Runaway Train

chapter XIII

i'm the king of doubt

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"Corazon…" Law's jaw grew tense as he bit at his lip and made a few exaggerated gesticulations to ask the younger, presumably, Donquixote why he was there. Not that there were that many options for an explanation, and Law already had one that seemed most logical.

Did he order you to follow me, Law's gestures asked. Corazon didn't react at first other than by exhaling a puff of smoke, fingers curled protectively around a stick of a cigarette. Penguin, still figuratively frozen stiff on the floor, glanced between them warily, shoulders tense as if he was expecting trouble to brew from this. Law couldn't blame him. Corazon was about as tall as his brother and similar even in build, which made him appear all the more threatening with very little effort.

Would you believe if I said no, Corazon finally signed back at him, eyes flitting from Penguin's hunched form to Law's defensive stance. He's worried you might run out on him, you know, Corazon continued without waiting for Law to decipher and answer the first one.

"This feels like you guy are talking about ways to mutilate me, you know," Penguin laughed weakly from the floor. Law only rolled his eyes in response, not even trying to be soothing as all the bones within himself ached with tension.

Doflamingo? Law had to sign the letters individually, which was a pain. I'm sure he has other fuck buddies to play around with when you people go home. Why worry about just one loose person of benefits?

Even though he hadn't uttered a word in this conversation, his lips tasted sour like the lies they spun casually. Sometimes it was the only way to survive: denying the truths and embracing the lies. (Not to mention how much more comfortable living in lie was compared to truth.)

Corazon's lips around the cigarette and its white-gray smoke tightened and curled into a dismayed frown. My brother is many things, and a liar is one of them, but I can tell he's genuine when he says he wants you by his side.

The words unfurled something inside Law, something that wasn't meant to be unfurled at that time. Law felt breathless, words stumbling and knocking against his teeth as he wanted to ask what the fuck was Corazon smoking to make him talk like that. Anger was one word for the feeling that burned Law's gut: a simmering, just about to boil, anger that tingled in his fingertips and marrow of his bones.

It was like being called out on all the shit he had been avoiding doing, called out on not living like he should, and it pissed Law off in several ways.

But I don't want to be by his side, so there's that little thing, Law signed with mocking carefulness to each movement he made, each mouthed word as he glared at Corazon with narrow eyes, yellow irises blazing gold. He meant the words, but his chest twisted with a sickening nausea. Probably from the drug withdrawal, Law thought. The dizziness was going to come soon, and he would rather be sitting inside a warm train when it hit.

Liar liar, pants on fire, Corazon signed back at him, and his red lips curled up in amusement at Law's expense. I'm not going to force you to come with me, but there are some benefits waiting for you in Dressrosa, if you decide to come.

Law frowned, his hands dropping momentarily to his sides as he took the time to evaluate the expression on Corazon's face. Penguin's breathing was heavy enough for it to be audible over the shivering silence. Law found it difficult to focus on over his bustling thoughts that ran aches across his skull in their wake.

He knew he was stubborn to the point of foolishness, but it wasn't easy to accept that maybe someone did care for him for real and that maybe, just maybe, it would be fine for him to grasp the arm extended towards him and move on. The last part was always the most challenging. He hadn't been moving on for such a long time, now.

But whether he liked it or not, Doflamingo had forced the gears in Law's life to start inching forward with rusty coughs and some resistance, and that was something Law couldn't deny as he stood there, in a freezing bathroom with Doflamingo's brother and Penguin, someone that he wouldn't have met for real under any other circumstances.

Benefits? Law asked, both with his hands and his mouth.

Corazon's smile widened, and maybe it was just Law, but the corners of his eyes seemed to relax, the perpetual squint shifting away quietly.

Law read his next signs carefully, feeling his air slowly wheeze out from his lungs as Corazon's gesticulations started to make sense.

They're developing a cure for your syndrome in Dressrosa.

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Donquixote Doflamingo was, first and foremost, a businessman. Not one of legal business, at least not according to any international laws, but that didn't really matter, now did it? Best business was often illegal, and there was certainly less competition than in the legal market.

That was why Caesar was important — regardless of his clumsy conversational skills (the man was rather eager to please and slimy in ways that many of Doflamingo's business partners were), Caesar's presence mattered as his reputation in the underground drug production was first class in both quality and quantity. Recreational drugs were only a part of it; there were others, less addictive but ten times more deadly substances under development, and the underworld buzzed as everyone tried to get their hands on the formula.

Doflamingo was going to win that particular race, he had never held doubts about that.

"So, your notes regarding the production of the chemicals is here?" Doflamingo enquired moments after Law had disappeared from his sight, as well as Corazon. Eyes narrow behind shades, Doflamingo allowed the slightest sentiment linger and tug at his heart. That boy's going to be the end of me, was the fond thought that emerged every now and then when it came to Law. Attachment was, sometimes, a traitorous little thing, as the several cases of Baby 5's misplaced feelings proved.

"Indeed, Joker, that is exactly the case," Caesar hummed as he took out a silvery key from the large pocket of his winter jacket. It didn't look like a house key to Doflamingo's eyes, so he quirked an eyebrow at the doctor slash scientist slash whatever else he was. Doflamingo didn't really care, but he had to admit that Law's behavior around Caesar had piqued his curiosity. Law's eyes held a different level of coldness around Caesar than what was normal, and he tried harder to distance himself from everyone when that happened. Doflamingo was mostly irritated by the change, but there was a small speck of worry that wouldn't stop eating at him.

Tch, how human of him.

"The doors around here are always unlocked," Caesar offered as an explanation as he dove to a side valley and towards one of the tallest doors Doflamingo had seen around the place so far. Maybe he wouldn't have to bow his head this time around — pf, fat chance, he was too tall for about 90% of the doors in existence. Caesar ducked inside the apartment, and Doflamingo followed him after gesturing Diamante and the others to stay back.

It smelled like dust and shit inside, not that Doflamingo was surprised. Disgusting, like Law's apartment occasionally was, but Doflamingo wouldn't stay there for the night like he did with Law.

It was a small apartment, and Caesar obviously didn't spend much time there. Punk Hazard was mostly inhabitable, anyway.

"So, Joker," Caesar made an attempt at small talk, but Doflamingo paid no mind to the words as he inspected the small flat surfaces in the apartment that actually consisted only of one room, asides from the square bathroom and a couple closets. Some photo frames lay here and there, one of which caught Doflamingo's attention.

While Caesar rummaged through what little belongings he did have around, Doflamingo took the frame and stared at the photo, eyebrows quirking high in bafflement.

In the picture Caesar stood with Trafalgar Law by his side, and both of them were smiling — Caesar had his wide, slightly manic grin whereas Law's was more subdued, softer than what Doflamingo had ever seen on the man. No shit, though. Law looked like he wasn't even in his twenties in the picture, or maybe just barely, and his eyes had no massive insomnia-induced bags. The gold of his eyes looked sharper, brighter in shade of color. All in all, he looked happier and healthier, even with the awkwardness of puberty that clung to Law like a clingy lover at that time.

More importantly, he didn't seem to feel ill at ease around Caesar at the time of the photo…

"Oh, you found that old photo," Caesar clucked his tongue by Doflamingo's side, sounding both iffy and wary at the same time. Good; if someone like Caesar feared Doflamingo, their business would be smooth sailing from there.

"It's a rather old one," Doflamingo knocked at the frame with the back of his forefinger. "It seemed like you two had a falling out of sorts, so why keep the picture?"

"Falling out?" Caesar snorted, arrogance seeping into his tone as his eyes narrowed at the photograph. "It must be quite one-sided, as I have no idea what pissed the boy off so much! I was even planning on taking him as my understudy, but all of a sudden he drops out from university! The gall of the man…"

Doflamingo hummed, smirking a bit. Well, whatever it was that had turned Law against Caesar — it didn't really matter, as long as Law wasn't plotting on killing the man. You could never tell with the addicts what they might do when the withdrawal symptoms surfaced.

"Whatever," he chuckled, "you found your notes?"

Caesar grinned, ready to launch into another rant as Doflamingo waved his hand dismissively. "Good, that's all I need to know. And you reproduce it in Dressrosa?"

"Given the proper equipment," Caesar sniffed haughtily, shrinking a little as Doflamingo stared down at him. "Yes, yes, of course I can, Joker, who do you think I am?!"

Doflamingo's smile widened as the wind whistled its melancholy notes outside. "Excellent."

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"I'm sorry about this," Law muttered to Penguin as he helped him up from the floor just as Corazon backed away from the door and left the bathroom for the two of them. "I'm not particularly interested in living, but what he said is curious to me as a doctor."

"Are you sure you're not just looking for an excuse to stay?" Penguin smiled at him, not offended by Law's decision to follow Corazon (and Doflamingo) to Dressrosa. "You're not the most honest of people, so I was just wonderin'."

Law sighed as he pointedly dropped his hold of Penguin's hand. "Don't be foolish. Sex isn't worth running to the end of the world for."

Penguin raised his hands in mock surrender. "Chill, I'm just saying that you should try honesty with yourself once in a while — it's really not so bad once you try it."

Law glanced at the still swaying bathroom door. His ears burned, but that was just the cold air that got to him, probably.

"I really wanted to meet Shachi, too," he said at length, the words slowly forming frosty fog in their wake. Hands shoved into his pockets and hair messy and unclean, Law felt exhaustion creep upon him once more, heavier than before.

"You're just gonna ignore what I said, huh," Penguin muttered, but didn't sound all that put off by it. "Don't worry about Shachi, man. You'll get your chances. Dressrosa, right?"

"Yeah," Law nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his dry lips. Shit, the skin was start to crack in the cold already. "Don't do anything stupid like come after me, though. It's a place for the filthy rich from what I hear."

"As if I didn't realize that already," Penguin snorted. "That guy wears his clothes like he's an emperor of the world or something."

"With him, it's a definite possibility," Law sighed and shook his head. "…Sorry, again."

"Hey, no problem," Penguin grinned. Law appreciated how easily Penguin took things; he himself would certainly have been pissed off after coming this far, only for the other person to change plans and leave with a man that was both dangerous and ridiculously self-centered. But Penguin wasn't like that. He was nowhere near as sheltered as Law was, nowhere near as cynical and short-tempered.

"'Sides," Penguin continued, bumping his fist against Law's collarbone, "you really gotta listen to your heart once in a while."

"Oh, shut up," Law grunted, rolling his eyes in unhidden exasperation while Penguin laughed in amusement. "See you never."

"Take care," Penguin managed to gasp between rasps of laughter as Law marched off with a burning feeling under the scarf that covered his neck. It wasn't even his; it was Baby 5's, but at least it fit his color scheme perfectly. The smell of tobacco lingered, both in Corazon's wake and in the scarf, as Law rushed out of the building, ignoring Corazon's presence that loomed over him as he dove into his own thoughts.

"You could at least offer me a fucking cigarette," Law grumbled to Corazon, turning his head so that Corazon could read his lips. He wasn't sure if the other was deaf-mute, but consideration was a dying breed in the world so he might as well be courteous just in case.

Corazon laughed silently, but he did offer Law one of his. The brand wasn't Law's favorite, but maybe he would live until he got back to the ship and Doflamingo's quarters.

A treatment for the Syndrome, Law repeated Corazon's claim in his mind. I kind of do want to see that.

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"Welcome back, Law."

Law's heart jumped at the warm tone, even though it was the same one Doflamingo always used with him. Brushing past Diamante, who smirked knowingly, and letting his signed conversation with Corazon to die, Law took his place by Doflamingo's side while pointedly ignoring the pleased smirk that took over Doflamingo's face.

"You got what you came here for?" Law asked, tugging at Doflamingo's boa. Getting the hint, Doflamingo draped his arm and boa around the other, squeezing Law against himself.

"What do you think?" Doflamingo laughed, the sound a low purr in his throat. "I always get what I want, in the end."

As it to emphasize that point, Doflamingo squeezed Law's side with his hand, fingers brushing over the sensitive ribs. Law bit back the urge to retort, opting to roll his eyes at Doflamingo's behavior. He'd save the sass for later, when they were alone with each other.

"Well, then, isn't it about time we head off?" Caesar sighed, and tension crawled to Law's spine as he cast a glance towards the other doctor. If he could even be called that — Hippocrates certainly would disapprove. "As much as I enjoy the sickening display of affection—"

Law pressed himself to Doflamingo's side, a contrived smile lingering at his mouth as he gave Caesar a smug look in return. You little shit, Caesar's frown seemed to reply, and Law's lips curled higher. Revenge wasn't on top of his to-do list, but he wouldn't mind taking pleasure out of annoying Caesar as much as possible while he had to suffer from his ex-professor's company.

There were limits as to how far Law would go with the act, but for now, playing the part of being Doflamingo's privileged person didn't seem too bad, especially since it didn't take much to act the part. Doflamingo did a splendid job on it for Law already.

"Time and place for everything, Law," the said man chuckled, but he seemed pleased by Law's action if that widening, teeth-showing smirk was worth anything. The whistles from Doflamingo's companions went unheard, despite the shrill tones and cackling laughs, as Law felt Doflamingo's heat wrap around him, undoing the numbness from the freezing winds and stagnant chills from the train station.

The icy feeling between his toes wouldn't be undone for a while yet, but later, in the rich-colored bedsheets, they would undoubtedly be warm with the rush of adrenaline and blood.

"You're not one for patience, either," Law said lowly on their way back to the ship, the one with the figurehead of a pastel-pink bird. Whether it would lead him to a brighter future or not was unclear, like everything in his life, and it didn't really matter whether he was going to be happy or miserable. Misery was a comfortable companion, more constant than warm waves of happiness, but regardless — Law might as well stick around and experience what Dressrosa had to offer.

The rest of his life might have been more pleasant with Penguin and Shachi, but Law pushed that thought aside. His professional curiosity had been aroused; he needed to know if there really was a cure, if everything that had happened could have been prevented.

It was his decision, even if it had been aided by Corazon and, Law was to loathe to admit it, also Doflamingo.

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The ship set sail that evening again once everyone had returned from the maze called Punk Hazard. Law didn't attend dinner, having no appetite, and spent most of his time in Doflamingo's (and his) quarters rubbing himself warm under thick blankets. He had returned Baby 5 the scarf with a curt nod and a few words of thanks, after which he had retreated into the room and into the bed.

He was exhausted, nausea welling up inside him as more time passed. He wouldn't be able to sleep again, he knew, but that was a small concern. Doflamingo would put him to sleep… one way or another, and Law's lips twitched at the thought, at the anticipation that whirred in his veins.

Law pushed himself up as he remembered that Doflamingo kept an extra pack of tobacco in the nightstand's drawer. It wasn't hard to get to, since Doflamingo didn't keep it locked — he even had a spare lighter there, and Law sighed in relief, knowing that he would feel significantly better once he got out to have a smoke.

Which he didn't do. He opted to open the small window to let the stuffy air escape out as he smoked, smoke burning in his lungs before he exhaled the gray wisps that flew to the opened window. It eased his headache a little bit, as he had thought it might, but it also reconfirmed his addiction.

Law heaved out another sigh, tipping his cigarette so the ashes would fall to the ashtray. Restlessness clung to him and his bones itched with the need to do something, anything, before he gave himself the chance to think and feel. Alcohol usually helped with that better than cigarettes, but Law wasn't entirely sure where Doflamingo kept his stash, so he didn't bother looking for whiskey or rum or whatever it was that the pirates in the old days used to drink.

He was… a mess, he knew. The way Caesar's eyes judged him said as much — like Law was on the bottom of the society, a piece of trash that didn't matter in the renowned doctor's view. It was the other way around, though; despite the fame bestowed upon Caesar Clown, he was nothing but a fraud, a torturer that experimented on dying people and who saw no profit in finding solution to the Syndrome epidemic that had run rampant in the City.

Law's eyes narrowed, heart beating harder at the acknowledged memories. He could have saved his family; Caesar could have saved him, too, if he hadn't been so bent on the profits of medical research and creating drugs that weren't for any medical condition.

In the long years that Law had spent in his apartment, lonesome and depressed, hatred had had time to accumulate. Despite its exhausting nature, Law had kept that feeling buried within him. Some days, it gave him clarity through the gray days, but most of the time it only made everything harder.

He hadn't really been honest with Penguin, in the end, but not about the thing that Penguin had pressed him about.

Law's fingers that the cigarette rested against twitched as Law stared at the dimly lit quarters, a surge of anger filling him up from the bottom to the brink.

Caesar Clown would die, either by his hand or by accident — this, Law swore.