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Mercy

Summary:

This is my piece A thousand Sunny Years zine!

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Anna let out a cry; with Law’s power came pain. Marco winced, seeing tears prick the girl's eyes as she whimpered; Law wouldn’t be done for a while. The room was soon consumed in bright blue as wings sprouted from his back. Flames of glimmering gold and teals danced in the dark room, and the girl stared wide-eyed at him. Marco smiled down at her, letting his healing powers help soothe her aching muscles and sore body, allowing his powers to take her pain away.

“Are you an angel?” she asked, her voice full of wonder.

“If that’s what you want to call me, yes.” Marco nodded, giving Law a look when he heard a snort. It’ll be over soon; just close your eyes.” Anna nodded, falling deeper and deeper into the incredible, calm feeling Marco provided until Law finished his surgery.
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Work Text:

The night sky loomed over the city's narrow streets; the stars could only watch on helplessly as humanity continued its path to destruction. Moonlight shone on the damp cobblestones. The sounds of coughing fits echoed down the passageways, accompanied by the creaking of signs batted by the wind. The same wind whirled down the streets, carrying the smell of filth with it. A window’s hinge cried out in the night, the shutter banging against the wall as a man heaved the large bucket onto the window sill, only sparing a casual glance below before tipping out the vile smell into the street, where it splashed loudly into the gutter, joining the rest as it trickled down the street. 

He quickly shut the window, not wanting to endure the stench he’d helped to create in the filthy walkway. Summer was around the corner, and with it, heat that would bake the stench into every stone. But for now, there was some relief in the small graces of cooler weather.

Boots on the cobble clicked and clacked loudly with the arrival of the two doctors. Law narrowed his eyes. Even with the scented flowers and herbs in his mask, he could still smell the rot that drenched the area—no, the entire city. There seemed nowhere this putrid air hadn’t settled, and with it, the sickness that gripped this country so tightly.

If only people were smart enough to realize it was all their own doing. It wasn’t like he or his companion hadn’t tried to warn the masses who stepped into their office covered in boils and looking like death. Everyone wanted to blame something else

All they could do was help to ease the suffering.

“It’s funny they still think it’s the rats,” Marco commented as he watched a fat black rat squeeze through a crack in the wall, scurrying across the road before standing on its back legs and watching them. Beedy eyes looked out for movement as a string of others emerged from the same hole.

“They are in part to blame; they carry fleas and germs with them.” Law shrugged his shoulders as he gripped the handle of his lantern tighter, casting light in front of them as they continued their journey.

Marco watched Law walk ahead. The doctor was somewhat of an imported good, fresh out of medical school and from Germany. He wanted to come to London to be in the heart of the pandemic, learn, and help as much as possible. His thick accent often raised the backs of those they visited until they realized how good he was at his job. 

You could tell he was foreign just by their difference in attire. Law’s coat was far grander than his humble robes. Yellow, a bright and beautiful color dotted around the skirt of his long coat, sits just above his big black boots down the front rows of gold buttons that glimmered in the lantern light. His half-mask was blacker than coal, and the beak looked sharp and deadly. 

Marco’s outfit was far less impressive; he thought to himself, aside from the collar of dark black feathers tinged with blues. His mask didn’t resemble the typical, traditional crow's beak. His garb simpler than the flashy coat of Law. The crest from his family was embroidered along the bottom, and he wore it with pride. Around his middle was a belt, bronze with some elements of gold, a gift from his father on one of his many trips overseas.

Law clicked his tongue against his teeth, irritated with each puddle he stepped in despite his best efforts to avoid them. How much was rainwater, and how much was other ? He didn’t want to dwell on it as Marco nudged him. Law averted his gaze from the floor and met Marco’s eye, brows raised in silent question. “This is it,” Marco said softly, looking at the worn-down wooden door.

“Why do you think we can help them?” Law asked as Marco knocked on the door loudly. “You said so yourself. You can help if it’s early enough, and this girl's family came to me when she just had the sniffles, worried it was going to be what someone in their church died of,” Marco explained, Law about to prompt more out of him but the door opened, a worried looking man, skim clammy and shining in the light.

“Doctors, thank the Lord you're here!” he said, moving out of the way and gesturing for them to enter the home. It was dimly lit, and the wood smelled rotten and stale. Each heavy boot-clad step caused the floor to cry out and moan under their weight as they took in their surroundings.

The poorer the area and its residents, the worse the plague tore through. Law heard coughs from upstairs, met Marco’s eye, and nodded toward the ladder. “Is the patient upstairs?” Marco asked.

“Yes, she is! Our Anna has been getting worse since I last spoke to you,” the man said, worried. His voice broke, and it was clear to Marco that he was barely holding it together. Law just replied in a firm nod and ascended the ladder, Marco in tow.

Law looked around the cramped attic space. A small candle was on her bedside, and the wax melted across the wood and dripped to the floor. A bucket was set next to the bed, and Law peered into it. Good, it seemed the vomiting stage hadn’t been reached yet. Marco dragged a chair along the floor as quietly as he could, setting it up next to the shaking child, the fever ravaging her frail body.

“Hey there,” Marco cooed, slipping off his black gloves before removing his mask. Thanks to his powers, he couldn’t get sick, and he found children responded better to a friendly face than a harrowing symbol of death looming over their bedside. “Feeling too hot?” he asked, and Anna nodded, mumbling to herself. “Here,” Marco smiled and laid his large hand on her forehead; the cooling effect of his healing flames brought Anna the relief she desperately needed. She sighed, eyes closing as she nuzzled into the doctor's hand.

Law watched the exchange; Marco’s bedside manner was unlike anything he’d seen. He was used to doctors having a far more clinical and professional manner about them where he was from, but he was thankful to Marco and his gifts. Marco often distracted them from what he was doing.

“Just focus on me, okay, sweetheart?” Marco whispered, using more cooling flames to try to comfort Anna and keep her occupied as Law knelt on the other side of her bed, pulling the covers down enough to examine her.

Marco glanced up at Law when a blue glow emanated from his side, the swirling ring of light Law held in the air before forming a bright orb around where he needed to check. “So?” Marco asked, trying to be as vague as possible, watching Anna slowly slip into a much-needed sleep, though her eyes flickered open when Law replied. “I can do this, yes.”

“He sounds funny…” Anna mumbled. Law huffed as he retrieved a scalpel from his bag, “That’s because Law is all the way from another place in the world; he came here to help you.” Marco said, trying to pull his attention from what the other doctor was doing.

Law’s power was incredible, and he didn’t think he would ever get used to how he just opened up someone and cut out the issue—going right for where the start of the infection was brewing by the flea bite, the virus trying to infect the body through the lymphatic system.

Anna let out a cry; with Law’s power came pain. Marco winced, seeing tears prick the girl's eyes as she whimpered; Law wouldn’t be done for a while. The room was soon consumed in bright blue as wings sprouted from his back. Flames of glimmering gold and teals danced in the dark room, and the girl stared wide-eyed at him. Marco smiled down at her, letting his healing powers help soothe her aching muscles and sore body, allowing his powers to take her pain away. 

“Are you an angel?” she asked, her voice full of wonder. 

“If that’s what you want to call me, yes.” Marco nodded, giving Law a look when he heard a snort. It’ll be over soon; just close your eyes.” Anna nodded, falling deeper and deeper into the incredible, calm feeling Marco provided until Law finished his surgery. 

The room went dark, save for the flickering candle at her bedside. Law silently disposed of what he’d removed, packing up his things. “Alright, let's go.” Marco, fully human now, nodded, waving goodbye to the sleeping girl as they climbed back down the ladder.

“She’ll feel better soon,” Marco told the father as Law stepped out the door. He was keen on getting to the next house, but he didn’t like small talk, didn't like drawing attention to himself or his out-of-place accent. The man thanked them both, thankful tears running down his face, leaving lines across his soot-covered skin. 

“I wish every case were like this,” Marco signed thoughtfully, and Law nodded, glancing at the door across the street, a big red X painted on it. Not everyone was reached in time, and not every ‘doctor’ had their healing powers to save lives. But if he could help at least one person, that was enough to appease the ache in his soul.

Law felt a hand on his back, a firm pat of reassurance from Marco. “We still have much to do tonight, Herr Doktor,” Marco playfully teased his companion, seeing how Law narrowed his eyes and grumbled into the mask he attached firmly to his face.

The night was coming to a close; the light hue of the sun rising in the distance lit the way back to their temporary lodgings. Neither man spoke as they clamored up the stairs, heavy footfall on old wood. Marco unlocked the door and removed his mask, feeling a weight lifted. Law followed his lead, hanging the mask from a hook on the wall, sighing as he set the lantern on the desk, dropping his bag on the floor. Marco was sitting on a chair to remove his boots, undoing his garish belt.

“So, why are you here?” he asked, and Law paused mid-task, unbuttoning his coat enough to shimmy out of it. “Is it important?” Law replied. Marco felt his lips pull into a lazy smirk; Law was good with his diplomatic responses—enough to be vague yet polite enough.

Marco leaned back in his seat, in his simple clothes, his uniform folded on the floor as he stretched out his legs. “I guess not, but a man has to wonder why a German came to the heart of the plague,” Law chuckled, though it held no warmth nor amusement, Marco noted. 

Law hung up his coat before sitting at his desk, grabbing a notebook, and flipping through his older notes. “You’ve been through something like this before, haven’t you?” Marco pushed, seeing how Law stopped what he was doing, his hand gripping the page of his book until it creased in his grasp. “I-”

He itched the side of his face, rubbing the goatee in thought, trying to proceed cautiously. It was enough that Marco knew he had power, something they both shared and the evidence to sink one another if either got chatty about said gifts. He drummed his fingers on the desk over and over before he shot Marco a look over his shoulder. “What I went through was worse.

Marco leaned forward in his seat, taking in everything Law said. His hands clasped together as he waited; he didn’t want to speak up now, to do anything that could prevent the introverted foreigner from spilling something from his past. “I didn’t have my powers back then. I— we lost everyone to that disease, and I can’t sit by and watch that happen again.”

And there it was. Marco nodded, watching the turmoil wash over Law’s face as he spoke. Deep hurt and loss were brimming in his eyes as he looked up from his notes. “What about you? Your family’s alive and well in another country, correct?”

“Yes, they are, well, for the most part. We tend to scatter ourselves to the winds and go where we are needed, and I’m needed here.” Marco shrugged and stood up, bringing his chair closer to sit with Law, tucking himself under the desk and picking up his book. “I want to help as much as possible, power or not. I am a doctor.” He said with a grin splitting across his face; he dug into one of the drawers and retrieved the inkwell and two pens. 

“Together, we can do this, save people, and resolve the guilt you are carrying.” Marco placed a reassuring hand on Law’s shoulder, squeezing. Law sighed and gave him a tired look. But if anyone could do it to save as many people as possible from being sent to the Kingdom of heaven, it would be those with whom the devil had shared his gifts.