[ Poor Law, who ( even temporarily ) has to deal with the awkward dance between Ace and Sabo. Poor Law, who must juggle his oath as a doctor with a patient both transparently bold and deeply evasive, ducking and side-stepping pertinent questions because of the naked hopelessness of the situation. But also, not poor Law. Because Ace had asked him to do the work on his behalf, and because Ace retained faith in him — he knew there was no saving him, but he'd never asked to be saved. Just made comfortable. Just prolonged, for a little while longer. A little more.
He finds Law in the tiny kitchen area of the boxcar-shaped apartment the three of them share. Haggard and limping with exhaustion, his hand out to catch his weight on the counter as he shifts himself around the corner of the lopsided cabinet made of splintering wood and checker-print drapes to make it all seem homey and warm. ]
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countershocks) wrote2020-06-29 04:08 pm
ACTION!
He finds Law in the tiny kitchen area of the boxcar-shaped apartment the three of them share. Haggard and limping with exhaustion, his hand out to catch his weight on the counter as he shifts himself around the corner of the lopsided cabinet made of splintering wood and checker-print drapes to make it all seem homey and warm. ]
Give me your hand, doc.
[ An exhausted tone, but still a warm one. ]