Zoro burst through the door, heavily panting. His dark eye was wide and his face slightly pale. He was nervous, he was scared, he was a mix of everything. His shirt was stained with fresh blood which accompanied similar smudges on his usually tan skin. His gaze fell to Chopper, who was washing his medical equipment in the sink.
"Shitty Cook! Where is he? Is he okay?" He tried to growl, but the worry was evident behind his words. He peeled his bandana from his head. Chopper's chin lifted and he looked Zoro over.
Though Zoro didn't stick around waiting for any answer. He grabbed one of the towels around the room, tuning out much of what Chopper said about what he could and couldn't do. He wiped himself down then, gently, opened the door.
It was dimly lit inside with an overwhelming atmosphere that told him to be quiet. He moved into the room, taking in its surroundings. There was a clump of Blonde hair peeking out from a blanket wrapped creature he assumed to be his cook, laying across the bed. His fingers touched the top of the covers, a warm smile spreading across his face.
So he was okay, the Cook. Zoro had been an absolute mess, though it didn't necessarily show, when he had fallen the same time a raid had begun outside. His trailing fingers peeled back the cover, and he tilted his head, taking in the view of an exhausted Sanji. He bent down slowly, his lips placing a small peck on his pale cheek.
A small sound behind him made his eyes widen. He stood straight quickly, and half turned to glance at the bassinet just a foot or so away. How could he forget, the main reason for concern. His stomach seemed to drop. Sanji was okay. They both were okay. The word in his mind felt strange, but exciting. It wasn't just the two of them anymore.
He took a step forward, glancing down. He was so small. Yes he, Zoro realised triumphantly, he had a son. He chuckled softly to himself, unable to control his grin now. God was he beautiful. His face was red, his eyes puffed and swollen, but Zoro could just tell. This was his son.
He cautiously moved his hand out, the tips of his fingers touching the green hair clinging to his temple. The baby's eyes were closed tightly, his tiny eyebrows furrowed. That must have been his scowl, yes definitely the one Sanji nagged him about. His face softened though at the warm touch, and his eyes opened.
It made Zoro's throat want to close. Two big blue eyes staring up at him. Sanji's, no doubt. It made Zoro feel a little awkward. What was he supposed to do here? He'd never really had to do this before, never had… a son. His hand lowered and he graciously scooped up the bundled infant. He slowly brought it up, tucking it into his arms.
Embarrassingly, he felt under dressed and considerably worried. Why didn't he clean up before seeing him? Would the blood stench be too overwhelming? What was he supposed to say here? A nice, Hello I'm your daddy? That seemed too cliché.
"Oi..." He whispered, eyeing the twitch of movement on the infants face. He might have been the new toy around here, the next new thing and center of attention, but Zoro could tell he was threatening to start screaming and he wasn't about to have that. Sanji was resting, and he deserved it as much as Zoro wanted to crudely wake him.
Instead, it provoked a different reaction. His son's eyes looked more curious, staring up at Zoro. Did he know? Zoro pondered, that he was his father? The thought warmed his chest. He stared back, equally curious.
A click from behind them though made them both look away. Zoro turned slowly, glancing back at the bed. Sanji had sat himself up, smoking a freshly lit cigarette. His expression dared Zoro to challenge him about enjoying it after waiting so long without one, but Zoro remained quiet. He lifted his arm instinctively, showing off his son.
Sanji grinned. What an interesting sight to see. The dry blood covered Zoro, holding an almost miniature version of himself so proudly.
"Only your son wouldn't be afraid of that ugly mug."
Zoro laughed softly, approaching Sanji and sitting himself on the edge of the bed. His eyes were back on their son.
"You're just pissed cos he looks like me." He mumbled.
Sanji rolled his eyes, reminding himself not to kick the moron while he was holding the most precious thing in the world. He instead leaned forward, resting himself slightly against Zoro's frame and staring down at their bundle. His face nuzzled Zoro's shoulder affectionately, and he held out his finger, adjusting the wrapped cloth around its face.
"Don't worry mini me." He cooed softly, moving it then to lightly brush his hair. "We'll dye it."
Anything can happen on the grandline? If thats where they are! Up to you ~. I just love the idea of family Zosan. And dat mentioned mpreg. Don't hate please! Hope you enjoyed :D