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Law had made many bad decisions in his life, from joining Doflamingo to eating a single piece of moldy bread and swearing off of it for life he’d been stupid plenty of times. So really, at this point, he should know better than to think that things would go well for him.
That being said, he had been tired. He hadn’t slept in days if not weeks at this point and he was just about ready to find the nearest blunt object to knock himself unconscious. Unfortunately, he couldn’t really risk brain damage right now, so, instead, he’d decided on trying to actually lay down and close his eyes. They’d docked the day before on a perfectly safe island, everyone knew what they were doing, there was nothing for him to do.
He just wanted a nap. Just a few hours. Thinking that such a thing could possibly happen was just another bad idea to lump onto his list of stupidity.
He woke up to a hammering heart and a damning pressure behind his eyes. His whole body was shaking, an unnatural, unreasonable cold seeping into his bones. The cold of a snowy island in the north covered in blood. A cold that should not exist here in the New World in his submarine under the calm wave.
Law pressed his palms into his eyes until sparks danced across the darkness of his vision and the imminent threat of tears was mostly gone. He counted in his head, slowly, the in and out of his breaths until he no longer felt like he was going to pass out from hyperventilation.
It was so cold.
A glance to the clock mocked him with the hour. He had barely even slept an hour. He was so fucking tired and now it was cold and the room was so fucking empty and small and the walls were fucking— he needed to get out.
Before he could get back control of his rational thoughts, Law was opening a room, encompassing the ship, and swapping himself with a random object he didn’t even bother to name. He just needed to get to their room, if he was there he’d be safe, if he was there then Shachi and Penguin would find him and the cold would go away.
“AH! WHA’ TA FUCK!?” That was… not what Law was expecting to hear.
Slowly, Law took in the room, the little stuffed bear they’d gotten years ago because it reminded Shachi of Bepo, the extra hats hanging in the closet, the desk with its constant mess of papers and two people sitting on the floor with a mess of cards between them. Two people that should not have been there.
“What are you doing on my ship…?” He didn’t even bother to hide how tired he was, even if he did try, he was 100% sure it wouldn’t work, so what was the point?
“Waitin’ for yer first mates obviously! The hell are ye doin’ poppin’ outta nowhere!?” Eustass Kidd huffed, glaring at him from where he was sitting cross legged on the floor of the submarine, his one hand clutching a hand of playing cards that Law distantly registered was absolute shit. His metal arm was resting nearby, detached from his body, accompanied by his shoes and fur coat. It looked fluffy. Killer was sitting before him, holding his own set of cards with one hand while the other hovered between them awkwardly, halfway through reaching for the deck in the middle. His mask was off. Law did not give enough of a fuck to even think about it.
“It’s my ship,” he reiterated, because honestly! The fucking audacity of asking him what he was doing on his own fucking ship! He was the captain, he could do whatever the hell he wanted! And okay, maybe this was technically Shachi and Penguin’s personal space and he probably should have gone through the actual door even if they were there.
To be fair, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d popped into Shachi and Penguin’s room unannounced, and they’d never really seemed to care. But now… now they had Kidd and Killer. They actually had others coming into their room, they had their life and their partners and even if Law didn’t quite get along with Kidd, he could see that he cared for his friends. It was nice, it was good, he was happy for them. And here he was barging into their room as if it was his own, without a care for their lives, for their partners, for them.
“Trafalgar?” Killer’s voice sounded a bit different without the mask, a bit smoother maybe? Oh… he’d zoned out. It was still so cold.
“I…” he paused, his tired mind losing any sort of words that could even begin to make up an excuse for his behavior. What could he even say? What would make any of this not seem absolutely pathetic? He didn’t fucking know.
Law stood there, cold and exhausted and felt the shaking return, his hands trembling against his side even after he clenched them into fists. He should just leave, just turn and go back to his room and hope it all went away.
“Join us, we’re startin’ a new round,” Killer’s voice cut through his thoughts, and just about any level of understanding he had on the man.
“Huh?” Law blinked down at the two pirates, sprawled out casually on the ground as if nothing was happening. Kidd looked just as surprised, his golden eyes wide and face very, very close to a scowl as he gawked as his partner. Killer didn’t seem phased, simply beginning to gather up the cards as if preparing to deal them, he even scooted ever so slightly to the side to leave room for Law to sit.
“Ye know what? Sure! Come ‘ere Trafalgar, I’ll beat yer ass,” Kidd huffed, smacking his previously terrible hand down for Killer to pick up and add to the deck.
“I… your hand was terrible,” was what Law’s sleep deprived mind managed to come up with.
“Wh—!? That was then, it don’t mean I won’t beat yer ass now!” Kidd scowled, glaring up at him. At least this was rather familiar.
Law looked down at the spot on the floor offered to him, and then over at the door behind him. And… well… he was cold. He was cold and tired and he could see bloody footprints in the corner of his eye and a too wide smile every time he blinked and walking out to be alone sounded like fucking hell.
He sat down.
Twenty minutes later, Kidd was cursing every ancestor Law had in two different languages after having lost yet again and Law’s hands were shaking just a bit less. Killer hadn’t put his mask back on, but his bangs covered his face, hiding any discernable features from view. Somehow, Law could still tell that the man was looking at him.
“Hah! Three kings!” Kidd smirked, smacking down the three cards triumphantly. Law stared down at the honestly pretty pathetic hand, the painted cards staring up at him. The king of diamonds, staring out to the side. Diamante. The king of spades, with his silly little mustache. Pica. And the king of hearts, with its sword stabbed right through its skull. Corazon.
Law shuddered, staring down at the card, at the hearts, red like blood. His hearts hadn’t actually been red, he’d preferred pink, Law liked the color pink. Not the bright pale pink of a certain feathery coat, no, he liked the dark almost wine colored sort of pink of a familiar hat, the warm pink of little patterned hearts. Not red, not that pale pink. Law didn’t like those. He didn’t like red hearts.
He glanced down at his own hand, a flush, the queen of spades, the jack of diamonds, the ten of diamonds, the nine of clubs… and the eight of hearts. Bright red hearts.
“Traflagar? It’s yer turn,” Killer’s voice sounded distant, far away. “Yer shakin…” he added after a moment, and he was, he was shaking so hard he was scared the cards were going to tumble out of his hands.
“It’s cold,” he blurted out. It wasn’t cold, he knew that. He felt like he was freezing.
There was a moment of silence, painfully awkward in the objectively warm little room underneath the waves with the hum of the submarine's engine. Law stared down at his cards, at the eight of hearts, and tried to blink away the smile in the corner of his vision.
“Yer such a skinny fuck, course yer cold,” Kidd huffed, breaking through the silence with his gruff voice. “Wearin’ jack shite too,” he grumbled, which, to be fair, he wasn’t exactly wrong. Law was just wearing a shirt and some loose sleep shorts, not exactly warm clothes. Something rustled, fabric dragging across the floor, and then Law found himself choking on a big fluffy faceful of red coat.
Law sputtered, yanking the fur off of his face, ready to glare at its owner with a vengeance. The moment his hands dug into the fluff though, his brain screeched to a stop. It was soft. It was very soft. It smelled of oil, smoke and a hint of iron that could only be blood. And yet somehow, it was so, so soft.
Anger was forgotten, his shaking fingers brushing over the fur. Slowly, ever so slowly he brought the too big coat around and draped it over his shoulders. It rested heavily across him, tickling at his chin and sides. It was warm. It was blood red, just like the hearts he hated. But now, laying over him as it was, Law could have sworn it was black as crows feathers.
“Thanks…” Law whispered after a moment, and then he picked up his cards, and Kidd went back to cursing out his great, great grandparents for winning yet another game.
“We’re baaack!” A familiar voice cut through another round of colorful cursing, the door slamming open hard enough to make Law wince, revealing a grinning Shachi and a smiling Penguin holding a bag of something in one hand.
“Miss us? We brought so— oh,” Law saw the moment Penguin registered his presence, his eyes widening under the brim of his hat. He resisted the urge to shrink under his gaze, his hands tightening their grip on the cards in his hands until they wrinkled in his hold. Shachi noticed him soon after, his grin vanishing immediately.
The room plunged into silence while Law strangled his full house between shaking fingers, frozen in place. Shachi took a moment to look him over with that worried little downturn of his lips before his smile returned, soft and kind and familiar. He pulled his glasses off and set his hat aside in one smooth motion, tossing them to the floor carelessly to make his way over to the three of them on the floor.
“Hey cap, you winning there?” Shachi hummed, settling himself down beside him, pressing their thighs together. Law could only nod, offering out the now crinkled cards out to Shachi.
“Wow! Pretty good hand,” Penguin praised, looking over Law's shoulder. His hat was gone now too, revealing mussed up teal hair and dark eyes.
“Ye know yer not supposed ta say if yer hand is good in poker, right?” Kidd said, raising an eyebrow at Penguin. The man only laughed, setting himself down on Law’s other side, bracketing him between him and Shachi. They were warm.
“He was going to win anyway, he’s got some insane luck with cards,” Shachi chuckled, reaching out to Law and carefully taking the cards out of his still shaking hands. He took one of Law’s now empty hands in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. Penguin took hold of his other hand, guiding it towards himself until Law’s fingers curled around the familiar fabric of his boiler suit.
Shachi set the cards down, and Law ignored the groan of defeat from Kidd at the sight, too focused on the way that his friend brushed a hand over his knuckles. Shachi carefully brought his hand to join the other in their desperate cling on Penguin’s clothes, letting him clench his hands in the fabric until it almost tore. The movement effectively brought him around to face Penguin, allowing the man to finally wrap his arms around him, making their way under the coat to fully press against his back, and finally, finally bring him into a proper hug.
It was warm, they were warm, they were warm and soothing and familiar and everything he needed. Law curled up almost by instinct, bringing all of his too long limbs up to tuck himself into Penguin’s hold. A hand rested in his hair, gently brushing back the messy strands. Shachi’s body pressed against him from behind, squishing the fur coat into his back, a comforting pressure squeezing him between the two. Law took in a breath and it felt like the first one he’d taken in years.
“There you go, you’re okay mein lieber,” Penguin murmured, quiet enough so that only Law could hear it. The way it made his eyes water was more than a bit embarrassing.
“Just relax, we’ve got you,” a kiss was pressed to the top of his head from behind, Shachi’s warm hand finding its way to his leg, running up and down his thigh soothingly, hidden by the too big fur coat. It was so warm, so wonderfully warm.
“Had a bad dream?” Penguin asked, carefully shifting Law to let him nuzzle his face right into the crook of his neck, brushing against his gills and the steady thudding of his heartbeat. Law could only nod, his vision —blocked by warm, warm skin— blurring into nothing as tears finally fell.
Penguin hummed a sympathetic little sound, leaning his head against Law’s before turning to press a kiss to the bit of forehead he could reach. His lips were almost burning hot against him and Law had to bite his lip against the embarrassing little keen that threatened to leave him. It was bad enough that he was crying already, especially in front of Kidd and Killer, he didn’t have to add any pathetic noises to his already pathetic display.
“I bet you’re tired, huh?” Shachi scratched gently at his scalp as he spoke, raking his blunt nails through his hair. Law could feel himself begin to give in, his tense body falling slack, his shaking coming to a stop, just a puddle of silent tears and exhaustion held up only by Penguin’s arms holding him close and Shachi’s hands brushing over his skin.
“It’s okay now, entspann dich, mein schatz,” Penguin whispered, the sound of his native tongue making Law melt, eyes finally fluttering closed. This time the smile behind his eyelids was gone, the bright white snow and its patterns of red disappearing, leaving only the blessed darkness of true rest.
“Schlaf schön Law,” said in Shachi’s familiar accented Flevish was the last thing Law heard before he finally gave into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
. . .
“And he’s out,” Penguin chuckled lightly after a moment of listening to Law’s even breathing. He could still feel the dampness of tears against his gills, his captain dead weight in his arms and still worryingly light. It was honestly just a matter of time until this happened, he and Shachi had been waiting for it for days at this point. He never expected it to come when Kidd and Killer were there though, but well… his captain had always had terrible timing.
“Finally,” Shachi sighed, relief clear in his tone, his pitch black eyes narrowed in concern.
“Ye want help gettin’ ‘im ta bed?” Killer asked, his unmasked face tilting to the side with his question. Penguin had noticed that he did that a lot, which was useful when he had the mask to express his intentions but just looked kinda cute when he did it without it. Like a puppy almost.
“Nah, it’s alright, he’s light as a feather,” they had tried for years to put some weight on Law’s bones, but his appetite was shot to shit and even when he did eat it all seemed to pass right through him. Despite being healed, Amber Lead had truly taken a toll on Law’s body and it never stopped worrying Shachi and him, not to mention poor Bepo who’d borderline burst into tears whenever Law’s symptoms got too bad.
True to his word, Penguin had no trouble lifting Law up bridal style once Shachi moved away, coat and all, smiling fondly when his captain curled into him, still clinging onto his boiler suit with an iron grip. Honestly, the man was adorable sometimes. Not that he’d ever say it to his face, not as long as he was fond of keeping his organs inside of his body.
Penguin wasted no time walking the few steps to the bed, kicking off his boots while Shachi pulled the blankets down. He moved slowly once he sat down at the edge of the bed, shifting back bit by bit until he could lay down, bringing Law down to rest on top of him. The man huffed a grumpy little sound against his neck, tightening his hold on his boiler suit. His long legs curled up, digging a knee into him for a bit until Penguin took ahold of one and brought it up to drape across him. Law settled quickly after that, sinking into the hold with only a bit more shifting, thankfully not waking up once.
“Thanks for looking after him,” Shachi said, looking over at Kidd and Killer with a smile as he sat himself on the edge of the bed next to them to begin gently carding his fingers through Law’s messy hair. Penguin was extremely grateful the bed was placed not far from where the other two were sitting when he managed to catch a glimpse of the way Kidd’s face burned red.
“Kil wanted a third fer tha game, that’s all!” Kidd grumbled, keeping his voice quiet. Gods, Penguin was just surrounded by adorable people, wasn’t he? Kidd was just so damn cute when he was being all emotionally constipated!
“Sure, and the game definitely required you to give him your coat too, right?” Shachi teased, his smirk widening when it made Killer let out a rare laugh.
“Wh—!? He said—!” Kidd caught himself halfway towards a shout, clearly taking quite a bit of effort to lower his voice to continue. “He said he was cold!” He hissed in what was apparently his best attempt at an angry whisper. Penguin muffled his laugh into Law’s hair.
“What a gentleman!” Penguin snickered, lifting his head up to blow a kiss towards Kidd at an awkward angle. The man promptly flipped him off.
“Yer all fucken’ arseholes,” the poor man huffed, turning to begin picking up the scattered cards, muttering angrily under his breath the entire time much to the entire room's amusement.
“I’m serious though, thank you,” Shachi said after the giggles died down. “He hasn’t slept in over a week, we’ve been worried sick,” he sighed. Penguin had to resist the urge to squeeze Law further against him protectively and risk waking him up.
“A week…?” Killer sounded stunned, which was honestly a reasonable reaction, that amount of sleep deprivation would kill a normal person. Thankfully, their captain wasn’t normal. Penguin wasn’t even sure what exactly he did, but he could survive off of little to no sleep for a scarily long amount of time. Just because he could survive though, didn’t mean it wasn’t absolute shit for his health.
“It’s not usually this bad,” he sighed, beginning to rub circles into Law’s back absentmindedly, brushing his fingers over that too prominent spine. The closer they got to Doflamingo, the more Law stressed and the less he slept and ate. Not even the normal methods were working lately, not even Bepo’s fluff was helping.
Penguin knew that their captain was driving himself into the ground, and worst of all, he knew that the man didn’t care. He had known going into this, that revenge was the goal, and he had known that Law would give his life for it. But the closer they got and the more they did the more Penguin was coming to realize that it wasn’t that Law was willing to give his life: he was expecting to. It was terrifying. And the worst part was that there was truly nothing he, or Shachi or even Bepo could do about it.
He didn’t realize that there were tears in his eyes until Shachi was wiping a stray one away, looking down at him with a worried frown. Penguin could only shake his head and force in a breath that was a bit shakier than he would have liked. It wasn’t the time to talk about it, not with Kidd and Killer there, not with Law sleeping so soundly, breaths puffing steadily against his gills.
“Sorry for kinda ruining date night,” Shachi spoke up after a moment of silence, pulling away from Law and Penguin to look at their guests with a strained smile.
“Ye didn’ ruin shite, we can still play cards, aye?” Kidd huffed, waving the deck of cards in his hand with what could only be described as a pout. “Trafalgar can sleep threw some games, can’t ‘e?” He continued with a stubborn little look towards them.
“If ye want us to leave, we will, but the night ain’t ruined just cus we can’t have sex,” Killer said, much more to the point, taking the cards out of Kidd’s waving hand while he was at it to begin shuffling them properly. “We can sit and talk and play games. I brought some snacks, nothin’s ruined,” his voice was warm, kind in ways that he only was behind closed doors, a rare smile on his lips.
Penguin was sure that he’d sucked up the teariness from the thoughts of his stupid self-sacrificing captain, and yet here he was, with tears once again threatening to fall. Next to him, Shachi sniffled, his lip wobbling as dark eyes swam with tears, much less restrained than Penguin’s.
“Wh— don’t cry!” Kidd hissed, looking somewhere between pissed and panicked. Penguin couldn’t help but giggle through his tears, eyes crinkling happily.
“Sorry, sorry, just…” Penguin took in a shaky breath, leaning down to wipe his tears off into Law’s greasy head. He made a mental note to make sure the man took a bath once he was up. “Just happy… just happy, that’s all,” he finished, swallowing down the rest of his tears to properly smile over at them from the bed.
Killer huffed out a little laugh and stood up, making his way over to them until he stood before the bed. The large man leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Shachi’s lips and then over the bed and Law to do the same to Penguin. He was warm… warm and soft and sweet and when he pulled away Penguin could spot his beautiful blue eyes squinting at the edges happily.
“I brought some cookies, we’ll eat, and play, a’ight?” Killer said it like it was fact, the easiest thing in the world, even stepping back to settle down on the floor by Shachi’s legs.
“Yeah… yeah okay,” Shachi nodded, his hand briefly leaving Penguin’s cheek, likely to rub away his tears. It was instead caught by scarred fingers and promptly put aside as Kidd leaned into their space.
Apparently, Kidd had seen Killer kissing them, and was refusing to be left out. Penguin had to resist the urge to laugh at the borderline scowl on the man's face, completely at odds with the way he gently kissed Shachi’s cheeks, licking away his tears. Soon Shachi was giggling, halfheartedly pushing Kidd away with their intertwined hands.
“Stop it you weirdo! That tickles!” He laughed, only giggling harder when Kidd nipped at his cheek in retaliation. Penguin huffed out a laugh of his own at the sight, he was pretty sure that if Law was aware of this, he’d be screaming.
“What? I don’t get a kiss?” Penguin pouted, deciding to save Shachi from his slobbery prison.
“Yer gonna get yer kiss, wait yer turn!” Kidd huffed, giving Shachi’s cheek one last nip before finally pulling away and leaning over to press a kiss against Penguin. His lips were chapped, much drier than Killer’s and yet somehow plumper as well. He sighed happily into the feeling, sinking further into the bed with a smile when they pulled apart.
“Thank you,” he said, the smile firmly plastered on his face. He laughed at the way Kidd and Killer both went red at his words. He really was just surrounded by adorable people.
That night he lost horrifically at poker and almost choked on three separate cookies and a piece of bread trying to eat laying down, and he never stopped smiling. Just that night, he held Law close and enjoyed the warmth of his body and didn’t think about the future. He didn’t think about the dangers or the sadness or the fear. He just smiled. Smiled and giggled and pressed a gentle kiss to his captain's forehead when he finally woke up and joined the game as if nothing happened.