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Stepping into his old bedroom was like stepping back in time. The Baratie itself had gone through some changes over the years--new tables, new paint, even a fully renovated kitchen--but his room was exactly like he'd left it.
Sanji paused at the door, taking in the bed with its familiar blue-striped sheets. The shelf behind it still held an ashtray and a few books that he hadn't taken with him. The only thing missing was the framed photo of him and Zeff. It had traveled with him across the world and now had pride of place in the galley on the Sunny.
Space was a precious commodity at sea, so leaving his room untouched was entirely impractical. Zeff should have given it to his new sous-chef or at least used it for storage, but here it was waiting for him in case he ever needed it.
Zeff had given him his first home. He'd taught him what that word meant. Sanji pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, trying to stop the tears that wanted to come.
Once he felt more in control he dropped his hands and looked at the only unfamiliar object in the room. There was a large book resting on the bed. He sat down and opened it only to be confronted with the hideous drawing on his first wanted poster. He flipped through page after page of wanted posters and news clippings, each one featuring Sanji.
He scanned through a few of the articles before closing it and taking a seat on the window ledge the way he often had as a teenager. He lit a cigarette, took a long soothing drag, and stared off into the distance. He'd spent most of his free time as a teenager sitting here dreaming about the adventures that always seemed out of reach. He'd imagined all sorts of things--mermaids, giants, the All Blue--but never truly thought he'd see them.
Heavy footsteps clomped up the stairs and shook him from his thoughts. "Cook? You up here?"
Zoro entered the room, his mere presence pulling Sanji out of the past and into the present. Even in his wildest daydreams as a teenager he could never have imagined a man like Zoro in his room. Of course, at sixteen he'd been doing everything he could to pretend that he didn't want men like Zoro.
Zoro crossed the room and joined him at the window. "This was your room? Nice view."
"Yeah." Sanji took one last moment to appreciate the blue sky full of fluffy clouds, before turning his attention to Zoro. "Did Chopper say anything?"
"He thinks he can help," Zoro answered. "Buy Zeff some time."
"How much time?"
Zoro rested his hand on Sanji's shoulder, its presence a comforting weight. "Maybe enough time."
"That's good," Sanji said, trying to convince himself. He leaned his head against Zoro's chest and Zoro wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "When are we going to leave?"
"Tomorrow. Franky is adding a private room for him near the infirmary. And the Witch is trying to work out the most direct course to the All Blue."
"Don't call her that," Sanji said automatically, but without his usual heat. He didn't have the energy to fight, especially not when Zoro's arms might well be the only thing holding him together.
"We'll get him there, Sanji. He'll see it."
Sanji nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Zoro's thumb rubbed soothing circles against his arm and he let himself accept the comfort. It wasn't easy letting someone else take care of him--he was still struggling with the concept that he deserved the love Zoro and the others gave him--but he recognized that as the legacy of his childhood. He didn't want it to be his future.
Besides, Zoro was a stubborn man. He'd proven himself more than a match for Sanji's insecurities.
Sanji finally pulled away when the urge to soothe his anxiety with nicotine became too great. He lit another cigarette and took a deep drag, blowing the smoke out of the window and away from Zoro. "It's strange being back here. Makes me feel like a teenager again."
Zoro sat on the bed, idly flipping through the scrapbook. "I don't know if I ever felt like a teenager."
"It's a miracle I did. I never would have if I'd stayed in Germa."
Sanji left the window and tapped at the floorboards with his toe until he found the one he was looking for. He crouched down and pressed on one side of it until it began to lift. He carefully pried it up and set it aside to reveal the dusty magazines he'd hidden there so many years ago.
Zoro joined him and picked one up. He rolled his eyes at the busty woman on the cover. "Love-cook is right. I don't think you need any more porn. Your locker is fit to bursting as it is."
"These are practically vintage now," Sanji defended. He pulled more out until he found what he was looking for. He tossed it at Zoro.
Zoro furrowed his brow as he flipped through it. "Suits? Why did you hide a suit catalog?"
"Because I was a repressed bisexual teenager who was too scared to buy a magazine with naked men."
Zoro laughed. "So men in suits were your thing? Sorry to disappoint."
"I wear enough suits for both of us." Sanji leaned back against his bed. "But the teenager who hid that never would have dreamed he'd be sitting here with you." He sighed. "I need to tell the old man. Before he figures it out himself."
"You think he'll take it badly?"
"I used to think he would. I was terrified of doing anything that might make him disappointed in me." Sanji ran his fingers through his hair. "Seriously disappointed at least. I could be a real shit sometimes."
"You don't say," Zoro said dryly. Sanji lashed out with a half-hearted kick, but Zoro just grabbed his leg and held it across his lap. "And now?"
Sanji shrugged. "I think he just wants me to be happy."
"I think you're right."
Sanji took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll talk to him tonight."
"Do you want me to be there?"
"Maybe? He might be sick, but I'm pretty sure he could still kick the shit out of you if he wanted to."
"I'll take my chances." Zoro squeezed Sanji's leg. "We'll do it together." He paused. "And I'll be here for the rest of it too."
Sanji reached out to take Zoro's hand. "I know."