Chapter Text
The first week is, in a word, miserable. Zoro can't tell whether it's the lack of sight or the fact that Chopper has him so doped up on pain meds that he can hardly think straight, but he constantly feels like he's missing some vital happening. There are intruders in the corner, the ship has a leak, Luffy is going to fall overboard, the oven is left on, something. He can hardly sleep because his body refuses to relax. He asks Chopper to lower his dose for a period to see if that sets his mind at ease, but is quickly reacqainted with the drug's necessity through pain levels that make it equally impossible to think.
The only time he feels somewhat at peace is when one of the crew is in the bed with him, but he'll gladly go a month without sleep before admitting that. And even then, he's restless. His body has been in the habit of moving every day for as long as he can remember, doing reps, fighting, even just basic stretches when he was too injured for much else, but this time he can't even do those yet. Here he was afraid of what losing his sight would do to him, when right now his worst enemy is simply being bedridden.
By the third day of Chopper having to basically carry him to the bathroom to take a leak (he refused the catheter, that sounded worse), he's about ready to risk tearing open all his stitches just to try getting around by himself.
But he can't do that. He knows. He reminds himself that this suffering now is in hopes of functioning again later, and he can't put that in jeopardy. That would be betraying his crew.
So he takes deep breaths in and out, trying to meditate through the concussion and the growing sense of fear crawling up his back by the day.
Patience, patience, patience.
He will get through this.
"Moss, you do know you have to open your mouth to eat, right?" the cook's irritated voice cuts through his thoughts.
"Maybe I just don't want any more of your crappy food," Zoro snaps back.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot your usual diet is sun, water, and dirt. I'll put you in a little pot and give you that next time."
"Better than all this soup."
"Well if you'd rather starve--"
"I would!"
"Well do it, then!"
"I will!"
This, at least, feels normal.
The cook's shell-shocked pity didn't even last twenty-four hours, and Zoro is grateful for that. He needs at least one other person on this ship to indulge him in pretending nothing is any different. To fight with him like they're still equals.
Which they are, of course. They are.
It just...doesn't feel like it right now.
There's a sigh next to him. "Zoro, you really do have to eat."
Zoro sighs, too. "I know."
He opens his mouth, ignoring the ache in his jaw that prevents him from chewing solid food in the first place. Sanji cups his face to position it and starts feeding him spoonfuls of soup. It's warm and it tastes good if he can just ignore the fact that it's happening.
He can't decide if the cook is the worst possible person to be doing this or the only one he can tolerate to even witness it. The others would do just fine, technically, but Zoro would know they were sitting there feeling bad for him, and he doesn't think he could take that. The cook seeing him too weak to lift a spoon to his mouth is humiliating beyond measure, but at least he can claim some agency by fighting him about it.
"Robin picked up some new books at the last port," Sanji says. "Ones you'd like, stories. Hopefully that'll stave off the boredom a bit."
Zoro hums in acknowledgement. He does enjoy Robin reading to him. Her voice is steady and soothing. It's no replacement for getting to move his body around, but it helps.
"I grabbed some different spices, too," the cook continues, "so hopefully 'til your face heals you can at least have different flavors of soup."
Zoro scratches his fingers quietly on the comforter. He doesn't like this territory they're entering; it's a little too close to niceness.
"Thanks," he forces out, because he's not sure what else to say.
"Of course, with your palette you probably won't be able to tell the difference anyway," Sanji retorts.
Relief washes over Zoro.
"What's that supposed to mean, curly-brows?" he asks, falling back into their disgruntled rhythm.
"It means you have the tastebud refinement of an alcoholic sea slug. Did I stutter?"
"At least I know when something needs more pepper."
"You wouldn't know a safe pepper portion for a sea king."
"I thought cooks were supposed to like flavor."
"Making your tongue go numb is not a flavor!"
"It can be if you're not a coward."
"That's not how that works!"
"What do you know about how my tastebuds work?
"That they don't, for one!"
"Then what's the harm in giving me enough pepper?"
"It's the principle of the thing."
"Oh, for crying out--"
Boom!
The cannon stops Zoro's words in his throat as the ship rocks, and he hears Sanji's breath tighten.
"Crap," the cook mutters. "Who would even be--"
Boom!
There's shouting above deck. Zoro's whole body is on alert, itching for his swords, but he can't do anything. The thought hits him, what if this is it? The moment where his weakness does the crew in? It's so soon, he's not ready.
"Mosshead, I gotta go," Sanji says, and there's a slight hesitance in his voice that makes Zoro frown.
"Get on with it, then," he says. "I don't want this soup to be cold on top of flavorless."
And then Sanji is gone, out the door and up the stairs, and Zoro's gut feels empty.
The room is too quiet. The rest of the ship is too loud.
Another cannon blast rocks the ship, not an impact thankfully, but it startles him. His fingers twitch and he clenches the bedsheets. He needs to fight he needs to fight he needs to fight.
He trusts Sanji and Luffy and Robin. He trusts all of the crew. Even the weakest among them are good fighters. But he still saves their hides on an almost daily basis, and they shouldn't have to be on the front lines. It should be him.
He can feel his heart rate rising, not with the regular adrenaline of battle, but with the odd, foreign presence of genuine fear. He is not used to this. He grasps for control of his emotions, but can't find solid calm.
Usopp cries out above deck, and Zoro knows that Usopp screams about everything, he's fine, he's fine, he's fine, just overreacting like always, probably not even hurt at all, and hiding behind the cook's legs by now, but--
Gunshots. Zoro waits with held breath to hear any sign they caused significant harm, but he can't make out the words or intentions of all the shouting.
Even lying perfectly still he can't seem to catch his breath.
He tries to figure out by sound who they're fighting. Marines? Other pirates? Easy foes, or a real threat? He doesn't know exactly what to listen for. By this point he's usually already on the scene. He tries to reach out with haki, but that takes focus he can't seem to catch hold of.
It's alright, just let them handle it. They can handle it. They can handle it.
Why can't he breathe?
In a moment of instinct he tries to sit up, but quickly abandons that venture when pain tears through his chest and shoulders. His gasps for breath fall even more out of his control.
He should be able to deal with this. Just regulate the heart rate. Breathe in and out.
Try to get into a meditative state.
But no matter what he tries, he can't seem to manage it. It's like his only options are to hyperventilate or stop breathing entirely. He can feel his hands shake, and since when have his hands ever shook?
There are more gunshots, and the crunch of wood. He tries not to imagine one of his friends going overboard, most likely Luffy or Chopper, Nami hemmed in by marines which means Sanji will run to help her before the others, Brook and Robin unable to swim, Franky too distracted fighting, Usopp too thoroughly holed up in a vital sniper point to get down in time without everyone else losing backup, and Zoro should be there, but he isn't, and it'll be his fault--his fault when--
He hears the cook cry out. Not just a yell of frustration or to talk across the battlefield, but in pain. That sends him over the edge.
His breaths quicken in full panic, reality slipping as all he can imagine is his friends in danger and all he can feel is the fruitless, burning desire to move. If they can hurt the cook they can hurt the others. There's no telling what could happen. And if the others are defeated, the enemies will find him next, maybe just kill him if they're merciful, but maybe taunt him, capture him, rip open his stitches, more shame and helplessness and torment. All the strength he's built up, only to have no more ability to save anyone than he did at ten years old wishing he could go back in time and stop a freak accident.
He chest heaves and his throat closes up like he's going to cry, but he can't produce tears anymore, so it only adds to the irregularity of his breathing. Time becomes fluid and uncertain as the same thoughts loop in his brain over and over. At some point he stops hearing the sounds of the battle over the blood rushing in his ears, and he's trapped in a black hole of sensory deprivation, mentally begging for it to be over.
He doesn't know how long he lies there hyperventilating before a hand is suddenly on his arm. He flinches, and it hurts, but he realizes someone is talking to him.
"--oss, Mosshead, Zoro! It's just me. You're fine. Breathe."
That's wrong. Zoro is not fine. And the crew is not fine, either. The cook is not fine--except, no, the cook is the one talking to him. He's alright?
"Zoro, please say you can hear me."
"C-cook?" he manages.
"What's going on?" A small, distressed voice asks. Chopper.
"It's--he's not more hurt, he's just scared, I think."
"M'not scared," he breathes, almost an involuntary reaction.
"Well, his pigheadedness hasn't suffered any injuries."
Zoro furrows his brow, slightly grounded by taking offense. But his worries aren't totally gone. "Cook, you're...you were hurt. I heard you."
"Oh, that. It was just a scratch, I'm fine."
"That's not exactly what it was," Chopper argues.
"Shut it, Chopper," the cook says through gritted teeth.
Then there's a creak in the doorway, and Robin's voice helpfully announces, "Sanji suffered a blow to the balls during our encounter."
The whiplash Zoro experiences brings him back to the ground in seconds.
"Robinnn!" the cook whines.
Chopper starts to snicker. "It was the only injury."
That's. He. What.
Unbelievable. He was so terrified and--and--
His shuddering breaths start to mellow out until they turn into uncontrollable laughing. His whole body is still shaking, and he feels desperate for someone to touch him again just to be sure it's real, but this is...
They're alright. They're all okay.
He hasn't been the death of them yet.
"Cook, I swear, as soon as I'm out of this bed, I'm gonna do it again."
"So...what happened today...are we gonna talk about it?" Usopp asks hesitantly as everyone finishes their mostly cold dinner with uncharacteristic quiet.
Sanji is dreading this a little, but he knows the sniper is right.
"Talk about what?" Luffy asks with his mouth half full, undeterred from eating now that Zoro's life is no longer in question. "Sanji's balls?"
Sanji chokes on his wine and nearly spits it out.
Franky snorts loudly while Brook poorly attempts to disguise his laugh as a cough.
"Why would you say it like that?" Nami groans, looking somewhere between disappointed and traumatized.
"No, idiot," Sanji says, glaring at Luffy. "The fact that Zoro had a panic attack. Slightly more important?"
"That was my second guess," Luffy says defensively.
Sanji does not like today.
"If we want to help him, I do think we should talk," Robin offers.
The crew gives collective nods and murmurs of agreement.
Sanji chews on his cheek for a moment.
"We can't leave him alone like that again," he says softly. "It's my fault, I--I thought he'd be fine, he's always been--"
"Hey," Franky interrupts, "don't start pointin' fingers, bro, even at yourself."
"Hear, hear," Brook says. "You noticed a threat and came to help, just like you always do. You couldn't have known he would react so strongly."
Sanji's not sure if he believes that. He didn't expect Zoro to actually panic, but he could tell he wasn't calm. Still, they're right that blaming himself doesn't get them anywhere.
"Well, in any case," he says, "if he's still more or less bedridden next time there's a fight, one of us has to stay with him. He'll hate it, but...somebody needs to keep him grounded."
Reality can start to warp when you're alone in the dark, Sanji knows. All the fears you thought you could manage are suddenly the size of giants and twice as bloodthirsty, and you have nowhere to run or hide. He wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone.
"I wouldn't mind being the default," Nami says, though there's no enthusiasm to it. "I'm the least likely to be needed in a fight, anyway, and I could let him know what's happening if I'm able to see. He won't like being babysat, but...it's better than the alternative. Chopper will wear himself out if we don't volunteer."
"Thank you, Nami dear," Sanji says softly.
"Don't thank me yet," she says. "You haven't seen the mood he'll get into, or how much I'm paying myself for this."
Sanji chuckles, appreciating Nami's levity. If she's not worried, everything feels a little more manageable.
The rest of them are quiet for another moment, picking at their food.
"Is...is he gonna be okay?" Usopp finally asks in a small voice.
"He's been okay every other time," Sanji says, but they both know that doesn't quite answer the question.
"Zoro is gonna be fine," Luffy asserts, leaving no room for argument, "because none of us are gonna let him feel alone ever again."
Sanji isn't entirely sure that's possible, but he smiles a little. If anyone can do it, it's this crew. It's Luffy.
"That's right," the cook agrees. And there's nothing more to it.
It's late in the evening--he thinks, anyway--when Luffy comes into the infirmary, telling Chopper to go rest in his bunk for a while. Zoro is glad to know Chopper's getting a break, but he doesn't like the feeling that they're taking shifts watching him. Still, he can never be truly unhappy at Luffy's presence, so when the captain flops down beside him with a sigh and wraps his arms around his middle, a hint of a smile tugs on his lips.
"Hi, Zoro," Luffy says.
"Hey, Luf," he replies, the warmth of being near him already making it easier to breathe.
"Sorry we left you alone earlier," Luffy says. "Got distracted by the fight."
"It's fine," Zoro says almost before he can think about it. "I don't need a chaperone, I just need to...get a handle on myself."
Luffy doesn't respond immediately, and Zoro can practically hear his frown in the silence. Despite not being able to see him, he has Luffy so memorized that he envisions every mannerism anyway. He hopes that stays. A pit opens in his stomach at the thought that it might not. That over time, he could start to forget the lines of Luffy's face, the specific places his teeth are uneven, the angles of the stitch scars on his cheek. But no, no. He'll pathetically beg to feel it all with his fingertips like braille before he lets himself lose that knowledge. He knows Luffy will understand, anyway. He won't find it strange or shameful.
But it doesn't matter, because that's not going to happen. And he needs to stop having weird, scary thoughts for like, five minutes.
"Your heart is fast," Luffy says, interrupting his unpleasant musings.
Zoro only grunts in response, not wanting to talk about the reason.
"I'm not gonna leave you alone again, you know," Luffy says firmly. "Not ever."
Zoro winces slightly and breathes a frustrated sigh. "That's not--you don't need to do that. You don't need to worry about me or accommodate me or anything. Whatever happened back there, that was--I'll get over it. I'll get stronger."
Luffy hums, sounding a little dejected and annoyed. "Sanji said it would go like this."
"Wait, like what? What did he say?" Zoro demands, immediately more offended.
"That you'd be dumb and try to pretend in front of us."
"Hey, that's--" he tries to think of words, but finds himself only sputtering. Stupid concussion. Or maybe the cook's just right--a detestable thought. "Look, I've managed to tough it out through everything else. I can do the same with this. I'm not gonna become someone who's--who's scared of being alone."
"What, like me?" Luffy says, deadpan and point blank.
Zoro swallows every word he was preparing to say. They all knew Luffy really struggled with feeling alone, especially after Ace, but he's never just come right out and said it like that.
"That's not what I meant," Zoro says quietly. "You know that's not what I meant."
"No, it's not," Luffy admits. "But you think it's okay for everyone else to be scared except you, and that's dumb."
"It's not dumb, it's my job," Zoro insists.
Luffy sits up in bed rather abruptly. "When did I ever say that?"
Zoro goes silent for a moment, nearly flinching at the genuine hurt in his captain's voice.
"When?" Luffy continues. "When did I ever tell you that being my swordsman means you can't be scared? That's stupid, Zoro. You're my nakama. All my nakama are free to feel however they want."
"I...I promised you I'd be strong, that I'd be the best," Zoro insists, though he can feel his voice waver.
"Yeah, I know," Luffy says, as if he can't even see the connection.
"I can't be the strongest if I'm freaking scared of the dark."
"Sanji's scared of the dark," Luffy says.
"I know, but he's not--"
"And bugs. And Brook is scared of dying even though he's already dead. Usopp is scared of everything, except bugs. Nami is scared of running out of money, and also bugs again. And I'm scared of--of losing people, and not being a good captain, and--" he stops to take a deep breath. "You don't have to be scared alone, Zoro. It doesn't make you stronger. Your nakama make you stronger. So stop being dumb and tell me, do you want to be alone?"
Zoro feels his chest tighten, as if preparing to cry.
"No," he admits, barely above a whisper. "No I don't, I..." he trails off, tongue searching for the words.
"What do you want, Zoro?"
"I want..." he starts, trying to keep his voice steady, "I just want...everyone to be safe, and not...leave me behind."
The last few words come out unbidden, a fear he hadn't even allowed his conscious mind to consider.
Luffy's arms are back around him in an instant, face buried in his neck. "We'll never leave you behind, Zoro. Never, never, never."
A feeling he can't swallow rises up in his throat, and a sob escapes him.
Luffy only holds him tighter, threatening to crush his cracked ribs, but Zoro doesn't care. He hugs Luffy back as well as he can with weak, shaky arms, feeling his heartbeat, breathing in his smell, trying to stay close to him with the senses he has left. He's not alone. He will never be alone. His captain will take care of him, and that's not a failure. It's just...what nakama do.