Um, first, can I just say, holy fucking shit dudes. Cause don't think for a second I didn't see and read and squeal over every single damn one of these twenty-nine reviews! Most of them are borderline monster reviews and I keeled over after reading each of them.

I will respond to all anon reviews right here, as I don't want to be stabbed for letting readers think the chapter is a lot longer than it is. XD As for non-anons, I hope those of you who had any questions or really long comments don't mind me shooting you a PM in the near future to reply to your reviews? ( o_o;) There's just so much! ono

blackwolfy (1/23/2015 c1)

Awesome first chapter! I can't wait for the rest, and see what Kidd's response to Law's...introduction is going to be. ;) Luv your work!
Thank you! :D hope you enjoyed the chapter! owo

Guest (11/16/2014 c1)

This is one of those stories that I can't help but check everyday for any hint of a possible update. It's been three months since this glorious plot bunny you churned out. No pressure but I was hoping to see what you cooked up. I cannot see any way for this fic to not be an enjoyable and exciting read.

I adore your style of writing. You just notice things that other writers don't and incorporate them so casually, it's amazing and a wonder to read. I understand if you are being otherwise occupied but just please reassure me that you haven't given up on this fic. The idea couldn't have dried up because of the recent chapters about Doffy, Corazon, and little Law could it have -sobs-
FEAR NOT! THE TRAGEDY HAS NOT CAUSED ME TO LOSE HEART! Life is just complicated and I juggle too much at once some times. v_v Thank you so so very much for your praise -blushus- I really hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! And never fear, I always intend to complete all of my stories, no matter how long it may take. :'D

tsume (10/13/2014 c1)

ooooh, what happens next what happens next?! please continue this as best you can it's really interesting. is there a backstory such as, mysterious disappearances reported in the news recently, or something else of that nature?
Hehehe, nope! Law's too smart to be caught. ;) He has his ways.

Michiru (9/22/2014 c1)

Oh dear, you've got my complete attention and as such this must be continued, the sooner the better please!
To think I almost didn't read it -shivers-
So very sorry for the late update! -bows deeply- I usually place updating my primary story, Waiting Game, as the top priority, but I will try to focus on this one more as well!

vetii (8/27/2014 c1)

Ahhh I saw this on tumblr and I'm so happy I checked it out! This is amazing! I can't wait for the next chapter
Thank you so much for dropping in! I hope you enjoyed this long awaited update!

loogoo (Aug 24, 2014 c1)

Heavy-duty chains and biometric cuffs? Now that's surely a new kink
-cackles- Well hopefully it will become a new trend XD Law certainly took his time to design the perfect 'accessories' for his guest. ;)

Racelett (Aug 22, 2014 c1)

Hot Shit :3
Haha but the thing with the serial killer came unexpected xD really makes me curious now... So keep writing!

your minion 3
Hehehehe Yes, it was my intention to lure everyone in with false expectations. -cue evil laughter- I do hope expectations now run higher. ;D

SMOOCHES FOR EVERYONE -bonus slight groping for minions who follow my other stories as well- ;D Your overlord loves thee~

Now enough from me! I present to you the new chapter which is, of course, beta'd by the exceptional Mai Kusakabe, and I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Posted: 2/5/2015

Kid tried to lean in further to reach the spark plugs of the car he was helping with. However, his arms were too short and he started to slip, almost falling onto the hot engine when two large hands appeared on his waist, lifting him up and away from the carburetor.

"Careful, Kid." Hands, much larger than his own, pulled out the old spark plugs and tossed them into a bucket to be replaced with new ones.

"Sorry, Dad. I wanted to get some of it done before you got here." His red locks were ruffled by still clean hands, soon to be covered in motor oil and dirt.

The red haired child looked up at the muscular man with a bright smile. "How was work? Did you catch any bad guys?"

The man, the boy's father, shrugged out of his suit jacket. "Mostly got stuck with paperwork today, took off early too." The dress shirt was replaced by a t-shirt that had been laying next to a work apron that he tied around his waist.

"So let's get started. You got some dusting done, that's good. Now, what can you tell about the engine, what do you think needs done?"

The boy grinned, pushing his goggles up, and laid down his wrench, happy to be the center of attention and show off his knowledge. "The intake valve is clogged, but I didn't want to touch it without you cause you haven't shown me how to do it yet. I think the crankshaft might be cracked too and I was just trying to replace the spark plugs. We might have to order some new shocks."

The man nodded, having already checked these things but wanting the boy to learn on his own.

"Good job. I'll also need to rebuild the transmission, don't worry about that." He said at the child's crumbling expression. "I haven't taught you enough about them for you to recognize any problems. You did good."

A while later had them both up to their elbows in grease and oil, the boy handing the man tools when he needed them. "Kid... I talked with your mother last night."

"Yeah?" Carmine colored eyes fixed on his father, a slight frown marring his features as he could tell from the man's tone something was off. "Is something wrong?"

"Mmm..." With a click, a part was pushed into place and the father leaned up, wiping his hands on a dirty rag as he walked over to a pair of chairs next to a mini fridge. The boy hurried after him, taking three steps for every one of the grown man's.

"The other day, while you were at school, your mother was cleaning you room. Picked up your clothes, the usual. Some of it was flung under your bed so she decided to dust beneath it."

The small redhead stopped walking, feeling cold sweat begin to drip down his back. "I think you know what she found..."

"I-I-Dad, I-" The anxious boy was interrupted by a can of his favorite soda being held in front of him. Once he took it, the man patted the seat next to himself.

"It's okay. It may seem strange, but I understand what you're going through. It's not your fault." The pale child sat down next to his father, sitting as close as he could, still feeling upset.

"It's not... weird? I didn't mean to do anything bad. I just... And they were already dead... I didn't mean-" An arm was wrapped around him and held him tight.

"It's okay, Kid. We're going to get through this. You're not alone, it's important you remember that. You are not alone."

A shocked silence fell over the room as Kid's mind tried to process what the obviously deranged man had just said.

All the while, said man merely sat there, pretty as a picture and just as calm, while he seemingly waited for the redhead to come out of his surprised silence.

"...What."

The clearly unhinged man just continued smiling. "I am a serial killer. Though I would prefer a more... 'elegant' term, I am aware of how my actions would be seen by the general masses."

"...Sure you would." Kid said cautiously, very much doubting the man's validity.

The self professed murderer tilted his head. "You do not believe me and most likely see me as a madman of sorts. I suppose I cannot blame you, it is a bit much to take in. I shall just have to provide proof then, though it may be a bit difficult as my... discrepancies against the law are not publicly known."

Kid just glared at the man, but the other didn't seem to register his displeasure with the situation at all.

"So, I suppose I'll just have to fetch some to show you." The obviously insane doctor stood, turned, and began to walk away without another word.

"Some of what? Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?! Get back here you asshole and let me go! I'll put my fucking foot in your ass if you leave me like this! You son of a bitch!" Kid roared and yanked at the chains despite already knowing it was useless, feeling every bit like a caged animal.

Ignoring him, the creepy man had gone through a door the redhead hadn't noticed before and Kid watched as it closed behind the mad surgeon.

Eventually, Kid choked down his anger and tried to think clearly, to look around for something, anything, that could get him out of this. He inspected the chains again, not expecting to find anything different but there was nothing else close enough for him to grab. The cuffs were well padded, as despite all of his thrashing, his wrists felt not even slightly uncomfortable, and a little probing revealed the padding to be silk of all materials.

He critically eyed the chains, that had to be custom made and definitely worth a very pretty penny, that were attached to the automatic pulley system.

The red haired artist also took note of his bare feet, his boots and socks gone, as was his coat... And his shirt had been changed. For another of his own that he knew for a fact he had left at his apartment.

'Fucking creep.' He huffed, trying to shake off the knowledge that he had been touched while unconscious, and turned his attention to what he was laying on. At first, Kid had thought it was a hospital bed or something, but it was far too comfortable.

The redhead pressed a hand against the bedding and watched it sink in. Apparently it was one of those beds they showed on TV all the time, the ones you could control and crap with a remote.

At least his ass was comfortable while he was forced to sit here and wait to see what this nutjob wanted to show him. He really didn't want to know, but didn't think he had much of a choice as the door opened again.

Kid glowered as the surgeon approached him, holding something that was very familiar to him.

"That's mine." He scowled at the art piece in the hands of the other man. The artist had made it a few months ago, warping black steel and silver twine into a lantern-like shape he had modeled after an old ship's lamp he'd seen at the docks. Kid had even made the glass container in it himself.

It had been a requested piece by his 'anonymous' patron.

'Least now I know he's telling the truth about that much...' He thought dryly.

"Yes, I have commissioned a number of similar functional pieces from you, all air tight and usable, but with your own flair." Trafalgar sat down in the chair again, balancing the lantern on one knee. "I have always wanted to show you how valued your hard work is, how useful it has been. Now, I admit, I am rather flustered. I do hope you can come to appreciate its purpose."

The artist was getting an odd feeling of foreboding while the man spoke, his stomach clenching with tension as he watched tattooed fingers slide a latch open and move a piece to reveal the handcrafted glass bowl inside. Another movement and the light beneath it was turned on to illuminate the contents.

When the redhead had first created this piece, he had imagined that the one paying him would use it as something to showcase some jewelry or some other expensive object.

Kid had never imagined that it would be used to preserve a human heart.

"I have... an affinity for hearts, you could say, for multiple reasons. But we'll go into that later, when we're closer and your mind is more... open." The restrained artist was still staring at the organ held inside his own creation and a thought, a sudden fleeting feeling in the farthest reaches of his mind, of almost... fascination... pressed at him, but was just as quickly extinguished.

And it started to really dawn on Kid just what kind of situation he was in.

"...So, are you going to kill me?" As he spoke, the red haired man faintly registered how he sounded; detached and decidedly uncaring, as if it really didn't matter if he lived or died.

And maybe it didn't.

Trafalgar, however, appeared shocked by the question. "Kill you? Of course not! Why would I do that? No, no, Eustass-ya, you're not here for me to kill you." A soft but chilling smile crossed the man's features. "I'm here to help you."

Kid growled. "So you've said. But you're a murderer and obviously fucking cracked, what the hell could you possibly 'help' me with? Why would you even want to?!"

The other man just smiled and sat aside the lantern delicately, resting it by his feet, before leaning forward. "Your art has been struggling lately. I could tell. Every new piece has less... you in it. They're just ideas, though well executed, that you put together. They lack feeling. You have been frustrated and it shows in your work."

The redhead tensed, scowling. "What the fuck do you know? I'm just having a bad week... Sorry if my junk isn't good enough for you, Mr. Murderer!"

"Junk. An interesting word choice." Trafalgar said vaguely.

Kid kept frowning, but with an edge of confusion. "The hell are you on about? You were just sayin-"

"I never once said it was sub par." The artist's mouth clicked shut as the dark haired man spoke mildly. "I said it was not you. The pieces themselves are very nice. It is not I that views it as... 'junk'."

The sinister doctor seemed much closer than before and his voice was soft. "It is you. You have been struggling, strained by something you refuse to acknowledge..."

Kid did not like how intimately the other was speaking to him, even less that the bastard was prodding at something he hated to think about. "Fuck off... Like you know anything..."

"But I do."

The chained redhead stiffened only slightly before relaxing with a snort. "No, you don't." The only people who knew anything about his 'issues' had been dead for years and they wouldn't have told anyone.

There was a soft sigh of frustration and Kid tensed as fingers ever so lightly touched his face. He growled and bared his teeth threateningly until the digits were removed from him after only a moment.

"I understand you more than you think. You scream to the world every single day; trapped, wounded, and alone, and no one has heard you." The psychotic doctor was closer now, practically whispering, sending a distinctly unsettling feeling through Kid. "But me."

Trafalgar stood up suddenly and strolled over to a wardrobe a ways from them, opening both doors wide and gently removing something. "I usually keep this in my bedroom or my operating theater, but I knew I would need to show it to you, perhaps to remind you of something."

The bound man just watched as the mad medical practitioner approached him with an object covered in a white cloth; it was large and was carried carefully, until finally it was placed delicately on a wheeled nightstand that was then pushed into place alongside Kid for him to view it more closely.

When the cloth was almost reverently lifted from the object, the red haired man stared in shock at a work of his that he had not seen in a long time, and had thought to never see again.

"...It was you? You're the one who bought it?" There was a clink as Kid had made to touch his masterpiece, only to be rudely reminded of his current state, aching to run his hands over the gleaming metal of perhaps his finest art piece.

In front of the artist was a creation that he had thought lost to him forever.

While opening his first booth at a street art event meant for both amateur and professional artists to either make their debut or find new commissioners, he had placed it out as only something to draw attention, a sample of his abilities. He had never intended it to be sold.

The redhead had been away for less than an hour to look around the fair, only to return and it was gone.

Kid had been enraged when he found that his former agent had sold it without asking him, the man having sputtered and, in an attempt to calm the upset artist, had given him the outrageous amount of money the buyer had paid for it. The amount had been enough to shock the redhead into silence for a moment, but it hadn't stopped him from punching the bastard and demanding all the details of who he had sold it to.

Unfortunately, there hadn't been enough details to track the person down, and Kid had mourned the loss of a creation that had meant more to him than he could ever admit to.

And here it was, in the hands of a demented admirer who had apparently been so engaged by his work that he had tracked down the then budding artist's new agent and set himself up as Kid's anonymous patron.

The metal sculpture being held so delicately by his captor in front of him, was maybe his 'grandest' piece, much more elaborate than most of his works. It was also one of the largest yet most intricate, the material itself was worth quite a bit on its own.

The base was solid brass and the top of it was covered in small handmade figures of the same metal, depicting many people as well as detailed structures of a city. The long hours of work on each small individual element that had gone into it were obvious. That in itself would have made it a valuable piece.

But the focal point was above it, hovering over the figures below like a malicious shadow. A bird made of high quality copper with a deep red sheen: the painstaking detail that went into the avian predator made it appear surprisingly alive, each individual feather detailed to great extreme. The wings were spread wide, body and lethal talons poised to swoop down upon the oblivious humans. The only thing seeming to hold it back was the bright silver wire that originated from two equally shining pillars behind it, the wire trapping and cutting into its wings, crippling the beast.

Though, oddly, if one looked more closely at the creature, they would see that its face was turned away. Its expression was one of torment, a single eye watching the figurines below with near desperation.

Kid had poured everything, every part of himself, into this piece. He had also nearly destroyed it upon completion for a few reasons, though mostly because it felt far too intimate to allow anyone else to see it.

He jerked his attention back to the surgeon when the other spoke, so absorbed in his own creation that the redhead had forgotten he was not alone.

"It seems like a beautiful interpretation of benevolence triumphing over wickedness... But we both know that it is something much deeper than that, isn't it?" The redhead remained silent. "You went to art school, so I assume you know what Art Psychology is, Eustass-ya: where one can deduce things about the artist simply by viewing and interpreting their work."

"...Yeah. So?" The words were spoken quietly, almost like he didn't really want to be heard, much less answered.

Trafalgar's expression was gentle, making Kid, if possible, even more uncomfortable. "A few interpretations that could be made by most would be that it is a representation of a source of good in your life that has 'saved' you from an inner torment. Another would be that you see yourself perhaps as a sort of protector. But the pillars and the people do not reflect you, do they?... You are not the savior, nor are you the saved."

The bound man was stubbornly refusing to look at the psychotic doctor, fists clenched as he tried and failed to ignore the other steadily growing closer to a taboo subject. "Shut up."

"...You are the predator."

Knuckles bleached deathly white as fists clenched. "Stop. Now."

But like the sound of a sympathetic snake, the words continued to hiss softly through his ears. "You are the restrained force, desperate to be freed from the crippling moral chains placed there by the ones you hold above all else. Your parents, perhaps."

A chord was struck at the mention of his parents and Kid's head snapped to the side to glare at the madman. "You don't know a damn thing, so shut the fuck up!"

"You most likely started showing signs as a child: quickly resorting to violence to solve any disputes at school, other 'destructive' behaviors, easily agitated, drawn to the exceedingly morbid, an inability to connect easily with other children perhaps. Maybe you found yourself fascinated by death, dead animals for instance, you may have even killed some-"

"I didn't kill a damn thing! They were already-" The seething artist's mouth snapped shut with a click.

"It is alright to talk about these things, Eustass-ya. You are safe here. You asked before what I can possibly do for you." Trafalgar's tone was probably meant to be soothing, however, his riled captive was anything but calmed.

The redhead was back to his futile thrashing and pulling at the chain uselessly. "I don't want a damn thing from you!"

"I can help you create your truest art with the finest of mediums."

"...What the hell are you talking about?" Kid was breathing heavily.

The idea of someone calling the quality of his art sub par was enough to offend him to a point of once again realizing the ineffectiveness of struggling against his restraints, but he was still glaring at the other man, though there was now an edge of confusion to it. "What 'medium'? I already have one. If you've got a problem with the material of my work then that's your own damn issue and you can fuck off."

The sculptor had to hold back a flinch when the surgeon stood up abruptly, leaning over him. "Oh no, you misunderstand. I speak of the materials that call to the deepest, darkest, part of you."

"...And that would be?" Kid shivered and went deathly still as lips almost brushed the shell of his ear.

"Flesh, blood, and bone. Eustass-ya, I plan to give you everything that you have denied yourself for so long." The scarlet hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he could feel the man's slightly quickened breath wash over him. "You asked what I want from you. I want to see what you will become, the beauty that you will create; I want to protect that beauty from those who would seek to imprison or kill you for it. There are many, so very many things that I desire of you, but I will content myself with that for now."

The bound artist felt his heart stop for a moment. "...You mean you want me to-"

"I want you to kill for your medium; use their flesh as your canvas, their blood as paint, and their bones as you will. Eustass-ya," lips rested against his ear to gently whisper, "Let me set you free."

To Be Continued