Chapter Text
The smell of mold and blood hangs heavy in Zoro's lungs as the marine shoves open the rusty cell bars. The creak makes the heavy pounding in his skull spike into brief agony. He grimaces and shifts his hands in the shackles above his head.
This marine looks fancier than the standard grunts who've come to beat him up so far. His dark blond hair is slicked back into a ponytail, and he's got all sorts of pins and ribbons on his uniform. In a less concussed state Zoro could probably identify what most of them meant, but right now he can't even see them properly since his vision pulses blurry with every throb of his head.
"Roronoa Zoro," the marine officer drawls, grey eyes looking him over with something between disdain and apathy. "I have to thank you for providing my men with so much hands-on interrogation experience. We've really been lacking in criminals that present much of a challenge."
Zoro gives him a dull glare. It was certainly hands-on, alright. The blood dripping down his jaw is proof.
"But while training is always valuable," the officer continues, "there comes a point where the job simply needs to get done, and you have not been very helpful in that respect. So tell me, Roronoa, are you going to cooperate, or do I need to start dealing permanent damage?"
Zoro continues to glare at him, keeping his mild dread internal. Technically, they've already done permanent damage. The one guy with the especially nasally voice ripped his earrings straight out, and pocketed them just to add insult to injury. He'll have to track that guy down when he gets out of here.
"Let's start with your captain," the marine says, and...right, he's still talking. "I assume his whereabouts are nearby, but following him around with no strategy ahead of time has proven unsuccessful for my fellow marine branches. I'm more concerned with his future plans. What is your crew's next destination?"
Zoro snorts.
"I'll let you know as soon as he figures that out."
The marine is quick and efficient as he shoves Zoro flat against the wall and slashes a pocket knife through his right pectoral, just under his armpit.
"Rgh!" Zoro cries, feeling the muscle split as his vision goes momentarily starry and his arm spasms out of his control. Warm blood streaks down his chest and side, soaking his shirt. There's a lot of it. He closes his eye briefly and tries to steady his breath.
"That's about half your arm functionality I just took, if it's not treated within the hour," the officer states plainly. "We have capable medics on board, of course, if you're willing to start talking. Otherwise...good luck holding all three swords again."
Zoro inhales and exhales in a slow, even pattern. His arm is trembling and going limp, that much is true. But this guy's tone is really getting on his nerves, acting like he knows anything about him beyond his occupation and a few rumors. His threats are good in a theoretical sense--a swordsman should be afraid of losing limbs and such--but the man has no clue how much Zoro is willing to sacrifice. Then again, it's probably to his advantage. He's starting comparatively tame as mutilation goes.
The officer moves his knife up to Zoro's shoulder, almost caressing it with the blade.
"I'll ask you again Roronoa," he says, "what is your Captain's intended destination?"
"Your mother's house," Zoro deadpans.
The knife slices down through skin and muscle like a steak. Zoro cries out through gritted teeth, but says nothing and continues to glare.
"Not very attached to the arm, then?" the officer continues. "Fair enough for a man who can fight with his mouth, I suppose. Maybe a bum leg would ruin your career more effectively."
He kneels down to Zoro's level and pushes up the cuff of his pants. The urge to kick him is strong even shackled, but at this point Zoro needs to avoid unnecessary injury from provoking him.
The marine raises an eyebrow when he sees the deep scar around Zoro's ankle. "Looks like someone's tried before."
Zoro exhales a laugh through his nose. The man has no idea.
The officer tilts his head. "Something funny?"
Zoro shrugs, though only one shoulder really moves. "Just remembering how it happened."
"And how is that?" the marine says, teasing the tip of the knife across the scar.
Zoro maintains eye contact, grinning with teeth and refusing to flinch at the touch of the blade.
"Have you ever tried to cut off your own legs, officer?"
The man goes silent for a moment. The knife stops moving.
"Hurts like hell," Zoro continues, "especially the closer you get to the bone. But honestly the hardest part was getting enough leverage with my feet already trapped. I had to do it slow, like a handsaw."
"You're insane," the marine states plainly.
Zoro's grin widens. "Crazy as they come. I only stopped 'cause the trap came off first, but you get the point. I'll become the world's greatest swordsman with peg legs and hook arms if I have to. And you'll be worse off than that when my captain finds you."
The marine glares and grits his teeth.
"He won't be coming for you this time," he says, and white-hot pain slashes through the back of Zoro's ankle.
Zoro nearly bites off his tongue trying to muffle his scream. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Before he can collect himself the man tears through his other leg in the same place, and he can feel his teeth grind against each other.
Crap, there goes any hope of walking out of here.
It's fine, he tells himself. It's fine. The pain is nothing. The functionality can be worked around. He can still crawl his way to freedom if need be.
"How about Nico Robin?" the marine asks. "She's been evading us for a very long time, but this streak of loyalty is new. Perhaps you know of a way to get past her defenses. A secret, a fear, a turn-on..."
Zoro's eye snaps up with a more venomous glare than before, sharp and wild despite the fact that he's shaking from blood loss. The man has crossed a line in the eyes of every strawhat. Robin is off-limits.
"You do know something," the officer says, idly twirling his knife. "Tell me."
"My advice?" Zoro says, low and harsh. "Stay far away from her, unless you want every other strawhat personally after your head."
The man frowns.
The knife stabs haphazardly into Zoro's knee with a spurt of blood and then tears back out again.
His vision goes white as a cry wrenches from his throat. The pain sears up and down his whole leg like a thousand needles, and he starts to hyperventilate.
A knee is...not good. Knees are--are--hard to fix, he thinks. He remembers that from somewhere. He can't think straight.
"How many cuts will it take to call your bluff, swordsman?" the marine asks, his calm demeanor returning as Zoro sweats from the pain. "The other arm perhaps?"
He cuts open his left pectoral. Zoro screws his eye shut and bites back a whine.
"Maybe the shoulder, too," he continues. "No use putting a hook on that."
He slices straight through the muscle on his left shoulder, even deeper than the right one. It earns a scream from him, if short and choked off. He can feel the loss of control in his arms, limp and shaky even outside of being shackled. He knows he couldn't lift them above his head if they weren't already chained there.
"Ready to talk yet?" the marine asks. "Or should I start cutting parts off completely? Fingers might be good next. Maybe a nose, an ear..."
Zoro gathers his strength between shaky breaths, staring at the floor. So dizzy. Hurts so much. But he's had worse. He can do this. He will.
He makes eye contact with the marine and spits blood on the ground between them. "I'll talk...when you start scaring me."
The officer gives him a piercing glare, true frustration coming through. He lifts the knife again, and Zoro braces himself.
He still doesn't expect it when the blade hacks straight through his remaining eye.
A shockwave of pain strikes into his skull, and the scream that escapes his throat is ragged and animal. There's a squelch of flesh as the officer pulls the knife out of his face.
He cries out again, panting rapidly and tasting hot blood as it drips into his mouth.
His tries to blink his eye open on instinct but nothing moves. It's all pain, terror, and darkness. Utter, utter darkness. He can't breathe. He can't see. He can't see.
He kicks his legs weakly, but they easily stop against the man's shins, and every movement is agony with severed tendons. He shouts and curses at the man.
"Won't that be a good show?" the marine says, grabbing him by the hair as he squirms. "A blind swordsman who can barely move his limbs, swinging a weapon around in his mouth like a mangy dog. Admiral Fujitora manages without eyes, I suppose, but I wouldn't put him up against Dracule Mihawk, would you? And he's got working arms."
Zoro frantically tries to pull away from his grip, but fails. He doesn't want to listen to this guy's overcomplicated insults while his whole body is screaming with pain.
The officer presses Zoro's head back against the cell wall, making it throb again, and leans in until his breath ghosts over his torn-up ear. "You might wield a blade again if you're lucky, Roronoa, but you will never be the best."
His brain can't fully register his situation, heart thumping out of control and face hot with fresh blood. He knows the words should hurt, but he just wants the man to go away. He can't see. He can't see.
For a moment he is back in the fog of Kuraigana, rain and blood streaming together on his face as he curses himself for everything. For failing to protect the crew, for the uselessness of his rage, for hacking at the stone ruins so recklessly that he swung at the wrong angle without considering the ricochet. The stupidest way he could've injured himself. Nearly as bad as a scar to the back.
This wasn't supposed to happen. No. This is--
It won't stop him. He'll become the greatest swordsman. He will he will he will.
But--but he was supposed to know, if yesterday was the last time he saw the sea, or the sun, or the shimmer of his swords, or the yellow of straw behind Luffy's head like a halo as he grins.
There are no words left in his throat, his head pounding like a hammer.
"No clever comments?" the marine questions, his tone amused. "Maybe now we can start getting to the real conversation. Where were we? Let's see, you were going to tell me about Nico Robin..."
Zoro chokes down a miserable whine and prepares himself to keep his mouth shut and take more pain, when suddenly the man's grip releases with a strangled cry.
"Why don't you ask me yourself?" a steady voice cuts in.
Then there's a scream and the crack of several bones, then the thud of a body hitting the floor.
Zoro lets out a sigh of relief that sounds more labored and shaky than he thought it would.
"Robin," he croaks.
"I'm here, Zoro," she says, footsteps approaching him quickly. "Sanji, too." Slender fingers sprout and tear off the cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and the cook's hands carefully lower his arms to his sides.
He groans with pain at that, his muscles cramping from being held up so long and burning in protest of the deep cuts through them.
"Can't leave you alone for ten minutes," the cook mutters worriedly, quickly rubbing Zoro's arms to help with the obvious stiffness. "Moss, you're hurt bad."
"Thanks, I couldn't tell," Zoro grits out. He expects a glare from Sanji, and then remembers he can't see it, which makes his stomach turn.
"Chopper and Luffy should be right behind us," Robin says.
He nods, jaw clenched. His head is pounding so loudly he can barely hear her. He's so tired.
Maybe he can just rest for a minute.
"Mosshead, wait, stay with me."
Maybe...maybe...
"Hey. Hey! Zoro--"
Yeah. Just...
Sleep.
Sanji's heart skips a beat when Zoro's head drops to the side limp. He curses and quickly squeezes the swordsman's wrist. Time feels unbearably slow as he waits for a pump of blood, but it finally comes.
"Still a pulse," he says with a quick sigh of relief. "We need Chopper, now."
"I'm coming!" a young voice shouts from down the hall as hoofs tap rapidly on stone. "What's his status?"
"Unconscious," Sanji calls back. "He's bleeding out."
Chopper huffs his way over to the cell and on first look cries out in horror.
"We--we have to get him back to the Sunny," he says frantically. "I can't treat him here. Too much blood, not sanitary, don't have all my supplies--"
"Got it, Chopper," Sanji cuts him off, and immediately slips under Zoro's limp arm to pick him up in a bridal carry. The wet feeling of blood sticking to his arms and shirt makes him briefly nauseous. He steels himself. This isn't the first time he's had to carry a half-dead Zoro back to the ship. It'll be fine. The jerk is like a cockroach; he can survive anything.
But seas, there's so much blood.
"I've got him," Sanji says. "You run ahead to start setting up. And hey, where's Luffy?"
"He took on a whole bunch of marines so I could get through, but I'm sure he's almost finished now."
"Tell him we've got Zoro, and to get back to the ship and help Nami set sail."
Chopper nods and transforms into walk point to quickly gallop away.
Sanji shifts to balance Zoro's hefty weight in his arms, feeling more out of breath than he should, and a little shaky. It's fine. It's fine.
Robin puts a hand on his shoulder and gently turns his chin to meet her deep blue eyes.
"He's going to be alright," she says softly. "Breathe before you run."
Sanji nods quickly, his heart rate regulating at her touch. "Of course, Robin dear."
Then a hand sprouts from his chest and puts one of his cigarettes in his mouth, another hand quickly lighting it before both disappear into bursts of petals. His heart stirs at the gesture, and normally he'd be blushing and falling at her feet, but right now he feels almost mothered. He's overcome with the urge to crawl into her arms and be safe and warm.
"Go on, now," she tells him.
"Thank you, Robin," he says. Then he takes a deep, soothing breath of smoke, and runs.
Everything is a blur as he makes his way out of stark, military hallways and onto foliage and sand. There are marines, and then there aren't, and it takes him a moment to realize Brook is taking them out for him.
All he can focus on is the blood slowly soaking his clothes and Zoro's erratic heartbeat--or is that his own?
"You'd better still be breathing when we get to the Sunny, you stupid jerk," he mutters.
Soon the ship is in view, and his cigarette is nearly gone, and he's carrying Zoro over his shoulder as he climbs up the ladder. He's vaguely aware that blood is dripping onto the deck, that he must be covered in it. He sees Nami cover her mouth in horror, and Usopp stare like he's been punched in the gut. Luffy's voice calls out Zoro's name, happily at first, ready to welcome him back and tell him what an adventure they had finding him, then takes one look at the carnage Sanji's dragged on board and loses every hint of a smile.
Sanji is tired. Too tired. He shouldn't be so out of breath. His skin feels sticky and wrong.
He lets himself fall to his knees and partially rest Zoro on the deck as Luffy comes running to wrap his swordsman up in his arms. And he does, truly, stretching his limbs wide and flat like a coccoon of bandages and looping them around Zoro's body over and over.
"Stop bleeding, Zoro," Luffy mutters. "You gotta stop bleeding."
Nami puts a hand on the captain's shoulder. "Luffy, bring him to Chopper."
"Right," he says, and rushes below deck.
Sanji should be relieved that he's brought his crewmate to safety, but instead he only feels more anxious. He can't feel Zoro's heartbeat anymore. He won't know if--if--
No, that won't happen. Zoro won't die. He can't. Because he's tough as nails, and because--because it would just be wrong. Like the universe was off balance, threatening to fall apart. Or maybe just their crew.
Maybe just Sanji.
His pulse is loud in his ears, the sounds of the ship fading into the distance. His red-soaked hands blur before his eyes.
But before he leaves reality entirely, a heavy hand lands on his shoulder and Franky's face comes into view, steady and concerned.
"Hey, stay with us, bro," the cyborg says. "You did good. Don't drift off now."
"I'm...I'm here," Sanji mumbles in reply.
"That's right," Franky affirms. "You can just sit down here if you want, or you can get changed and help me run the grill in a minute. What sounds better?"
Sanji runs his tongue over his dry lips. The crew will be hungry. That's his job. But he knows Franky doesn't actually need any help running the grill. In fact, they tend to fight with each other when they both try to work with the same appliance at once. Franky is just trying to keep him from going into shock. Sanji doesn't think he can do that as long as Zoro's blood is still on every part of his body he can see.
"I...n-need to shower," he manages.
"Shower, that's good," Franky says. "Go get cleaned up, man."
Sanji nods vacantly as Franky puts an arm around him and helps him to his feet, then walks with him in the direction of the bathroom for a few paces. He shakes himself awake and gives Franky a nudge to indicate he can make it the rest of the way himself, then heads below deck.
As soon as the bathroom door is shut, he peels off his clothes like they're burning him, trying not to look closely at how thoroughly his white shirt is stained red. The hot water is soothing, but it doesn't wash off the feeling that the most familiar and constant force Sanji knows might be snuffed out forever.
Luffy sits in the crow's nest seething, cleaning the grime off Zoro's swords and feeling like they're lodged in his chest.
He tries to be gentle, using the cloth Brook gave him and never scrubbing too hard, but truthfully he wants to break something. They hurt his swordsman, his Zoro. Took his one remaining eye.
It was a dirty move. If he'd lost it in battle that would be one thing, that would be Zoro's own choice to risk life and limb. But instead they ambushed him and chained him up, only drawing blood once he couldn't defend himself.
"Cowards," he mutters through gritted teeth. But it's a small comfort compared to the dread turning in his stomach. He's so full of it he's not even hungry.
He knows Zoro will be able to fight again. He's strong, he still has both his arms and his mouth, and he has some level of observation haki to warn him of movements nearby. It's just...well...
It's selfish, but he still wanted to show Zoro beetles, and look at sunsets with him, and point to weird-shaped clouds when they're bored on the deck of the Sunny. He wanted to share funny grins with him for the rest of forever, and now Zoro won't be able to see him. There's so much he's going to miss.
But worst of all, he knows Zoro will be sad, probably for a long time, and it won't be easy to cheer him up. Maybe not even saké or training or yelling at Sanji will do it. The feeling of helplessness sits heavy in his chest. Zoro isn't captured anymore, but he's still not free. It's just wrong for anyone on his crew to have to feel that way.
He knows Robin only did what made sense when she found Zoro in the cell, beaten and cut, his earrings ripped out like some kind of sick trophy. He can't be upset that she broke every bone in that marine guy's body and left him in a heap on the floor, not giving much thought to whether or not it killed him. It was what the man deserved, and Robin had every right to do it. But the coal fire in Luffy's chest still wishes she'd left him something to finish off. He wanted to take that guy's eyes, leave him fumbling around in the dark and afraid, see how well he went on living. But the man was already bloody and unconscious by the time he got there, and Luffy has no appetite for tormenting defeated enemies. His crew had done enough.
So instead the anger boils in him with nowhere to put it.
The ladder to the crow's nest creaks, and there's a knock at the door. Luffy grunts in response.
Sanji enters, bringing with him the smell of cooked sausage and rice. It should make Luffy's mouth water. Instead he feels slightly sick. When he looks up at his cook, he can tell he's tense, too.
"Wanna eat something?" Sanji asks. "Franky grilled the meat. He made way too much, so you're good to have extra."
Luffy tries to hide that his stomach turns but he knows his frown gives it away. Food makes him happy. He's not ready to feel happy yet when one of his crew is on death's door, and besides, right now meat is a little too reminiscent of cut up flesh.
Sanji rolls his cigarette between his teeth and sighs. "Yeah, me neither."
"Sorry, Sanji," Luffy says with a shrug. He knows his cook feels better when people eat his food.
"S'alright," Sanji mutters. "I'll just put it in the fridge."
Luffy nods, expecting Sanji to leave, but instead he sits down. They both stay there quietly, Luffy smoothing the cloth over the completely clean blades of Zoro's swords, Sanji blowing out puffs of smoke. It's not a peaceful silence, exactly, but it's better than being alone.
"How soon can you feed Zoro, so he can get stronger?" Luffy finally asks.
Sanji looks at the floor, hair shielding his eyes from view.
"I'm not sure," he says. "I don't know if--I don't know when he'll wake up. Could be days."
Luffy tightens his grip on the sword-cleaning cloth and tries to control his heartbeat. He's been telling himself the injuries probably looked worse than they really were, but...days? Zoro? That worries him. This is his first mate they're talking about. He shouldn't even be thinking about death when it comes to him. Which he isn't. Where did that come from? Never mind. He just needs to be with Zoro.
"I'm gonna go see him," he says firmly.
"Luffy, wait," Sanji protests. "Chopper's barely finished with surgery. It's not time yet."
Luffy shakes his head. "I need to," he repeats, heading for the door. He has to see Zoro's face, or what's left of it. Watch his chest rise and fall. Hear him shift in his sleep. Know he's alive.
Sanji grabs his arm to stop him, glaring when it only stretches. "Hey! It's an infection risk, Luffy. You'll get him sick. Is that what you want?"
Luffy jerks his arm away with an angry grunt and lets it snap back to his side, but he stops in his tracks at the door. He knows Sanji is right. He hates that Sanji is right. He pulls his hat down to shadow his face.
His eyes surprise him by gathering tears as he clenches his fist. The crew needs him to be a strong captain right now, but he can feel himself shrinking back into that crybaby boy he thought he'd finally buried with Ace. The sea is teaching him, now, that he will never really stop being that.
A question pulls on his tongue, trying to crawl out, burning in his throat.
"What if..." he starts, already knowing it's stupid, "what if I've already seen him for the last time?"
Sanji sighs and is silent for a moment, then walks over and puts a hand on his shoulder. "You haven't. That's--that's what I'm choosing to believe. And there's nothing I can do 'til it's proven one way or the other, so I won't stop believing until then."
Luffy nods. He really doesn't know what he'd do without this crew to stand by him. He wraps an arm around Sanji and leans into his side, and the cook hugs him back, patting his shoulder. He notices now that Sanji's body carries a slight tremble, and wraps the other arm around too to hold him tight.
"Zoro's gonna be okay," he says for both of them. "Yeah, he'll be okay."
Consciousness finds Zoro slowly. At first he's not quite sure he's awake, expecting a glimpse of light, before he remembers. He swallows, trying not to panic, and takes a deep breath.
He makes a solid attempt to reach up and touch his face, but he can barely lift his arm off the bed. Right. All the muscles that do that are...yeah.
His whole body feels heavy and sluggish, aching dully but no longer in agony at least. Chopper must have him on the really good stuff.
Speaking of Chopper, there's a fuzzy warmth at his side, leaned against his shoulder and breathing quietly. Poor kid. He probably wore himself out stitching Zoro's body back together before it was too far gone. From his prior experiences with badly torn ligaments, they often need surgery, and he was cut in at least 4, 5...6 places? He doesn't remember clearly, and he'd rather not try to relive the experience to count.
He takes stock of what he can without moving much, both for his own sake and not to wake Chopper. When he shifts his head he can feel that it's wrapped in bandages, mostly over his eyes, and the skin on his face can stretch without the crust of dried blood.
He can wiggle all his fingers and toes, if only slightly, so not every nerve was severed, and he can tug his wrist just enough to feel an IV in it. The thought of liquid makes him realize that his throat feels like sandpaper. Maybe he should wake the doc after all.
"Chop..." he forces out in a raspy whisper. "C'n you hear me?"
The reindeer shifts next to him with a sleepy noise, then sits up straight.
"Zoro, you're awake! How are you feeling? Can you move all your limbs? It's normal if they're weak, but they shouldn't be completely numb. Please tell me if anything feels wrong."
"I c'n move," Zoro assures him. "S'okay Chopper. Y' did good."
Chopper lets out a sigh of relief and nuzzles Zoro's neck. "We were so worried when we found you like that. There was so much blood, and--" he sniffles, "Zoro, I'm so sorry. I couldn't...I couldn't save your eye."
Zoro swallows slowly.
"I know, Chop," he says, though it still doesn't feel real. He moves his arm just enough to press Chopper closer against him, feeling the reindeer tremble and hearing him start to sob. "I's not your fault, y' got that?"
Chopper doesn't answer.
"Chop...?"
"O-okay, got it," he sniffles out.
"Good."
Chopper hugs Zoro's face, which normally would annoy him, but he figures he can give the kid a pass for majorly saving his life.
"C'n I have some water?" he asks, muffled against Chopper's fur.
The reindeer immediately lets go. "Oh, of course! I'll be right back."
A weight moves off the bed with a creak, and then hooves tap across the wooden floor, the door swings open and shut, and all is quiet again.
Zoro swallows against his dry throat.
He's alone. This is the first time he's been alone with no sight. He doesn't like it.
His body tenses and listens for shifts in the air, thinking there could be something in the shadows escaping his notice, and he can't shake the irrational feeling that if he just takes the cloth off his eyes he'll see again. But it's not a blindfold, it's a bandage. His eyes are gone.
He doesn't yet know how he's going to compensate. He's already good at staying alert for sounds, but that might be different once he's dependent on it entirely. His swords he knows by feel, of course, but he'll have to be extra careful. He needs to learn observation haki beyond a passive level, that's for sure. It's going to be a lot of work.
But Zoro isn't afraid of work, just...time. How long will he be out of commission? How many enemies will the crew face that he can't protect them from? If anyone else gets hurt because he can't see, it's unacceptable.
The marine's words echo in his head. "You may wield a sword again if you're lucky, Roronoa, but you will never be the best."
He can't let that be true. His captain needs the best. And if he can't be what his captain needs, well--
He'll always have a place among the crew as friends; he doesn't doubt that. Luffy is far too full of love to choose his crew based solely on utility, and once he chooses someone, they're his forever.
But Zoro doesn't know if he could take it, staying with them like everything's fine but always feeling that burn under his skin for something he once was, masquerading as a fearsome pirate and being...useless.
A swordsman isn't a sailing position. They don't need him to keep the boat running, or find the treasure, or steer through the storms. His only job is to fight and protect.
And now he's broken.
He isn't allowed to stew in his thoughts much longer, because the door suddenly bursts open and sandals slap across the floor.
"Zoro!" Luffy cries, and jumps into the bed next to him, immediately clinging to him like a koala.
Zoro grunts slightly with pain, but the relief at not being alone far exceeds it.
"Hey, Luff," he says, cracking a slight smile despite himself.
"Sanji's making soup for you," Luffy says into the crook of his neck. "He says you can't have booze yet because you're still too hurt, and I told him booze makes you feel better though, but he said we were both idiots and hit me on the head, but I figure you won't be too mad since his soup tastes really good anyway."
"Fair enough."
"Oh, and I cleaned your swords," Luffy continues. "Don't worry, I asked Brook how and he gave me a special cloth and oil and everything. They'll be super shiny next time you use 'em. And I'm clean, too. Sanji said I had to take a bath before I came in here, so I didn't give you sep...spepsi...sepis...uhh, make you sick. Also, we got these for you!"
Zoro guesses with a slight pang that Luffy is holding something up for him to see, as if nothing has changed. He loves him for that. It still hurts.
"I, uh, I can't see that, Luffy," he says quietly.
"Oh, right," Luffy says, his tone also dampening a bit. "It's your earrings. Nami found them, I don't know how. Robin says she can smell gold. That's probably right. Anyway, she beat up the guy who took 'em, but she says she's adding their worth in beri to your debt."
Zoro snorts softly. "No interest? She must really feel bad for me."
Luffy laughs, then sighs.
"We were all really worried," he admits.
Zoro isn't sure what to say to that. He's afraid to confess they were justified, confirm the fact that he's not invincible after all.
"Well, I'm alright," is all he says.
Luffy fully buries his face in his neck, unruly hair brushing against his skin. He never cared what Luffy's hair looked like, but now it hurts when he remembers he'll never be able to look at it again.
He uses what strength he has to hold his captain closer, and lets out a quiet sigh.
"Luffy..." he starts, "you...you're gonna have to be more careful for a while, okay? I can't--it might take some time before I...work again. Protecting the crew is up to you for now. The cook, too. He's the only one as strong as me. But you're the captain, so you're in charge of it the most."
Luffy nods against his shoulder.
"I know," he says. "I won't let anyone else get hurt."
The edge in his voice makes Zoro realize he feels responsible for his misfortune. He shouldn't. Zoro knows his role is to be in the line of fire, and he chooses it every day. He's the crew's greatest weapon, and no one says a weapon should be protected from battle. Properly cared for, yes, but even then...sometimes they just break.
He thinks of that dreadful drop in his stomach on the deck of Baratie, when two of his swords shattered against Mihawk's. Good blades, but they went up against more than they could take, and they couldn't stand the pressure. He can't help but wonder if that's what he is now. And if he breaks here...how can he expect to make it to his dream?
"Zoro's gonna get better," Luffy says, as if reading his thoughts.
"I know," Zoro says.
"But you're scared you won't."
"I'm not scared."
Luffy slowly reaches down to hold Zoro's hand.
"It's okay, you know. I get scared, too. I was really scared when Sanji brought you to the Sunny, and you--you were--" Luffy's voice begins to crack. "I forgot people had that much blood inside them. But you're alive. And as long as you're alive, everything will turn out alright."
Zoro silently sighs at the simplicity of that, and yet he knows there's a desperate avoidance of a nightmare behind it, too. Luffy has always been able to save people...as long as they don't bleed out.
He won't let Luffy go through that again. He'll prove him right, that if he just keeps breathing, there's hope.
"Thanks, Captain," he tells him. And for now, there's nothing more to say.