![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mekachu04Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex
Additional Tags:
|
|
|
Summary: Its a light rain, warm fresh water splashing his face, the edge of a tropic storm building on the horizon. It picks at his memory, like a forgotten dream, a lullaby from the few calm points of his childhood; a point of peace where he knew he was going to die, but that was okay. He's thirteen again, and his world is ending, but it's okay, because he wasn't alone anymore.
Corazon is standing at the front of their tiny ship, staring out at the storm with a look of worry. He was just as Law remembered him, large and imposing as equal as soft and kind.
It was a nice dream to die in, Law supposed.
"Want some help?"
It was worse when Killer looked up in surprise. In fear. His knife pointed at Law.
His hair had been pulled and clumped up so that his face was exposed, terrified blue eyes locking with Law's. There was already a bruise forming over his right eye, starting to swell after taking a blow or two to the face. Tellingly, his mouth was bruised too, red marks on his jaw and cheeks were someone had held him still. The blood from his last three assaulters was painted over his hair and face, highlighting his cheeks, red paths picking through the spit and spend left behind by the others, a crimson bath washing it away.
"Killer," Law raised his empty hands, "It's just me."
Killer looked away then, blade clattering to the ground though numb fingers, fear turning to anger as he attempted, and failed, to gather his supplies back into his bag. Every time he put one item in, a new one fell out.
Law carefully approached, making sure to project his steps, and knelt down to help pick up Killer's stash. Tinned food. Smashed hard boiled eggs, some smeared into the ground, a shoe heel print in the mess. A block of hard cheese, a paper package torn in half and spilling with some kind of rolled greens. Killer looked at the items in Law's hands, clutching his torn bag to him.
"Please... don't tell anyone. Dun' tell Kidd."
"I wont tell Kidd," Law agreed, "What did they break?"
Killer stared at Law's hands. "I had gotten a jar of-"
"On you, Killer-ya? What did they break, on you?"
Killer looked away, his gaze on his bag. No, on the arm holding his bag, the one that had a death grip on the straps throughout the whole of the fight. Law pulled Killer's bag gently away - his arm was swollen where it looked like it had been stomped on - the same arm Law had reset last night. "Okay. Okay. What else did they do?"
Killer didn't look at him, just hunched in on himself.
"Killer." Not a question, "I can't heal what I don't know about."
Killer shook his head, "Just my arm today."
"Your face says otherwise."
Killer flinched, pulling away.
"I meant the bruising..."
"Not something you gotta worry about, Mini-Doc." He tried to smile it off, to dismiss it with a snort of forced laughter, attempting to wipe the mess of his face off by rubbing cheek and chin on the shoulder of his good arm.
A part of Law prickled at being talked down to like a child, but he had to remind himself that as far as Killer was aware, he was a child. Maybe only just slightly younger than the teen, but still a child. And Killer himself was young, and probably unprepared to have such a conversation with anyone yet.
Law set the food down gently, and formed a 'Room,' taking Killer's arm in hand for the second time in 24 hours. Nest, He tried not to stare at Killer's face when he turned his attention there, carefully repairing broken blood vessels and soothing the bruises away. He let Killer's admission roll around in his head. "Is that the 'duty tax' they said you had to pay them?"
"Not like I have money to give them. It's stupid anyway, it's not even their turf. When Boss Athair catches them, he'll garrote 'em with barb wire and let the birds pick 'em clean."
"Lovely." Law looked over Killer's bag, with a 'Room' already up, it didn't take much to stitch the ripped sides back together. "That's why you walked Victoria back this morning. She doesn't know."
"She's a mill girl - they pay their tribute to Boss Athair directly with a cut from their profits. I'd hope those dumbfucks'd be smart enough not to mess with her...."
"Them getting killed after the fact doesn't undo Victoria being hurt."
Killer nodded. "See, you get it."
Law packed the food into Killer's mended bag, before pulling them both up to their feet, dismissing the room. "I can't figure out how to get out of here, lead us back to Cora-san and the boat. Uh... Please."
Killer shouldered his bag before spending a moment trying to shove his bangs back down correctly. "What were you doing out here anyway?"
"I was looking for a sterile place to preform a surgery. Kidd suggested the barber."
"Oh yeah, he does most of the amputations on the island. Best survival rate if you go though him."
Law looked at him in horror. "Please.. Please tell me that some morbid joke"
"Infection's really common with the trash and rust." Killer explained, completely missing the real reason for Law's reaction, "Gangrene and sepsis and all that. Happened to like.. half the island by some point."
"I feel duty bound to set up a clinic here when I decide to retire. Barbers...."
Killer chucked, an awkward fwufwufwu that he looked embarrassed about before trying to play it off as a cough; Law carefully did not respond.
Once the open trash piles finally came with insight, it was a weight lifted from Law's shoulders. He didn't realize how oppressive the city was until they left. No wonder Kidd and Killer chose to live in the scrap yard.
No wonder they all would one day take to the sea.
Instead of leading them back immediately to the shelter, Killer took them deeper in the the scrap yard - the Heaps as he called it - all the while nonchalantly looking for a tail. Law could feel people watching them and stuck close to Killer, uncertain why they had changed course. With Kidd back with Cora-san, he didn't think Killer would double-cross him, but he was also realizing that he was running off information of the people they'd become and that he had no guarantee of anything right now.
His paranoia at this new traveling companion proved unfounded in the end, thankfully, as he realized that while they had gone in circles, Killer wasn't trying to confuse him so much as those following them. Finally, they lost interest, and Killer marched them back to a patch of junk no different as far as Law could see from anywhere else, but Killer certainly noted something that stood out and started to pull junk and metal sheeting away.
Revealing a cubbyhole of softer items, cloths mostly, and little metal box that looked homemade, which Killer opened to reveal a collection of miscellaneous items, inducing a few boxes of stale cigarettes. "What's Hearts smoke?"
Law glanced over Killer's shoulder, "None of those.. I've never even heard of these?" he picked out one box and tentatively sniffed it. It smelled like salty stale tobacco. He wasn't sure what he excepted. On a whim, his sniffed one of the other packages, as he looked at the other things in Killer's box.
Killer handed it to him, looking grossed out by him sniffing them - clearly not a smoker then - and shuffled though the clothes. "I don't think I have anything that will fit Hearts either... "
"We've got clothes in the boat." Law eyed the coins curiously. He'd never really seen any South Blue currency before, people and animals on them that he had no frame of reference for.
Then Law noticed the bottom of the box he was holding was too far up for the size of the box, and forgot about Killer completely for a moment as he started to look for the seems to the false bottom. He grinned like a loon when he was finally able to pried it loose.
Killer had turned away from him, scrubbing his face and hair as best he could with his already ruined shirt, before tossing it aside and pulling a new one out of his stash. Well - new for him maybe - it was already blemished and discolored, too loose in the shoulders once he pulled it on. But it was a nice light purple with a subtle pattern and it looked alright enough on the teen. Law was sure Cora-san and Kidd would both notice the wardrobe change, but it was a far cry better then the discarded one with it's fresh stains.
With the teen paying him no mind, Law lifted the false bottom up, only to find a few scraps of cloth, most no bigger than his own hands, and a small little stuffed toy vaguely looking like a pig. Blood had dyed the fabric a dull red. Law carefully tucked the pieces away before putting the base back in it's place.
He behaved himself and did not pocket any of the coins as he picked a pack of smokes that triggered memories of Cora-san the strongest and waited to hand the box back to Killer to rehide. Law watched the teen fold other garments around it until it was just a bundle of cloth and worked it back into the crevice. Law noticed that besides his ruined one, there was a pinstriped short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants that had been ripped at both knees.... "I think you forgot some?"
"Hmm?" Killer looked back before grinning, laughing to himself, "Oh no - those are for Kidd. Last night's storm helped, but he'd starting to get a little rank. He's also ripped the ass of his current pair so many times at this point, I'm not sure I can sew than back up anymore."
Law packed the items up in Killer's bag as he went about shuffling trash back over his cache. And then shuffling the trash to cover that things had been shuffled in the first place. By the time he was done, Law - who just watched him hide the belongings - couldn't even guess where they were anymore.
"I'm... impressed," he said finally, and he meant it.
"It's good, right?" Killer grin stretched ear to ear, "Kidd can't even find them without cheating! Speaking of, lets go see how Hearts is managing with him."
