Warnings: Still swearing. Second OP fic and a first attempt at Hurt/Comfort at that.
Disclaimer: OP doesn't belong to me. No infringement intended. No profit gained.
Note: Written as a birthday gift
---
"Shit." Sanji muttered, stomping through the crowded streets with much vehemence, such that people who noticed his countenance were quick to scurry out of his way. Unfortunately, there were many more oblivious people. Sanji shoved through the men and dodged the ladies, reminding himself repeatedly that he was not to give in to his temptation and send all of them—the men, of course—flying with a few well-placed kicks, even if he felt like his head was going to split open any moment.
A commotion rose behind him, and he almost couldn't bring himself to care, but at a woman's distressed cry he stopped and clenched down on his cigarette, shifting the bags of foodstuff on his aching shoulders as he turned towards the little encirclement of leering thugs.
He was going to make them feel his pain.
---
When he finally made his way onto the Going Merry, he was dragging his feet. His legs were feeling uncharacteristically out of strength, threatening to collapse him as the pain in his stomach escalated, but he was too focused on trying not to throw up to notice.
He was aware of a flash of green just outside his vision and didn't spare him a second glance, but straightened, just a little, before heading into the galley and depositing his luggage with relief.
"Got beaten up pretty bad din'ya."
Sanji snarled something incoherent as he trudged past the previously motionless body mass. Couldn't the idiot leave him alone for once?
There was a moment of satisfying albeit unusual silence.
"Hey—"
"Go back to sleep." He snapped as he slammed the door to the sleeping quarters behind him.
---
Zoro had cracked an eye open out of reflex more than anything else when he felt someone approaching, with all intention to fall back asleep after catching sight of whoever is returning, but the plan was blown to hell when he saw the state the cook was in.
Startled awake, he watched the cook strut stiffly into the galley and narrowed his eyes. Whatever could make the cook look so beaten up had to be a pretty damn strong opponent, even if the visible injuries were few and seemingly unthreatening, the cook looked badly pretty damn worn out. He half expected Usopp to run screaming back any moment now but the ship remained empty except for the two of them.
The cook had exited the galley and was still ignoring him. Zoro was tempted to return the favour but damn it was hard to go back to sleep with something bothering him.
"Got beaten up pretty bad din'ya."
He affected a nonchalant, challenging tone and waited for the heated rebuttal.
The cook snarled and walked past him.
It was disappointing and abnormal.
At a sudden loss of how to react, he watched the cook head towards the sleeping quarters dumbly before remembering that he hadn't gotten his answers.
"Hey—" he started again.
"Go back to sleep." The door slammed.
Zoro stared at the closed door in bewilderment. The cook was weird, but this was extraordinary. Briefly, he considered taking up his suggestion. Whatever the cook's problem was, surely he would be happier pouring it out to Nami, or even Usopp. Luffy could force it out of him too. It really was none of his business.
So thinking, he shut his eyes determinedly.
---
Sanji curled up on the sofa he'd fallen facedown onto, indulging in a soft groan in the privacy of the otherwise empty room, groping blindly for a discarded blanket and wrapping it over himself. Fuck but he hadn't felt so ill in ages. The last—and only other—time was not long after Baratie began business.
Sanji clenched his fists on the bed, wheezing. There were only a few other cooks on the Baratie and there was no way he was letting them to find him like this.
Weak.
Helpless.
Unworthy of the position of Assistant Head Chef.
He gritted his teeth and swallowed, his parched throat burning. He was young, he would pull through this and be up and about in the morning. He just needed to get through tonight—
Sanji blinked, disorientated, before realizing that it was the sound of the door opening that had disrupted his thoughts. For a brief moment, he entertained the thought of beautiful Nami-san coming to him and cooing in her sweet, sweet voi—
"Ero-cook."
Sanji shut his eyes tightly as if it would make the harshness of reality go away.
It didn't.
He kept them shut anyway. Maybe he'd believe he was sleeping and leave him be.
No such luck.
He cracked one eye open to glare at the man. "Go away." Damn, his voice broke. "We're on land so go find yourself a restaurant if you're hungry." He growled when Zoro only cocked his eyebrow further. "And lose your way while you're at it." He added for good measure before disappearing under the blanket.
The door open and closed again after a moment, and Sanji squeezed his eyes shut.
Stupid Marimo.
---
He drifted back into consciousness for the countless time, barely aware of his surroundings. He moaned as the ship rocked, triggering a sharp burst of pain in his tortured head.
He was dying. He was sure of it.
Before he could see All Blue.
Before he gave the shitty old man back what he owed him.
He stared at the ceiling of his little room and listened to the familiar sound of the waves.
---
"Here."
He startled awake and was readying himself to snap at the source of the voice when he saw what was unceremoniously thrust before his face.
"…"
"…"
"What's this?" He squinted suspiciously at the bowl.
A snort. "Broth. And you call yourself a cook."
Sanji bristled, but a wave of dizziness prevented him from voicing his ire. He settled for growling instead, which got another raised eyebrow from Zoro.
"Who—YOU DIDN'T DESTROY MY KITCHEN DID YOU SHITTY SWORDSMAN?"
Zoro stepped away while grunting in annoyance, "You're fucking feisty for a sick person." He rolled his eyes when Sanji continued to glare threateningly at him, even while wheezing from the effort of yelling. "It's still in one piece."
The silence stretched when Sanji just stared at the wall away from him, unmoving. Starting to feel silly, Zoro snorted again and turned.
A cold hand gripped his, raising goosebumps.
"Where're you taking that?" The cook's voice croaked.
Zoro shrugged. "Dumping it into the ocean."
The grip tightened even as the head remained lowered. "Don't you DARE."
Zoro started to grin. "Why? Do you want it?"
The head lifted to reveal a baleful single eye before it lowered again. The silence returned.
Finally, the head of gold hair nodded once, slightly.
With eyebrows raised, Zoro opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, shoving the bowl towards the cook, who took it this time.
"Drink it and sleep some more. When the others are back we'll send for a doctor."
---
When he next woke, it was to the feel of cool water sliding down his throat. He thrashed around in confusion only to be pushed firmly down onto his bed.
"Stupid kid."
The features were set in the usual disapproving frown he knew so well but the familiar gruff voice was unfamiliar in its softness.
He started to protest but found himself glared down.
"Drink this up and go to sleep till the doctor's here.
A warm bowl was put into his hands, and the aroma that escaped when he lifted the lid made his stomach growl. He hadn't realized how hungry he was.
When his vision blurred, he blamed it on the steam.
---
Sanji stared into the bowl, rolling the contents around experimentally while Zoro settled down against the opposite wall looking every bit like he was going to take his own suggestion.
He took a sip.
"… This sucks."
"Shut up."
-end-
Date started: 11 December 2006
Date completed: 11 December 2006