Bedside Manner (Law x Reader)

20. Stilled With a Touch

"Love you too, shortstack." Kid rumbled sarcastically. "Maybe I should charge you for this work after all."

You scowled at the lockers across from you. A knee drawn up and your free arm draped over it.

"A member of Donquixote's family works here."

It was silent on the other end for a split second before a rain of metal echoed through the receiver. Kid's heavy breathing was heard following what you assumed was him tossing random car parts and tools.

"Are you hurt?" The man finally dared to ask.

"No." You started to slowly push yourself up to your feet. "They just made themselves known to me. She's not a fan of me as is, so I'm sure she was thrilled to learn of our connection."

You knew something like this would happen. You scowled as you remembered the day Monet walked in during your spat with Kid. How many times had she been lurking outside the door, listening and feeding information?

"I knew they would come after me--"

"I told you they would come for everyone!" You snapped. "This isn't a group you take so lightly. You better be looking after Heat and Wire.

You need to listen more to the people who care about you."

You were aware that he didn't enjoy being scolded, but you were upset. Shaken. More so because she had alluded to the accident that had taken Killer away. Had she left it at everything else, you would have thought her actions were spurred by simple jealousy and told her where she could shove it.

"I'm coming over."

"Wait, what?" You furrowed your brows. "You don't need to come. I'm still at work anyway."

"You shouldn't be alone if they try something. What about that shitty doctor?"

You rubbed at your eyes in a weak effort to fight away the burn. Fatigue was setting in quick. "What about him?" You yawned.

"If you don't want me in your hair, ask him."

No thanks.

And say what? Hey, my brother pissed off one of the most criminal families in the grand line and now they're coming for blood-- and I'm on the hit list?

You shook your head. "I'll keep a baseball bat by my bed or maybe I'll just get a dog."

A really big, mean looking dog.

You hung up after that, not giving the red head a chance to curse at you in his frustration. You knew he was worried and probably blaming himself right about then. You wouldn't, couldn't, blame him. The more you thought on it, the less convinced you were that you wouldn't have done the same if you had learned the identity of the other driver from that night.

You felt your phone vibrate, still, and vibrate again from its place inside your sweater pocket.

You wouldn't pop in to see Shanks and the crew that night after all.

You stopped after passing one of the rooms the staff typically kept a couple cots in for a quick nap during exceptionally long shifts. You could have sworn you had caught a familiar figure slouched over in your peripheral.

Stepping back to peer in through the cracked open door, your eyes were met with Law's sleeping form. He was seated on one of the cots, back against the wall and his chest steadily rising and falling.

He didn't look very comfortable.

Quietly, you stepped into the room, illuminated only by a square nightlight plugged into the wall above the counter and pushed the door shut.