Part 2 for the blank eyes scenario please???
(Part 1 here. I don’t know how to feel about this second part but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Law’s kicked my ass as I tried to finish this up and my document on this was 12 pages so this is a long boi! But it’s done!)
Chief of Staff Sabo:
It had been 5 days since the incident. The longest he’s been without you since he’s met you. Even when he was away for missions for the revolution, he thrived on hearing your voice over the den den mushi. Those lonely nights didn’t compare to now. You were next to him but you weren’t truly there.
The doctor had informed him that you were given a high dose of an already strong sedative so all she could do was give you liquids to hydrate you and your body had to basically fix itself
She was clear that she didn’t know how long it would take and that she would let him know when you woke up but, no matter how many times she assured him, he still sat by your side
He felt like he didn’t deserve to touch you, even sitting in the chair next to your bed was too much of a privilege. But it was agony to just sit there.
Anytime your body twitched or a whimper erupted from your throat, he stood from his seat and pressed his hands against the bed, leaning close. It would only be a brief moment of pain before you were back to breathing heavily. The pain didn’t last long for you but it stuck with him for a couple of hours afterward.
He found himself unable to control his tears. He would rub his eyes from being tired but then find that they were wet. Once he was aware of it, the sniffles came and he would have to look away from you to try and stop crying.
It was a constant feeling of pain that became numbness. It was as if he was shutting down more and more with every day you didn’t wake up.
Koala and/or Hack tried to get him to leave the room but eventually had to resort to physically picking him so he could get his basic necessities met, like eating.
He played with his food more than actually ate it. The only way the others could get him to eat was when you were mentioned.
“They would be upset that you’re not eating because of them.”
It was hard to eat when he had no appetite but he would eat as much as he could stomach before pushing his plate to Koala. Once he got her approval, he would go straight back to the infirmary.
It was uncomfortable sleeping in the chair but he wouldn’t even notice when he fell asleep until the pain in his neck roused him back to consciousness.
The doctor would frequently wake him up, worried for his health, and urge him that she would get him when you showed any sign of waking up
He refused every time. He needed to be here with you. Especially since he led you to this state.
It was the early morning of the sixth day when dread and hopelessness hit him.
He had a nightmare so horrendous that he woke up gasping and trembling as his watery eyes looked at your form.
Dozens and dozens of voices, including Ace’s, tormenting him and blaming him for your state, as if he didn’t already do that to himself. Then you were there standing in the darkness, bruised and broken with those blank eyes. Those blank eyes that he had never wanted to see again.
A choked out sob left his lips and, despite feeling like he didn’t deserve it, he reached over and clasped your hand in both of his, your warmth immediately causing him to let out another sob.
A couple hours later, when the sun had actually risen, the doctor found him with his chair pulled up close to your bed (closer than it's ever been in the past couple of days) and his head resting on your stomach, clasping your hand still and breathing softly. Despite how uncomfortable he looked, his breathing was the calmest it had been since you entered the infirmary.
When he woke up, he didn’t move from his position, instead nuzzling against your belly. Your warmth was so comforting. It meant you were alive. That was relieving. He stared at your face, soft mumbles leaving his lips on how he would apologize and never treat you in such a way again.
It was on the seventh day, a week after the incident, that he felt something in his hair. He had fallen asleep against your stomach again when he came back from Koala’s daily meal check, hand intertwined with yours.
He groaned, cracking his eyes open slightly. He felt a movement in his hair and it made his eyes snap open the rest of the way. His hair was being stroked with.
He stood up in his chair so quickly that it even startled him with how it crashed on the ground but all he could focus on was your eyes. Your droopy yet surprised eyes.
He felt the dam burst as tears flowed down his cheeks and sobs ripped through his throat, lifting his free hand to his mouth to muffle them.
“Dear… you’re crying… Why?” Even hoarse and broken, your voice sounded like it came from the angels themselves, making him dizzy and light-headed. So much so that he fell to his knees by your bed and clutched your hand to his cheek, soft mumbles of apologies leaving his lips against your palm.
Your hand went limp in his grip and he turned his attention back to your face, his breath hitching, until he noticed that you had fallen asleep again.
For the first time in a week, he voluntarily left the infirmary to sprint to the doctor’s room and wake her up.
She took you off of the painkillers and told him that the next time you woke up, you should be more cohesive and aware.
He was sitting in the chair by your bed again, staring at you and gripping at his shirt to ground him. He didn’t have to wait for long.
You woke up an hour or so later and he had to keep himself restrained as the doctor went over to you and helped you sit up.
She did a couple of tests on your reflexes and consciousness. She sent him to get you food and water and it was the fastest he’s ever moved.
Once she was satisfied, the doctor left the two of you alone. There was a tangible and suffocating tension as you refused to look at him.
He stood up from his chair and moved to sit next to you on the bed. Your eyes finally met his, sad and confused but not blank. It was a strange mixture of hope and despair that hit him when he saw that.
He took your hands in his and held them close together, his eyes never leaving yours as his welled up with tears.
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I said to you. I was irrational, inconsiderate, and… and… a jerk for lack of a better term.” He could see the way your lip twitched and you tilted your head at his words. “You have every right to never forgive or believe me but I’ll spend the rest of my days making it up to you.”
He lifted one of your hands to press your palm against his cheek, eyes boring into your own. “Words are nothing. I can only show you my remorse and love with actions. I don’t even deserve a second chance, I know that, but if you blessed me with one, I won’t take advantage of it.”
He closed his eyes when you didn’t say anything and he released a shaky breath, barely able to keep his tears back. He was about to move your hand away from his cheek but you lifted your other hand to cup his face properly He opened his eyes again and a few tears trickled down when he saw the cute pout on your lips but you still had a twinkle in your eye.
“You were really mean to me…” You murmured, your thumbs rubbing against his skin contrary to your words. He let out a soft whimper at that and nuzzled against your palm.
“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t-” You cut him off with a small kiss, his lips as equally chapped as yours but it was enough to send more tears to fall. It was short but it was enough to make him dizzy.
“I’m tired… Take a nap with me…” You murmured, letting his face go to lean forward and rest your forehead against his collarbone and your hands were on his chest.
He was pretty sure that you could feel his heart racing under your fingertips but he pressed his lips to the top of your head instead of addressing it. It wasn’t long before he was laying down with you, cradling you close to him and pressing kisses over and over on the top of your head and tilting your head back slightly to press endless kisses against your face.
The relief that washed over him when you nuzzled against his neck was enough to drown away the guilt for now, murmuring in your ear as you giggled tiredly and dozed off in his arms.
You had a puppy following you for the next couple of days. His affection was turned up a couple of notches but no one had the heart to tease him after seeing how much pain he was in in the last week.
Of course, you’re not entirely yourself so you have to visit the doctor to work on the trauma but he accompanies you, whether you want him in the room or out in the hall.
Even after you fully forgave him, it would take a while for him to forgive himself. It’s very obvious when he’s thinking about it because he’ll come up to you at random times and hug you tightly or he’ll cup your face and look into your eyes.
When you tilt your head and smile at him, the panic leaves his chest and he’s relieved again.
Even arguments have changed. Due to fear that you could be taken from him again, he makes sure that there is some type of resolution. If either of you need space from being too heated, he initiates a moment of silence between the two of you before embracing, murmuring something about talking later
He knows that there are arguments that cannot be solved in the moment so the one thing he wants to make the clearest in the fog of anger is that he loves you.
Arguments are bound to happen but having that embrace helps in the cooling down process.
He never wants to make you cry again, and he definitely doesn’t want to see you go through a horrendous experience like that again.
Monkey D. Luffy:
You had opened your eyes later that night but before Luffy could even start yelling, Chopper had shoved him out (with the help of Zoro) and you were checked over
He slipped out the infirmary after your checkout and immediately locked the door before his rubber captain launched in, obviously making Luffy upset.
“Hey! What’s the big idea?! Let me-!”
“Luffy, listen!” Chopper sighed as his captain only pouted before he continued. “Look, (Y/N)... Went through a really… horrifying trauma, okay? They only told me a little of what happened and it…” He shook his head and rubbed his hooves over his eyes. “... You’re not the person they want to be around right now.”
Luffy could only stare at the doctor, his heartbeat deafening in his ears. You… You didn’t want to see him?
He puffed his cheeks out, hating the pain in his chest as he looked at Chopper. “When can I see them?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then I’ll wait here.” He plopped down against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and a pout on his lips.
It didn’t matter how much Chopper tried to convince him to leave the infirmary and do something else, Luffy didn’t move the whole day, even when he whined to himself on how hungry he was getting.
Even though you didn’t want to see the captain, Chopper was worried about your state, especially your blank eyes. So he made a decision. Out of everyone, Luffy would be the person to spark something in you again.
You best believe that Luffy sprinted in after Chopper made him promise to not touch you if he let him in.
He almost immediately forgot but stopped himself before he jumped on top of you, the sting in his chest bubbled into anger at seeing you bandaged up
The pain from before was ten times worse when he noticed your eyes were staring at him, as blank as when he first found you.
He silently sat on the end of the bed next to your legs (with his own crossed on top of the covers) as he stared at you back.
“Stop that.” You didn’t respond as you continued staring. He reached over and poked your cheek. “Those aren’t your eyes.”
He puffed his cheeks out when you were once again silent and you moved your gaze to your lap.
He moved his fingers to spread his face as far as he could and made silly expressions and noises, yet you only stared.
He hated it. He hated the silence that came from you. The blankness in your eyes. He wanted to see you laugh at him and smile, how your eyes crinkled at the corners and you would clutch your stomach from laughing too hard.
He didn’t give up though. He was Monkey D. Luffy. He would get you back to yourself.
He filled the silence with anything and everything that was in his mind, updating you on what the crew was up to when he went out to get your serving of food.
Despite you not answering, he filled the silence. He didn’t like the silence. When he was at your side before, there was never silence. The two of you with silence only fit when you went to bed together. It had only been 2 days but he missed doing everything with you, even the most mundane of tasks.
He ran out of things to talk about fairly quickly, his plate of meat that was sitting next to yours on the nightstand was unappetizing, and he couldn’t bear to stare at your emotionless eyes any longer.
What else could he do? You weren’t you right now. He tried talking and feeding you. What else could there- and then it hit him like a pile of bricks. He really sucked at all of this.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” He murmured, noticing how your body flinched before he ducked his head.
He gripped at his ankles and stared at his lap, surprising himself as he started to tremble. His throat felt tight and there was a stinging in his eyes.
“I… I don’t know how to be a good boyfriend. Chopper told me that I hurt your feelings and I didn’t get it. I should have followed you and protected you. I’m not good with these feelings. I know that when I’m with you, I’m happy. When you smile and hug me, my heart beats like crazy. When you cry, everything hurts. All I know is that I love you and you love me… Right?” He gripped his ankles tighter, feeling tears against his eyelashes. “And… I know that I hate seeing you like this. I’m sorry I made you cry and that I hurt your feelings. I’ll take it more seriously next time when you tell me that I’m making you sad. I don’t get it but, if you tell me, I won’t do it again. I’ll try my hardest to get how you’re feeling from now on.”
Despite the deal he made to the ship’s doctor, he let his ankles go, the skin there turning red from his grip, and crawled over your sitting form. He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, making sure that was the only spot that was actually touching.
“I’ll be better… I need your help to do that… But I’ll be better and… make sure that I won’t make you cry again.” He nearly whimpered, annoyed at how he had to press his eyes against your shoulder more to stop from crying.
He flinched when he felt your hands on his biceps. He stayed frozen as your hands moved up to his shoulders before they went in opposite directions, one hand on the back of his neck and the other resting just under his shoulder blade. He felt the slight scratch of your nails against his neck
The small gesture was enough for him to fully wrap himself around you and nuzzle against your chest, murmuring his apology over and over again
After a while, the room became quiet except for the small sniffles that still escaped him. He kept his pout on his lips, even as he was pressed completely against you, and your fingers stroked through his dark hair. He closed his eyes with his ear against your chest, finding solace in your heartbeat. The occasional rub against his shoulder blade or scratch on his neck made him continue to hold you tight, moving occasionally to nuzzle against your neck before moving back to listen to your heartbeat again.
He was, of course, yelled at when Chopper came in the next morning and saw him lying on top of you still. What he didn’t know, as he was pretending to play dumb at the scolding, was the slight twitch of your lips at the two of them.
You had eventually moved your arms to fully hug him later in the day and his grin was wider than it’s been in days when you murmured a soft “I’m hungry”
Holding your hand tight in his, he led you to the kitchen, enjoying a meal with the crew for the first time since the incident.
He shocked everyone when he slid some of his food onto your plate. Since he didn’t have as much food, he clung onto your arm and endured the teasing from his friends. He was just beyond happy that you were coming back.
Despite your physical injuries healing nicely, the psychological ones were something he wasn’t ready for. It didn’t matter to him though. You were strong and he would help you through it when you couldn’t find that strength.
He would sleep in the infirmary with you when you were afraid to go to bed or let you rest on top of him in his hammock when you woke up from a nightmare
Chopper helped you find ways for your anxiety and PTSD so Luffy would try and remember your coping skills too.
When he sees you upset, he’ll become clingier than usual. He’ll try to make you laugh or, at the very least, smile. If he notices you haven’t eaten, he’ll carry you (most likely piggyback because he loves having you wrapped around him) to the kitchen and ask Sanji for food.
Sanji at first thought it was a ruse for Luffy to get an extra meal but, when he saw how your face was pressed against the captain’s neck or hair, he realized that it wasn’t the case
Luffy sits with you and actually keeps his hands away from your plate. But… if you do give him pieces, he will be a very happy boy.
He tries his best, he really does, but emotions still confuse him. He goes back to that day when he recognizes any of your distressed features. He’ll straight out ask you what your feelings are and if he did anything to make you feel that way. He wants to understand so he can be better.
Red Hair Shanks:
Despite Shanks and the crew’s desire to not stay in the same place, he made it understood that no one was leaving until you healed… and woke up.
It had been about two weeks since you were swept into darkness and he felt helpless sitting next to your form.
The doctor had given you a strong dose of medicine that would keep you unconscious so that your wounds would heal without disturbance. He was the only one that Shanks trusted around you while you were so fragile
The rest of the crew, growing restless, decided to find things to do in town. They mostly found themselves defending the small businesses. No one realized how criminal ridden the town you lived in was until they explored, but they found their entertainment in the thugs and bars.
He would sit on the bed next to your sleeping form and hold your hand in his. He would only leave when Benn told him to eat or the doctor kicked him out. He wanted to be there when you woke up.
The one time he left your side was when the crew had tracked down the ones that abducted you. They had fled once they woke up from Shanks’ haki and hid in the mountains
His crew was bored and still seething so he would be the last person to stop them but he also wanted to be there. Even to a low tier thug leader, he would prove why he has the Yonko title.
When he got back, the doctor met him at the door and told him you were awake.
Despite the speed he had when he got to your bedroom, he hesitated on knocking. He had already decided that once he apologized, he would take whatever “punishment” you deemed fit
… Even if it meant you never wanted to see him again.
He finally willed himself to open the door and enter your room.
He shut the door behind him but kept his back to the wooden surface. Whatever you were feeling, he would wait until you gave him your consent to get closer. He noticed that you were sitting up, your eyes wide while looking at him and he didn’t miss the way your lip trembled.
Immediately, apologies erupted from him, everything he was rehearsing since your argument out the window.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Gods, I’m so sorry. I should have taken you seriously then maybe this would have never happened. I can’t take back what happened, despite how much I want to, I love you and I always assume that you know that but it’s not fair to you, especially when I pull stunts like I did to make you upset in the first place. You’re my important person, (Y/N), but if you… if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I understand and it’s something I deserve. I just-”
“Shanks…”
He stopped at your shaky voice and lifted his head to face you. You were crying. With your tears falling and your bottom lip between your teeth, you released your tight grip on the blanket and stretched out to him
He was quick to close the distance between the two of you, wrapping his arm around you and holding you close so his face was pressed into your neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat as your one hand found home in his hair and the other gripped the back of his cloak.
Your broken sobs and tears made his chest hurt. He covered your neck with soft kisses before pulling back and doing the same to your face, murmuring apologies and affirmations in between.
When you calmed down, he pressed a long kiss against your mouth, sighing against your lips when your hands cupped his face.
You were still shaking like a leaf when he changed your resting position so you could snuggle against his side with your head using his bicep as a pillow.
All he could do was curl his arm to have you close to him as you cling onto him.
Everything must have been too much too soon because he felt your staggering breaths even out against his chest and your shaking had stopped. Despite your loose grip, he stayed with you, smoothing your hair out when you would whimper or a tremor went through you.
The doctor had to convince him to leave your side a couple times to see the extent of your psychological state and that was tough for the captain. He would have to take your hand off of him so he could leave the room. He hated the panicked look in your eyes and the way your hand was still in the air, reaching for him, but he knew it was necessary
The doctor warned him of the possible reactions you would have after such an event, reactions from dissociating to violent outbursts
He was no stranger to outbursts such as that. Years on the sea, meeting hundreds of people, he was actually very skilled with handling most of the outbursts that you exhibited
Despite your reassurance, he decided to stay for a while longer (the crew knew better than to complain, especially under Benn’s supervision).
On one of your more coherent and calmer days, he’d bring up the conversation from before because he honestly cares more about your wellbeing than his own feelings.
If you still want to be with him, then he’d do what he can so you don’t have to ever go through something like that again.
Leaving with him is the most ideal situation in his mind. The two of you can be together (no one would mess with you when he’s by your side) and you’ll be seen by the doctor that he trusts the most.
After a long talk, even if you think it’s best to break apart, he still stays for a while. He’s still your friend and he cares about you and your emotional wellbeing.
Being with him on the sea, you get to enjoy the aloofness that is the Red-Haired pirates but your lover knows when to pull you away and get you to calm down.
He takes what the doctor tells him seriously. Whether you need medication, company, or just space, he doesn’t hesitate to do it.
What happened to you keeps him up at night with a bunch of “what if’s” but he knows you’re struggling more. When it’s just the two of you at night, he stays up talking with you or drinking with you until you doze off
He’ll spend a couple moments after you fall asleep to admire you before he falls asleep too
He knows that adjusting can be difficult, not only to ocean life but to the mental adjustments after your trauma, but he’s your number one supporter. You’ve got the rest of the crew to support you as well when he can’t be there, which is rare.
He doesn’t expect everything to go back to normal. But he’s willing and ready to accept this new scenario as normal. Especially if it’s for you.
Trafalgar Law:
It was unbearable. The role of being a doctor was too much on his shoulders sometimes. This was one of those times.
With your injuries, he had to induce a coma. Not only that, from the way your skin looked, your blood wasn’t circulating as normal as it should.
He then came to the horrifying realization that you have been poisoned.
Now, he had to find a cure for the poison that coursed through your veins, unknown of how long you’ve been like this or how long ago they administered the poison. He was racing against the clock.
Despite how much he hated it, he left your side to reappear at the facility. To say that the room’s temperature shifted would be an understatement.
As he stepped towards the leader of the criminals that took you, his footsteps echoing, the leader would soon see why he was considered the “Surgeon of Death”
The man before him was far too stupid to know how the poison worked so he demanded wherein the facility the posion was made
Even his own crew had to look away as he got the answers out of the man.
After getting what he wanted, he sent the crew back to the sub while he went to the room that was acting as a makeshift laboratory.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, skimming through books to look for the name of the poison, trying and failing to keep you off his mind.
When he finally found a book on the poison, he had to keep reminding himself to breathe as he frantically read through the pages
His hands were tight on the pages as he read the effects of the poison:
Phase one: numbing of the body
Phase two: numbing of the soul
Phase three: numbing of the mind
Phase four: desensitized state for four hours
Phase five: toxin invades the bloodstream
It had been three hours already since he found your frozen state. He didn’t have much time left.
He flipped frantically through the pages, finding the antitoxin page and scanning over it. He “room”-ed himself back to the sub and flung the book to his desk as he began working.
He couldn’t look at you. Otherwise, he would lose his focus, his sense, and his patience. He needed to treat you like a patient; not his lover.
The antitoxin was administered through a syringe and all he could do now… was hope and wait.
He slumped next to the chair by your bed, staring at you with his usually stoic expression while his nerve endings went insane.
Did he make it? Was it enough antitoxin? Would it even work? Were you… already gone?
He reached over and held your hand in his before putting his other hand over the top. He held your hand up to his mouth while looking at you. The coldness in your hand did nothing to ease his anxiety.
Your form was making his heartache. Why did the two of you have to be so stubborn? Why did he always look for a fight when it wasn’t necessary? With you of all people? His eyes shut as he squeezed your hand
“I’m sorry.” He said into the room, unsure if you’d even be able to hear him in such a state. “I shouldn’t have started that stupid fight. I’m sorry…” He stopped himself, looking to the side.
It just didn’t feel right. Saying his apology to your comatose form wasn’t right and he was being a coward
Despite being your lover and doctor, he was still the captain. He still had the others that he was responsible for.
The crew couldn’t bear watching his tired form roam around the submarine, looking like a phantom as he walked and checked things off in his mental checklist
He was a perpetually tired man but the reason this time was upsetting to them.
Their clumsiness had decreased as everyone tried their hardest to have the ship in tip-top shape to ease at least some of the captain’s worries. Even Bepo complained less when his captain came up to him and just rested his forehead against the bear’s stomach
He’s used to exhaustion, but this was worse. Sleep called to him but only tortured him when he beckoned to its call.
He’d get about an hour of sleep before the nightmares startled him awake
He sleeps in the infirmary just in case so, when he wakes up, he immediately goes to your side and holds your hand to his lips
After 24 hours, he feels like collapsing from finally seeing your vitals rise to normal. Your steady breathing and the warmth that returned to your fingertips made him have to leave the room for a moment to compose himself.
It eases his mind enough that he takes you off the medicine that kept your body comatose. Hopefully… you would wake up soon.
It was another waiting game. He couldn’t just stare at you all night in the hopes of you waking up so he went to patrol the submarine. It might have been the middle of the night but it was the only thing to calm his nerves and distract him.
After triple checking that the submarine was on the correct course, he made his way back to the infirmary to check on you when a sudden scream of his name echoed in the hall
He sprinted down the hall, ignoring how his crew members peeked out from their rooms, and slammed against the door to the infirmary, swinging it open.
You were sitting up, grasping your blanket and tears streaming down your face. Even from the doorway, he could see how much your body was shaking and the hiccups spasmed your chest.
He knew that a person of trauma might be psychologically suffering so he should be cautious with touch but, the way you hiccuped his name again and reached for him, looking as if you were going to climb out of bed, he hesitated no longer.
He closed the distance and brought you into his arms, one knee on the bed so he was impossibly close as you clawed at his back. Your sobs and cries were so raw and primal that he had to grit his teeth to hold his own tears back.
His lips were against your ear, whispering instructions for you to calm down. He directed your breathing and he was able to relax once you caught your breath.
Your breaths were still shaky but you were no longer hyperventilating. Your grip on his back loosened and you shifted in your spot. Law pulled his arms back, panic fluttering in his veins as the doctor's side of him came back full force.
Before he could even scold himself, your arms wrapped around his neck and brought him close to you again. This embrace was different. The first one was primal and a way for you to ground yourself. This one was desperate still but intimate. His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you just as tightly, wanting to feel the warmth of your body against his. He buried his face in your neck and mumbled apologies and thanked whatever power there was that you were awake.
It could have been seconds or hours by the time he could feel your trembling calm down but that’s when the doctor part of him came back out. He checked your vitals, asked you about your pain, and gave you painkillers, for both your soreness and headache.
If you try to bring up the argument, he’ll urge you to get some proper rest. If you insist that you talk about it, he’ll press a soft kiss on your forehead. He promises that you will talk about it when you recover a bit more.
He lets the crew see you once he deems you in acceptable condition; which is good because you were immediately engulfed by the crew, many in tears.
Even when he knew that you both were going to have a serious talk in a matter of moments, he couldn’t help but feel relieved as you smiled and cooed at the members that had been worried about you.
The talk over the fight is hard and painful as the memories are difficult to go through, the guilt weighing heavily on his soul when he sees the slight tremor in your hands. It’s hard but necessary to move on.
The relationship has obviously changed because of what happened.
Dumb arguments still happen but there’s no more wandering off to cool down. Any anger will leave him if he sees that you’re about to break off to cool down because of how much worry that fills him.
Even when you’re both pouting, he’ll still kiss your forehead and grumble that you’ll finish the argument later. Sometimes, the anxiety of what happened before comes back up and the pride is finally deflated enough for the “argument” to be solved before any real problems show up
He’s become protective of you despite knowing your strength. It’s just better for his sanity that you are with someone, especially when you’re on an island infamous for crime.
The relationship isn’t the same but he loves you too much to give up on the bond you two share. Whatever trauma came from the situation that you suffer from, he becomes stronger to carry both of you over the bad moments.
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