Resurgence 5 (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

“MY DOOR!!”

With clenched fists, you drew your hands down to your sides and quickly stepped over the wooden debris in the entry way, making your way outside in front of the space where the door once stood. You had made it just in time to see the drunk man land in a heap at the bottom of the hill, and your door landing with a splintered crash a few feet away from his body. You could barely hear the man groan in pain over your own groan of frustration as you zeroed in on the broken door from your place on top of the hill.

“B-Balto!!”

The shorter male companion staggered past you, taking extra care to create distance between you and him with trepidation before stumbling down the hill to his friend.

You heard stuttering behind you, but didn’t bother to turn around. Your focus was only on the door, your vision tunneling in on the splintered wood.

“_____?! W-what happened? Balto just went flying - but that can’t be - .” A gasp, and you heard the squeaky woman step to your side. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the seagull bring her hands up to her mouth in shock as she found her associates at the bottom of the hill.

“_____, y-you killed him?!”

Your gaze shifted to watch the short man shake his unconscious friend’s body, calling out his name in a more sober and panicked manner.

“______!!” She screeched.

In an instant, your lips pursed and your eye twitched, a deep frown borderlining into a scowl appearing on your face. You flattened your hands against the sides of your thighs before you abruptly turned to the squeaky woman. You barely registered her flinch as she shied from you.

“The cafe is closed for today.” You slowly spit out. You could practically see your words passing through her ear and out the other as she stared at you in disbelief.

“W-what?” She squeaked out.

With one stomp of your foot, you moved directly in front of her to tower over the woman’s tiny form. Raising your good hand, you sharply pointed at your home.

“The cafe. Is closed. For today.” You seethed, but paused and squinted at the seagull-like woman for a brief moment before going back to a stoic expression. “Actually, the cafe is closed for the next 3 days. Telling the town should be no trouble for you, right?”

All you received was a face of disbelief and continued shock.

You quickly blew out a breath through your nostrils and moved to point at the two men at the bottom of the hill. “He’s alive. Tell your friends they’re banned from my cafe.”

Another pause.

“You’re banned, too.”

This seemed to wake the woman up as she began to stutter and gape at you. “_____ - wait, what?!”

You moved your face close and watched as she froze in place from the dark glare you sent her. “Banned. Leave.”

When she didn’t make a move to leave, you scowled and stepped even closer. Before you had the chance to say a word, the squeaky woman finally seemed to understand and scuttled to the side, taking extra care to sidestep away from you and quickly make her way down the hill to her friends. You could only watch as she hissed at her male friend with a flurry of words before the stout man threw Balto’s arm around his shoulders, wobbling away while trying to support his taller and unconscious friend. The trio - or duo, in this sense - did their best to make their way down the path leading to town, occasionally looking back at you on top of the hill.

As they disappeared from sight, you rubbed at your cheek with a deep sigh before focusing back to your destroyed door. From where you stood, you could already see there was no hope in trying to salvage the wood to make a new door. You’d properly trash it later.

You turned back to your home, before you abruptly stopped a few steps away from your entryway.

Law stood on the threshold of the entrance with one hand placed on the frame as he eyed the broken hinges. With his other hand in his pocket and a stoic expression, he turned to you.

Crap.

Grimacing, you bit at the inside of your cheek, bunching the fabric of your muffler to cover your mouth as you wearily eyed the tall man.

“...How much did you see?”

Law stared back at you, expression unmoving. “From when he grabbed your wrist.”

You scrunched your nose before swinging your head back to look up at the sky, groaning in defeat.

Crap.

Rubbing at your forehead, you heaved a sighed and brought your head back up to give Law a defeated look before moving forward. As you made to sidestep past him into your home, you give him a weak but pointed look.

“You saw nothing.”

With that, you stepped back into your home, missing the raised brow Law gave you. You removed your muffler and placed it on the bar, mindlessly rubbing at the bandages on your neck. You grabbed the grocery bag you had left on a table as you made your way into the kitchen.

You heard a barstool scratch against the wooden floor before hearing Law speak. “I haven’t seen a Devil Fruit enhance one’s own physical abilities like that before.”

Lips pursed, you placed the bag onto the counter and crouched down in front of the cabinet under the sink, pulling open the doors. Within it you reached inside and felt around, collecting dust on your fingertips. After a moment of groping the dark space, you felt something leathery and pulled on it; a large, brown tarp covered in dust bunnies crumpled in a heap onto the ground next to you and a cloud of dust formed as you patted it down for any existing tears. Not seeing any, you collected the tarp in your arms and stood, making your way back to the front of the building but not before snatching a hammer and depositing a few nails into your pocket.

“It was a mistake.” Barely sparing a glance at the pirate at the bar, you passed him and made your way to the gaping front entrance. You hooked your foot on a nearby chair by its leg and pulled it next to the door frame before stepping onto it, bringing a corner of the tarp to one of the corners of the frame. Hammer in hand, you pulled out a nail and positioned it over the tarp corner, ready to start nailing it in place to cover the gaping entrance. You reared your hammer back, but stopped short when you felt something yank on your elbow. Confused, you turned back to see Law staring back at you, inches away from your own face.

“Watch it.”

“What?” Your face screwed in confusion.

Law tugged at your arm again, giving a somewhat annoyed and pointed look at your hand.

Glancing quickly, you had to do a double-take.

You were about to hammer with your injured hand.

Shoulders drooping, you tugged your arm away from Law’s grip. When he stepped back and his hand fell away, you switched the hammer to your left hand and began to tap at the nail against the tarp and wooden frame. You made your way hanging up the tarp, slowly covering up the gaping entrance.

What were you supposed to do now?

Three townspeople had seen you use your ability, and one of them could win an award for talking someone’s ear off. How quickly would the town figure out that you weren’t exactly normal? You’re the woman who lives on top of the hill.

The woman who lives on top of the hill owning a cafe.

The woman who lives on top of the hill owning a cafe while harboring a stranger.

The woman who lives on top of the hill owning a cafe while harboring a stranger and has a Devil Fruit ability.

The woman who lives on top of the hill owning a cafe while harboring a stranger and has a Devil Fruit ability who flung a man to the bottom of the hill, potentially seriously injuring him and scaring the pants off his companions.

Wait.

You paused, hammer in mid-air.

It’s not like they understood what happened, right? Maybe they couldn’t even comprehend what they saw - they still didn’t know the man in your house was a pirate captain.

But, they would have to pin the incident on someone. Who would they blame?

You brought the hammer back down on a nail.

You.

Crap. Crap.

What could they even do? What could even happen?

Worst case-scenario: they’d throw pitchforks and torches.

Best case-scenario: You’d lose three customers.

But then again, it was your word against two drunk men and a seagull.

Right. Don’t overthink it. What happens, happens. What else could possibly go wro -

“Oi, _____-ya.”

“Hm?” You looked over your shoulder, but so lost in thought that you didn’t register that you were still swinging at the last nail on the frame, your hand reared back further than necessary due to your body turning.

Bang

You watched as Law’s face morph into an extremely incredulous look as he stared past you, before focusing back to your face. You gave an almost as equally quizzical look before turning back to find your finger, turning red, under the hammer that had missed the nail.

Crapola.

Moving your swelling finger behind your back, you stepped off the chair you used as a step-stool and tossed the hammer onto a nearby table, pushing aside the chair with a shove of your foot. With a straight face, you stood still for a moment facing Law, who continued to silently stare in what you assumed was disbelief.

Finally, he slowly opened his mouth. “You -.”

“Tarp’s nailed in. We’ll have to use the backdoor if we need to leave.” You bluntly cut him off, slowly sidestepping past him to the kitchen while keeping your back to the wall.

“Your finger -.”

“Hammer just brushed it, I’m fine.” You scooted along the wall past the bar, continuing to keep a straight face. “I’m going to unload the food, thanks for bringing it back. Appreciate it, really. Rest, or something. I’ll make something to shower after a eat -”

The corner of your lip twitched.

“I mean, I’ll make something to eat after a shower.” Giving the pirate captain a curt nod, you backed into the kitchen, away from the oblivious look he gave you.  

Hovering over the sink, you quietly listened for any movement in the dining area. You vaguely heard a sigh, before hearing shuffling and creaking up the stairs. After a few more moments, you let out your own breath and inspected your finger.

Red and continuing to swell, but nothing seemed broken or out of place.

Bringing both hands in front of you, palms face up, you inspected the rest of your hands before deeming nothing else had been further injured. With another sigh, you brought both palms up to press against your eyes, head dropping back towards the ceiling of your kitchen.

Just two more days.

------

Hot.

You let out a disgruntled huff, wiping at your bathroom mirror to see yourself; hair matted down and a frown on your face. You contorted your body to look at your shoulder, only to see it splotched red from the aftermath of scalding water. Looking ahead, the mirror was once again steamed up, covering your unhappy reflection.

First, your sprained right wrist after fainting and the cut on your finger.

Second, your swollen left finger from being clumsy with the hammer.

Third, what you could only assume was first-degree burn on your shoulder from not paying attention to the temperature in the shower.

Grabbing a towel, you dried off your body before carefully pulling on pants and a t-shirt. Another swipe at the mirror, and you inspected the rest of your body before taking a glance at the bruises on your neck.

Unfortunately, it looked like it would still take a few more days to disappear. In the shape of a two large hands, the purple and yellow discolored marks stretched across the expanse of your throat, encircling your neck to meet one another as if it was some sort of choker or large necklace.

“I look like an idiot.”

You opened the medicine cabinet, but deflated when you didn’t find any bandages.

Of course.

With a sigh, you threw your towel over your wet hair, draping the cloth over your bruises. Slowly opening the bathroom door, you peeked through to your bedroom.

On the nightstand you found a few rolls of bandages.

On the bed next to the nightstand, you found Law sitting on the edge, tossing a roll in the air and facing the window.

“Give me your hand.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, slightly taken aback as you hid half your body behind the bathroom door. “It’s...not necessary. I can do it myself.”

Law caught the roll in his hand, and turned to you. “With which hand?”

You: 1        Law: 2

You faltered, shoulders dropping before you hesitantly sat next to the pirate on the edge of the bed. You hesitantly placed your left hand into his own offered one, where he began unrolling the bandage to cover your injured finger.

With surprisingly quick movements, he wrapped your swollen finger with precision, securely tapering it off. You didn’t bother hiding your impressed expression as you switched hands for him.

Law noticed as he inspected your wrist and cut. “I’m a doctor.”

Right. A doctor. A pirate doctor captain. Or was it doctor pirate captain?

The two of you sat in awkward silence as Law began to unroll another bandage. It was already late morning; the sunlight shined brightly through the partially open window of the room, and the sea breeze gently rolled in.

“You’re getting water everywhere.”

“Huh?” You blinked away from the shining sunlight and to your side, catching Law’s impassive gaze. You noticed he’d paused wrapping your wrist, before spotting droplets scattered on your arm and the collar of your shirt.

“Ah, sorry.” With your free hand, you swiped at the droplets before reaching for the towel atop your head, slowly ruffling your (h/c) tresses. “I forgot.”

“Not because from the pain of your wrist?”

You shook your head, doing your best not to fling any more water the pirate’s way. “No, it’s just...a long-time habit. I was never one to dry my hair right away.”

Surprisingly, you heard a low ‘tsk’ from your side and you spared a glance at the pirate as he continued to wrap your hand.

“You’re 22.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly agape. “You - are you insinuating that I’m a child?”

Law gave you an impassive look in return before focusing his attention back to finishing wrapping your wrist.

You couldn’t help it - your lips twitched and a giggle escape your lips before you quickly smacked your better hand over your mouth.

Law looked back to you, an impassive look crossing his face before his brows narrowed. He tapered off the bandage of your wrist. “Did I say something funny?”

Making sure to choke down your laugh and pursing your lips before speaking, you removed your hand and quickly faced away from him, finding sudden interest in your bedroom door. “No, not at all.”

You just got lectured by a pirate captain on hygiene.

In your house.

On your bed.

Suddenly, you felt the towel that was draped over your head lifting, revealing your neck and bruises. Whipping back to face Law, you brought one hand to quickly clutch the fleeting towel close to your neck while slapping the pirate’s fingers away with your other hand. Law’s face of slight shock mirrored your own before morphing into a frown. Your nose scrunched with a bit of apprehension, eyeing his hand.

“I got it.” You clutched the towel closer, covering your bruises as you started to shift and stand from your seat.

“Those look serious.”

“It’s fine, they’re nothing - “

“Did you get it checked out?

“No, I don’t need - “

“So you don’t know if there’s internal or more serious damage to your throat?”

“Wh - .” You turned to give him a quizzical look, only to earn a stolid look in return. “What? No, I’m fine.”

Law’s frown deepened and shot you a sharp look. “Hoarseness, difficulty breathing, dizziness, abrasions, ruptures, memory loss, brain damage, lung damage.”  

You were dumbfounded.

Slack-jawed at the barrage of terms spat at you, you slowly tried to collect your thoughts as to why the pirate suddenly became a walking medical journal.

“...What?” You mentally slapped yourself for not having anything smarter to say.

“Possible outcomes that can happen from throat trauma.” Law stared at you hard at his spot on the bed, his lips in a straight line. “Let me look at them.”

You did your best to keep a straight face, but the idea of getting close to this man gave you a sense of weariness – not because you disliked the pirate, but because…well.

He was the one that made the bruises.

You didn’t hold a grudge, but you knew that Law definitely did not remember what had happened that night, all fever-induced and whatnot. You knew next to nothing about this man, so who are you to say that he wouldn’t overreact if he remembered that he was the culprit?

You wanted to avoid any more unnecessary trouble.

…But.

”Hoarseness, difficulty breathing, dizziness, abrasions, ruptures, memory loss, brain damage, lung damage.”

Now, that incessant voice in the back of your head started to make you think twice.

…Is he right?

Crap.

You didn’t want to keel over now. But with your certain…condition, it’s hard to determine if there really was a more serious, underlying issue at hand when it came to your injuries. What would you tell him - ‘Yes, there might be something seriously wrong, I just can’t feel it’? You could rattle off 5 reasons right now of why you didn’t want to tell this man about -

“If you were to suddenly drop dead from your injuries, the townspeople would think it was the stranger in your house and come after me. I would rather avoid that situation.”

And there was also that.

Avoid. Unnecessary. Trouble.

You closed your eyes and tightly pursed your lips, gripping the towel hanging over your bruises in your fists before relaxing your fingers. Slowly breathing out through your nose, you opened your eyes to give Law a slightly defeated stare before moving, sitting yourself down next to the pirate on the bed. You pulled off the towel and shifted so your neck was more visible to him.

“Just…please do it quickly.” You fidgeted, your hands falling to your lap and interlocking together.

You: 1        Law: 3

Law didn’t respond for a moment, and you grew antsy as you actively avoided making eye contact with the man. When warm fingers met the skin of your neck, you couldn’t help but jump anxiously, your eyes darting to look at the pirate.

He looked back at you, his face mere inches away from your own. But, just like the past few days, he continued to give you an impassive expression.

“Relax.”

How.  

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

Surprisingly, despite his stolid exterior, Law’s fingers moved deftly around your throat, massaging here and there as he inspected your bruises, while you continued to anxiously avoid making eye contact. You made an effort not to fidget as much as before, hands clenching together tightly every time he would touch a different part of your throat.

You heard him mutter something, and you hesitantly glanced at him – his face still close to your own. “Huh?”

“You seem to be able to speak just fine…” His warm fingers brushed across a bruise before settling on the center of your throat. “Swallow.”

You slowly swallowed.

“Did that hurt?”

Crap.

“…No?”

Law paused and he raised an eyebrow. “Did that, or did that not hurt when you swallowed?

Please stop asking that.

“No. I mean…I don’t…know?” Your eyes looked everywhere but at the pirate.

You were met with silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Just answer the question.” Fingers met your chin and Law turned you to face him.

“Did it hurt?” You could hear a hint of irritation as he slowly repeated the question at you once again, his face mere inches away from you.

Your teeth clenched a little and you tried to jerk your head back, but Law’s firm fingers kept you in place.

Biting your lip, you frowned at him. “No, it didn’t hurt.” After only receiving a suspicious look in return, you continued. “Are we done now?”

Please say yes.

“No.”

Damn it.

Law’s mouth opened, paused, and then closed, seeming as if he decided against on saying something. He shifted, moving to pull your hair away.

“Hold your hair back, I’m going inspect the rest of your neck for injuries.”

You reluctantly did so, relieved that he didn’t ask the same damn question again.

The two of you fell into another bout of silence before Law spoke again, fingers still moving across your neck.

“Avoid putting any pressure on your bruises. Overall, they don’t seem serious. Massage them to encourage blood flow, and you’ll be fine.”

“…Thanks”. You didn’t know what else to say. You let your damp hair fall back in place as Law pulled his fingers away, and you watched as he pointed at the left-over rolls of bandages on the night stand.

“Also, don’t use those. They won’t help with anything. I don’t see why you used them in the first place if there was no bleeding.” Law muttered the last bit, eyes squinting as he brought his hand up to rub at his temple.

Unintentionally, your lower lip protruded a little and turned into a small pout. “I didn’t want the townsfolk to see and start a new gossip circle.” You brought a hand up to your bruises, gently massaging at the discolored skin. “That’s the last thing I need nowadays.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Law’s hand stop in place before dropping to his side. You turned to see a confused stare looking back at you. “What is it?”

Law frowned at you. “The townspeople didn’t do this?”

You looked back in slight confusion. “What?”

“I thought that drunk did that to you.”

You balked, offended. “That jerk? As if he could do anything; he’s always intoxicated. Today was the only time he was ever able to lay a hand on me, and look what happened to him.” You huffed. “None of the townsfolk would ever be able to do this to me. They’re all decent people, today was just unfortunate luck.”

A pause.

“Then who did it?”

“Hm?”

None of the townsfolk would ever be able to do this to me.

Oh no.

You watched as Law brought his hand up to his temple again, rubbing at it with closed eyes. A scowl was forming on his lips as he cracked an eye open to look at you with mild curiosity. “If it wasn’t someone in town, who was it? I don’t remember seeing any special travelers or anything earlier in town.”

You felt your hands begin to get clammy and a bead of sweat start to roll down the back of your neck. Abruptly standing and starting Law, you clasped your hands behind your back before cracking a smile onto your face.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He won’t do it again.”

“He?”

Damn it.

“If he makes it past you and attacks again, there’s a chance you won’t recover as well as you did this time.”

“He left!” You hurriedly squeaked out. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “He left. Sailed away when you were still sleeping. Don’t worry about it.”

Law gave you an unconvinced stare before closing his eyes, grunting in response as he continued to rub at his temple. Taking it as a sign that the questioning was over, you stepped away from the bed and backed towards the door.

“Look, it’s been a long morning. I’ll cook something for lunch, and you can get some rest, alright?” Not receiving any complaints in return, you quickly backed out of the room and closed the door.

Practically sprinting down the stairwell, you hurdled down the steps into your kitchen. You stopped in front of your beloved stove that has been your common hideaway spot to go to for the past few days, before promptly squatting down with your head between your knees, hands buried in your damp hair.

Avoid. Unnecessary. Trouble.

Too close. That was too close.

While you definitely didn’t know how he’d exactly respond to discovering that he was the culprit behind your bruises, he most likely wouldn’t be happy.

And living with a stranger who’s unhappy and realized that you lied to him would not be great, especially if he questioned if there was anything else you lied about.

Not to mention he’s a pirate. A pirate captain. And this wouldn’t be the first time you encountered an unhappy captain, who you assumed could potentially destroy your home.

And you.

You let out a tiny whine.

You barely know the man.

You barely know the man.

What the hell were you doing? Going through this much trouble for a stranger? Burning your bloodied sheets, getting injured, losing your front door, bringing an onslaught of different emotions, becoming the center of attention after living a quiet life of seven years? Were you going at this the wrong way this entire time? Have you been too nice, too accommodating, just for a man you saw dying behind your house? Should you have been warier, and done more when he unconsciously tried to kill you, and put those annoying handcuffs back on? Should you have sent him on his way to fend for himself after coming to terms that he would live?

Seeing spots, you realized that you had unintentionally been holding your breath, and quickly blew out the air and took the moment to regain your senses. You cleared your throat, bringing a hand to your bruised neck. With slow movements, you brushed your fingers over the discolored skin, inhaling and exhaling deep breaths.

No.

Your fingers stopped moving, pressed up on your bruises.

Your gut said otherwise.

A poor excuse, maybe. But you’d been able to survive all these years based on the choices and decisions you’ve made up to this moment. And your gut hasn’t been wrong in a long time. On that first night when you first saw Law all bloodied and broken, and when you had pushed him off after trying to strangle you:

You just knew.

What would you gain in questioning it now? You saved a man’s life. That’s it. Everything else would be taken care of afterwards when he’d leave with his crew.

And honestly, all of this stressful thinking would give you an ulcer.

Another unnecessary trouble.

“I’m overreacting.” You mumbled to yourself.

Who were you to say that he wouldn’t behave positively, or at the least, dismissively if he discovered that he tried to kill you, and that you lied to him? Right?

Right!

With newfound positivity, you made to stand, slapping at the sides of your thighs, ready to start preparing some lunch.  

But you stopped short as your surroundings took on a blue tint.

You’d first noticed the blue…film seem to stretch out from behind you, filling the kitchen but stopping short of the entryway into the bar of your café. You questioningly observed how the blue film took the shape of a dome…maybe a sphere? You couldn’t make it out quite specifically.

Ah.

You started, realizing that you were carelessly spacing out at the strange phenomenon.

Were you in trouble?

AH.

Was Law in trouble?

Confusion and apprehension crossing your facial features, you quickly turned and started for the stairwell.

But once again, you were stopped short, this time by the pirate captain materializing in front of you.

You threw your hands out in front of your body to stop yourself from barreling into Law. A hint of relief filled you as Law grabbed your upper arms, glad that he had the same idea to stop you.

“Law, are you alri-AH?!”

And then your back was against the wall.

It took you a moment to realize that the pirate had swung you around with a forceful grip so you were backed up against the wall of your kitchen, securely holding you in place. His long fingers dug into your arms, and the deep, scowling frown on Law’s face took you by surprise. His striking gray eyes took on a darker shade as he glowered at you in obvious distrust and anger, and he slowly leaned close to your face.

“What are you after?” Law slowly seethed out between gritted teeth.

You wordlessly gaped at him, and could only watch as his scowl grew and his brows narrow deeper. Law’s grip on your arms loosened, only to snatch at your wrists and slam them against the wall over your head with one of his large hands. Wordlessly, he slowly brought his free hand to brush at your neck, only to suddenly enclose your throat in his hand. His fingers wrapped around the finger-like bruises, and you watched his scowl deepen even further as he put pressure on his grip - not enough to choke you, but enough where you felt trapped.

“Why,” Law leaned in closer, his nose inches away from your own. “Why did you lie and not tell me that I was the one who tried to kill you?”

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t talk.

So you closed your eyes, and felt the pressure on your throat increase.







Avoid. Unnecessary. Trouble.







Thanks a lot, gut.