Chapter Text
Winter in the North Blue was a wretched thing. It was bitterly cold, with sharp wind and creeping damp that leeched its way into Rosinante’s bones, breathing a second life into old injuries that should have been long-healed. He never missed Marineford and its steady warmth more, strange weather of the Grand Line intersecting the Red Line notwithstanding.
It was snowing outside when he woke. He felt it in his joints before he even opened his eyes, the pain worse than usual. Seas, it was awful, its claws sunk into his chest, a reminder of the bullets Law dug from it. Rosinante wanted nothing more than to remain curled in bed, letting himself be supported by the mattress and pillows. He gave in for a few minutes longer, savouring what he was sure would be the most comfortable he was all day. Then he forced himself up, organizing his limbs beneath him. They were stiff and wobbly, each movement drawing out a wince.
Rosinante didn’t bother dressing. He wrapped his dressing gown over his pajamas and glanced outside. The sky was full of big, heavy flakes that painted the surrounding forest a sea of white. It was so heavy that the trees bent beneath it. Great.
The stairs were a challenge but one Rosinante was used to meeting. He took the steps slowly, his weight supported by the railing, his other hand braced against the wall. With as much pain as he was already in, the last thing he wanted was to fall. Law would never let him live it down if he did.
Somebody had already stoked the fireplace in the main room, filling it with pleasant warmth. Voices drifted in quietly from the kitchen. Rosinante paused long enough to take a deep breath and plaster a smile on his face. He hoped it was convincing enough to keep the boys from noticing how careful his movements were. That was probably futile when it came to Law, but Law was less likely to call him out in front of the others. Rosinante was probably in for a private scolding instead.
He entered the kitchen. The boys—only three of them—fell silent. Bepo already looked guilty, but that wasn’t an indication of guilt in and of itself. It was Bepo after all.
“Cora! You’re awake!” Shachi said.
Rosinante paused, blinking as he tried to make sense of that. “Yes?” he said.
“We made coffee,” Penguin offered.
Oh thank the seas. Rosinante went straight for it, choosing to ignore Shachi’s reaction to his presence. He poured himself a cup and wrapped his hands around it, hoping it would hide their trembling. Heat radiated through the ceramic. Maybe he would be able to use his fingers soon.
“No Law this morning?” he asked, casting his eyes over the group. Law was usually the first of them awake, joining Rosinante in the kitchen while cooking breakfast, to make sure Rosinante didn’t burn the house down, he claimed--but it wasn’t unheard of for him to sleep in. Insomnia and nightmares made it difficult to get a full night’s rest, something that Rosinante understood intimately. Law slept when he could.
The boys exchanged a meaningful look, something silent passing between them. Rosinante raised an eyebrow.
It was Bepo who spoke. “I don’t think he’s feeling well this morning, sorry.”
Rosinante paused, the coffee halfway to his lips. “Oh?”
Bepo looked down, his paws fidgeting. “He slept in my bed last night,” he said, which also wasn’t unusual. Law often crawled in with Bepo or Rosinante when the nightmares were too much to handle alone. “He didn’t seem very happy to be awake when I got up, so I thought I’d let him sleep longer. Sorry.” The apology was a whisper. Law must not have been particularly gentle with his refusal.
Rosinante sighed. He pushed away from the counter and put his hand on Bepo’s head. “You did the right thing,” he said, and was rewarded with a small smile. These kids, Rosinante thought. He adored them; all of them. “Have you three eaten?” he asked. He usually had breakfast ready when they came downstairs. Law always said his cooking was dubious at best, but the boys still ate it, so it couldn’t be too bad.
“Yeah, I made eggs. Shachi and Bepo already did the dishes too,” Penguin said. He leaned his chair backwards, balancing it on two legs. His sense of balance was better than Rosinante’s. He paused for a long moment. “It’s almost eleven,” he added, deceptively casual, like it was an afterthought instead of the deliberate comment Rosinante knew it to be.
“It’s what?” Rosinante asked. He turned, searching for the clock and-
Penguin was right. How did he sleep in so late? The last time Rosinante did was when they first arrived on Swallow, and that was after being shot.
“We thought you could probably use the sleep too,” Penguin said, shrugging one shoulder.
“Apparently,” Rosinante replied flatly. He shook his head and leaned against the counter again, hoping to take some weight off his knees. He downed his coffee, ignoring the way it burned his throat. “I’m going to check on Law,” he said.
The boys made various affirmative sounds, casting him quick glances. They must not have planned on going to work today. Nobody would blame them for it, between the snow and the distance. Bepo was the only one who truly enjoyed this weather. Rosinante was a little surprised he wasn’t outside playing in the snow.
The bedroom Law and Bepo shared was in the attic. Rosinante rarely had reason to go there, unless he was woken up by one of Law’s nightmares. They were less frequent now, or maybe Law was just better at hiding them. Rosinante hoped it was the former. He never minded sitting up with Law, no matter how long it took for Law’s tears to dry or his breathing to steady. Knowing Law, though, it could have been either.
It would have been nice to bring a cup of coffee, but with how difficult Rosinante found each step, he knew it was a bad idea. He definitely would have dropped it long before he made it to the top.
He paused long enough to knock quietly on the door, and then opened it a crack.
The room was dim. Rosinante could just barely make out the lump of blankets on Bepo’s bed.
“Law?” he called, his stomach twisting when there was no answer. He opened the door fully and stepped inside. The floor was cold beneath his feet. He padded across it and slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his joints complaining with the movement.
“You alright there, kiddo?” he asked, peeling back the blankets just enough to see Law’s scrunched face and check for a fever. Law was maybe a little warm, but not concerningly so.
Law mumbled something, burrowing deeper into the blankets, and, tellingly, closer to Rosinante.
“What was that?” Rosinante asked. He brushed Law’s hair out of his face to see the grimace set there more easily.
“Hurts,” Law muttered.
Oh.
Rosinante’s heart broke. He should have foreseen this. If he was in pain, of course Law was. The Amber Lead had damaged Law’s bones, something not even the Ope Ope no Mi could fix.
“Oh kid,” he said. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?” He ran his fingers through Law’s hair and was relieved to see Law relax a little.
Law let out a deliberate breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, curling closer until his head pressed against Rosinante’s thigh. Rosinante rubbed his back instead.
“Do you have any painkillers left?” Rosinante asked. They had a small supply of medication stolen from hospitals when Law was sickest, but it was difficult to come by in the North Blue. The climate wasn’t temperate enough to grow the plants needed, which meant most medications had to be shipped in. Some Marine vessels carried medical supplies to World Government affiliated nations, but very little of that made its way to Swallow. Law avoided using them as much as possible because of it, relying instead on weaker remedies, like willow bark. Rosinante didn’t think that would be enough today though.
“I think so,” Law said. “In the kitchen.”
Rosinante hummed in understanding. Law’s Devil Fruit couldn’t reach that far when his focus was splintered by pain and fatigue. Walking downstairs would probably have been too much for him, even if Law would be more comfortable there.
“Alright, come on,” he said, picking up Law, blanket and all, the way he used to when Law was too sick to walk.
It said something that Law didn’t fight him, just muttered something about being able to walk just fine—a definite lie—and Cora being stupid. He was slumped in Rosinante’s arms regardless. It was terrible seeing Law so unwell, but Rosinante couldn’t deny the warmth he felt every time Law reached for him.
Law wasn’t heavy, even now that he was eating more. Rosinante had carried him around for months while he kicked and screamed. It shouldn’t have been any harder now, but it was. Rosinante’s shoulders ached, his joints pulling. Every step felt like broken glass. He gritted his teeth and didn’t let it show. It was fine; he was fine. Two flights of stairs was nothing.
He would have carried Law back then even if it felt like this. He would carry Law across the damn planet if he had to.
A long time ago, back when Garp took an interest in Rosinante’s training, Rosinante learned that using Observation Haki helped with his balance. He couldn't do it all the time, or the migraine it caused would leave him trapped in bed for days, but he often used it to fight, and he always did when carrying Law. It didn't matter that today his head felt like it was being driven through with splints.
Bepo met them at the bottom of the stairs with wide, worried eyes. Rosinante gave a strained smile and hoped Bepo wouldn’t notice.
“Are you okay, Law?” Bepo asked, peeking at the bundle in Rosinante’s arms.
“‘m fine,” Law muttered into Rosinante’s shoulder. He didn’t move.
“He’s just not feeling well. Can you go grab my coat from my room? The big feathered one he likes?” Rosinante asked. Bepo nodded and sprinted up the stairs with the energy only a child could have. Rosinante was just glad he wouldn’t have to get it himself. It would make Law feel better to have it. It was an odd source of comfort, a reminder that they were both here and alive.
Law let out a quiet sound when Rosinante set him onto the couch. The others graciously ignored it.
“Want tea?” Shachi offered. “Penguin’s making some.”
Law blinked slowly at them and then scowled. “Fine,” he said, looking away, as if accepting their kindness was a hardship. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, and grimaced.
“I’ll get the medicine,” Rosinante said. He would leave Shachi to collect the pillows and blankets scattered around the room and make sure Law was comfortable. They had more than enough. It was easier to have spares downstairs than for the boys to empty their beds whenever they wanted to pile together in the evenings. They’d fallen asleep down here more than once.
In the kitchen, Penguin stirred something on the stove, a kettle cooling beside it. Several mugs lined the counter, the tea steeping.
“Oatmeal,” he said when Rosinante glanced at the pot. Unsurprising—oatmeal and soup were about all Penguin could make. “I figured you and Law should probably eat something.”
As unappealing as eating sounded, Rosinante knew there was no way Law would eat if he didn’t. Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo wouldn’t let him lie about it either.
“Thanks,” he said, his stomach already curling with nausea. He opened a cupboard and started sorting through Law’s carefully labelled medications, searching for the bottle of morphine. It was worryingly light. Opening it up, Rosinante sighed. There were only a few pills left. At least Law only took half of one each dose.
Penguin handed him one of the mugs. Rosinante brought it and the pills back to Law where Shachi was helping organize the pillows behind Law's back.
“Can you fill up a hot water bottle?” Rosinante asked.
“Oh, yeah of course!” Shachi said, straightening before Law could get tired of the fussing.
Rosinante nodded in thanks. “Penguin’s making oatmeal. Want to wait to eat first?” he asked.
Law made a face and shook his head. He accepted the bottle and fished out half a pill with small fingers. It always reminded Rosinante of just how young Law was, chest aching with memories of their time spent traveling and the days Law was so sick and in so much pain he couldn’t walk.
“Thanks,” Law muttered, exchanging the bottle for the tea and swallowing the remaining half-pill from last time.
“Are you coming to sit with us, Cora?” Bepo asked, appearing downstairs with Rosinante’s old coat. It still smelled like old cigarettes, a scent no amount of airing out could disperse, but Law didn’t seem to mind when Bepo wrapped it around him.
“He’d better,” Law grumbled into his mug.
Rosinante let out a low laugh. “I might as well. You know how Penguin gets when anybody tries interrupting his cooking.” He moved some of the blankets so he could sit next to Law. The relief from being off his feet was immediate, and Rosinante let out a heavy breath. He leaned back and lifted an arm when he felt Law squirming. A moment later, Law’s weight settled against his side.
“Good,” Law said. “Don’t go anywhere.”
Warmth radiated from both Law and the fire. Rosinante felt it and relaxed further into the couch cushions.
It didn’t take long until Penguin and Shachi returned, carrying two bowls and several cups between them. Shachi had a hot water bottle tucked under one arm. Bepo immediately jumped up to help.
“Here, this is for both of you,” Penguin said, handing them each a bowl of oatmeal.
They passed the water bottle to Law, who shoved it against his leg. He then gave Rosinante a pointed look. Rosinante accepted the bowl and forced himself to eat.
At least the oatmeal was good, smooth and flavoured with honey. Law picked at it until Rosinante nudged him carefully. With a sigh, Law started to copy him.
Penguin and Shachi joined Bepo on the floor, passing around cups of tea, or hot chocolate in Bepo’s case.
The rest of the day passed slowly. Rosinante watched as the boys lounged around the room, working on their various activities. Bepo was wood carving with a small knife, something he apparently learned back on Zou, while Penguin and Shachi tinkered with another of Wolf’s cast-off inventions. As long as nothing started smoking and nobody started bleeding, Rosinante couldn’t bring himself to worry. His thoughts were already fuzzy, exhausted and with pain crawling up his spine.
When Law shifted, groaning, Rosinante combed fingers through his hair.
“This is bullshit,” Law said, his voice muffled in the fabric of Rosinante’s robe and so quiet that Rosinante doubted the others heard. Well, Shachi or Penguin, at least, who were currently arguing about the rules to the game they were playing. Bepo’s ear twitched towards them, so there was no way of knowing either way.
“I know, kid,” Rosinante muttered, pressing his face against Law’s hair. “Do you want me to bring you back upstairs? You can sleep in my bedroom if it’s easier."
Law shook his head. Rosinante couldn’t see his expression, but it was probably a grimace. Wanting to stay downstairs was as close to an admission of fondness as Law would allow toward anyone else. Even Rosinante was more likely to be called an idiot than have Law admit to anything, but that was alright; Rosinante already knew.
Dinner was soup the three boys managed to cook, since Rosinante was designated as Law’s pillow. They ate before returning to the couch. Law dozed beneath another dose of painkillers, leaving Rosinante to worry once more about what they would do when they ran out. Perhaps he could rob another hospital? It was risky, especially any hospitals nearby, but Rosinante could do it. It would have to wait until the ache in his bones settled though. Hopefully Law wouldn’t need many more doses before then.
“Cora?” Penguin asked, Rosinante opened his eyes to find Penguin hovering just out of reach. It must have been late. The lamps were burning low and the sky outside was dark. He must have fallen asleep. The boys knew better than to wake him through touch. That was a mistake somebody only made once. “Sorry to wake you, but the rest of us are going to bed. I thought you and Law might appreciate a mattress.”
It took a moment for Rosinante’s thoughts to clear enough to understand.
“Right, sorry; thanks,” he croaked. He cleared his throat and shot Penguin what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Law always said it was just creepy.
Law was fast asleep, his face smushed against Rosinante’s chest. Rosinante took a moment to watch him, savouring the warmth that bloomed at the reminder of the little family they made. Then, Rosinante peeled the coat away from Law and picked him up in one swift movement.
It was a mistake.
Something shifted in his knee, stabbing pain exploding outward. His leg buckled and Rosinante went down to one leg, cradling Law against him in case he fell. He banged his other leg on the way down, but that did little to distract from the pain.
“Whoa! You okay?” Penguin said, steadying Rosinante with a hand on his shoulder.
Rosinante gritted his teeth. “Fine,” he said. “Just lost my balance is all.”
In his arms, Law stirred and gave a small scowl. “Idiot. Be more careful,” he muttered, but it sounded fond. Rosinante laughed, the pressure loosening until the pain was a little easier to bear. At least Law wasn’t awake enough to realize what the problem actually was.
“Sorry, kid,” Rosinante said. He stood more slowly this time, testing his leg before putting weight on it. It held, though he was sure there would be a massive bruise there tomorrow.
Law huffed but rested a cheek against Rosinante’s shoulder. Rosinante followed Penguin upstairs, taking each step carefully. Already he could hear Penguin and Shachi talking as they prepared for bed, their words muffled by the walls. On days like today, Rosinante would usually bring Law to sleep in his own bed, if only to keep an eye on him overnight, but Rosinante wasn’t sure he could keep this up. He desperately needed time to himself, no matter how guilty he felt about it.
Bepo was still awake, curled up with a Sora comic. Law got him into the habit of reading before bed to practice.
“Mind if I leave Law with you?” Rosinante asked, his head ducked to keep from banging it against the rafters. He had no idea why Law liked it so much up here, given the lack of insulation. Bepo made sense; he got too hot sleeping elsewhere. At least the chimney Law’s bed was pushed up against gave off some residual heat.
“Oh! Yeah, sure,” Bepo said. He moved over, making room. It was a good thing that Law was so small. Even with Bepo’s large size, they could both easily fit into the slim bed.
Law grumbled at being put down but immediately curled into Bepo’s side, burying his face into Bepo’s soft fur. Bepo laughed and wrapped an arm around him, pulling up the thick wool blanket to cover Law’s shoulders.
“Alright, sleep well boys. Call me if you need anything,” Rosinante said.
“Night Cora!” Bepo called after him as he retreated from the attic.
Out of sight, Rosinante took a moment to breathe. He bent over to rub his knee before continuing down the stairs. The same ritual was completed with Penguin and Shachi, making sure they had everything they needed and wishing them goodnight before finally, finally, reaching his own bedroom.
Rosinante closed the door behind him and groaned quietly, letting his shoulders droop. His masks came away with them, leaving him raw and exposed; aching. He limped toward the bed and tossed his house robe aside, leaving it in a crumple on the small desk beside the dresser. Crawling into bed felt like heaven. One of the boys left a hot brick wrapped in flannel beneath the covers for him, heating the bed to a pleasant temperature against the room's cold. Rosinante moved it closer to his knee. His body longed to give into its desire for rest, but Rosinante held off a little longer.
Hidden beneath his bed was a bottle of liquor. Rosinante avoided drinking it, usually, but nights like tonight made it necessary. He had no way of reducing pain otherwise, and he knew he couldn’t sleep otherwise. He overdid it today, even doing less than usual, and he would pay for it tomorrow, but Rosinante had little choice. The boys needed him.
Only when he drank enough to feel the burning liquid hit his blood did Rosinante pull the blankets over himself, letting the warmth envelop him. Every joint screamed as he finally relaxed, but the alcohol quieted them just enough to drift off to sleep.