Seawater sapped the energy from his body. It was a sickening feeling, but Law was given no option than to cling to dear life as the seas toyed with him to nature's will, his weight supported heavily by soggy driftwood.
Some helpless kitten he was, struggling against his owner's intentions of a bathing, his claws dug deep into a moist and soggy cedar plank, on which his full weight relied.

It was a rare occurrence despite his typically calm composure that Law was shaken by a naked, pure fear--drifting for days on end gave no comforts to the possibility that he could be stranded for eternity before the little strength that remained in his exhausted muscles betrayed him. He was absolutely stuck, trapped in the very substance that defied his existence.

His eyes snapped open and his head jerked back. He had fallen asleep. That temporary loss of consciousness left him horrified. Surely, his body had no intentions of drowning him, as his fingers kept hold like a talon and its prey, but before long, both his physical and mental state would slip out of his control. His throat was parched and the inevitable ingestion of saltwater gave no help to that. It drained him more of the purity that he quite urgently needed. He'd had nothing to eat for days, and now his stomach moaned insistently for gratification, dissatisfied with the briny fluids he so constantly filled himself with. Combined with everything, for the first time in years, Law felt completely and utterly incapable.

"Hey!" And there it was again, a trickery of the mind, a fabrication of sorts that extinguished the very hope it was made to cause. But despite all, to be put in the very shoes of a madman was a fascinating experience.

"Hey! Can you hear me?" Impossible. Nonetheless, Law's heart lurched in his chest with the givings of hope. In the corner of one of his weary eyes, he caught a glimpse of a ship. Law didn't quite know if it was the sudden wave of comfort in rescue or his body finally giving out, but his body went slack and began to slide off the side of the plank, plunging into the cold, empty darkness of the sea.

As he sank, he heard a short distressing remark, muffled by the seas, in response to his disappearance. That should have been himself. Law wanted to feel a raging frustration, that he had been so close to salvation only to be denied the opportunity, but in truth, he felt at peace. His mind and body were far too drained to concern itself with the eventual, desperate aching of his lungs as they screamed for air. Law closed his eyes and prepared for peace.

"Captain, there's someone in the water!" Killer shouted. Kid leaned over the gunwales and indeed, he saw a man, exhausted now, barely conscious enough to keep his head above the water's surface. Killer expressed a look of concern. "What should we do?"

The captain could only laugh in response. It seemed today was the day where life would bring to life a pirate's role in slapstick humor; a drunk and clumsy sailor, lacking any sense to keep himself aboard his own ship. "What a dumbass."

Kid leaned his elbows on the edge of the ship, watching and showing no indication of pitching in. A look of disapproval emanated through a particular striped and perforated mask. Some mother, his first mate was, for Killer considered this Kid's "unhealthy" taste of entertainment.

Sucking in as much air as he could manage, Killer called out. "Hey!"

"Christ, Killer!" Kid spat. "He's gonna fucking see us!"

"I'd rather not watch a man die today, Kid," Killer protested. "Hey! Can you hear me?"

Killer cursed as the man in question slipped under the water and disappeared from view.

"Show's over!" Kid announced.

"Kid, this isn't a game!" Killer cried. "I'm bringing him back here."

"You're what?! Killer, you're a fucking pirate. Remember what happened to the last one you saved? That was a damn bust."

"Shut up, that bastard really was gonna die. Take me up when I get a hold of this one!"

Killer braced himself as he hit the ocean's surface. Fuck, it was cold. Ignoring the stabbing sensation of swimming in freezing water, he focused on his breathing and speed. Eventually, his body warmed to a standable degree and he approached the drowning victim, who appeared to be wearing familiar clothing. That hoodie of his was a trademark of someone...the colors, yellow and black,...where did he see that before?

Killer reached out a numb arm and roughly yanked the man to the surface. He blinked a few times clearing his vision and assessed the man he had just saved. It was a familiar face.

'This troublesome man...what is he doing out here?...' Killer thought to himself.

The two of them were hauled back onto deck, and Killer swung the still body onto the floor with a heavy thud, crouching beside the figure as he caught his breath.

"Holy shit…," Kid muttered in disbelief. He flipped the man onto his back. "This is the shitty punk we met back at Sabaody Archipelago. Trafalgar Law. Dead surgeon, or whatever."

'Surgeon of Death' Killer corrected in his mind, nodding nonetheless, and pressed an ear to Law's chest, hearing only a hollow emptiness.

"Kid! He isn't breathing!" Killer tilted Law's head to the side causing a stream of water to run steadily from his mouth.

The masked subordinate beckoned his captain over, "Tilt his head back and breathe air into his lungs.

"Dunno, he looks pretty dead to me."

"Kid!" Killer shouted with exasperation.

"Ah, for fuck's sake," Kid hissed and bent down on his knees. Killer moved aside as Kid sealed his mouth over Law's blue lips and delivered four strong breaths. His lips were clammy, yet soft, and Kid had to wonder what it'd be like to kiss the doctor in less dire situations.

Using two fingers, he tilted Law's chin up, allowing Killer to press his hands flat against the center of Law's chest and compressed in steady beats.

"Stubborn son of a bitch, this one," Kid declared after many fruitless attempts. He curled his hand into a fist and pounded the center of Law's rib cage.

"Idiot! You can't resuscitate a man like that!" Killer gave him a wicked punch to the shoulder.

"Oh, bite me."

Before Kid could manage another blow, Law jolted, twisting onto his hands and knees, and coughed violently as water spilled from his lips. The two men froze, well aware that Kid hadn't been half serious in his attempt at revival. Law's sides heaved evidently as he retched the water from his stomach and lungs onto the deck. When nothing more came up, he touched his head to the floor and collapsed onto his elbows, breathing heavily.

Killer rose to his feet awkwardly and tried to rub his back but Law bristled and slapped his hand away, recoiling like a cornered animal. His typically cool and composed gray eyes were now fierce with a new found intensity.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," Killer took a step back, raising his arms in defense.

Kid simply stared obtusely as Law attempted to stand with shaky knees, eventually failing and landing heavily on his ass. He sat there, disoriented, and Kid chuckled. 'How cute,' he thought, grateful that his mind kept to itself.

"Feed that poor kitty, Killer," he ordered with a small laugh. "I guess we got a family pet for now. Aha."

"Sea Beast meat," Killer beckoned to the plate before the doctor. Law was ravenous but he chewed slowly, his eyes locked on the first mate like a gun and target, and continued to eat silently. "You ain't much for words, are you?"

"You're the soldier."

"Sorry what?"

Law stared at him. "The Massacre Soldier, Killer."

"Oh...yeah."

The door blasted open from behind them and Law gripped the table to prevent from being forcefully dislodged as Kid crashed into the seat next to him. While the light doctor remained in his seat, his knees painfully collided with the underside of the table.

"Are you always this reckless?" Law mumbled, giving him a sideways glare.

"When I want to be," Kid winked, flashing him a smile when Law scoffed. "Killer, pour us a whiskey shot."

"Actually, I prefer my wits about me, Mr. Eustass, especially after what's happened for the past few days."

"Mr. Eustass?" Kid grinned. "Am I really that important?"

"You certainly think you are," Law quipped.

"You ass."

"Heads up," Killer shoved a glass to Kid's end and left the two alone to fare as renewed acquaintances. Kid caught it with grace.

He downed the glass and slammed it empty back down with a hiss. "Good shit."

"You should really drink something. Hell knows how long you've been out there drinking seawater... I wouldn't want you dying on this ship."

"I'll have a glass of water, thanks," Law replied courteously, rubbing his parched throat.

"You really wanna stay sober, huh?" Kid stood to pour the doctor a glass himself.

"As I should be."

Kid snickered, "Maybe." He handed the glass to Law who brought it to his lips gratefully. The cold, icy liquid seemed to placate a path down Law's throat as he swallowed in greedy gulps.

"So humor me, doc." Kid yawned. "How exactly does someone like yourself end up out there?"

"Hm, well I'll save you the tedious details," Law pursed his lips. "The simple answer would be that my services were no longer needed."

"And so they threw you out?"

"A generous way of putting it, but yes."

"Man," Kid kicked his feet on the table with a flippancy only he could pull off fashionably. "You make these people sound so big and scary. Are they really?"

"That is a matter for you to find out yourself," Law's eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and contentment. His stomach was filled, his throat quenched, and to some degree, he felt a modicum of safety. After much deprivation, he could really settle for some rest. He propped his face on an elbow and his eyes closed on their own. "Now, Mr. Eustass, please save the chatter for another time. I'm terribly tired."

As Law slowly lost consciousness, his good posture distorted like a melting candle and soon he was fast asleep, his upper body leaned over the counter with his head resting against the inside of his forearm.

Now dormant, Law's usually cautious and wary face now wore a relaxed expression. His lips were slightly parted, and his sharp, icy gray eyes were now sheltered by a pair of thick dark lashes. His face held a certain attractiveness that Kid hadn't the time to notice before. He wanted to know more about Law, more of what was beyond that tough, yet cool exterior of his.

With the intention of moving Law to a more suitable place for his rest, Kid slung the doctor over one shoulder and moved him to one of the extra beds below deck. As he wiped the icy moisture from his hands onto his fur coat, he recognized his error. He'll freeze, Kid came to realize.

"Law," Kid whispered, shaking the unconscious doctor violently about by the shoulders. "Law!"

Despite the passioned attempt, Law remained in his slumber. It was like he was in hibernation, absolutely drained by exhaustion and only to wake when he has made a sizable recovery. And if Law wasn't going to take off his soaked attire, then Kid would do it for him with pleasure.

"Okay, come on, sweetie, let's get you out of those wet clothes," Kid smirked, peeling the damp hoodie from Law's skin and lifting it over his head with care. To no surprise, Law's exposed body was a fucking sight. His frame spoke an impressive level of fitness; the muscles of his abdomen were taut and defined, and were complemented by the slight slenderness to his waist and broader chest and shoulders. But what caught Kid's eye the most were the tattoos inked boldly on the expanse of his chest, back, and shoulders, which signified a particular audacity that fit well with Law's image.

Kid's fingers traced the designed absentmindedly, before he became flustered and aware of his actions. He tossed Law's clothes to the floor sounding a wet splat on impact. He prayed for justification as he undid the button of Law's jeans, sliding them off of his hips. If his crewmates caught him in the act of something as questionable as this, they would think lowly of him. At last, for better or for worse, Kid found himself with a respectable and naked man spread out on a bed for his crew members to question with full concern. Hell. What did he get himself into?