Disclaimer: BLAH BLAH BLAH You know the drill.
/Emphasized words/
'Thoughts'
"Talking"
Narrative
"Multiple people saying some thing at the same time."
/"What happened? Zoro! What the hell happened?"
"Nothing. Nothing happened... Nothing at all."/
When Sanji had come running back to the rest of the group panicked and carrying a half dead Zoro in his arms, pandemonium struck. Shrill screams and shouts could be heard as the rest of the crew saw the kenshi's state.
3 hours, a few pints of blood and many tears later, he was finally stable. Chopper had been in surgery the entire time, desperately trying to save him, grasping onto the man's life and shielding him from the looming figure of death. Not yet. He wouldn't let him have Zoro just yet.
Setting bloodstained hooves down on the table, Chopper finally let himself come to terms. Being a doctor meant cutting off your emotions to properly function and work on what you were doing. And though Chopper may not have been the best at that sometimes, in a critical situation, there was no doubt he would do his job.
But now was the down time- the relative calm after the storm when people came out from their shelters to asses the damage done.
Trembling violently, the small reindeer lowered his head over the table, loud and pained sobs wracking his tiny body. Dried blood flaked off his hooves as they twitched and curled in tight fists on the wooden surface of the table. Tears streaming down his furry face, Chopper let out a loud wail- a scream, a cry, a plea to god. For Zoro and Zoro's life and Zoro's health and please just let him be okay...
The child heard soft steps behind him, but didn't turn or look up. He didn't react as gentle hands wrapped themselves around his petit body. Finally when he was pulled to a warm chest, he broke, crying and screaming and gasping for all he was worth as he clutched to Robin's shirt like a lifeline.
And though Robin herself wanted someone to hold her as she cried heart wrenching sobs, she simply continued to hold him, quiet tears streaming down her cheeks.
Hat tilted, hands clenched, shoulders shaking- the crew, Zoro's Nakama, stood silently as they listened to Chopper's broken screams. Droplets splashed on the wooden floor, hands scrubbing furiously at already reddened faces to rid the skin of any evidence.
But there were no other sounds, save for the cracking of the little boy's fractured sanity. Because they couldn't show weakness. Because they had to endure. Because they had to believe. Because they had to be strong.
Just like Zoro had been.