The distinct smell of disinfectant stirs you a little.

Your sinuses haven't been this clear in years.  

A warm grip tightening around your hand, the touch is gentle but firm.

Sabo?

"Come on, princess..." That low voice causes your heart to ache, a vivid beat pounding in your chest as you give the man's hand a weak squeeze in return, your breath stuck in your throat.

Dad.

Your eyes feeling heavy as you slowly crank them open ever so slightly, although the brightness of the room causes them to shut again straight away, a wince etching itself into your features as a soft groan rumbles in your throat. 

Damn it...

"She's trying to wake up again, doc." Your father's voice giving you the motivation to try again, the lighting still burning your retinas but you forcibly squint them open enough to see two blurry silhouettes by your bed. 

One with grey hair and the other with black.

"That's fine, her vitals are good, Beck-ya." The one with black hair suddenly becoming all the more obvious to you now that you've heard that little nickname. 

Law.

Blinking a few times, your sights slowly begin to adjust, your father's face being the first you focus on. You try to speak but the only sound to leave your lips is a strained huff. 

"Take it easy, my sweet." You father urges with a subtle smile, his hands clasping tighter around your own. "Don't push yourself too quickly." 

Your gaze shifting to Law instead, the raven is stood off to the side and leaning against some drawers, a frown on his face and his eyes focused on a doll in his hands, the doll you previously possessed.

You can see that he remembers it, because he had one made in his image also. 

All the kids taken by Doflamingo did.

But you're more preoccupied with how he looks these days; his skin is tan and there is no white patch in sight, his eyes look as tired and haunted as they did when he was young but there's a glimmer of light in them that wasn't there before, not to mention he now has facial hair and tattoos. 

A particularly morbid one written across his fingers brings you some amusement.

D E A T H 

As cheerful as he was when he was a kid, I see. 

But then something else occurs to you. 

"Whe-ere...?" 

Where are my friends?

"Take it slow, [y/n]-ya." The doctor calmly warns, setting the doll aside before he walks over to you, taking a small torch from his pocket and clicking it before shining it into your eyes, much to your dismay. "Follow the light for me." He instructs before trailing it to one side, your tired eyes following the movement slowly. "Good."

Gradually, you come around more and more, your fingers finally twitching when you try to move them and your lips managing the faintest of smiles when your attention settles back on your father's face. "Y...You've...aged."

He smirks despite your bluntness. "Losing a child does that to you."

You want to apologize but you can't muster the words, not that it was ever your fault to begin with. 

"I have a late birthday gift for you, my dear." Your father finally releasing your hand to reach into the pocket of his cloak, pulling out a small box. "It's only one of many gifts that have been waiting for you." 

Waiting?

He never gave up on me...

He lifts the lid of the box with surprising softness, revealing a solid gold necklace, it sparkles a little in the light and has a charm hanging from it in the shape of a heart and inside the heart spells the word 'princess' - you smile weakly at that.

"Pr...pretty..." You want to say so much more but every word is hard and painful to say, your vocals haven't been used in 13 years, it's going to take some time before you can talk freely again. 

"It has a tracker in it, so never take it off, okay?"

"Tra...cker...?"

He nods his head. 

"I've lost you once, angel. I can't go through that again." You don't miss the slight crack in his voice as he says that, the emotional torture clear on his face, it makes your heart feel heavy. 

You give him a smile in understanding, your eyes giving him silent permission to place the accessory around your neck, a blanket of security washing over you as you hear it clasp after the fact. 

Never again will you be taken away and imprisoned. 

Not without your father knowing exactly where you are.

You might even pity the person who tries to take you away after this. 

Your eyes scanning the room once more and your brows knitting together when you still see no sign of the brothers who got you to this point, Law clearly noticing your confusion since the boy smirks to himself. 

"Your friends are in the waiting room, [y/n]-ya." Is all he murmurs before heading toward the door, seemingly deciding to leave you and your father in peace himself. 

Your hand trembling as you subtly reach for your parent, the man immediately taking hold again with a gentle smile. 

"I like...the flowers..."

"Good."

Hours pass and he doesn't move a muscle, staying with you and holding your hand in his own the whole time, as if deep down he was scared to let go.

As if you'd disappear again if he did. 

Even when the doctors came in to check your vitals and to remove or replace your tubes, he wouldn't leave your side.

And he certainly wouldn't let go of your hand.

The man ending up falling asleep in the seat beside your bed, much to your amusement.

Who would have thought the great Benn Beckman could be so soft-hearted.

A click sounding from the door and drawing your attention as a certain blonde enters the room quietly with a shy smile on his lips and a very pale blush dusting his cheeks. 

What's gotten into him?

Little do you know he has been in the waiting room for hours, being teased by his brother the whole time over his 'very obvious' new crush.

"I just wanted to bring these in for you." He whispers while setting down a box of chocolates on the cupboard beside your hospital bed. "Figured you'd be hungry sooner or later."

A sweetheart as always.

"Thank...you..." You whisper, your voice still strained and sore but he's worth the effort. "We'll share...when I can eat." 

Your words drawing an adorable smile to blonde's face as he gently nods his head, his eyes shifting to your father briefly, seemingly making sure he's still asleep before he speaks again.

"I look forward to it, [y/n]..."

----