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Law doesn't remember how long it's been since he last saw the ocean.
There's a window in the corner of his room that overlooks a patch of green; a tiny portrait of the world outside, and beyond it, a high wall of stone. Trees hang over the top of the wall, casting shadows like dark lace on the glass.
There used to be a pair of mourning doves that would settle on the windowsill and peer in at him, and he'd sit at his desk and watch them back. Then one day, Doflamingo brought him a cage with the same two doves inside it, and made Law choose which one to kill. Law chose the left one, because if he hadn't, Doflamingo would have killed both of them. The surviving dove sits on his desk now, next to an open book about taxidermy. The window never opens again.
Doflamingo brings him things sometimes. Books and journals mostly, sometimes trinkets and oddities—fanciful brooches set with colourful feathers, or stones cut to imitate the likeness of animals. A music box shaped like a heart. A windup bird carved from wood. A clock in the shape of a ship, its sails fluttering with every tick of its gears.
One day, Doflamingo presents him with a silver collar engraved with the Donquixote family crest, and clasps it around Law's neck. "Only the best for my Corazon," he says, gently tipping Law's chin up.
Years ago, Law would've ripped it off. Now, he feels nothing as it settles against his skin. The chains that bind him are forged from something far stronger than metal.
He turns away and says nothing.
Defiance is a part of his appeal to Doflamingo; it feeds into his appetite for domination, so Law shows him enough to stay interesting. But he knows the limits of how much he can push back before Doflamingo considers it outright rebellion. It's a dangerous game, walking that line, but he plays it nonetheless. He tempers it with deference, and when it counts, he makes himself useful.
Law would rather die first before giving in completely, but until then, he can keep up the pretence of docility well enough.
***
There's a new face in the prison.
It's the straw hat that catches Law's attention first, a vivid splash of colour in a colourless space, then the scar under his right eye. The man is slumped against the wall of his cell at an angle that should be impossible. His arms are bound by sea stone cuffs, and his skin is battered and bruised, with streaks of dried blood lining his bare torso.
The prisoner lifts his head, and their eyes meet. There's no fear on his face, only wary curiosity.
"Who are you?" the prisoner asks. "Are you one of Mingo's lackeys?"
Mingo. Law doesn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. This man has no idea he's gotten himself into, or what he's up against.
He opens the cell door and crosses the threshold, digging out his medical kit from his bag. The wounds aren't too severe; he stitches up the larger gashes, then binds the worst of the injuries with clean gauze. The prisoner's flesh has an odd rubbery quality to it; a devil fruit, probably.
The prisoner watches him the entire time in silence. His face is a mess of dried blood and dirt, so Law pulls out a cloth to wipe it down.
"Thanks for patching me up," the prisoner says, earnest and disgustingly bright. "You're a pretty nice guy for a lackey."
Law pauses for a brief moment to take that in. Then he pours a generous helping of antiseptic over a cloth, and slaps it over the wound on the prisoner's cheek.
The prisoner yelps, squirming away. "Ow! What'd you do that for?"
"I'm a doctor, not a lackey," Law says coolly, putting away his supplies.
"I've got a doctor on my crew, too. His name is Chopper, and he's awesome!"
"Is that so."
"Yep! I'm Monkey D. Luffy, by the way. What's your name?"
Law takes a moment to observe the man before him—really look at him—for the first time since he walked into the cell. Beneath the bruises and grime his features are youthful, perhaps only a handful of years younger than Law himself. He has an idiot's smile, beaming up at Law without any trace of guile. He carries that ill-fated name openly. Law keeps his own hidden like a secret to be smothered out.
"None of your business," Law says, closing up his bag. He stands to leave, but a hand shoots out to latch onto his leg.
"Don't leave yet!" Luffy says. "It's boring down here all by myself. And I'm hungry. You got any food?"
Law looks at him. Luffy grins back, like a fool.
Fools don't survive in this world for long. Law knows this from bitter experience.
The packaged onigiri in Law's coat suddenly feels a hundred times heavier.
He tosses it at Luffy without letting himself think too hard about what he's doing, and leaves before he can regret it.
***
A few hours later, Law's back in the cell, tending to Monkey D. Luffy again. This time he's sporting a fresh new cut across his chest that bleeds through his bandages, and a collection of dark purple splotches on his ribs and back.
"Hey!" Luffy says, way too enthusiastically. His lips are split and bloodied, and there's another ugly welt on his cheek. "You came back!"
Law wonders if he'd hit his head one too many times during interrogation. He wordlessly opens his bag and sets about removing the old bandages, dropping them into a bloody pile at his feet.
"Can you get me out of here?" Luffy says, lifting his arms. "These cuffs are really starting to hurt."
Law snaps on a pair of gloves. "No."
"Why not?" Luffy says.
"I'm your enemy," Law says, and half out of habit, he adds, "Keep still," and begins closing up the wound on Luffy's chest.
"But you gave me food. And you're helping me," Luffy says, watching him work. He frowns as if trying to connect his last two neurons together. "Why would you help me if you're my enemy?"
"Because I'm a doctor," Law says, without missing a beat. It's not even a lie. It's the reason he took up medicine in the first place, back when he was a foolish boy who thought that helping people could ever make a difference in this world.
It's an answer that appeases Luffy enough to fall silent for a few blissful minutes, though he keeps shifting about as much as his chains will allow, and staring at Law with a strange intensity. Law's about done with his work when Luffy suddenly speaks again.
"Your lashes are long," he says.
Law stares at him. "What?"
"You've got really long lashes," Luffy repeats, grinning wide. "They're pretty. Like you."
Law's being hit on by a moronic pirate chained up in the Donquixote family dungeon who's unlikely to see the light of day ever again. This is officially a new low point in his life.
"You must've been dropped on your head as a child," Law says.
"How did you know that?" Luffy says, too genuinely surprised to be sarcastic.
He's got to have a concussion. There's no other explanation for this nonsense. Law holds up a finger. "How many fingers am I holding up?"
"One."
Law moves that finger left and right. Luffy's eyes follow it without a problem. Law flicks him on the forehead.
"Ow! Hey!" Luffy rubs at the spot. "What was that for? And why are you asking me about your fingers? You need help counting?"
Law brings his middle finger up in the air for a few seconds before lowering it, the universal gesture for fuck you. He ignores the disgruntled noise Luffy makes and slaps on the last few layers of gauze over his chest, and through it all Luffy watches him silently, dark eyes gleaming.
"Hey," Luffy says. "You never told me your name."
"Corazon," Law says, after a brief pause. He wonders why he even bothered giving this dumbass a response at all.
Luffy scrunches up his nose. "Cora—what?"
"It's Corazon," Law repeats slowly.
"Eh, that's too hard to say," Luffy says. "I'm just gonna call you Cora."
There's a low roar in his head and his vision tunnels out. Before he knows it, he's gripping Luffy by the collar, rattling him against his chains. "Don't call me that," Law says, very quiet.
Luffy frowns at him for a moment, and a flash of something like understanding that crosses his face. He nods once, seriously, and Law lets him go, trembling fingers curling into fists. It's been so long. His chest feels as if it's been carved out, the sharp blow of loss fresh as if it had only happened yesterday rather than thirteen years ago. That name isn't meant for him. It belongs to the dead.
He centers himself with a slow breath. When he looks up, Luffy is still staring at him. "Then what should I call you?"
Law's under no obligation to give him his real name, but Doflamingo would undoubtedly hate it if he did, which is exactly why he says it: "Trafalgar Law."
His name sounds foreign in his own mouth.
"Law," Luffy says, as if trying out the shape of the word in his mouth. He grins. "Trafa—Trofa—Torao."
"What?" Law says. "No. It’s Trafalgar."
"Toraf—Torao."
There are moments in life where Law regrets making decisions. This is not the worst one, but it's up there. Law shoves his supplies back into his bag, preparing to leave before he can commit a homicide, and then the echo of footsteps breaks the quiet of the prison, and they both turn to see Doflamingo at the entrance.
Doflamingo must have come directly from a shower; his hair is still damp and curling at the ends, with stray drops of water dripping onto his feathered coat. In the shadow of the doorway it almost looks like he's bleeding, a ghost of Cora manifested, but the illusion vanishes as soon as he steps into the light. Law stares at him; heavy bruises line the edge of his jaw, trailing down his torso. He's never seen Doflamingo suffer any injury beyond superficial scratches before.
Luffy's face hardens, and he pulls against the chains. "Mingo! Take off these stupid shackles and fight me again!"
Did you do this, Law thinks.
Doflamingo glances at Luffy without a trace of emotion on his face, then turns to Law. "Come here," he says.
Law goes to stand at Doflamingo's side, reaching out to take the offered hand as he's expected to, and he's startled by the abrupt tug that brings him stumbling forward but recovers in time to avoid crashing into Doflamingo's hip. There's a hand dragging through his hair and catching at the back of his head, making a statement of ownership, and when Law glances up, Doflamingo is looking past him at Luffy, unblinking.
"It's time to attend to the masses, my dear Corazon," Doflamingo says, teeth gleaming. "Leave this rat to rot."
Law hears the chains rattling behind him. He doesn't look back as he's led away.
***
The patients come to him in droves—the sick and injured and dying, everyone from nobles to normal civilians, all seeking a cure for whatever ails them. There's a section on the first floor of the palace dedicated solely to his work, where he spends most of his days seeing to patients. His sea stone cuffs are removed when he's on duty, when he trains, and whenever Doflamingo calls upon him to demonstrate his powers. When he's not busy with those tasks, they stay locked in place.
He's liked by the populace, beloved even, as Corazon the miracle doctor. He refuses all monetary payment, and in turn they bring gifts to the clinic: flowers, handmade trinkets and crafts, letters filled with heartfelt gratitude; All gifts that Doflamingo displays on shelves and walls as if he's proud of Law's work: well done Corazon, see what you can bring to this world under my wing, how many worthless lives you can save; it is your hands that heal them but it is I who holds your leash.
Law wants to toss all those gifts out the window.
There's a new face today. He's a man with a shock of green hair and dark shades, three swords at his hip, and a white moustache that's so obviously fake Law wonders why he even bothers to wear it. How he managed to get past the guards, Law has no idea, but as long as he is in Law's domain, he's a patient.
"My left eye hurts," the man drawls.
Law tells him to take his shades off. The man's left eye is closed, with a scar running across the lids. Law asks if he has any vision in that eye at all. The man grunts noncommittally, and refuses to elaborate further when Law prods him for more information.
"Do you want it fixed?" Law says, growing irritated. "If not, I have other patients to see."
The man shrugs one shoulder. "Sure, if you can."
Today is shaping up to be an exceptionally annoying day. First that idiot pirate in the dungeon, now this guy with his three swords and his fake moustache. Law opens a room, about to run a scan, and then there's a soldier peeking through the door, looking around wildly until he spots Law.
"Corazon! Sir! I'm sorry to interrupt your work, but we need you in the prison again!"
Law lets the room flicker out, glad for an interruption. "Is the new prisoner causing trouble?"
The soldier nods furiously. "He keeps trying to tear his arms off to escape!"
"What?" Law says.
***
True to the soldier's word, when Law reaches the hidden prison in the depths of the palace, Luffy is contorting his rubbery body into various angles, in a very valiant but useless effort to remove his arms from their sockets, the absolute lunatic. And standing right outside the cell is Viola, staring calmly at Law as if she isn't breaking the rules by being here at all.
Luffy freezes once he spots Law entering the cell, and beams as if he hasn't been trying to rip his limbs off seconds ago. "You're back!" he says. "Did you bring any food with you?"
"No, and stop squirming," Law snaps. "I have enough work without you adding to it." He turns to Viola and arches a brow: do you have a death wish.
"Doflamingo doesn't know that I'm here," Viola says, as if that's not already obvious. She's staring at him intently, and it strikes Law that she's putting her faith in him right now, gambling on the hope that he might be a potential ally in whatever scheme she's planning.
They've both established a mutual understanding over the years, as fellow unwilling members of the Donquixote family, navigating their lives in the cage they've been trapped in. She tells him about the world outside, about her country, about what happens beyond the walls of the palace, and in return he covers for her when she slips away from her duties to check in with people that she's not supposed to be in contact with. Unlike Law, she has living people that she cares about, a whole country depending on her. Law has nothing but an overdue debt to pay.
"This is treason," Law says, neutrally.
Viola lifts her chin. "Will you tell the young master?"
Law glances at Luffy, who looks back and forth between them, brows furrowed as if trying to make sense of the exchange.
"No. What does this idiot have to do with your plans?" Law says.
Viola smiles thinly, and over Luffy's squawk of indignation, says, "He nearly fought Doflamingo to a standstill. You didn't see it, Corazon. He made Doflamingo bleed. And his crewmates are incredibly strong too."
"He lost that fight," Law says.
"Only because he was outnumbered, and fighting alone."
This is how it begins: with hope. It unfurls like a sprout catching light after years of being held in the dark. A dangerous feeling, one that only brings pain in the end. He hasn't felt anything close to it for ten years, but he sees it on Viola's face and hears it in her voice, the small spark of it fanning into a blaze.
"It doesn't matter what you think," Luffy says suddenly. "I'm gonna find Mingo and beat him up anyway."
"You've already lost once," Law says. "What gives you the confidence to claim that you’ll win the next time?"
"Because I just gotta," Luffy says. "Mingo hurt my friends, and he's hurting this country. That means I have to kick Mingo's ass. And I will."
Law stares at Luffy, with his chained hands and frayed edges, still unyielding. Defiance in its purest form. There's an untapped well of strength here, one that will not break easily. Law doesn't believe in heroes or justice; he doesn't believe that this idiot can defeat Doflamingo in any conceivable way. But it'd be a shame for his journey to end here.
Viola watches Law, waiting for his answer. Her hands betray her anxiety, curling into the folds of her dress.
"I don't share your optimism," Law says finally. He opens a room wide enough to cover the entire cell, and the second he does that Viola has her daggers drawn and ready to strike Law down. Law pays her no mind and swaps out the sea stone cuffs and chains on Luffy with a few stray rocks on the ground.
Luffy gets to his feet, stretching his newly freed arms, and beams at Law. "I was right! You're a good guy after all, Torao!"
Law feels Viola's questioning gaze burning into the side of his face. "It's Trafalgar," he says, gritting his teeth. "Not Torao. And I'm not a good guy."
"Yeah, whatever you say." Luffy rolls his shoulders, testing out the limits of his newfound freedom, and clambers to his feet. "Okay, I'm ready to kick Mingo's ass now."
"Your funeral," Law says dryly.
Viola comes to stand beside him, with her daggers tucked away. "I’m sorry," she says. "You surprised me."
"You thought I would sell you out to Doffy," Law says. When Viola bites her lip, he rolls his eyes. "It's a reasonable assumption to make. You have more to lose than I do."
"Torao wouldn't do that," Luffy says confidently. "He's helping us! Is that blue thing your devil fruit power? It looks really cool."
Law is quickly losing the desire to be helpful. He throws a pointed look at Viola in a way that he hopes conveys the depths of his incredulity, are you sure this insane moron is the best you've got, and Viola's mouth twitches with a suppressed smile before wavering.
"Doflamingo will know that you helped us," she says.
There's only so many ways to get someone out of sea stone shackles designed without a keyhole, and Law's trip to the dungeons has definitely not gone unnoticed.
"Evidently."
Viola swallows and fists her hands in her dress. "Come with us, Corazon. Please. This could be your chance at freedom."
But Law doesn't need to be free anymore. He's outlived that desire long ago.
"I have unfinished business," Law says. "It's best if I stay."
He turns before he can see her expression, opening up a room that should be large enough to take him back to the first floor of the palace, but there's a hand catching his wrist before he can leave, and when he looks back, Luffy is staring at him with an unsettling blankness, eyes dark and solemn and reading into Law's soul.
"Will I see you again?" Luffy says.
Law disentangles himself from the touch, and leaves without answering.
***
The caged dove makes a soft cooing noise when Law returns to his room. It doesn't have a name, and it never will. It sits in its gilded cage and waits for death to come.
There are an infinite number of ways to die in this world: disease, violence, starvation, war, to name a few. Eventually, you become another decomposing body left in the ground. Sometimes Law wonders if he's one of the bodies, if he could only be so lucky. He isn't dead. He's alive, and to think otherwise is to surrender to the despair that Doflamingo wants him to succumb to.
For the first time in months, Law opens the window to let the breeze in. The pages of his taxidermy book rustle with the draft, and a few loose papers slide off the desk and onto the floor. Law doesn't bother to pick them up. He stares out at the hanging shadows of the trees beyond the wall, and wonders if Cora's spirit is watching over him now.
He brings the cage to the window, and unlatches the door. The dove doesn't move for a long moment, peering at Law as if uncertain of what's expected of it, and Law has to lift it out of the cage and hold it up to the open air. It warbles softly and takes flight.
Goodbye, Law thinks, and closes the window.
Law only has to wait a few minutes before the door clicks open. Doflamingo steps into his peripheral vision, closing the space between them in slow measured steps.
"Where is he," Doflamingo says.
Law keeps his eyes on the trees outside. "You have to be more specific."
Suddenly there's a hand gripping his throat, squeezing just hard enough to rob him of air but not quite enough to cut it off entirely, lifting him off his feet. He's brought close to Doflamingo's face, inches from his jagged-glass smile.
"I'm not in the mood for games, Corazon," Doflamingo says. "Where is Monkey D. Luffy?"
"It's too late now," Law says, smiling viciously. "He's gone beyond your reach. Perhaps he'll come back around."
There's a twitch under Doflamingo's left eye. His fingers tighten fractionally. "I've allowed your little rebellions, but you've forgotten your place."
"No more than I've forgotten Cora," Law says, and he's struck with a brief flash of satisfaction at the unbridled fury on Doflamingo's face, and then he's thrown across the room and crashing into a wall. Agony explodes across his skull and back.
Doflamingo is on him before he can regain his bearings, dragging him back up by the neck. He says, "Thirteen years, and my foolish brother still haunts me." He laughs, but there's no humour in it. "You would turn your back on me, your saviour, for the ghost of a dead man?"
Law tastes iron in his mouth.
"Are you going to kill me, Doffy?" Law says.
Doflamingo releases his throat. The world spins as Law hits the floor, and he gasps for breath, throat burning. A shadow falls over him, blocking out the light, and there's a violent hand on his jaw lifting his face up. The fog gives way to Doflamingo crouched over him.
"Corazon," Doflamingo says. "Think of all the years I've given you. The life I've built for you. Don't throw it all away over that wretched brat. Where is he?"
Law draws in a shuddering breath. "Go fuck yourself."
"This is your last warning, Corazon." Doflamingo squeezes Law's jaw. His nails bite into Law's skin, a bright sting. "I have been exceptionally patient with you."
Law says, "Kill me."
"Law."
"I said, kill me."
"What is this about," Doflamingo says, almost to himself. "Have you finally lost your will to live?"
There's something wet trickling down Law's temple—probably blood. His pulse flutters madly.
"You'll live," Law says. "And one day you'll die. Just another rotting corpse. No eternity for you."
Doflamingo says nothing. The light pouring in from the window catches on his shades, turning them into blank mirrors.
"The Perpetual Youth Surgery," Law says, very soft. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"
For a moment, Doflamingo is utterly still. Then a smile cuts across his face, like an angry crack splitting the surface of the earth.
"I'd underestimated you," Doflamingo says.
Law chokes out a laugh. "You know that I won't ever perform the surgery on you. Killing me is your only option. But how long will it take before you find the Op-Op fruit again, or another surgeon capable of performing the operation? And in the meantime, you'll age, helpless to stop it. You're going to die. And turn into shit in the ground."
He doesn't see the backhand coming. His head slams against the wall, and the world flares white and goes dark.
When Law comes to again, he's sprawled on his side, and Doflamingo is gone from his field of vision, but he can hear Trebol and the tinny sound of Pica's voice on the other end of a transponder line, warning Doflamingo about intruders on all fronts—the factory, the colosseum, everywhere, and there's a green-haired bastard in the palace, Roronoa Zoro, how did he get in?
Time skips ahead in bits and pieces; Doflamingo striding over, grabbing Law by the front of his shirt, and Law smirking up at him because no matter what happens next, Doflamingo has already lost, he's already dead just as Law will be, a vengeance in its own right. Law might not be here to see it but it doesn't matter, as long as he goes with Cora and Lami and his father and mother, the million dead of Flevance, finally, and the world spins out again.
***
Law opens his eyes an undetermined amount of time later. He's still alive, and in his room. It's bright outside. His sea stone cuffs have been locked back onto his wrists.
The floor is rumbling, like the makings of an earthquake, and there's the sound of crumbling stone, coming from somewhere beyond the walls of his room. He wonders if he's imagining it, this distant rumble, but it's getting louder. And closer. He sits up to better listen, and then there's a fist punching through the window, shattering glass all over the floor and desk, and Law can only stare in disbelief as a shadow falls over him and Monkey D. Luffy heaves himself through the window, the sun blazing a halo behind him.
"Torao." Luffy says. "I found you."
"What," Law says, mind slow and sluggish.
Luffy doesn't respond immediately. He isn't smiling; his mouth is pressed into a thin line. He jumps down from the windowsill and takes in the room silently. Law wonders what he sees: the shelves of books and trinkets, the empty birdcage, the blood on the floor. Then Luffy finally looks at Law, face hard.
"Mingo hurt you," Luffy says.
"What are you—Doffy isn't here," Law says, throat dry.
Luffy is still looking at Law, unblinking. "I came for you, obviously. I'll fight Mingo later."
"Leave me alone," Law says.
"Don't be dumb. I'm not leaving you behind," Luffy says, frowning like Law's the one being ridiculous here.
Law has never been more confused in his life. He feels drunk, watching through a haze as Luffy walks over to Law and hauls him up with an arm around his waist. Law shoves at him, but it's like trying to move a brick wall, and he's so fucking tired.
"I don't need your help," Law says. "Why come for me at all? What do you even get out of this?"
"Viola said that Mingo might kill you for helping me escape," Luffy says. "So I came to save you."
There's something uncomfortable rising in Law's chest, and it doesn't want to go away. It might be a laugh, or a scream.
"You don't get to decide what happens to me, Monkey D. Luffy," Law says, nearly choking on the words. "You don't know who I am—why do you even care? I'm not your problem." He inhales a shaky breath. "Leave me the fuck alone."
Let me die, he doesn't say.
"Shut up," Luffy says. "I'm not listening to you anymore."
And he's dragging Law into his arms and climbing back out of the window. Law stares at the sky above him, endless blue, and wonders if he's dreaming; surely this can't be real, but he feels every bump and jostle as Luffy runs through the courtyard, and then they're past the wall and free falling for a few seconds before landing with a thud onto the ground below.
Law doesn't remember closing his eyes. He opens them to see Luffy looking around wildly for an exit.
"You don't know what Doflamingo is capable of," Law says. "And you're a fool if you think that you can take him on. He will kill you."
Luffy looks down at Law. There's a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and a leaf tangled in his hair.
"I'm gonna be the pirate king," Luffy says. "That means I can't die before then. I'm gonna fight Mingo, and win."
"You can't be serious," Law says.
"I won't die," Luffy says firmly. "And that's a promise. So you can't die either."
Law doesn't believe in anything anymore, least of all in promises, but he feels it again: that middling spark of dangerous hope. He thinks about the dove he set free, the moment of hesitation before it finally took flight.
He thinks, maybe he's the dove.
If he's going to die, he might as well fly first. And fuck up Doflamingo as much as he can on the way down.
"Fine," Law says. "But find a way to take off these cuffs. I'm not letting you take on Doflamingo without me."
Luffy grins at him. "That's more like it, Torao!"
***
Hours later, after the birdcage vanishes from the sky and Luffy stands over the fallen form of Doflamingo, bloodied and exhausted but victorious, Law drags his aching body over to them. He stares at Doflamingo lying prone on the ground, defeated against all odds, and feels nothing, not even relief or satisfaction. But suddenly there's a hand slipping into his own, the warmth from that touch chasing away the cold, and he looks over at Luffy who beams back at Law and says, "Told you I'd win."
And Law smiles back. "You did."
Luffy squeezes his hand. His eyes are shining bright. "You look good when you smile," he says, and before Law can think of an answer to that, Luffy adds, "Join my crew, Torao. I want you to sail with me."
Impossible idiot, Law thinks fondly. Perhaps he will.