Chapter Text
Law trudged through the building snow on Minion Island, his voice silent once more not because of a Devil Fruit but because he’d sobbed himself hoarse. If he hadn’t known better as a doctor, Law would have thought his heart had been physically torn in half. His tears had long since frozen to his cheeks and eyelashes. His feet became heavier with every step until they tangled beneath him, causing him to stumble. He fell forward, catching himself on all fours. His arms shook, and he clenched and unclenched his fists a few times, trying to keep the blood flowing as he watched the white spots dotting his skin vanish into the snow like a twisted camouflage.
He tried to push himself back up—to go just a bit further, to find the town Cora-san had mentioned—but his arms buckled with the effort of holding his small frame up, and he tumbled face-first into the snow. Law sputtered and, realizing there was no way he was getting up now, rolled onto his back and stared up at the gray night sky.
Artillery shells boomed in the distance, and the ground beneath Law shook as cannon fire hit its intended target. The flash of explosions cut swathes of light through the sky. It was still too close. Law needed to keep moving, to keep going forward, but his body felt weighed down, each limb impossibly heavy with sickness and grief.
He blinked as snowflakes landed on his face, catching on his eyelashes and tickling his nose. He was so tired. His body was so close to giving up the fight against Amber Lead Disease, yet now that he had the cure at his fingertips, he didn’t know how to make it work. Not for himself, and not for…
Hey Law, I love you!
Another sob caught in Law’s raw throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Cora-san…
If he opened his eyes again, he’d have to face a world that felt impossibly colder without Cora-san’s goofy smile. Maybe he could just rest for a couple of minutes, then he’d keep going. Build up a bit of strength to escape.
Just a couple of minutes before he had to accept that Cora-san was…
His thoughts trailed off as the world faded into nothing.
Doflamingo stomped through the snow, reaching out with his senses for any sign of Law. He’d dropped the Birdcage when it became apparent the boy was outside its confines. Anger still coursed through his veins at the way Rosinante had so completely fucked up his plans, both long- and short-term. Law was meant to be a long-term investment, his future Corazon, but now that he’d eaten the Ope Ope no Mi, there would have to be a change in plan.
Not only that, but there was no telling what nonsense Rosinante had filled the boy’s head with while they’d been away. Before they’d left, Law had been loyal, willing to do anything for Doflamingo and his chance to take revenge against a cruel world, but now he ran from the Family. Doflamingo did not like when that which was his was taken from him, and Law had been his. He’d claimed Law the moment he welcomed him into the Family, eye toward the boy’s incredible potential.
He’s free! Rosinante had said before Doflamingo had been forced to pull the trigger.
Oh yes, Doflamingo was furious that Rosinante had forced him to kill yet another member of his family over a betrayal.
But beneath the anger—deep, deep down in a place Doflamingo didn’t like to look or even acknowledge existed—he mourned. He grieved the little brother whose shaggy hair had covered his eyes when they were children as he trailed Doflamingo around their home like a puppy, and he grieved the man full of secrets that that shaggy-haired boy had grown into, his second Corazon. His Heart.
Of the four members of the Donquixote Family who’d left Mariejois all those years ago, Doflamingo was the only one left. One lone Dragon.
In his coat pocket, his Den Den Mushi crackled to life, pulling Doflamingo from his reverie. “Young Master, we’ve found Law,” Baby 5’s voice reported.
Doflamingo’s lips twitched up. Finally, some good news. This night could still be salvaged. He pulled the snail from his pocket and replied, “I’m on my way.”
Sengoku listened as the reports from the action against the Donquixote Family came in, heart in his throat. This was the best chance to finally finish the mission that had become personal when Rosinante had volunteered—no, demanded—he be put on it.
Oh, Sengoku had been against sending Rosinante into the Donquixote Family at first, knowing what kind of reputation Doflamingo was building for himself. But Rosinante was bound and determined that he would make up for some misplaced sense of guilt—whether for his brother’s actions as a pirate or his family’s legacy as Celestial Dragons, Sengoku didn’t know or dare to ask—by infiltrating the pirate group and arresting Doflamingo, thus stopping the circle of violence that had defined so much of his life.
Sengoku had hated it as a father, but as a Marine, he’d known Rosinante was, in fact, their best chance at getting a man inside that group so had allowed it. If things went well now, his son could finally come home.
“This is the landing unit,” his Den Den Mushi reported. “The Donquixote Family left behind a gravely wounded executive. The medics are trying to stabilize him now, but he’s been shot a half dozen times.”
Sengoku’s hand tightened around the receiver. “W-which executive?”
“His code name: Corazon.”
Call it a father’s intuition, but he’d somehow already known it would be Rosinante, though his son had promised he wouldn’t be anywhere near Swallow Island for the operation. Still, Sengoku’s heart fell to his feet. Why had he lied?
“Tell the medics to do everything in their power to keep him alive,” Sengoku nearly growled to the men on the other end of the line. He was distantly impressed his voice wasn’t shaking as he thought about his son bleeding out in the snow. No, it doesn’t end for you now, Rosi. Not yet. “That’s a fellow Marine, and we don’t leave men behind.”
“Sir!” came the clearly shocked reply before orders were yelled into the distance, likely at the medics.
Sengoku was already pushing up from his desk as he gave his final orders. “As soon as possible, I want Corazon sent to the nearest Marine base, and I want the best doctors on standby. I will meet you there.” He barely heard the soldiers giving an affirmative before he ended the call and started toward the door. If he had to bring Vegapunk himself to the North Blue to save his son, that was what Sengoku was going to do.