Title: Fishy Situations
Disclaimer: Sunny-Donna and I don't own anything involving One Piece or any of its characters. We only own the plot
Post Thriller Bark Arc
This is a collab with Sunny-Donna
He'd been in the coma for two days. Two fucking days! Sanji stared at the limp, prone form of the swordsman, as he lay in the infirmary bed, wrapped up in as many white bandages as Chopper could find, and covered by the thickest cotton sheet that had been dragged out of that boat-castle. He just couldn't reconcile with the fact that it was Zoro, and he was in a coma. How could Zoro- Zoro- of all people be in a coma for two days? Just what had happened after he'd been knocked out?
And then the anger came back.
How dare Zoro knock him out? How dare he take the blow for Sanji? How dare he do anything for Sanji and land in a goddamned coma? And then the guilt resurfaced and increased as he stared at the stunningly limp form.
A fucking coma.
It was hard for Sanji to even take a glance at the swordsman with all the bandages that covered his body. The cook refused to admit that he was worried about the other man. The entire crew took turns making sure someone was there when Zoro would awaken.
Robin and Nami made their presences known every few hours, his angels that they were, so caring and perfect. Usopp and Franky alternated spending nights, but neither were much for being there during the day, having repairs to make and adjustments to do to boats for the other captives of Thriller Bark. Chopper was practically camped out in the infirmary, until Sanji talked him into checking on his other patients. Luffy after all, had been pretty roughed up. Said Captain made his presence known sporadically, always cheerful and optimistic and so fucking annoying because Zoro was in a coma and why was nobody else seeing the issue here? Not that he cared. Nope. Not at all. Because really, it was Zoro's fault. His entire fault. He should have just let Sanji take the fucking blow and be done with it.
That fucking swordsman just had to be so damn stubborn. He just had to play hero, and it had been bothering Sanji ever since. The cook wanted to kick the unconscious man out of the bed, and yell at him for taking the hit. Sanji pulled up a chair, moved it close to the bed, and sat next to Zoro.
"Damn shitty-swordsman...I hate seeing you like this, but you should have let me take that hit..." Sanji mumbled irritably as he withdrew the urge to light a cigarette. Chopper had warned him about smoke fume in the infirmary and how it could be bad for Zoro's health. Fucking idiot. Now he couldn't even have a smoke.
"This is what you've done. Can't even smoke," muttered Sanji, "And you're taking forever to wake up. What the hell's wrong with you? Don't tell me you can't-
He stopped. No. This wasn't something he could mock Zoro for. Shit. Sanji's hands went into his hair, and he resisted the urge to mess it up. Just barely. The last thing he needed was his appearance to be even more disheveled than the wrinkled shirt, and slightly scuffed up shoes.
Sanji looked closely at Zoro's face. "I just hope you don't wake up to see me like this...I feel so weak." He mumbled towards the other man. His eyes traced the wrapped bandages across the swordsman's body, accidentally allowing more guilt to pile on. Sanji felt sorry for Zoro, and he'd rather be in the other's position if it meant the moss head would be okay.
A small smile formed on Sanji's face as his hand subconsciously traced the arms of the man who saved his life, but is now in a coma.
"Wake up already marimo..." Sanji said in a hushed tone before whispering, "I'm worried about you...and I-I miss you." The cook cursed himself out mentally as he felt a blush coming onto his cheeks.
"I- I have no idea why- I mean, if anything I should probably be happy that you're not… But I'm not. It's like, you're always sleeping anyways because you're just so fucking lazy, but fuck. This really isn't the same, now is it?" asked Sanji to the limp form, that really had no answers. He gave a harsh bark of laughter, not really sure what it was for, just that he felt a little insane.
Immediately he began readjusting Zoro's blanket, wondering if the green-haired man could hear him. Probably not. His hand went to Zoro's head, checking his temperature for a fever. Chopper warned that a fever was the last thing Zoro needed right now, and Sanji was always checking for that. It just happened that he'd pause, let his hand run through Zoro's short green spikes that were softer than they looked.
"You look really fucking weird when you're not trying to bleed yourself by training," continued Sanji softly, "And fuck- If you die, I swear on the sea that I'll kill you. I will murder you if you die and leave the crew- us- your nakama… Just don't die. They can't handle it. Luffy will- He'll break. And Chopper and Usopp, they're just kids. Robin-chan's lived a hard enough life without your death added to it, and Nami-swan shouldn't have to waste her precious tears on a marimo like you. Franky'll miss you, probably sing a song and I really don't want to hear that. I really don't want you to die. I- I can't- Don't die on me marimo. I- I need you here too."
Eyes slowly blinked open, and the cook was the first thing in the line of vision. Zoro never felt or noticed Sanji running those long, slim fingers through the mess of green hair belonging to his head.
"Cook? What are you doing here?" The swordsman said softly, his voice raspy from lack of fluid. The voice startled Sanji right out of the chair.
"M-Marimo?! You're awake! I-uh- I mean- do you need anything?" Sanji said nervously, trying to keep his cool in front of Zoro.
"Something to eat would be good...I'm starving." Zoro barely asked for something to eat. Sanji simply nodded as he headed towards the kitchen, passing Chopper in the process.
"Oi Chopper...the marimo just woke up."
"Zoro's awake?! He needs a doctor! Someone call a doctor!" cried Chopper, slumping up from his desk, already heading into panic mode as he glanced around the infirmary, that really looked like a whirlpool had been through it, sloshing bandages and pillows around in every direction.
"That's you," said Sanji evenly, ignoring the burn in his cheeks and in his ears and neck. Fuck he was probably redder than Nami-swan's hair at this point. Fuck if the swordsman had heard anything-
"Right!" said Chopper shakily, and Sanji escaped before Chopper could investigate his red-face and question him about it. The cook watched the little reindeer rush toward Zoro, and he just lit a much needed cigarette. He took a long drag from the cancer sticks, as the marimo called them, and began to prepare something soft and easy to digest for the recovering swordsman.
"Fuck...I-I can't get rid of that damned feeling. What if he- I shouldn't worry too much...right?" Sanji mumbled to himself as he prepared and cooked fresh soup for Zoro.
The kitchen reflected Sanji's state of mind. Its usual pristine condition had been shaken up ever since Zoro's injury. The tools were still soaking in the sink, and wouldn't be washed until Sanji had confirmed Zoro was alright. The fridge was locked, but vegetables and fruits and the pantry were all open, with spices laying around, abandoned after the prep work. Usually he came in during the night, when Franky or Usopp stayed with Zoro, and cleaned up and took his smoke. But now, now it was in that messy state between lunch and dinner and looking as ruffled as Sanji felt.
Sanji served the hot soup into a large bowl, and made his way towards the infirmary. Why can't I focus on anything? What is wrong with me? He thought as he stepped inside the infirmary, and nearly dropped the soup. There was the said swordsman sitting on the infirmary bed shirtless.
This was the first time Sanji had taken a good look at Zoro's monstrous upper-body. The muscles complimented the moss-head's body, not too bulky, and not too thin like the blonde. Usually it was covered by a white shirt, but Chopper had been cleaning off the bandages and asides from the deep, bloody cuts and stitches, there was something sensual about Zoro awake, shirtless, and alive. Maybe it was the memory of Zoro's near death, but Sanji's eyes trailed over Zoro's strong, broad shoulders, the pecs of his torso, the flex of muscle in his arm, the gold of his earrings, glinting in the light and practically shining alongside the bronzed muscle.
The cook felt his face heat up again, his cheeks and ears bright red once again. He quickly placed the bowl on Chopper's desk at the entrance of the infirmary, and ran out like his life depended on it.
Chopper was probably the only doctor Zoro could stand allowing near him. He was patient, calm, and wasn't above restraining Zoro if he got too annoying. Most doctors would try, but Zoro would cut them before they could. Chopper would just make big eyes and start hyperventilating, and Zoro had no choice but to give in.
"You had major blood loss," lectured Chopper, "I already have two IV's hooked up, one transporting nutrients, the other blood. It's why you're still anemic. You'll probably be tired and lethargic for the next day or two, which isn't actually normal, but with your healing, that is normal, so don't try and get up to train! And a lot of the internal wounds are still healing, so don't move around too much, or you'll tear the stitches. It's worse if you tear the internal ones because then I have to go in and fix them!"
"How- long?" questioned Zoro, pausing to cough up some blood. That was new.
"Until your discharge doesn't have blood in it you're confined to bed rest! Your kidneys took major damage! You're lucky I didn't need to remove any organs!" said Chopper firmly, and Zoro glowered at the doctor, who didn't flinch, and then at his body. How dare it betray him? More training required to strengthen his organs then.
"But your samples were mostly clear the other day," rambled Chopper, "Not that I'm giving you any lee-way! Anyways, we'll need to change your bandages now that you're awake."
As Chopper continued to lecture about the medical terms, Zoro tuned out, trying to remember the details. It was all still hazy. He remembered the cook being stubborn and trying to take the blow. Like he'd ever let that happen. He remembered knocking him out. Then pain. Lots and lots of pain. He shifted uneasily at that memory.
There was a clatter at the doorway, and both doctor and swordsman turned to see a bowl of soup sitting on Chopper's desk and the cook disappearing into the background. Zoro frowned, trying to recall something important. He'd heard the cook talking- hadn't he? There was something there but he was just too tired to think straight. And the soup smelled good and Chopper was rambling. Maybe later than.
Sanji slammed the door to the galley and sat in the corner of his domain with all the lights off for quite some time, trying to adjust to the new sensations and the memory of Zoro- unconscious- alive- strong- alive- that bombarded his mind. His breathing became rapid, his heart beat sped up, and his face was redder than it had been before. I shouldn't be like this...it's just the fucking marimo! What if he actually heard what I said?! Oh shit... The cook reached into his jacket for a much needed cigarette, only to be disappointed when the pack was empty.
From the door connecting to the infirmary, Sanji could hear Zoro's voice. It sounded like the swordsman was trying to remember something. Or at least, talking out loud to himself. He couldn't quite hear him, but Sanji stilled immediately.
Zoro. Remembering. Not good.
He banged the door to the infirmary open, and with a lazy sort of drawl, entered to ask, "How was the soup?"
Zoro turned to see the cook for the first time since he'd woken up. Luffy and Usopp and Franky had just left, apparently after singing the song Franky had composed out of his joy at seeing Zoro alive and congratulating him. It was such a relief to see Luffy alive, to know that the Shichibukai had stuck by his promise, that Zoro wasn't all that bothered by the interruption, or Nami's later quick visit and promise not to charge him for using so much of their medical supplies. Robin had been much more straightforward and twistedly morbid as she mentioned how it would have been a pity if he died, considering the shadow man was gone and they'd have had to burn his body up into ash to prevent it from being abused by Gecko Moria.
"Shit," said Zoro casually, glancing over at the cook, the last person to visit him, who busied himself by grabbing the bowl and placing Zoro's medicine in front of him.
"Yeah right," said Sanji, snorting as Zoro swallowed the pills and water easily.
The cook looked strange. He couldn't quite identify it, but the memory of the cook offering his life for Zoro's still stung. Sanji looked thinner than Zoro remembered, with paler skin than his usual creamy white, and his shirt ruffled, the buttons open revealing a delicious expanse of thin neck, and rising up because it was untucked to reveal a lean, strong waist. His legs were sheathed by black pants, that looked worn. The best part was his hair, his messy blonde hair, which looked as though he'd rushed to run his hand through it.
Different from what he remembered.
Is something wrong with the cook? He looks different... Zoro thought to himself as he accidentally found himself staring at Sanji's body. Sanji felt the stare, those eyes marked his messy appearance. The swordsman's eyes met with the others, and it seemed like fireworks went off. The cook looked away quickly with a blush across his face.
This can't be happening...I think I'm feeling things for- No! I won't say it!