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Zoro woke up with a low groan reverberating in his throat. His eyelids twitched, but remained too heavy to open up, his face feeling swollen and sticky. Pain. It radiated through his head, stuck behind his eye socket, pulled at his jaw and wandered down his spine in an agonizing hot cascade, that made him instinctively stay as still as possible.
There was noise, a lot of it, but his head hurt so much he couldn’t focus on it, not with the pounding heartbeat in his own ears. Breathing was difficult, more than it should be, even though he was laying on his front. Nose felt clogged, tongue thick and tasting familiar copper. Carefully it wandered over all the teeth. Bloody drool on dry lips, but luckily all 32 molars, canines and incisors were accounted for. It would suck to not be able to grip Wado right if he knocked one out. Wait, Wado…
As Zoro’s arms twitched towards his hip, where his trusty sword was supposed to rest, he quickly found that he couldn’t move them very far however. Just a few inches, a hefty weight at his wrists, holding them still on his back.
That prompted the swordsman to finally flutter open his eye in a short burst of panic. Not that it was working very well, the light made his head feel like it was about to burst his one good eyeball and his ears started to ring while he tried to clear his blurry vision. It looked like everything was vibrating in front of him, even though he felt the cool and undisturbed ground all along his front.
His eyelid fluttered close again. He wasn’t sure, but it kind of felt like he passed out. Couldn’t really tell because the noise around him and inside his head remained indistinguishable. But when he next opened his eye, there were two colored blobs in front of him, that looked vaguely familiar. First, of course, colored red and yellow, his strawhat-wearing captain and right next to it, the soft brown, topped by pink, that he instinctively identified as the crew’s doctor.
He blinked, squinted and this time it actually helped clear up the picture a bit, but his ears were still a lost cause for now. One of them was itchy as fuck, right beneath where most of the pain came from, so probably blood, and going by how he was feeling, he could only guess he’d somehow acquired a nasty headwound, but he couldn’t really remember how, or where. But, well… That was kinda typical for head injuries, right? And Chopper was here, so the swordsman decided not to worry about. Not when he needed to understand the here and now first, to get them out of whatever pinch it was, they got themselves into.
At least it looked like it was only the three of them, he could work with that. The rest of the room was busy with more, mostly dark-colored blobs, but no others huddled on the ground like they were, and none of the distinct color schemes his crewmates usually stuck with.
The fuzzy outline of their doctor was slowly crawling towards him, his high voice barely making it over the rest of the din. As he got closer, their predicament slowly got clearer for the downed swordsman.
Choppers tiny hoof-hands were tied up, a short chain linking them to the cuffs at his ankles. Thick, dark material, heavy looking, seastone no doubt. And Luffy was way worse off, if his limp form was anything to go by. Squinting his eye real hard, the swordsman could make out the thick bands wrapped around his captain’s torso and the solid chain embedded into the wall, stopping him from getting any closer. Fuck.
Meanwhile, Chopper had somehow reached his side and was fussing about his head to the best of his currently limited abilities.
Zoro actually winced at the touch, but moving his head even minutely made the pain so much worse, that he hissed loudly, and slurred out some words, that even he himself couldn’t make sense of. But somehow the little doctor got the message anyways and didn’t touch again. At least not right away.
It gave Zoro time to swallow. Not that there was much saliva, just a bit of bloody spittle to clear his airway and head with. The ringing in his ears was subsiding little by little, just enough for him to hear his own thoughts, as well as catch a few words of Chopper’s rambling.
A deep breath, his back hurt with the expansion of his chest, but that wasn’t so bad. Didn’t sting like an open wound, more akin to a pulled muscle or maybe some awkwardly broken ribs. “I’m fine Chop.” Zoro thought it sounded decently clear and internally patted himself on the shoulder, while his eye wandered the room, that was slowly, but surely, coming into focus. No sight of his swords though. Shit.
Chopper was obviously arguing with his reasoning, as usual, but at the moment he didn’t have enough energy to reassure his small crewmate. Instead, he just tried to suppress any further flinching and groaning while the doctor carefully palpated around what he came to realize was more than one gash at the side of his head and face. Great.
They were surrounded by people going about their day, a busy day if the speed of their steps was anything to go by, but well, he guessed any day you manage to capture pirates with their amount of bounty is a busy day.
He wanted to be insulted that they didn’t bother tying him down better, it was a big, open space after all, not even guards at the doors, just a lot of whoever these people were flocking around, not really bothering to watch them. But even the small, careful movement of rolling himself onto his side, to maybe get his knees under himself, had Zoro nearly throwing up and Chopper frantic in his attempt to hold him still. So yeah, he stayed down. Just a little longer. Maybe try to get a grip on his hearing and his memory first, before he tried to walk out of here. And, well, figure out how the fuck he’d break the seastone without his swords when his arms felt so numb, tied to his back.
Chopper wasn’t faring much better, it seemed, exhaustion weighing the devilfruit users down. Luffy. Luffy’s voice. Focus on that. That’s easy. You’d heed his word from the other side of the planet.
The strawhat captain was also slightly slurring, but his eyes were attentive, intense as he watched his crewmates. There were a few scratches on his face, knees skinned, missing a sandal. But other than that, he didn’t look half bad. Chopper as well. Ruffled fur, stains on his pants, but otherwise fine, which he also verbally confirmed in an angry voice: “Worry about yourself, idiot!”, when asked about it.
That meant, whoever these people were, they got the drop on them. An ambush, that had both the devilfruit users out of commission in an instant, and well Zoro… He tried to remember, was he attacked first? And why didn’t he notice the attackers? Or were his friends captured first and he was forced into compliance? He was still drawing a blank here, and Chopper’s worried eyes when he asked what happened weren’t good either.
“It’s alright Zoro. They had some kind of masking device, so Haki wouldn’t work on them. They got to you and had us in a net before we could do anything. You have a serious head injury, so it’s okay if you can’t remember anything for now. Just try to stay calm and still.”
His tone was that patented, soothing one he always used when a patient was freaking out and to be frank, THAT was freaking Zoro out. “Fuck, I asked that before?” He realized with a groan. Chopper just patted his shoulder, which, shit, also hurt quite badly, and nodded. “It’s going to be okay Zoro.” The little reindeer soothed again. The swordsman’s natural reaction was to nod, which, Jesus Christ, bad idea. Of course he wouldn’t admit it, but the noise that came out of his mouth sounded an awful lot like a whine.
Movement aborted; okay, shit, breathe. Swallow. Don’t vomit. “Feeling sick.” He groaned under his breath, eye squeezed shut tightly. Chopper just mumbled calmingly, but the words were getting lost in the ringing again.
Naturally the little doctor at his side worried. It was obvious his friend had a concussion. A bad one, ‘cause he’d seen Zoro fight and work through quite a few of them. He had a thick head, in more ways than one.
But unlike the swordsman himself, his crewmates had no difficulties recollecting what got them here. Sadly. Because honestly? Chopper could do without remembering the sound that pole made when it struck the side of Zoro’s head.
The attack came out of nowhere. The three of them had been wandering the island for hours at that point. It was a nice port town. Not very touristy, not a lot of merchants or travelers, but fishermen, cool rocky cliffs Luffy climbed up and down instead of walking on the path like a normal person, a fresh, salty breeze. The buildings around town were high, with lots of windows, lines of laundry and cables hanging between them in the narrow alleys.
They weren’t worried. Why should they be? The island didn’t have a marine base and while the folks weren’t exactly thrilled to have them here, no one had refused their business or been openly hostile until now, which did happen on occasion. Not everyone was fond of pirates after all, even though Chopper thought to himself, that they were the coolest, nicest pirates of them all! And sure, Luffy could be annoying and was rude sometimes, but in a funny way, right?
Also, he was with Luffy and Zoro! There was no safer place to be! They were the strongest! Luffy smelled trouble five miles against the wind, better than even Chopper’s own impeccable nose, well, usually he would then proceed to get into trouble on purpose, but at least you got a warning! And Zoro had instincts like nobody’s business. No one could sneak up on him, especially no one with malicious intent. Sure, the doctor only had a vague idea of how haki worked, but he knew enough to know the swordsman would feel an attack before it even happened.
Until now. Because now, he was staggering. A man had managed to hit him over the head. Hard. Bending the pole, he’d been hit with, hard. Without Zoro noticing beforehand.
Chopper shrieked, clinging to the captain’s leg in shock. Which was obviously a mistake, because seconds later they were ripped off their feet, enveloped in a metal net. Ohh no, not metal, seastone, considering their attempts to get up and out of the tangle soon had then back on the cobble, panting for breath, while Zoro was barley standing up, turned towards their attackers. He wasn’t given a chance to steady or draw his swords, pole coming down again. He wasn’t fast enough to dodge entirely, a second hit met somewhere near his neck or shoulder, the doctor couldn’t tell in the chaos.
Another pole hit him in the back, then the legs and again, same side of the head, his arms when he tried to reach for his blades and then the knee until he finally toppled. Chopper’s stomach turned at the realization that they weren’t stopping there. Luffy wiggled at his side, calling out for his first mate in what sounded scarily like desperation.
Every attempt the swordsman made to get up or even move, was punished by another blow to the head. Again and again, blood splattering the cobblestones, pouring down his neck and face, matting his hair chunky red and black.
At some point they were pulled away from the sight, but the noise remained while they were wrangled out of the net and into heavy cuffs. By the time they were done, their friend didn’t even twitch anymore, so thoroughly passed out that Chopper worried he was dead, face swelling and bruised. But for now the blood spluttering from his nose indicated breathing, so he decided to worry about a potential brain bleed or broken skull later.
They didn’t even bother to tie him up properly, someone just took his swords off him, grabbed his ankle and pulled him along, side and head dragging over the road, leaving a smear of blood for the first few meters. Zoro’s arms, flopping behind him lifelessly, fingers limp and trailing through the dirt didn’t exactly help him look less like corps. Chopper felt thick, ugly tears streak down his cheeks, but kept himself from sobbing, because Luffy’s eyes already told there would be hell to pay. It may look hopeless now, but they were the strawhats! They’d get out in no time at all, and then he'd look over Zoro’s head and everything would be fine…
That thought was still there, in the back of his head, now that Zoro was actually decently awake. But enough time and delirious half consciousness had passed to have the doctor seriously worried. For his crewmate as well as his own safety.
Luffy had tried. Of course he had. Wriggled and screamed and pulled as hard as he could, until he himself collapsed back into a boneless heap, but the chains wouldn’t budge. He even asked, what these people wanted, if it was something he could give them, if it was the bounty, the money, he bargained, then threatened when no response was offered, then screamed again, called for Zoro to wake up, again and again and again, and nearly dislocated something if the angry cracking sound his jaw made was anything to go by. But it was all useless in the end.
It was unfair, and frankly unrealistic to put it on Zoro’s shoulders to get them out of there. Chopper knew that, he certainly did, he couldn’t help but hope though. The swordsman always did crazy stuff that every medical professional would advise against. And the small strawhat doctor was sure that his own brain would be mush in his shattered skull had he taken the beating Zoro just did, but while the wounds were serious, and it was obvious that his brain was struggling, Zoro’s skull was miraculously intact as far as he could tell. And after the initial bleeding from the hits to the face, his nose, eyes, mouth and ears stayed clear, so possible brain bleed, but not a catastrophic one. Even his speech was understandable after the first couple attempts.
So, either Zoro worked his insanity and would somehow break the heavy, clunky cuffs encasing his wrists and then proceed to free them, or, more likely in Chopper’s opinion, the crew would come to their rescue.
Luffy, naturally, had infallible confidence in his people. And while angry and obviously worried, he seemed to be sure Zoro would get up any moment now and start beating the shit out of their captors, going from manically trying to free himself even though he would rip his own arms off before the chains would come out of the wall, to completely out of breath.
Until now, the three of them had been pretty much ignored by everyone around them. No one minded the screaming or the thrashing. But the clunk of a heavy iron pole broke the tranquility of their slowly recovering friend. “Shut up.” A cruel voice demanded, which of course, set Luffy off instead of actually getting him to shut up. Zoro winced at the noise and Chopper leaned over his shoulder protectively. Not that he could provide much cover, trapped in his smallest form. Which was quickly proven, when the reindeer-human was kicked back to Luffy’s side and the man stepped onto the swordsman’s spine with one foot, leaning his weight into it.
“Stop! What do you even want? Tell me and stop hurting him!” Luffy demanded once again. A short chuckle from the man, who was fit enough to compare to Zoro’s insane build, his arm bulging while he slammed that goddamn pole into the concrete floor. The sound, deafening for everyone, had Zoro moaning in pain.
“Actually, I don’t want anything from you. I’m just getting paid to fuck you up. Seriously fuck you up, take some pictures and then I get paid again when I’ll bring your heads to the nearest marine base. Though I’ll probably keep yours and make a little fur rug out of it, that probably sells for more than 100 Berries.” A chuckle towards Chopper, who bared his teeth, knowing it wasn’t going to be an impressive intimidation when he was so small and out of breath by the kick, tears clinging to his lashes, but still willing to try.
“Who would pay you for something like that?!” Luffy asked, voice seething. “None of your business.” – “Well, if this person wants me dead and pays someone else to do it, I think that’s my business! If anyone has a bone to pick with me, do it yourself and leave my crew out of it!” The captain argued back, face scarily serious for once. Chopper clutched the fabric of his pants, pressed to his side even though his eyes stayed fixed on Zoro, who’s attempts at struggling were miserable to watch.
“Oh your crew’s part of the deal actually, and don’t pretend you’d even remember if I told you my client’s name. I know you, Strawhat, we studied you and your people, that’s our job. You’re big on that whole “my crew is everything to me” shtick. The easiest way to get you to crack is take one of them and really hurt them, right? Like what Big Mom did when she took the little blondie and had him marry the three-eye?”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up, you dirty coward, face me like a man!” The captain predictably lost it, once again fighting his binds to the point of listing to the side, blood dripping down his back, skin an angry red where the chains were digging into flesh, ankles bleeding freely. Chopper sobbed softly, really feeling scared now.
“It doesn’t matter who I get along with you, big bad here is as good as any. However, I’m glad it’s not one of the weird ones. It’s easiest to work with normal human skin and blood and all that. As long as I’ll have you desperate and defeated for a few nice pictures I can do whatever the fuck I want.” To underline his point the man shifted his weight, grin splitting his face while he once more raised his pole and swung for Zoro’s head. Again.
Even though there was a choaked off scream coming from him, the swordsman somehow managed to stay conscious. Fresh red cascaded over his face, filling the angry grooves across the bridge of his nose and the scar bisecting his bad eye.
It was Zoro’s turn to smirk. “Fuck you. We’re not that easy to break. Especially not for some pisshead who’s too scared to come face to face with any of us.”
“Ohoho, listen to that, guys!” The maniac cheered, staring Luffy right in the eye. A bold move, usually his presence alone was enough to fell someone. Not this guy though, he simply bent down to grab a fistful of green hair. “You have no idea what’s coming your way, man.” Then he slammed him face first into the concrete. One time, and when Zoro continued wriggling in his grasp, a second time. That had his victim actually screaming, presumably because his nose broke and started gushing blood both down his front and back into his throat. Still fighting, so a third slam into the ground. Oddly reminiscent of their capture, there didn’t seem to be an end to the violence in sight until Zoro didn’t even twitch in the other man’s grasp.
When the swordsman next came to, his body felt like it was on fire. Sure, he had some grueling fights in his life. Real bad injuries, guts spilling out from between his fingers, pieces of muscle nearly flawed down to the bone, a lot of broken bones, dislocated shoulders, the whole nine yards. So he knew what actively dying felt like. This wasn’t quite it, but it was still up there.
His head hurt so fucking bad. The skin across his face pulled angrily, even his good eye was swollen to the point where he couldn’t open it all the way anymore, and blood was clogging his airway. He couldn’t tell how long, or how often he passed out. Vague recollections told him the question he should be asking was probably the latter. This didn’t just feel like being passed out for longer than he healthily should be and more as if his brain wasn’t working right anymore. But at this point everything just felt plain wrong.
The need for air, blood in his mouth and nose, coating the back of his throat and cracking on his skin as well as the adrenalin surge from the sheer pain had him lurching upwards. There wasn’t anywhere to go though. His arms, bound, he felt like he should’ve remembered that, weren’t able to support him, and there was more weight, a hand between his shoulder blades pushing down, so he crashed back to the ground with an inhuman sound of pain.
Fuck, fuck, his head, his face hurt so bad. Grasping for breath, hacking until enough of the blood was gone for him to breathe. Shit, his neck, oh god did it hurt, pulling all the way down his spine an up again. He couldn’t tell hot from cold anymore, it just burned.
The hand pushed him down harder and he howled when it went for the back of his neck instead, shattered nose squashed once more into concrete. There was another hand, next to his own flailing ones, at the small of his back, pushing down, down on his spine and one of his legs was trapped as well, caged where it was trying to thrash. The other one wasn’t able to go far either, tied together by… fuck. Those were his pants, by his knees. Well, that explained the weight and hands on his backside, the thing trapping his legs, a pair of strong thighs and bullying knees. And, ah yeah, there was the pain in his spine again, sharp, brutal pushing upwards, as much as radiating down from his head.
Not ready to accept his situation, even after beginning to grasp it, the swordsman continued to thrash to the best of his abilities, finally screaming and only stilling when a particularly brutal thrust of the other man’s hips left him shaking and weak, head spinning.
Fuck, fuck, he was forgetting something, right? Something important, focus, goddamn it, focus! It was hard though, focusing when your body was jostled like that, in pain and pinned, struggling to breathe. His eye was so blurry and his ears were filled by his own sounds of agony. Oh god, even his shoulder hurt so bad. Was it dislocated? He couldn’t tell, but it felt swollen too and someone, presumably the man currently busy raping him, had definitely jostled it while getting his coat out of the way. He could feel the fabric, tangled in his cuffs, bruised and spilt skin on display for his crew to see… Fuck! The crew! Luffy, Chopper!
Again, Zoro tried to focus his eye into working, but he could barely find the right shapes and colors of his mates, not enough to actually make out any expressions. But he could imagine, so he spat more blood, cleared his throat a few times and tried to swallow any sounds of pain along with it. He choaked a little on his first attempt at speech, cursed when he got his voice back. “Shit.. It’s alright, ‘m fine guys, d’nt worry. Dn’t havta look.” No idea how clear that came out, but Luffy’s angry scream was probably an indication that he’d made himself heard right?
Sadly the swordsman couldn’t filter any actual words from the voices around him, just the amused tone of the man leaning close to his ear, touching all the places where his body felt like it was splitting apart. Some more literally than others of course. Stay calm. Just stay calm, for the sake of his friends, just as much as for his own survival. Shock could kill him, right? He remembered Chopper soothing him, a much more gentle touch to his shoulder. Then a fist met the side of his head again and he couldn’t help himself when he tumbled back into the darkness.
He didn’t know what was happening. Zoro’s body reacted to the pain when he came awake, but it was exhausted and contained. Nowhere to move, no chance to get away. He had no control over his voice box, it was just too much, not enough air to actually scream but he could still tell he was making noise of some kind. The vibration made his throat hurt. His eye fluttered rapidly, trying to make sense of the world around him, the sensations of pain, hot at his back, cold at his front, sticky and itchy and hurting so goddamn much.
He couldn’t. Nothing made sense, it just hurt, so when he thought he saw Luffy’s familiar strawhat he couldn’t help but to cry out: “Luffy! Luffy, help me!”
There was so much noise. His head felt like it would explode, but he still couldn’t understand… More pain in his face, sharp and distracting and brutal enough to have tears sting in his eye. Fuck, did he just get slapped? Why and by whom, and why on earth did it hurt so fucking much to get slapped?! Right, right his face was beat to hell, he could feel the swelling, the pounding of his own blood beneath the stretched skin.
He vaguely identified his name being called, but not much else was getting through to the swordsman. Luffy. Right, Luffy was there, he could help, right? But he wasn’t coming any closer. “What…” Be blinked again, tried to focus, but the jostling was too much, the pain and weight on his back overbearing. Shit, he could feel blood between his thighs. It felt like he should remember what was going on, but he couldn’t he only knew that this man was really hurting him, and he couldn’t move enough to do anything about it.
“What’s happening… Luffy, please, I don’t…” Fingers, in his hair, ripping strands where the blood was clumping it together and then pressure where most of the pain was radiating from. Zoro screamed. He couldn’t remember the last time he screamed like that. But well, he couldn’t really remember anything so… He just screamed, screamed until he couldn’t because he was throwing up, or maybe just regurgitating more blood, he couldn’t tell, he couldn’t think, he was just trying to fucking breathe, alright?!
Angling his head so he could maybe stop choaking hurt so bad, so bad, and he didn’t understand what was happening.
The swordsman wouldn’t say he welcomed the darkness encroaching on his already fucked up vision, that sounded too much like giving up and he didn’t do that, but he didn’t exactly mind either. It was just too much. Too much pain, too much pressure, too much noise… He was sure he heard Luffy and Chopper, so it was fine to pass out, right?
In the end it wasn’t like he had much of a choice, body once again falling limp. Chopper had lost count on how many times that was now. He was usually better than that, impeccable really, about keeping track of neurological symptoms in his patients, but between his own weeping eyes, sobbing and shaking it was hard.
The little doctor cowered. In the aftermath he felt guilty about that. Unlike their captain he wasn’t tied in place, he should’ve at least tried to help Zoro, even if it killed him, but he couldn’t, literally frozen in place like a deer in headlights. Next to him Luffy was losing it. Actually fucking losing it. Foaming at the mouth, spitting mad, slamming his own head into the wall crazy. With real blood running down his face too, thanks to the lack of his powers, as if Zoro didn’t have enough headwounds to traumatize a whole ER Team…
Chopper wasn’t sure if Zoro was breathing. It was hard to tell with the other man jostling his body back and forth like that. Oh god… The doctor still couldn’t quite believe it. But well, their captor had delivered on his promise. He found a way to destroy them. Actually fucking destroy them, in such a short amount of time too, because this was Zoro. The strongest man Chopper knew, helpless and weak, dying, or maybe God forbid dead already, being raped, just to get a rise out of Luffy.
As if it wasn’t super easy to wind the young captain up. Just touch something on his freaking plate or sit in his seat! Don’t rape his fucking first mate!!!
But against the odds Zoro’s eye twitched. It didn’t quite open, but it moved beneath the lid. Not dead yet then. But Luffy was definitely too busy to notice that. And even after the gray eye opened, the swordsman didn’t look all the way there anymore. He wasn’t producing much noise either, just laborious breathing and moaning in a low voice whenever he was pushed particularly hard.
Well, either he was dissociating, which good, he didn’t need to be all there and start panicking again, or he was dying because his brain was bleeding out of his nose. Too much blood in his face to tell from afar by now. It didn’t really matter though, either way, none of them could take much more of this.
And then it was over. An ungodly snap rang through the room.
The man started screaming. Not like Zoro when he was first downed, not even like Zoro when he was in so much pain he threw up and passed out, but screaming like a pig being butchered without being shot in the head first.
More cracking and the rest of the people in the room started rapidly dropping. Oh god, yes, finally… “Robin!!!!” Luffy’s shout shook the walls, even overpowering the noise that man made. Still made. He wasn’t granted a quick death. Oh no, not when Robin was made witness of his wrongdoings. Instead their captor dropped, squealing continuously, high-pitched and writhing around bones that looked so entirely wrong that even the doctor struggled to identify them. Then the screaming cut off, replaced by choaking and what he presumed the sound someone with a crushed windpipe made.
The disembodied arms of their comrade puffed into delicate white petals, as they always did, but the man, pants around his knees continued to shudder in agony. Good. As a doctor Chopper obviously didn’t wish harm on anyone, but this man didn’t deserve to die with any of his dignity intact.
Zoro remained unmoving. Unsurprisingly. But he was breathing and his eye opened occasionally.
Nami’s voice called back to them: “We’re coming, hang on!” But before anyone could enter Robin gestured for the redhead to wait. “Wait here.”
“Robin, what the fuck?! What’s wrong, I got the keys and I thought you cleared the way??” Confusion and agitation, slightly out of breath. Surely the rest of the crew had been scrambling to save them the second they realized they were gone.
“Trust me. You don’t want to see. I got this.” The older woman reassured calmy and closed the door behind herself.
Chopper finally stumbled to his feet. Luckily Robin, always the levelheaded one, took care of his cuffs first and handed him the key for Zoro’s set, then she made her way to the captain. She only untied him after he’d calmed down a bit. “You have to be careful sencho, or you’ll hurt him more.” She reprimanded again as Luffy attempted to sprint the short distance towards his downed first mate.
The usual apology of: “wari, wari”, sounded shaky and weak, but he did slow down and didn’t immediately try to touch. Instead he settled by the doctor’s side and simply watched as Zoro’s face twitched.
Chopper was delicate in his attempts to get a grasp on the extent of the injuries. Luckily the swordsman remained uncharacteristically placid. Good, because he wasn’t actively making himself worse, but also, obviously bad. On the other hand, very worrying: Zoro didn’t just stay still while he did his doctoring.
His wrists were raw where the manacles had dug into his skin, one of them was swollen, broken or a bad sprain from the beating, but that, much like the other contusions on his torso, was irrelevant for now.
First was his neck, careful palpitations along his spine. Swelling, a nasty bruise, but none of the vertebra fell out of alignment. Good. Next up was the skull. The skin was burst open in a few places, mostly the left side of the head, just above the ear, but there was also a sizable gash more towards the back of the skull. Another wound at the temple, or perhaps at the brow, was hard to say with the swelling and the blood. The broken nose, of course, but while painful, definitely minor. Check for fractures first.
Surprisingly nothing was dented inwards, nothing was pressing on the brain, at least not to a visible degree. He’d certainly check with the x-ray back on the Sunny, but for now a good sign. The brain also wasn’t swelling to the point of pushing bone shards outwards. Which, Jesus Christ, was he grateful for that, because while Dr. Kureah and him had gone over such pressing brain swelling in theory, she’d also told him to basically forget about a patient that bad and just make them comfortable. Which no. Not happening. Not to any of his patients, but sure as hell not to Zoro.
Deep breath. Focus. Don’t overthink, don’t spiral. Triage. Worst case, already off the table.
At that realization the little doctor found his voice again and began with a soothing murmur, explaining along with his hands moving what was going on in the simplest, most disarming words he could think of. It didn’t matter if Zoro was listening or not. It didn’t matter if he could understand; if he could, good, getting him to stay calm was important, if he couldn’t; well, knowing Chopper was at his side hopefully had a calming effect anyways. And if his patient wasn’t cognizant enough to recognize him either, that was okay too, because the soothing tone would at least engage any brain activity that was there.
It was a mess. The wounds kept on bleeding. The splatters painting the concrete, pooling where Zoro’s face was resting and all the way down his throat. Of course he’d seen worse blood-loss with this man. It was still ample to be a concern. Robin, coming to the same conclusion, quickly handed him his bag, along with another packet of fresh gauze.
Putting pressure on was obviously out of the question, so instead the doctor settled for slowly dabbing and soaking a bit of blood up, at least enough so he could get a good look. At first glance… the bone seemed more or less intact. He was sure underneath were at least some hairline fractures, but that was manageable. So getting Zoro somewhat conscious, just to make sure he wasn’t massively hemorrhaging into his head was next on the list.
While he tried to clean up some of his patient’s face and placed the first temporary bandages Robin shuffled closer to his side. Luffy remained inert, frozen like a statue. Shock, probably. Bad, but also good, because he wasn’t disturbing Chopper’s work for once.
“Can we move him, doctor-san? Just a little?” Of course Chopper instantly wanted to argue against that, even though he checked for spinal cord injuries, but at second thought… He met her eyes, wandering down to… The mess between Zoro’s legs and his pants, still tangled around his knees. Chopper had taken the mangled coat off, along with the cuffs it’d been wrapped in. The haramaki sat where it always did, snug around the swordsman’s waist, but.. there wasn’t much dignity in his position, was there?
So, he nodded somberly. “Okay.” Carefully the doctor guided her hands to take over for a second, holding gauze and wiping with featherlight pressure where blood was still bubbling. Chopper shuffled down, wet wipe in his hands, and took a quick look.
Zoro’s legs actually twitched at the touch, trying to close but falling short, one muscle in his thigh visibly trembling. The young boy swallowed his nausea and did his job with a pinched expression.
Considering everything else… it wasn’t bad. Just a small tear, wouldn’t even need stitches. And still… It was one of the most horrible injuries he’d seen in his career. Because he’d been there when it happened. He’d seen this man… He was dead now. Stopped twitching a while ago, laying to the side of the group huddled on the ground, ignored and finally forgotten.
That man had thought this was fun.
He’d enjoyed hitting a man who was down already and forced himself on their swordsman. He’d delighted in the fight Zoro put up, and he loved beating it out of him again and again. He didn’t even have mercy when the fighter beneath him was reduced to animal screams, panic and tears. He didn’t care that the person he was having sex with was choaking on his own blood, vomiting from the sheer pain and finally confused to the point of asking what was happening. Someone who was capable of that amount of violence and cruelty scared Chopper. Because, sure, he’d been paid to do this, but he also looked like he would do this to people who weren’t criminals with bounties. He just enjoyed it too much…
Once again Chopper was glad for Robin’s clean work. That man would never touch another soul. Wouldn’t hit and laugh and rape… Jesus, get it together Chopper.
So, after a quick wipe and checking everything down there out he nodded towards the archeologist and they swapped places again. “We can move him. Just carefully, as little motion as possible onto his side so he’s stable. Hopefully he’ll be able to breathe better then.” On commando a dozen arms sprouted from the ground around them. With Robin it was child’s play to ease the heavy swordsman into a recovery position, and conveniently on pair of hands pulled Zoro’s pants back up his hips, just as Chopper had expected.
The new position also made it a lot easier to check over his patient’s face. It wasn’t pretty, that much was obvious, but surprisingly the lone dark gray eye met his without much difficulty.
The swelling made it hard to open clearly, and the concussion made it even harder for him to focus on anything, but he was in there and at least somewhat recognized the doctor in front of him if the lack of panic was anything to go by. So, Chopper kept up his soft babble simultaneously to his work.
The other ear looked clean and while there were some popped blood vessels in the eye it wasn’t bleeding. Teeth were all fine, split lip wasn’t something to worry about for now. Speech was slurred, badly, but he was at least somewhat understanding what Chopper was saying, pupil following along his hooves, at least for a few seconds before squinting closed again.
So, after determining that his patient was as stable as he was going to get, more temporary bandages were put in place and Zoro was slowly pulled upwards by a number of arms and Choppers thick, furry biceps to be carried home.
The doctor was interrupted though, a strong hand grasping his wrist to the point of pain. He didn’t get a chance to protest. “Let me.” Luffy’s voice was still serious enough to be scary. It made Zoro wince, so Chopper was about to push the captain off, but then he met the strawhat’s eyes. Luffy looked like… He looked like he’d just seen someone die, like his world was falling apart in front of him and then: “Please Chopper. Please. You have to let me carry Zoro home. Please.”
He didn’t know if he’d ever heard his captain say please, let alone plea like this. So he pulled back with only a little hesitation and helped Robin support Zoro until he was securely in Luffy’s arms. His head, cushioned by bandages and gauze that were already turning dark in spots, was carefully placed on their captain’s shoulder, heavy body in arms that looked too thin for the job but didn’t waver under the weight. Of course they knew how strong Luffy was. It was just easy to forget until you saw him carry something that looked way too heavy for his slim frame to lift. But he stood up smoothly, following instructions to minimize the jostling.
Still Zoro groaned, skin going pallid. The swordsman panted, eye squeezed shut tightly, arms limp. After only a few steps he opened his mouth and started mumbling frantically. Even walking right next to the pair, they couldn’t really understand, fragments of what was probably supposed to be Luffy’s name and nothing that made much sense tumbling from bloody lips. His face going slightly gray though, was all the warning Chopper needed.
“Luffy, put him down, he’s going to vomit.” He tried, but the captain ignored him, just walked steadily towards the door Nami was waiting behind. “Luffy!” Chopper swore at him, a quiet hiss, so Zoro’s headache wouldn’t get worse, but pressing nonetheless. The captain just nodded slightly. “We need to get Zoro home quickly, right? We don’t have time to stop.”
Before they could argue any further, it happened. Thin, stringy saliva, brown blood and yellow bile dripping all the way down Luffy’s back. Even the doctor cringed at the breathless retching, but the captain just kept his even pace. Zoro continued slurring after and sounded apologetic, even if he didn’t manage to string together a coherent sentence. Luffy just held him. “I don’t mind.” He reassured.
He stepped out, more or less ignoring Nami’s shocked expression when they met up with her. He just talked, so so softly, to all of them, but primarily to the man in his arms. “It’s alright. Everything’s good. Just a little blood. We just got to go home and Chopper will fix everything. S’alright Zoro, breathe.”
And Zoro did. Of course he did. This was his captain. So everything would be just fine. He was in pain now, but they’d fix it.
Zoro continued to pant, Luffy occasionally wiping his nose for him, because yeah, naturally he could carry his first mate with just one arm beneath his butt as if he weighed as much as a toddler.
One by one they met up with the rest of the crew, who joined the protective huddle around their captain and his precious cargo. Worried glances and whispers were exchanged at the sight, but Luffy was so calm. He had it handled.
Then they finally made it back to the Sunny. A chain of Robin’s arms lowered a gurney and the doctor helped lower Zoro into it. By now Luffy was just as coated in grime as their swordsman, but he really didn’t seem to mind, even though most people that weren’t doctors reacted a certain way to seeing another human puke.
After that Chopper didn’t have any more time to think about anything but medical necessities. For hours he was looking at headwounds and x-rays and monitoring every twitch of his patient’s fingers.
It was bad, obviously. He hadn’t seen Zoro like that in a long time. But miraculously the swordsman was actually fine. Minor fractures, flesh wounds he could stitch up and glue together, a nose he could set, a wrist he could splint, bruises he could ice. No brain bleeds. At least none big enough to show up on his images and mild enough that Zoro was decently conscious and responsive within a few hours.
It felt mean to wake him in such short intervals when he looked like he needed his sleep desperately, but that was the joy of head injuries.
When Chopper delivered the good news to the crew, one face was suspiciously absent. Sanji winced at the mention of Luffy and gestured towards the prow. Ah, sitting on Sunny’s head, of course, he should’ve thought of that, but when he set off the cook held him back with a weary expression. “You should leave him alone for now. He needs some time.”
The captain hadn’t even bothered to change. He just sat there, staring out at the sea. Today she was indeed a cruel mistress. Stupidly Luffy had thought the world had already thrown everything at him. There wasn’t anyone or anything he couldn’t beat, not after all those warlords, after their two years of separation, after Ace and Big Mom and Kaido… But here he was.
Zoro had been… He’d been asking for his help. Pleading. And he hadn’t been able to move a muscle. He’d just sat there and watched. Watched his friend’s pain, his humiliation, his surrender. There was nothing honorable about it either, like when he’d been felled by Mihawk or nearly died, fighting alongside his crew, on Thriller Bark. And Luffy had been useless. Clumsy and childish and helpless, Marineford all over again.
Zoro was the backbone of this crew. Everyone knew, even Luffy who didn’t bother with crew-politics and whatever else his crew decided to argue about. He was the first mate. The first one Luffy picked. The protector, the best swordsman in the world, the strongest. His best friend.
How on earth would Zoro be able to look him in the eye after he’d been let down like that? He wasn’t able to save him the one time he asked for it. The one time he needed help…
Luffy was devastated. Like back when Jinbe had to remind him of what he still had in life, even though his world felt shattered, his heart burst wide open along with that of his brother, unable to beat…
For the first time in forever his dream felt unattainable. How could he ever be king of the pirates after he singlehandedly amputated one of his own wings, when he sat there, unable to do anything but watch and scream and cry, like a pathetic little child that wanted to play at being a pirate and got beaten for it?
What now? He didn’t know. For the first time in years, he didn’t know.
They crew gave him a wide berth. Good, they shouldn’t have to watch his shame.
He couldn’t remember how long he sat there, just watching as the waves lapped gently at the hull. Until it was too dark to see them down there.
The moon reflected on the ocean beautifully, out there in the distance. The port was quiet. They hadn’t bothered to set out yet. The Log still needed time and everyone who’d been after them was dead. Robin made sure of that. Robin, reliable and fair, oh so fair, cruel where it was deemed necessary and quick when it was needed. He loved her for that.
And again, it was Jinbe that approached him, his heavy steps familiar by now, even though he was the newest addition to their home. His voice was deep and gentle, rumbling and friendly as always, but carried a serious tone that was unusual for him, nowadays. “Zoro-san is going to be fine.” His words felt like absolution and damnation at once, happiness and dread tumbling in his stomach, same as the clothes in a washing machine.
“You should come inside and eat. Take a shower. Everyone’s worried for you.” Luffy simply hummed in acknowledgement. The older man let him sit in silence for a little longer, then he said: “You won’t make your swordsman come out here in his state to tell you HE’s worried for YOU, right Luffy?”
At that the young captain shot a glare back over his shoulder, that would have a weaker man drop. How dare he insinuate he’d make Zoro do anything?!
Luffy swallowed when he realized his mistake and stopped growling at the patient fishman, who was actually making a very good point.
Cowed, for once, he did as told. Took a shower, yeah, he hated the water, but he didn’t feel like smelling blood and vomit any longer. His own injuries, most of them self-inflicted, weren’t bad enough to bother Chopper about, he just picked at scabs and towel-dried the scratches roughly when he was done.
Dressed in fresh clothes Sanji sat him down at the breakfast bar and served him leftovers. Which basically consisted of a five-course meal, considering two of the biggest eaters were missing from the table when the rest of the crew ate…
After the food, which he thanked Sanji for, though not as enthusiastically as he would on any other day, he went straight to bed.
Curled onto his side he pulled the blanket over his head. No one else was in the dorm yet, too early for sleep really, so he buried his face in his pillow and let the tears flow.
In the morning the Log was set, so everyone was busy compensation for Zoro’s and Chopper’s work when they cast off.
The atmosphere was tense and Luffy remained quiet. Usually his happiness was infectious. It turned out his silence was too.
When they were once again smoothly sailing along, the weather still steady from the island they just left, the crew tended towards their daily chores.
Sanji was hidden away, cleaning the pantry, making meal plans, prep-work, counting stocks. Anything to be out of sight. He didn’t do well with emotional pressure, and at the moment the atmosphere aboard the Sunny was thick with it. Suffocating.
Robin, dutiful as always, was doing laundry. Baskets of clothes and linen, stacks of bandages. A clean slate, soft comfort. A thoughtful gesture, as expected from the wise woman.
Nami kept a close eye on the sea, wind ruffling her hair. The usual joy of navigating was absent from her face though, expression dark and pensive. Jinbe offered her a smile whenever she called instructions down to the helm, trying to be reassuring when most of the crew had never seen Luffy so down.
The captain had forgone his seat atop the figurehead and instead chose to take residence on the roof of the crow’s-nest. High above all their heads, out of range from their worried glances, but also the perfect spot for keeping an eye on everything. Internally he hoped for any kind of danger in the distance, just so he could punch something and make sure his crew was actually safe this time…
Meanwhile Brook had been briefed on what to look out for at Zoro’s bedside. What constituted as normal, how often to wake the swordsman and what symptoms would warrant waking Chopper from his nap, because lord knows, he hadn’t spent the night resting.
Franky and Usopp had taken up a more removed job to support the young doctor, both not really able to stomach staring at Zoro’s face when he was in such bad shape. Instead they’d taken up cleaning duty, sterilizing instruments and machinery, counting stock.
In a way the quiet was peaceful, but also disturbing, similar to the silence after a storm. Everyone glad knowing it was over, but dealing with the destruction left behind.
Zoro needed to be woken up regularly, just to make sure he wasn’t getting any worse and he accepted with little grumbling, falling back asleep as soon as the skeleton let him be. The blinds of the infirmary had been shut, the light obviously still bothered their swordsman and he had continued throwing up an impressive number of times, being bullied into drinking lots and hooked up to an IV to fight off dehydration.
For once he didn’t fight their mothering. Too exhausted to try and get up just yet. Two more days were spent like that. Just the careful ministrations of Chopper, Brook and Robin, sips of water and broth provided by their cook, dark and quiet. Oh, and lots of sleep and painkillers of course. Even though Zoro argued in a hoarse voice that the pain wasn’t bad, the doctor pumped him full of the stuff, and the relieve it provided was obvious.
Then, on day three, when he could finally handle light stronger than the dim bedside lamp, Zoro, in typical fashion, released himself from their doctor’s care.
Chopper didn’t know if he should be delighted or furious. In the end he decided to let it go, because the bandages were still wrapped securely when he spotted his absconded patient and he’d actually taken the bottle of pills with him. He was even wearing the wrist-brace, hallelujah!
Also… One of the first places Zoro ventured to was the bathhouse. Sure, Chopper had done the best he could, cleaning him up after… that. But a sponge-bath could only do so much. He understood the need to feel clean, so he left the swordsman to his own devices.
Zoro looked better after. Less like he was stretched too thin. Well, his skin was still stretched, face quite swollen and frankly more bruised than not. Sanji compared him to a dropped peach, rotting and disgusting to look at. Zoro bared his teeth at him, a little wonky, because his left cheek wouldn’t move right and he didn’t feel like re-splitting his lip just yet. The cook offered him some mash anyways, the delicious one with spring onions and bonito flakes he loved and herbal tea. The steam made his face hurt a bit less, cleared his sinuses, so he could actually taste the buttery and creamy dish, so he let it slide. Just for now.
After another nap, finally back in his own cot, Zoro made an effort to be seen by everyone. A wordless reassurance, that he would be fine in no time.
He chatted with Jinbe, then pointed out some ripe mikan to their navigator on deck, before he wandered downstairs. In the workshop he asked Franky und Usopp for a new whetstone, his swords could use some love, and for once sitting down and tending the blades did sound better than lifting weights.
At the prow Robin sat in one of her lawn chairs, book in her lap, and Brook was stringing a soft tune on his violin. He gave both of them a short nod and glanced at their figurehead. Empty. No Luffy. The dark-haired archeologist sent him a knowing glance and pointed a third arm upwards. The thought of climbing all the rungs up to the crow’s-nest still made him slightly nauseas though, so Zoro decided on another nap first and didn’t mind when a furry little creature joined him in his cot.
The cook fed him more soft, nutritious food that was easy on his face and digestion. Of course he didn’t voice it, but he was grateful nonetheless. Neither of them felt the need to say anything, but they understood each other without words. That’s just how they were.
The brace was staring to annoy him after a few days. His ass still hurt, his head pounded and on occasion felt full of cotton to the point of overflowing. He was reminded of a stuffed animal, chewed up by some feral beast. Fuck, what a miserable thing he was.
Luffy was avoiding him like the plague.
Sure, everyone was trying not to bother him when he needed his rest and you know, just more quiet than the Sunny usually harbored. But Luffy?
That stung. It was known across the globe that their captain didn’t understand boundaries. He thought it was normal to cling onto strangers and climbed his crew like his animal namesake. He screamed, ran around and annoyed everyone at least every five minutes. But now? Zoro had barely seen a hair of his in what was coming close to a week now. Not even at meals.
And, well, after the last impression he made, he understood. The swordsman only remembered fragments of his way home, but it was enough to be utterly humiliated.
He knew he cried, drooled and spit on his captain’s shoulder, had to be carried in his arms like a little baby. Luffy had seen and heard EVERYTHING. He couldn’t even remember what embarrassing shit came out of his mouth that day, for god’s sake!
So, yeah, he understood why Luffy acted like he’d give him some infectious disease if he so much as stepped into his sight.
It still sucked though. And not just for himself, but for the whole crew. Everyone was treading on eggshells, it felt tense, a muscle about to give. And shit, Zoro hated being the reason for that. The reason their happiness and passion was fading…
He was halfway up the mast when Nami noticed his clumsy climbing. Stupid brace. And now the witch was screaming her head off for him to get down. Great.
To be fair, he was feeling out of breath, his fingers hurt where they were gripping the rungs and his head was pounding, the swaying of the ship so much worse farther up. But he couldn’t back down.
Before he realized it a set of arms steadied him when he faltered. He was always surprised by the strength of the bodyless appendages Robin sprouted. Softly swearing under his breath he looked up. Fuck, that was far. Still too far for him, he wouldn’t make it up there. Okay, plan B.
“Luffy!!” He had no idea if he was loud enough to make himself heard. Screaming made his head pound, but the thought of being ignored by his captain hurt worse than anything, so he tried again. “Luffy Please! We need to talk! Please Captain!”
Somehow Nami was way louder than him: “Get down here! Right now! That’s enough, you hear me you moron! Get down!!” Then the familiar sound of steel toed dress shoes treading on air and strong arms around his middle.
Zoro surrendered to the humiliation of being carried down to the deck by the cook, simply because he couldn’t take everyone’s worried eyes anymore. Not because he was dizzy. No, not at all.
Back on the grass the swaying wasn’t as bad, he struggled to stay steady nonetheless. His sea-legs were really letting him down today.
Still, he shouted once more: “Luffy!” And finally, finally he was heard, the shadow of his captain sailing down from the top of the mast, landing agile and near silent like a cat.
The captain refused to meet his eye though, didn’t acknowledge his swordsman in any way and that broke Zoro.
The proud first mate dropped to his knees, bending his face to the ground in shame, pressing his forehead to the dewy grass. One hand by his head, the other couldn’t even bear his weight, pulled protectively towards his chest. Weak, so weak. Zoro grit his teeth, squeezed his eye closed so wouldn’t have to admit to himself that the moisture gathering at the corner of it could be tears. No. No, he couldn’t afford to cry anymore in front of his captain. Not now.
“Captain, please. Please Luffy, forgive me. For getting you and Chopper hurt, for shaming the crew like that, please just… It won’t happen again!”
Dead silence filled the deck, even the ocean was holding it’s breath. Nami had slapped her hands in front of her mouth to keep a shocked grasp in, while Chopper huddled at Usopp’s side, both trying to keep from crying. Sanji just looked sad, down at his rival… his friend, flaying himself open like that, at their feet.
Luffy grasped the top of his strawhat with unusual ferocity, knuckles going white, nails scratching the soft-worn material. Then he flung it away, careless of where the precious item went, uncovering his furious expression. His eyes were dark with turmoil and anger, a fire burning in the blackness of his pupils.
The captain grasped his kneeling subordinate’s collar and pulled him to his feet with strength that had the weakened man stumbling and the rest of the crew coming out of their frozen-still shock.
“Luffy!!” The redhead hissed, several of them moving closer before all hell broke loose.
The usually cheerful captain pulled his arm back and then his fist collided with his first mate’s face.
Zoro tripped, landed back on his knees with a grasp, crewmates flocking around him, supporting him and checking him for injuries within seconds, while the other half of them descended upon Luffy.
The captain let himself be pushed and restrained with little to no fight, until he raised his voice across the shouting. “Zoro!!!”
A wide gray eye flickered over the heads of his friends, meeting a pair of stormy black ones, fury radiating from his captain’s face like he’d only seen in those very rare life or death situations.
“Never, ever dare to do that again! Never! Do you hear me, Zoro?! Never ever! You told me you wouldn’t bow down to anyone when we first met!” Sanji tightened his grip around Luffy’s neck, hissing at him to calm down, but Zoro just nodded, feeling small, but still pulling himself back up to stand.
Finally, decisively the captain shook his crewmates. It was shockingly easy for him too, the group falling to their butts and knees. And while Luffy did get in Zoro’s face, he made no further move to attack, so they collectively came to the conclusion that their only choice was to let this play out. Whatever this was…
“I’m sorry.” Zoro repeated, voice low, but steady. “What for?” The strawhat simply retorted.
“For what happened. For being weak.” – “No. You don’t get to apologize for that.”
The swordsman looked devastated. Unsure. His gaze faltered, fingers fidgeting with the wrist-brace.
Then Luffy’s face fell as well, thick tears streaming down his pale cheeks. “I am the one that should apologize to Zoro.”
Confused the swordsman’s lone eye rose up again, searching his captain’s face. “Luffy, what..?” He didn’t get to finish his question, interrupted by Luffy’s sob.
“I’m the one that is ashamed. I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t save you, couldn’t help in any way that mattered. Why should Zoro… Why should any of you stay by my side now?”
The silence was once again pressing, a soft breeze ruffling their hair, gentle sun caressing skin of all colors. Zoro’s face felt numb.
“Zoro has nothing to be ashamed for. Zoro fought with everything he had. Every time. And I failed as captain, to step up when you needed me to. The One Time, YOU needed me to. And for that I am sorry, so very sorry. And I am even more sorry for making Zoro feel like he had to apologize to me. Like he should be ashamed. Zoro should never feel shame. I am so very proud of you.”
Tears glittered down cheeks, more than one pair, and Luffy finally buried his face in his hands, unable to face the judgment of his crew any longer.
Stunned into silence Zoro closed his eye. Took a few deep breaths. The Sunny had been home for years now. Perhaps the only home the swordsman ever knew, because the dojo… He didn’t know if he ever wanted to return, to many silences, unspoken words and expectations waiting for him. He’d never quite fit in there, did he? Especially after Kuina.
But the Sunny? The smell and the rocking of the sea, the polished wood, the scent of tar and linen, dewy grass, mikan trees and fresh coffee. That was home. He opened his eye. These people, all of the misfits and weirdos. They were home. He looked at Luffy. His first friend in… He couldn’t remember. There were only so very few he actually allowed to see behind his walls.
Luffy should never look so small. Sure, he was a skinny fuck when they first met, all gangly and out of proportion, even when he didn’t stretch. But he had presence. And especially not now, after everything they’d been through together. All the battles they’d won.
So, Zoro stepped aside, eye quickly finding what it was looking for.
His fingers were gentle when they picked at the familiar material. The straw was a little coarse, but worn in a comfortable way by all the hands that held on to it for years and years. He imagined Ben Beckman, Shanks right-hand-man picking it up, just like he did now, and whoever came before that doing the same. It was comforting and made him feel special all at once. Chosen in a world that had continuously tried to reject him.
He placed their name-giving strawhat back where it belonged, in a nest of dark, unruly hair. Then he slung his arms around that strong neck, rested his less bruised cheek where it had been only a few days ago, on a narrow and ropey shoulder. “It’s alright, captain.”
And Luffy bawled into his neck, rubber arms coming to rest on his broad back, grasping just tight enough to be comforting without feeling restraining in any way.
The world was pushed back into alignment. For the first time since he was pinned to the floor and beaten senseless the swordsman felt like he could breathe.
“Sorry Zoro, I am so sorry…” The man merely hummed at the pleading stream of apologies whispered and sobbed into his ear, glad to get to hold onto something and in return being held just as firmly.
“Don’t worry Luff. Everything’s fine now. We’re alright.”