.

Rosinante climbed the last few steps and knocked on the front door.

Doflamingo took a deep breath, cracked his neck, and waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Just in case he wasn't welcome.



There was a brief silence. Then a shadow moved across the windows, rising from the couch in the sitting room and making its way slowly to the door.

The lock clicked, and the door opened to Sengoku still in his sleep clothes.

"My son. You're early." The exhaustion in his face vanished and his eyes began to shine.

Rosinante's smile wavered, his own eyes starting to sting.

"Good morning, Sengoku."

Sengoku opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as the small bundle rustled beneath Rosinante's coat.

Rosinante lifted her out, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. Rosalia yawned and rubbed at one eye with her fist, her hair wild from the sea wind.

Sengoku stared. Then his eyes filled completely.

"Oh. Hello, darling."

Rosalia blinked sleepily at him. Sengoku wiped quickly beneath one eye, but another tear escaped anyway.

"She looks just like you, Rosi," he whispered, reaching out to touch one of her blonde curls.

Rosalia stared at the unfamiliar man for a second longer before hiding her face against Rosinante's neck.

Sengoku let out a soft chuckle.

"Shy, are we?"

"She's just tired and grumpy." Rosinante smiled and patted her back. "She's not usually like this."

"Yes. She must be exhausted from the sail."

Sengoku's gaze returned to Rosinante, and only then did he notice the way he was standing. His weight settled too heavily on one leg.

His brow furrowed and his mouth pulled into a frown.

Rosinante recognised that look immediately.

"I'm fine, Sengoku."

Sengoku's eyes narrowed and he shook his head, deciding not to probe for now.

Instead, he opened his arms.

Rosinante stepped forward. The moment Sengoku wrapped his arms around him, Rosinante's eyes clenched shut.

Sengoku held him tightly, one arm around his shoulders and the other around Rosalia's head.

"My boy," Sengoku murmured. "Welcome home."

Rosinante swallowed against the tightness in his throat.

"I missed you, Rosi."

"I missed you too."

Sengoku pulled back, his hand staying on Rosinante's shoulders. "Where are your bags?"

Rosinante looked down towards the bottom of the stairs, and Sengoku's eyes followed. They stopped on the large man standing there.

His expression hardened, the grip on Rosinante's shoulder tightened.

"Rosinante. I told you to bring your little one, not—"

His eyes moved over Doflamingo once more and he noticed the broken glasses.

He sighed, running a palm down his face.

"Never mind. I'm sure there must be a reason. Come inside."



A bedroom door creaked open down the hallway. Law stepped into the sitting room, blinking against the dim light.

Rosinante's breath hitched at the sight of him. In his mind, Law was still the short, frail little kid.

But the boy in front of him had grown out of that smallness. He was taller now, with much broader shoulders. His cheeks had filled out, no longer gaunt from his illness.

Law looked towards the front door, squinting to make out who had arrived at this hour.

His eyes found Rosinante's face. They widened in disbelief before beginning to water.

"Cora-san..."

Law lunged forward to close the distance, but his momentum died instantly as his gaze drifted past Rosinante. His eyes locked onto Doflamingo who was standing near the front door. His lips pressed tight into a bitter scowl, and he marched right past Rosinante, planting himself in front of Doflamingo with his arms crossed tight over his chest.

"What are you doing here?"

Doflamingo glanced down at him and turned away without a word.

Law gritted his teeth and stepped sideways, forcing himself back into Doflamingo's line of sight.

"I asked you a question, Doflamingo."

"Law," Rosinante murmured, shaking his head.

Law glared at Rosinante, the hostility still burning on his face. Then he noticed the tiny body pressed against Rosinante's chest.

"Who's that?" He pointed at Rosalia.

"Her name is Rosalia," Rosinante answered. "She's my daughter."

Daughter?

Law racked his memory. Cora-san had never mentioned a wife. Never a girlfriend, never anyone. The whole time Law was there, Cora-san was either alone with him or inside the palace with the Family.

Law leaned in closer, rising on his tiptoes to get a better look. Rosinante lowered Rosalia briefly to let Law see her properly.

The blonde curls. The sharp tip of her nose.

Unmistakable. She really did look like Cora-san.

Then his head snapped back towards Doflamingo.

"So what is he doing here?"

Rosinante's throat went dry. He hadn't prepared himself for this conversation.

"He's..." Rosinante paused, swallowing hard. "He's Rosalia's father, too."

Law stared at him. Then at Doflamingo. Then at Sengoku.

What the fuck?

He had spent over a year living among the Donquixote Family. He'd thought he had a fairly good idea of the sort of disturbing things that happened behind the palace walls.

Apparently, he had been profoundly wrong.

Things were worse behind closed doors.

"Of course he is."

Law turned back to Rosinante, his face twisted with disgust.

"Of course he is," he repeated, louder this time. He shook his head and stepped backwards to his room, slamming the door shut.

Rosalia wailed at the loud sound, startled by the sudden bang.

Law froze on the other side of the door. He slowly cracked it open again and peeked out. His face dropped when he saw Rosalia's face scrunched up in tears, fingers clinging onto Rosinante's shirt.

Rosinante adjusted Rosalia in his arms and limped towards the room.

"Can I come in?"

Law hesitated, stepping aside to let Rosinante enter before closing the door behind him.

He took a deep breath before speaking, but his voice was still shaking.

"What the hell is going on, Cora-san?"

Rosinante stayed quiet.

"You told me—" Law's voice cracked. "You told me not to get close to him, and yet—" He stopped, staring at Rosinante as if the rest of the sentence refused to make sense in his head. "And yet you have a daughter with him?"

Rosinante bit the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out if there was even a way to explain his relationship to Law.

Law walked in furious circles at the lack of a reply before dropping onto the bed, lying flat and covering his face with his palms.

"Did he change?" Law asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Did Doflamingo change?" Law asked desperately, trying to make sense of the situation. "Is he a good person now or—"

"No."

Law's palms slid off his face and curled into fists at his sides.

"Then why?" His lips parted in horror. "Cora-san, did he—did he force you—"

"No, Law. It was nothing like that."

"Then explain it to me!" Law sat up, shouting in frustration, eyes brimming with tears.

"It's complicated. Adult relationships are complicated, Law." Rosinante sighed as Law's raised voice made Rosalia cry harder. He gently rocked her, murmuring softly to her until she began to calm down.

There were things he could tell Law, and there were things he couldn't. Not because he didn't trust him, but because Law was still a child. There was no simple way to explain a relationship that had taken years to become what it was.

Especially when so much of it had been tangled up with their childhood, their past, and everything that had happened to them.

Law flinched at the loud wails. He angrily wiped his tears with his sleeves and stared down at the floor.

He was mad at Cora-san. Of course he was. The entire time there, Cora-san had warned him again and again not to get too close to Doflamingo. That Doflamingo was a terrible person. A ruthless monster who would destroy everything in his path to get what he wanted.

So why the hell was Cora-san making babies with him?!

He crossed his arms. Nothing was making sense to him. This must be why Sengoku never said much whenever he tried to ask about Cora-san.

But no matter how angry he was, he still knew that this man was his savior. Cora-san had risked his own life sending Law away in secret, and risked it even more by stealing the Ope Ope no Mi from Doflamingo himself.

His arms slowly lowered until they gripped the edge of the bed instead. His lips quivered as he looked up at Rosinante, and he suddenly felt terrible for losing his temper with the man who had done everything he could to save his life.

"Law," Rosinante said softly. "Come here."

Law hopped off the bed and walked to him, stopping right in front of Rosinante. Rosinante slipped his free arm around him and pulled him close.

He really was so much taller. When Law first arrived at the palace, he used to barely reach Rosinante's knees. Now the top of his head came up to Rosinante's hip.

Law pressed his face hard into Rosinante's side. His shoulders began to shake, and his hands tightened around the bottom of Rosinante's shirt as the sobs came, muffled into the fabric.

"I still hate him," Law choked out.

Rosinante's hand came up to rest on Law's head, pulling him closer. Feeling every ragged sob that he tried to swallow down.

"You've grown so much, Law." Rosinante whispered. He pulled back slightly and took Law's face in his hands. "The patches... they're all gone."

"Don't," Law muttered begrudgingly, yet he let Rosinante move his face however he wanted. His chin was tilted left, right, then up and down just so Rosinante could see him properly in the dim light.

There was colour in his skin now. The white patches that had once covered his face and body had completely faded, leaving behind the clear, tanned skin of a normal twelve-year-old boy.

Rosinante stared at him, and everything he'd been carrying for the past year came rushing back.

He thought about all the hospitals that had turned them away. The doctors who wouldn't touch Law. The doors shut in their faces because nobody wanted to risk treating a dying child over a disease they refused to believe was non-contagious.

He remembered activating his powers, silently grabbing Law from his bed in the middle of the night and carrying him down to the docks, whispering frantically into his ear that he was going to be safe no matter what. That he was being sent to Sengoku, who would take care of him. That he would recover from his illness soon. That he wouldn't die. That he would live a long and healthy life.

Rosinante remembered the distraught look on Law's face when he told him he had to leave. Law had clung to him, refusing to let go, until Rosinante had no choice but to knock him unconscious and carry him onto the boat himself.

He had written a letter and shoved it into Law’s pocket, telling him that he had received news of a Devil Fruit that could save his life. The Ope Ope no Mi would be arriving at the palace in a few months, and was already making its way to Dressrosa. Rosinante would steal it, and send it over to Sengoku.

At the time, Rosinante could tell that Doflamingo was starting to have his suspicions. He kept looking at Rosinante differently, and his eyes always lingered on Rosinante's stomach.

Rosinante knew that he would soon find out about the pregnancy.

He didn't know if he himself was going to be safe. Doflamingo was a madman. Things could have gone wrong in so many ways. He could have decided that a child made with his own brother was a bad strategy. A distraction, a weakness, a mistake to be discarded before it complicated his empire.

Or the opposite. He could have chained Rosinante to his room to guarantee the baby was delivered safely. And imprisonment would have meant stopping the search for Law's cure. Meant that anything could happen to Law, and Rosinante wouldn't be there to do anything about it.

So he had to make sure that Law was safe first.

And just days later, Doflamingo cornered him and forced him to admit he was pregnant.

From that day on, Rosinante went dark and stopped all communications with Sengoku.

Then, near the end of his pregnancy, when Sengoku came to Dressrosa to retrieve him, Rosinante had only just stolen the fruit weeks ago.

So he had never known for certain whether the fruit had reached the Marine base. Whether Law had eaten it. Whether he'd figured out how to use it to heal himself.

He had never known how Law was doing.

He had never dared to ask, either.

How could he?

He didn't deserve to ask anything of Sengoku. Not after choosing his brother over the Marines and their mission.

Standing there with Law's face in his hands, Rosinante finally knew.

Law was alive. Safe. Healthy.

Rosinante placed her in Doflamingo's arms before turning away and limping around the room.

The small desk he used to love writing at. The mirror that now hung too low. The cabinets that used to tower over him, now barely reaching his chest.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, and the movement shifted the blanket, revealing an old, worn stuffed goat tucked against the pillow. Sengoku had bought it for him a long time ago, after returning from a mission.

Rosinante remembered the way he'd hidden the little toy behind his back as he walked into the house.

He'd been confused at the time, since he was almost nine and long past stuffed toys.

But he'd seen the look in Sengoku's eyes when he handed the toy over, and he'd understood. It was Sengoku's first time taking care of anyone.

Rosinante had been so grateful. Goats became his favourite animal ever since.

Doflamingo finished settling Rosalia into her cot. When he turned back, he saw Rosinante sitting on the bed, clutching a toy goat as tears streamed down his face.

He knew Rosinante wanted space but he couldn't stop his mouth.

"Rosi—"

"I'm fine," Rosinante whispered, hastily wiping at his face.

A knock came at the door, and Doflamingo opened it.

Law came in with a folded towel in his hands. One look at Rosinante's tear streaked face and his head snapped towards Doflamingo.

"What did you do?" he barked.

"Law, he did nothing," Rosinante insisted. "I promise."

Law's eyes narrowed, but he didn't argue. He walked over and took a long look at Rosinante to make sure he was really fine. Then he placed the extra towel on the bed. "For the unwanted guest."

"Law." Rosinante huffed. "Enough."

Law shot Doflamingo one last glare before leaving.

Doflamingo paid him no mind. Not even sparing him a second glance. He unpacked the clothes and Rosalia's necessities, arranging them inside the cabinets. Once everything was put away, he picked up his bag.

"I'll go find a nearby inn."

Rosinante's mouth opened, but no words came out. He swallowed and tried again.

"Stay." His fingers tightened around the stuffed goat. "I might need help with her throughout the night, and I don't want to have to trouble—"

"Of course."

Doflamingo set his bag back down and started to unpack his belongings.



Rosinante picked up a towel and stood, limping to the adjoined bathroom.

Doflamingo watched the door click closed before retrieving the medical pouch from the bags and laying out everything he would need on the bed.

With nothing else to do, he sat on the bed and started to observe the room.

This was where his little brother had grown up.

The bedroom was small, nothing like the grand rooms in Mary Geoise or the palace. There was nothing remarkable about it.

Yet, every corner bore little signs of Rosinante's life here.

Old toys and worn out story books filled the small shelves. The desk had a large chip in it, undoubtedly the result of Rosinante's clumsiness. On the side of the cabinets, pencil marks tracked his height over the years.

He looked at the first line.

Rosinante had been so small.

Doflamingo could still remember how tiny his brother had been. Small enough that Doflamingo was constantly furious with him for not eating more.

Especially when they were living in the junkyard shack. Whatever little food Doflamingo managed to steal for him, Rosinante would insist on sharing, leaving hardly enough for himself.

Rosinante had still been so small when they were separated.

Which was why it had been such a shock when Rosinante appeared at the palace many years later, only a head shorter than himself.

Sengoku must have taken good care of him.



He listened to the sound of the water running until the shower stopped.

Rosinante came out with a towel wrapped around his hips.

He looked at the array of supplies on the bed.

"Let me help you change the dressing," Doflamingo offered.

Rosinante nodded and sat on the bed, the towel still covering the bandage.

Doflamingo's fingers hovered at the edge of the towel, hesitating.

"Doffy," Rosinante breathed. "It's fine. You're allowed to touch me."

Doflamingo pushed the towel up to reveal the bandage. He unwrapped the gauze carefully. Rosinante had kept it mostly dry, but the slight dampness had glued the cloth to the dried edges of the wound.

He slowly peeled the old dressing away. The wound underneath was slightly pink now, the stitches clean and intact.

Still, Doflamingo's stomach turned looking at it.

He reached for the antiseptic and soaked a fresh pad before lightly pressing it to the wound.

Rosinante's hand flew to his wrist.

"Did I hurt you?"

Doflamingo began to pull back immediately, but Rosinante's hand tightened around his wrist, keeping him there.

The ointment came next.

Doflamingo squeezed some onto his fingers and spread it in a thin layer across the wound. So gentle that his fingertips barely dented the skin.

This close, he could smell the floral soap. This close, he could feel the warmth of the shower still lingering on Rosinante's thigh.

Doflamingo's heart was pounding in his chest. His jaw tightened as he willed himself to concentrate on the wound instead of the hand wrapped around his wrist.

He wrapped the new gauze around the thigh, smoothing it down.

Then he gathered the wrappers and the old dressing, tucking the supplies back into the pouch. Only when he reached for the zipper did he realise where his other hand was.

His palm was resting on the inside of Rosinante's thigh.

Old habit. Muscle memory.

"I—" Doflamingo quickly pulled his hand away, his breath hitched. "I didn't mean to—"

Rosinante nodded without hearing the rest of it. There was a faint pink across his cheekbones.

Doflamingo put the pouch away in the cabinet and set Rosinante's sleep clothes on the bed.

Then he grabbed the towel Law had left him, and escaped into the bathroom.

Doflamingo woke to a soft cough, sitting upright before his eyes were open. He found Sengoku standing at the foot of the bed.

His skin crawled.

He hadn't heard the door, hadn't heard footsteps, hadn't heard anything. 

An Admiral's level of presence control was a myth he'd written off as an exaggeration until this exact moment.

Either that, or crippling fatigue had rendered his senses useless.

He genuinely could not remember the last time he'd slept properly, and his body had finally collected the debt. 

In front of him, Rosinante hadn’t stirred, curled on his other side now. Doflamingo looked back at Sengoku. The older man tipped his head towards the door before turning and walking out.

Doflamingo pushed himself up off the floor with a painful pop in his spine. He arched his back and twisted his torso, working out the final knot, and headed out.

They ended up in the kitchen. Coffee was already made. Sengoku poured two mugs without asking, set one in front of Doflamingo, and sat down across the table.

Doflamingo kept his hands flat on the table and didn't reach for the mug.

Behind Sengoku, the first light of dawn was creeping through the window, the sky slowly changing from black to grey.

"There's no poison inside," Sengoku said, stirring his cup. "I wouldn't poison my son's... brother. Not after I know what you are to him."

Doflamingo's hands remained unmoving against the table. Sengoku watched him for a moment before deciding to cut straight to the point.

"What happened to him?"

"He was stabbed in the thigh."

It didn't surprise Sengoku, but it also wasn't the answer he was looking for.

Rosinante had been stabbed, shot, and impaled over the years, and not once had the boy come running home over an injury.

"I'm not a fool, Doflamingo." Sengoku took a sip of his coffee. "We both know that's not why he came home."

Home.

A scowl formed across Doflamingo's face. The word stung like salt in his already throbbing wound.

As if living in Dressrosa with Doflamingo was nothing more than a temporary arrangement.

"Rosinante will tell me once he's ready," Sengoku continued calmly. He opened his bag of rice crackers and poured some out into a bowl. "I'm only asking because I wanted to hear your side."

Doflamingo looked down at the mug in front of him. Steam no longer rose from it.

"If you're not willing to talk, I understand."

Silence stretched between them for several long minutes. Sengoku assumed that would be the end of it. Just as he was about to get up, Doflamingo spoke.

"You've met our daughter, Rosalia." His voice was already strained. "There was supposed to be another one."

Sengoku’s hand stopped halfway to his mug.

He'd braced himself for something terrible.

Something like a dangerous political conflict within the Donquixote Pirates. Something like a violent uprising in Dressrosa.

Not this.

"I was in Vespa for work." Doflamingo's hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. "I made the mistake of signing a contract that had been stolen from another pirate. He came looking for revenge."

His eyes dropped to the table. He closed them and swallowed the bitterness climbing into his throat.

"And my mistake cost us our child."

Sengoku reached across the table and pushed Doflamingo's untouched coffee a little closer to him.

Slowly, Doflamingo picked up the cup with quivering hands and took a small sip.

"I know my presence here is not welcome," he said. "But I'm not leaving until I've made things right with him."

Sengoku picked up a rice cracker and bit into it.

"Good. Take all the time you need. My priority will always be Rosi's wellbeing."

Rosinante had woken to the sound of Doflamingo's back cracking as he stood.

He'd meant to go back to sleep, but curiosity got the better of him. Before he could stop himself, his fingers snapped. The silent bubble slipped around him as he followed the two men down the hallway.

Hiding behind the wall, Rosinante listened to the entire conversation. Listened to Doflamingo confess everything to Sengoku.

Doflamingo, who did not trust anyone. Doflamingo, who had never once let a single subordinate see the inside of his head.

Now, back in his room, Rosinante's face was buried in the pillows, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed in the dark.

He'd cried more in the past weeks than he had in years. Every time he thought he had nothing left, more tears seemed to form.

He hated this. Hated that Doflamingo blamed himself for all of it.

Hated that Doflamingo was grieving alone, carrying the pain by himself because Rosinante had made himself impossible to grieve with.

Hated that he'd built the distance between them with his own two hands, and yet did nothing to repair it when Doflamingo was trying his best.

His brother had swallowed his pride and confessed everything to someone he considered an enemy.

All because he was desperate to stay by Rosinante's side.

Rosinante clutched the stuffed goat so hard that the decades-old seam along its belly finally gave out.

With a pop of thread, a cluster of dry, grey cotton spilled over his hand. Rosinante only squeezed harder, clinging to the broken toy until he finally passed out from sheer exhaustion.