drtrafalgar:

A frown appears on the snail’s face. This entire phone call consisted of shit he didn’t want to hear and it was progressively getting worse. She had already done a number on his life — was she intent on creating a bigger dent? A low sigh escapes, coming out like a hiss into the receiver.

“You are sailing all the way to Drum Island to give birth? That is weeks worth of travel. What’s so important there that you’re going back to the first half of the Grand Line? Is this your way of telling me you don’t want me there?”

Charting a course so far back would require planning in advance. With only six months left, that planning would need to start soon. It went beyond inconvenient — it was illogical.  

"And my ship is not just ‘any’ pirate ship. You honestly think that I would allow the sub to stay under-equipped to handle a pregnant woman and a baby? I would change it to suit your needs. I’ve learned —.”

Law stops himself there, lest the conversation take a turn to revisit the night she left him. It wasn’t worth irritating that wound at this time. “I don’t understand how you can say to me ‘don’t worry about it’, as if your medical care and overall well-being is none of my concern. Unless you were planning to … cease being pregnant, but considering you’re already planning to travel halfway around the worth for its birth, I think it’s fair to say that yes, it is fair for me to have concerns.”

         That conversation wasn’t going as planned and Monet was starting to rapidly get exhausted and annoyed. Yes, it was fair for Law to voice his concerns but she honestly didn’t have the patience to bear with them. Not this time.

— ❝ I am not one to beat around the bush. If I didn’t want you there I would tell you directly. I’ve called you because I want you to be there, and also to be a part of the baby’s life.❞ 

         Why couldn’t he understand? She could have chose not to call him and she wouldn’t be dealing with all that now. Didn’t he know that Drum had the best doctors in the world? She rubbed her her hand over her face. Her patience was running thin with all that.

Monet had thought about that, to cease being pregnant, but she had quickly discarded the option. She wasn’t able to have an abortion.

A tired sigh eluded her. The mere mention of the sub made her nauseous, and she wanted to finish the call. 

— ❝ What I mean with ‘don’t worry’ is that I’ve already planned it all and I am not expecting you to do anything, Law. I will call you weekly and keep you informed, and if something happens you’ll be the first one to know. If you want to know, of course.❞ 

                   But that was all. There was a pause in which she tried to forget about the nausea, and her eyes fell upon one of Barto’s crewmates. The one that was supposed to tell her when they were docked. 

Another sigh escaped her as she gestured the crewmate to hold on a second.

— ❝ I have to leave now, we are docked and I need a few things from town. I’ll call you in a few days, I promise.❞ 

                       And with that she finished the call.