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"We're going in circles."
"No, we aren't, because we're not lost. Dramatic bitch." Zoro snapped, hacking at the reaching bramble vines he nearly walked face first into for the millionth time.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Can't-walk-in-a-straight-line has an opinion on our whereabouts?" Sanji kicked a rock so hard it left a dent in the tree it hit. "This is all your fault anyways, so maybe just keep your damn mouth shut."
"How is this my fault?!" He slashed a path through the overgrown blackberry bushes surrounding them. If overgrown was a strong enough word for the sprawling tangle of branches and thorns that seemed to strangle the nearby trees.
They were in a little clearing of sunlight in a dense forest smack in the middle of a sparsely populated island. The bushes were obviously hostile to sharing their space, and teemed with heavy, midnight black berries.
Sanji's fingers were already stained a delightful purple. The trees lining the edges of the clearing had huge leaves the size of his torso, so he took it upon himself to pack a few makeshift satchets worth as he snacked. He'd make a lovely tart with them if they ever found the damn beach again.
This was, of course, the fourth time they happened upon the same bramble patch. The first time was a lovely accident, the second was confusing, and by the third, Sanji was ready to string Zoro up by his large intestine.
Tracking an animal, he said. I can follow the prints, he said. Well, they were still short on fresh meat for dinner, and the sun wasn't getting any higher in the sky. Might as well cut their losses, right?
Except neither of them could find the way to the tiny dock where the Sunny was moored. Every path they took just led them straight back to the blackberries, which Sanji might've been only reasonably irritated about if not for the fact that he was wearing cargo shorts and a tee shirt, and thorns kept catching his bare limbs.
All those little abrasions made him so unbearably itchy, which in turn made him angrier, so then he noticed the itch even more. It was a vicious cycle. His only consolation was that Zoro had chosen to go shirtless in the nice weather, and had to deal with his tits being torn to shreds by all the thorns.
"Just stop talking so I can concentrate." Sanji griped, pinching his brow. "And quit that! You're wasting the berries."
"They'll just become new bushes, idiot. I'm doing the plant a favor."
"So you speak plant now, do you? Like how you can follow tracks?"
"Fuck you!" Zoro snarled, getting right up in his face. "I know there's an animal around here somewhere, I'll show you!"
To his credit, Sanji had also seen telltale signs of something big and bulky ambling through the undergrowth. There were trees with bald spots on the bark, droppings, big paw prints.
But he was still pissed about getting lost. Sanji didn't have the humility needed to admit Zoro was right. "Not anymore with the way you're yelling, dumbass!"
"What's your fucking problem?" Zoro got right up in his face, Wado at the ready. If he thought they were gonna fight in a bramble patch, he had another thing coming, but Sanji admired his tenacity.
"My problem? Let's see, the sun's going down, we're still no closer to finding the Sunny," He jabbed his finger into Zoro's chest with each listed reason. "And if we don't get there in time for dinner, Luffy's gonna use Gear 3 on the goddamn fridge!"
Zoro slapped his hand away, gritting his teeth in defiance. "So that's all somehow my fault?"
"No, it's my fault for thinking you'd be useful."
That was needlessly cruel. Zoro was an excellent hunter, he used to make a living off tracking people down, and it showed in his finesse for catching good prey. If he was terrible, Sanji wouldn't have bothered asking him to come along.
But it wasn't like he could just take back what he said. Or like Zoro would just take the insult without biting in return.
He expected the shove, but the brambles at their feet were tangled, thick and snagging on his ankles. Sanji stumbled a bit, took a step back to steady himself, and felt something click beneath his right foot.
For a few seconds, Sanji didn't understand what was wrong. He heard the noise that followed the click, a jarring, metallic sound of metal on metal that scared away what few birds hadn't already scattered from their yelling. And his body certainly registered a source of pain. But he didn't know what happened.
Sanji stared at Zoro, who was just as unsettled and confused as he was, then looked down at his foot.
Clamped around his bare calf was a large, rusty bear trap. Blood was already flowing down his ankle, seeping into his once playfully patterned sock, and the leg was bent just slightly at the wrong angle.
As if waiting for his eyes to confirm it, Sanji's body rushed to give him access to all the sensations that came with the trap. Most of them were painful. Hot, stabbing agony from the metal piercing his muscle, a throbbing ache in his definitely broken bone, and sharp lightning zaps running up the rest of the limb to scold him for tensing.
His mouth fell open like he was about to scream, but all that came out was a soft, high pitched whimper.
Wado fell from Zoro's lax grip, driving into the dirt. Or was it placed there purposefully? He didn't know. All Sanji could think about was the pain, for which he had no reference to compare it to, demanding his full attention.
"I didn't-" Zoro started, strangely choked up. What, didn't mean to? Didn't know? Of course he didn't, neither of them did. It was an accident.
But his mind couldn't seem to grasp the fact that it happened at all. Sanji hadn't braced himself to feel pain, because he wasn't in a fight, he was just bickering with a friend. So he was left confused and scared, like a child being winded for the first time.
He reached for the only source of comfort he could think of. Zoro caught him by the elbows, bracing to take some of Sanji's body weight off his leg. When that alone wasn't enough to keep him upright, he crowded in closer and held Sanji's arms tighter.
"You're okay." Zoro said hurriedly, as if he'd start to believe his own words if he got them out fast enough. "You're fine, it's not as bad as it looks."
Sanji couldn't catch his breath. He tried, but every time he inhaled too deeply, he felt it in the crushed bones of his leg, the torn muscles still trying to keep him upright.
"Marimo."
"Nothing the doc can't fix. We just gotta get that off you, and-"
"I don't think it's that simple." He whispered, trying his damndest not to pay attention to the crimson smeared in his peripheral.
Zoro's near frantic voice died down, leaving them to soak in what went unsaid. They both knew anatomy, albeit for different reasons. Too many arteries ran right through the area crushed between steel jaws, and he was already bleeding heavily.
If they removed the trap, Sanji would bleed out long before they found their way back to the Sunny.
"Shit." Jaw clenching, Zoro looked around to reassess his options. Then he paused, and glanced at Sanji almost shamefully before he let go of one elbow to wrap his arm around Sanji's waist.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Sanji yelped, face burning red hot at the sudden shift in position. He felt the arm tighten, then begin to lift him, and panicked even more.
"Quit squirming and fucking help me." The bastard bit out, obviously trying to hold Sanji's weight himself. "You're the only one wearing a belt."
That made him stop trying to shove Zoro's face away, and he glanced down at his waist. Oh, well, that wasn't actually a terrible idea. If they could successfully tourniquet his leg, then moving him wouldn't be so dangerous.
He hesitantly wrapped his free arm around Zoro's shoulder, grimacing at how warm and sweaty his skin was. Sanji leaned his weight more into the steady wall of muscle in front of him instead of on his own feet.
As soon as the weight was no longer on his broken leg, Sanji could feel how the trap was tearing and pulling at his muscles. Weighing him down like an anchor. And it hurt so terribly that he couldn't breathe, ripping his other arm out of Zoro's grip to bury his face in his friend's neck so he wouldn't have to think about the feeling of multiple steel teeth digging into his flesh.
Zoro was silent for a moment, frozen in shock. When he did move, his arm around Sanji's waist squeezed that much tighter. With his free hand, he reached between them to tug the belt loose.
"Got it." He muttered, as if Sanji couldn't feel the leather sliding out of his shorts. When Sanji didn't immediately let go, Zoro gave a curious hum.
"Gimme a second." Sanji said, breathless from the agony pulsing up his leg. After twenty whole seconds, which he counted to try to take his mind off the pain, he realized it wasn't going to get better any time soon. "Um, I don't think… I can't stand on my own anymore."
It felt like admitting to weakness, or a fatal flaw. Sanji scrunched his eyes shut as he waited for Zoro's response, still clinging to him like a child. This whole situation was the worst.
"Yeah, no shit." Zoro said, his words harsh but his tone painfully understanding. "Do you know how to apply a tourniquet?"
"Only in theory." Sanji admitted, peeling himself away from Zoro's chest. But he couldn't go far, because the arm wrapped across his waist was still tense, holding most of his weight up despite the awkward positioning.
"I think if I kneel a certain way, I'll be able to support you and place the tourniquet myself."
"If you what?"
Instead of explaining himself like a normal person would, Zoro began to shift downward. He still held tight to Sanji, though as he started to work himself into a kneeling position, he moved to hold Sanji's thighs rather than his waist. It must've been difficult to keep holding the weight of a whole person as he did so.
Not that Sanji was sympathetic, swiftly realizing what he was about to do. God, this was so fucking humiliating. Was it not enough to have his leg crushed? Did he also have to deal with a sweaty, half naked, muscular man kneeling at his feet and sticking his hands up Sanji's shorts?
"If you make me fall, I'll kill you." He hissed, hands clutching Zoro's shoulders, only kind of deflecting from his other concerns. As wobbly as Sanji was, it was a valid threat.
"Yeah, yeah. Relax." Zoro shoved the belt between his teeth and hugged Sanji's thighs, kneeling on bramble vines to get closer. His cheek pressed against the left hip, the muscles in his back moving under Sanji's palms from the strain.
But he mustn't have looked before he moved again, because his knee bumped directly into one of the long metal springs that jutted out from either side of the trap.
They both froze, their enmeshed bodies petrified for different reasons. One in guilt, still supporting most of his friend's weight. The other in excructiating agony, nails digging into tense, tan skin.
Though his mouth hung open, Sanji didn't make a single noise. Nor did he move save for that initial jerk away from the source of pain, which only brought retaliatory suffering.
Finally a wet, ragged breath drew through Sanji's lungs, burning his throat. Halfway between a gasp and a wheeze, acidic in nature and sinister in how badly it hurt.
Hearing the sound, Zoro's head shot up just in time to watch as Sanji's eyes rolled back, abandoning his vice grip on those sturdy shoulders in favor of clawing his own mouth shut.
Violent heaving wracked Sanji's body as he fought to keep his stomach on the inside. He nearly capsized right there, but the convulsing kept his abdomen tense enough that he stayed upright.
When it passed, as all horrid things do eventually, Sanji gasped for air like a drowning man. He steadied himself on Zoro's shoulder, wiping the thick drool from his lips with the back of his hand.
Zoro's gaze was a heavy thing, and he was already so close to tipping over. Sanji scowled, exhausted and still in pain, wishing that he was just having an extremely realistic nightmare.
"M'not gonna puke on you." He said hoarsely, glaring at the accursed berry bushes because he refused to meet that obviously judgemental stare. "And if I can't stop it next time, I'll aim at the bushes."
"That won't happen again."
Sanji glanced down at the sound of Zoro's slightly muffled voice, finding only burning sincerity in his expression.
"I won't make that mistake twice." Zoro reiterated, teeth digging into Sanji's leather belt like it was Wado's handle. "Understand?"
He nodded, miserable that it had to be said, but glad that Zoro took the time to make it known. Sanji didn't want to go through that again.
After a bit more careful maneuvering, Zoro was positioned in a rather embarrassing way, his knees bracketing Sanji's good leg from the side, cheek flush against the front of his left thigh.
"Getting real woozy here, Moss." He warned, listing without giving his body permission to do so.
"Alright." Zoro patted the inside of his leg, making him jump and hiss in pain at the same time. He gave an irritated huff in return. "I'm not gonna let you fall, so just lean already."
Currently incapable of delicate movements, Sanji slumped heavily into the offered support. And when he found it sturdy enough to hold him, he relaxed even more. It was so exhausting to stand for some reason.
Oh right, because he was actively bleeding out.
Sword-rough fingers slid under the right hem of his shorts, pushing the fabric up and out of the way. He grabbed the bunched material at Zoro's request, resolutely ignoring how his entire face burned, right up to the tips of his ears.
Looping the belt over Sanji's now bare thigh, Zoro scrunched his brow in concentration. He threaded it, wrapped the strap around his fist, and held the buckle in place.
"Ready?"
"No." Sanji answered honestly, starting to feel considerably lightheaded. "Do it anyway."
Zoro cinched it with a single forceful jerk of his fist, pushing the metal peg against the corner of the buckle so it'd hold tight. And even as the pain screamed its way through Sanji's nerves, he couldn't help but admire how efficient all of Zoro's actions were.
Still on his knees, Zoro began to rummage through the foliage that had previously covered the abandoned trap. He paid little mind to the thorns catching his skin, one hand holding Sanji round the waist, the other wrist deep in vines.
"Gotcha." He hissed triumphantly, pulling out a thick metal chain that must've connected to the trap.
Zoro gave the end that didn't lead to Sanji's broken leg a harsh tug, and they followed the taut line to the base of a tree at the edge of the clearing.
"Hand me Wado."
Sanji blinked, staring at the white sword still nose down in the dirt, and reached for it with a trembling hand. He was so happy to not drop it that he gave a quiet cheer, much to Zoro's amusement.
"Never had to place one on someone else before." He remarked casually, cutting through the metal chain without any difficulty. When that admittedly worrisome sentence got no response, Zoro looked up in concern. "You alright up there, Curly?"
Having just come to terms with the fact that there was no way to remove the trap before they headed back, Sanji swallowed a mouth full of thick saliva. If they tried and found out an artery was indeed severed, the tourniquet would be useless.
He was going to have to go all the way back to the Sunny with a bear trap hanging from his leg. "Think I'm gonna be sick."
And, true to his word, he was. But he lurched away from Zoro's hold to do so, nearly falling to his knees if not for the swordsman's quick reflexes.
"Fucking idiot, I'd rather you throw up all over me than break your leg even more!" Zoro snarled, back on his feet and holding Sanji round the middle.
He laughed at that mental image until he felt sick again, stomach churning and throat closing up. Then Sanji began to cry.
Not the weepy, embarrassing wails he let out whenever he got too emotional. Nor the rage fueled, red faced sobs born of endless frustration.
This kind of crying did not elicit a sound, because he knew better than that. Nothing good ever came from vocally admitting he was in pain.
So the tears, as thick and frequent as they were, came silently. He did not sniffle, his breath didn't hitch, he didn't tremble or whine. Sanji just stared blankly into the blackberry thicket as hot tears streaked down his face.
When he realized why Sanji got so quiet, Zoro almost let go of his waist. His hands twitched, then tightened, like they only just remembered what they were doing.
Clearing his throat, Zoro didn't try to meet Sanji's dull stare. Seems he understood that Sanji had absolutely no desire to speak about it whatsoever. Thank god.
"This is gonna suck." He warned, earning a gentle scoff. As though it didn't already? "Here, grab my shoulders."
Sanji shuffled in place as Zoro turned his back to him, taking a second to discreetly wipe his face. The tears hadn't stopped, but there was little he could do about that now.
Lowering himself to make it easier, Zoro reached back and wrapped his hands behind both of Sanji's knees, the touch sending an unpleasant shiver up his spine. "On three, jump with your good foot and I'll lift your bad one."
"Wait, on three or after?"
"On, smartass!"
Zoro was right, it really did suck. He nearly let go when his broken leg was hoisted up, the bear trap a heavy, unforgiving anchor that swung where it pleased and didn't care what it hit against.
Pressing flush to Zoro, a fresh wave of tears poured down his face. Vision spotty and stomach turning, Sanji prayed to whatever was out there to let him keep the simple dignity of not vomiting all down his friend's bare back.
"You good?"
"Yep!" He wheezed, unable to think of anything but the pulsing, excructiating pain. Any minute now, and he'd keel over dead from a heart attack instead of blood loss.
Zoro didn't give him time to adjust to the new position, likely understanding that to wait was to prolong his suffering. He asked for a direction, and Sanji hissed for him to just start walking. They were on a fucking island, how hard could it be to find the beach?
Extremely hard.
Over an hour of wandering, they were still in the woods, and Sanji was starting to see strange shapes in his peripherals. He was dripping blood, and to Zoro's credit, any time they came across the obvious trail he was leaving behind, the swordsman would make an executive decision to go a different way.
"Marimo." He mumbled, lax against his friend's spine. "Hey, pay attention real quick, Mosshead."
Zoro grunted, having stopped talking over half an hour ago. Maybe less. Sanji really wasn't good at telling time at the moment. But he knew the poor moss was getting frustrated from the way he was starting to make more impulsive calls on direction, once even circling all the way around a single tree to go back the way they came.
"I don't actually think you're useless."
He caught the back of his own boot and nearly ate shit, which would've taken Sanji down with him. Zoro quickly righted himself like nothing happened. "Careful there, cook. That almost sounded like a compliment."
"Don't get ahead of yourself." Sanji drawled, head knocking against Zoro's. They both winced at the impact. "I just, I didn't mean what I said. Before all this."
Zoro slowed to a less frenzied pace, and gently tapped the side of his head to Sanji's, managing to successfully do what Sanji failed to seconds before. Then he worked his jaw as he thought about what he wanted to say, and readjusted Sanji to a more comfortable position.
"What's done is done. I can't undo it, but I wish I could."
"I know." Sanji whispered.
That was the closest Zoro would get to saying he was sorry, because he didn't believe verbal platitudes could ever make up for one's actions.
"For what it's worth, I already forgave you." He said, something he meant to keep to himself. But Sanji's head was fuzzy, and his tongue loose, and Zoro looked remarkably easy to talk to in the dappled forest light.
"When?" The way Zoro asked it, as though he was accusing Sanji of something, was deeply endearing. How could somebody be so against forgiveness when it was freely given?
"Soon as it happened, I guess."
"You shouldn't have." Zoro stated, like it was a fact instead of an opinion.
"No?" He tried to smile, but the pain was a constant annoyance at the front of his mind. "Why not? Who are you to decide what I can or can't forgive?"
"Cook, I broke your fucking leg."
Hearing the genuine guilt in his friend's voice gave him a stomach ache. "It was an accident."
"I pushed you right into it." He spit, clearly internalizing everything he's said thus far.
"Wasn’t like you set the damn thing."
"You didn't say anything worth this kind of retaliation."
"Zoro!" Sanji snapped, his nails digging into tanned flesh. He was in too much pain to deal with this unwarranted guilt. "Sometimes bad shit just happens, okay? There's no reason or person to blame, you just gotta grit your teeth and deal with it."
"You don't think I know that?" He hiked Sanji up, muttering a warning before he adjusted his leg. His hands were warm against the underside of Sanji's thighs, his heartbeat like a metronome dragging Sanji's own racing pulse into a more manageable rhythm.
"I'm just saying I don't blame you." Cheek against Zoro's shoulder, Sanji heaved a big sigh. His leg was starting to throb in a new, unwanted way. "Today was good. Aside from the obvious, of course."
"Good?" Zoro drawled. "You were bitching from the minute we left the ship."
"Doesn't mean that I wasn't having a good time." He happened to glance to the side as he spoke, and immediately smacked Zoro in excitement. "Look, the ocean!"
The beautiful, glorious, wonderful ocean, and the Sunny within view down the beach. He could've cried. He might've.
As they walked up the beach, Sanji gave Zoro a quick squeeze to catch his attention. "If anyone asks, I wasn't looking where I was walking."
"That's not what happened."
"It is now." He murmured, staring at the Sunny with exhausted longing. "Just do this one thing for me, okay? Don't tell anyone."
The silence that answered him was roughly what he expected, but Sanji still didn't relax until Zoro gave a gruff nod.
He was glad that of all their friends, Zoro was the one who kept him company during all this. There was no one else he could picture helping him deal with this mess. "Thank you."
"Don't," Zoro snarled harshly, grip tightening on his legs. "Not for this."
Still, his gratitude couldn't be erased so easily. Sanji bumped their heads together, and wondered if this newfound closeness was something he could get used to.