Chapter Text
The Fetch; a role typically filled by a male member of the coven, who is responsible for summoning the other coven members to gather for meeting and ritual.
September rain tapped the window above the mattress, drops falling through the cracks and onto your face. A chirpy alarm tone screamed at you from across the room. You groaned, loathe to have thrown your phone after the first couple of times the alarm went off.
Just another thing to regret.
Sighing, you crawled off the mattress and across the sticky floor. You couldn't remember if it was beer or bong water or vomit gluing skin to linoleum. It'd get cleaned, eventually- as soon as the landlord felt like fixing the water. 'This week, I swear and don't you let me forget!' Miss M. C. told you on Monday. Now, it's Saturday morning and if you don't leave soon then you're going to be late for work.
The alarm shut off beneath your thumb and the pattering of rainfall filled the room again. You sat there with your back against the wall for a bit, not wanting to start the day or any other day after it. This is what you deserved and it was all wrong.
At least there was bud. And you perked up a bit, enough to get off the floor and clean yourself with baby wipes, change clothes, and hit the bowl. There was enough dry shampoo in your hair by this point that it was too heavy and unwieldy to tie back. So you brushed it out with your fingers and stuffed a beanie on.
Hopefully a bit of makeup and a tight shirt over a short black sundress and docs will hide the clear lack of a shower. If not then one too many sprays of perfume should scare people off so they don't stick around long enough to ask too many questions.
God. You really are stupid. Why would anyone care enough to ask some grubby girl behind the smoke shop counter about her life anyways?
-
Squinting at the sign hanging between black iron bars in the shop window; you resolutely decided the only thing that matters is doing your crummy little job on the bad side of town, and pulled down the metal ball-string. The light on the sign clicked, switching from "CLOSED- COME BACK LATER."
To "OPEN!"
Around this time last year, you were trying to remember how to parallel park in the only spot you could find on campus. You took your time since class was going to start in 10 minutes anyway, and if you didn't figure it out and get to the bathroom, then you were going to piss your pants.
The door bell immediately dinged as a line of regulars filed in for their kratom, chargers, cigarettes, and "incense burners" or whatever the code for crack pipe is supposed to be. You marched up to the counter, making small talk while ringing them up one by one when your boss shouted from behind a beaded curtain separating the shop from his office;
"Y/N! Show the new guy how to work the register!" Buggy yelled.
"Oh yeah, don't bother yourself with giving me a heads up or anything-" you mumbled, turning to look over your shoulder and suddenly going slack jaw and eyes widening.
For a moment you thought the young man standing behind you with tattooed skin and a crown of jet black hair beneath a big hat was Ace. But that was impossible. Ace is dead. And it's all your fault.
He didn’t seem fazed by your gawking, and exhaled through his nose, eyelids drooped and brow lowered. A smirk cracked his face as he slowly eyed you up and down. It was only fair, but you frowned anyway and rolled your eyes before turning away from him.
"Come on then," you stepped aside and waved your new coworker to the register. "This is your first time logging in so the system's gonna ask for your name."
His fingers are as tan and lithe as the rest of him, splayed out over the keyboard and easily covering it from end to end. You watched him type in the name 'Law,' and hit the enter key. You read the word 'DEATH' across his fingers, your icy frown melting into a grimace.
"Look like you've seen a ghost," he says between scanning barcodes and taking cash.
"It's nothin," you reply, happy to keep zoning out as Law takes to tendering money like a fish to water. Just thankful that most of the idiots who end up working here had bad luck instead of bad brains. Although you're pretty sure you’re here because you had both.
A buzz whirred from beneath the counter and checked your phone screen to read:
LUFFY: 🏠
LUFFY: BYOM
ZORO: BYOB...
He somehow found a group chat you hadn't left yet. Maybe he forgot. So, you unlock your phone and remove your user from the chat, hoping the notification gets lost in the confirmation messages now flooding in.
"What have I told you about using your phone on my time?!" In a whirl of beads rattling against each other, Buggy shoves out of the office, stomping up to you.
"I was turning it on silent!" You reply.
"Y/N was showing me a video on MushiTube. I'm a visual learner," Law says over you, which wasn't hard considering his height and the how smoky baritone of his voice filled the room like sage incense.
"Oh, is that so?" Buggy reaches over to snatch your phone from your hand before you turn away swiftly, pressing the phone to your chest screen-down. He grumbles and takes a step back, his eyes glued to your narrowed brow.
"Did mister boss forget how to use his own register? Don't you have something more important to do right now?" You tuck your phone back under the counter, hearing it continue to buzz.
Luckily, Buggy didn't hear it- he liked the sound of his own voice better- as he whined, "right! Yes, I do little Missy! And don't interrupt me again unless it's important!" He blabs while bumbling back into the office, beads chattering behind him.
You turn back around, the queue of customers waiting for papers, cigarettes, and detox kits still standing in a line long enough to go out the door. At least with Law's help you didn't have to deal with the sleazier customers. Most of them were fine really, just buying what they needed to go about their days like everyone else. And then there was Full Body. Entitled, short tempered, and always asking you what your plans were later at night.
"My dad's a cop you know. So no one will bother us and I got the hook up on the good stuff. I'm having a party later, you should come by!" He winked at you, despite the disinterested frown stapling your mouth shut tight. You'd rather face Luffy's gang than do whatever it is Full Body wanted to do with you.
"That sounds fun. Can I come too?" Law pipes up with a snarky smile.
Full Body stares at Law for a moment, before remembering he was the most important person in the room.
"Sure! More the merrier! Make sure to bring your own smoke!" Full Body replies. You cringe, and Buggy pokes his head out of the office again.
"Full Body, we've talked about this... don't brag about throwing ragers so loudly in my store!" Buggy hisses.
"Yeah, yeah. And whose going to do anything about it? The cops?" Full Body waves him off and, handing you his phone number before he heads for the exit. "Don’t lose it this time. Seeya then, Miss Y/N."
You shudder, crossing your arms and glaring at Law. Unphased, he takes the phone number from you and slips it in the pocket of his jeans without saying a word about it, and getting no argument from you either.
The rest of your shift passed by sluggishly. Even before everything fell apart, you never wanted to bare the weight of the day when they all felt the same- busy and bland. But every moment spent working in this smoke shop was a punishment. Reminded constantly through daydreams of what you could have done differently. You'd still be in college. The thought of running into old friends wouldn’t scare you. Ace's voice wouldn't be fading away in memory.
A glass bong slipped from your hand and a loud bang and crack reverberated off the counter top. An ugly, white scar now emblazoned on the bottom side of it.
"What was that?!?" Buggy scampered over to you, but Law cut him off in his path.
Your breath seized. Your paycheck didn't even cover your bills sometimes, and now this would come out of it. You glanced at the price sticker and winced, then startled as a hand flattened against your lower back. The warmth felt like it had been stolen from your insides as a chill creeped up your back and scattered in a hot breath.
"Hey, look at that. False alarm!" Law said cheerily in that same surly tone just over your head. He pulled his hand away from your back and you looked down to see the bong was clean and in perfect condition.
You must have been so scared that you were just seeing things, and sigh in relief.
-
The perfume had vanished and you could smell yourself by the end of your double shift. Leaving out of the back door, the last rays of sunlight were highlighting your car in the tiny back alley lot. No messages came from your landlord about the water being fixed, and you groaned at your phone screen.
"Hey," a voice muttered behind you.
You kept walking, swiftly moving to the car's side door, pressing the unlock button and trying the handle. It wouldn’t give. Frantically, you kept pressing the buttons and pulling to no avail.
"Hey!" A guy in dark, loose clothes and his hands in his pockets rushes up to you.
"Get the fuck away from me!" you spit out, looking at the door handle and realizing this isn't your car.
"Ok, bitch, I'll leave after you hand over your shit," one hand appears from beneath his hoodie brandishing a small knife.
"Fuck you! Go away!" You scream and run behind the car, hearing the rush of footsteps right on your tail. Darkness crept in around your vision and you didn't know where your car even was anymore.
"Ain't gonna hurt ya if I don't have to," he grabs your arm and pulls you into his body.
"Alright, that's enough," a familiar sounding man shouts.
You look up to see Law reaching out to your attacker. He yells and spins around, shoving the knife into Law's side. Without breaking his stare, Law grunts and clutches the attacker's shoulder. A dribble of blood leaks from the corner of Law's mouth as he grimaces, then smirks.
A fiery glimmer sparks in the black of Law's eye. A deep, dark pathway opening up between you two that pulls you off your feet as it sucks you in. The light of the moon shines so bright suddenly that it blinds you. Hot, coppery liquid splashes your face and chest.
Your vision clears and all that's left of the stranger's head is a red, pulpy mess. And Law is soaked in his blood, wiping it from his eyes. You look down at your own soaked clothes with a chilly realization before everything turns black.