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Many know the Surgeon of Death, fear him even.
They call him heartless. They do not know how right they are.
In Law’s chest there is a heart that does not beat. No blood circulates, no life force or soul twisting tightly in its veins. There it rests settled in his ribcage, a symbol of love, of failure, of revenge. It’s a reminder of an angry child being greeted with a bright smile, warm hugs, the smell of smoke and snow. And blood.
So much blood.
It is the heart of a man determined to save a sick child at all costs, of 6 grueling months of going from hospital to hospital looking for a miracle cure. The man showing care and compassion to a child who had only known pain for the last few years of his life. The man who betrayed his brother to save someone who would’ve died hating the world. Who lives still hating the world for taking that person away.
That is the heart that resides in his chest. It sits next to his own beating heart, a reflection of the people they’re from.
When people call the Surgeon of Death heartless, they are not wrong. They are not right either. He does have an organ pumping blood through is veins. But his heart is dead. His heart is gone. And no amount of revenge will fix that.
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13 years, 4 months, and 28 days. That is how long Law has been heartless. That is how long this unbeating heart has sat still in his chest next to his own. He will never forget that night. He will never forget the sacrifice that was made to save his life. He doesn’t think it was worth it. He doesn’t think he ever will. But he’s here and he’s alive and Cora is not, so he must live on.
He didn’t originally plan on keeping the heart in his body, only having placed it in his chest for safekeeping until he found a place to stay. But by the time he had felt safe enough to think about it, he couldn’t bear to remove that heart from his chest. Cora’s heart. The last piece of him he had. And so it sat dormant from that fateful day, nestled in his ribcage and being a morbidly comforting weight in his chest.
Law checked on the heart fairly regularly, making sure it was preserved, keeping blood still in its veins without leaking into his own body and keeping it from necrosis. He did it out of respect for the man who saved him just as much as he did it to keep his own body safe. It was a process he repeated every week unless disturbed or lacking access to his equipment.
He would remove the heart, force blood to rotate through, and replace any dying cells, feeding in required nutrients to keep the heart in shape. Then he would place the heart back in his chest, and just sit with his hand over that spot for a moment before moving on with his day. It was comforting, despite the morbidity. It was a piece of the man who cared about him enough to give his life, and he would never let it rot.
However, one can only have a ritual for so long until something stops it in its tracks. Law had once again lost everything. The Polar Tang was gone and his crew MIA. He was lucky Bepo had managed to save him and take them to a new island, hidden from view. The fight against Blackbeard had left him battered and bruised, and it hadn’t helped that he had been feeling off since the raid on Onigashima. He wasn’t even sure why, but he’s sure he sustained quite a few injuries that he hadn’t had time to fix up.
Belatedly, he also realized he hadn’t yet checked on Cora’s heart. It hadn’t felt like it’d been a week yet and yet it had also felt like years, and lack of equipment be damned he refused to let his heart rot. And so he set to pull the heart out of his chest. What he was not prepared for was the pulse he felt upon placing his hand on his chest. He could’ve sworn he had placed his own heart in the correct spot, so why does he feel beating on the right side of his chest?
No, it’s nothing. It can’t be anything. He’s hallucinating.
He attempts once more to take the heart out of his chest. And this time he succeeds. And almost drops the heart. There in his palm, is what he thought was Corazon’s heart, pulsing with blood in its veins.
This can’t be.
Cora-san is dead. Has been dead. Will stay dead.
Law repeats this over and over even as he reaches to pull out the second heart. His own heart. His own heart that is also beating and pulsing in a familiar rhythm. He stares at the hearts in his hands disbelieving until he hears Bepo call his name in the distance.
He places his heart back in his chest, and stares one last time at the his savior’s before settling it back in as well. He stands up, sets his jaw, and turns to respond. He doesn’t know what sick joke this is, but he will find out.
And if it’s real?
He’s not sure what will happen.
He’s not willing to believe it’s real yet. Not until his Heart is in front of him once again.