A/N: I wanted to write something for Halloween. So have… this… Whatever this is. I hope you guys like it :)
The sharp stench of blood pierced the air. Sanji's eyes flickered open, focusing on a plain white ceiling through the darkness. Something cold and wet slicked between the sheets. Sanji willed his arms to move, but they wouldn't budge.
Great. Fucking sleep paralysis.
He closed his eyes, forced his consciousness back to sleep. But the damp seeped through to his clothes and clung to his skin. It was as though he was submerged in thick, shallow water. Sanji wrinkled his nose as the smell grew stronger, and his eyes flickered open again. The muscles of his neck loosened, and he looked down.
Red stained the white bed sheets. The blood spread further and further, consuming white cotton with crimson. Sanji wanted to yell, but his voice clogged in his throat. Air forced itself harshly through his nose. He could feel the thick liquid between his fingers.
C'mon c'mon get up get up.
Sanji begged his limbs to move, but only manages to tilt his head further. Now the room was in his line of sight. Sanji startled, eyes widened as they lay upon the sight of a man stood at the end of his bed. Tanned skin, green hair. Long cuts and gashes covered his body, each one pooled out blood and lumps of flesh. The constant stream of red painted his skin. The man's dark, hollow eyes met Sanji's. Fear triggered movement in Sanji's muscles.
But now the blonde was being held down by something else. He squirmed against it, whimpering and grunting. All the while the bloodied man stood there, and stared. Then the crimson dripped from his bed, to the floor and spread like a lake until blood carpeted the room and the stench became intolerable.
Sanji yelled, screamed, kicked against the invisible weight that kept him pinned to the bed, as the white walls slowly disappeared into the crimson pool.
"What do you want?" shouted Sanji, panic forced tears to well in his eyes. "What the fuck do you want?"
Nothing. Nothing but those soulless eyes engulfing Sanji, just as blood engulfed the room
"Sanji! Sanji!"
The blonde jerked awake, gasping for breath. He found himself sprawled on the floor of the hospital room, still partly tangled in bed sheets. Delicate fingers dug into his shaking shoulders, and Sanji looked up to a beautiful face, framed by bright auburn hair.
"Sanji, what the fuck?" muttered Nami. Worry etched a frown deep into her soft features.
Sanji breathed out harshly and pulled himself away from her grasp, grabbing the edge of the bed to lift himself up from the floor. His legs wobbled under him, so he leaned on the bed with one arm, while fumbled around the bedside table for his lighter and pack of smokes with the other.
Nami sighed and slumped back on her knees, glancing away in thought. She saw him. Of course she saw him. But that was one of the reasons why Nami was allowed to see him and no one else. She wouldn't bring it up, especially not so soon after another episode.
Hands finally gripping around his lighter and cigarettes, Sanji shoved both into his pockets and stumbled towards the open doorway.
"I need a smoke," he muttered.
"Chopper's gonna give you hell for it," Nami called after him, but he was too far gone down the corridor to reply.
He hated leaving her and ignoring her like that, but he desperately needed to smoke away the nightmares still fresh in his waking head.
Sanji thanked the cool night air that kissed the sweat clinging to his skin as he exited the hospital and hobbled over to the smoker's corner. His fingers trembled as he struggled to light up. But as the arid smoke hit his lungs, he breathed it all out and evened out his nerves.
He closed his eyes, listening the distant chatter of doctors and patients coming from the open windows above, and the crack of the road under ambulance tires as they rolled in and out of the hospital. But the peace was disrupted as the image of the bloodied man flickered in his head.
Sanji grimaced, the smell of blood still lingering in his nostrils. His stomach churned and he fought down the nausea with another long drag of smoke. Turning, he caught his reflection on the glass surface of a window. His face looked as bad as he felt, with his left eye swollen over and almost shut, and a lovely purple bruise that blotched his pale skin. Where his shirt buttons had popped off, Sanji saw the edges of a bandage wrap around his chest. It itched against his skin.
He sighed, wondering if he should feel better or worse for coming out of a fight the way he had. On one hand, he didn't break any of his limbs and it felt like all his teeth were still in tact. On the other, was a wrecked face and a stab wound to the gut worth protecting his lovely ladies for?
Sanji chuckled. Of course it was. The moment anything bad looked like it was going to happen to the girls, Sanji was prepared to lay his life down for them. Except he wouldn't just go out without a bang, as the thugs that jumped them promptly found out. Sanji wasn't normally one to brag, but he would have been lying if he didn't admit to feeling proud and a little badass at taking down the lot of them with a knife hanging out of his gut.
But it did mean he was back here again. The hospital. The last place he ever wanted be. It was the place where he saw the most. Where so many people's lives hung in such a delicate balance, like walking on a tightrope, and where countless others have lost theirs but refuse to leave this plane of existence just yet.
Sanji shuddered as the bloodied man came back to his mind. That would explain such a vivid nightmare. Some people just weren't content with leaving this world without having their presence known. Like leaving a room and slamming the door behind you to get attention, the man in his nightmares probably just wanted to do the as similar thing. And spectres could only do that to people who could see.
Stubbing out his spent cigarette, Sanji lit up a new one, drowning his churning gut and frayed nerves in nicotine. He hated it. His mother had told him it was a gift, before she'd joined the others that haunted him. He may have accepted it too, if it didn't stunt his living of life itself so much. Not many people could say they still saw the spectre of their long dead mother out of the corner of their eyes, passing doorways and disappearing down corridors. Least of all, people who said they could see and remained sane. Yes, he hated it. But there was little he could do about it, and that was the worst part.
The familiar clack of heels caught his attention, and Sanji looked up to see Robin, in all her tall and slender beauty and grace, striding towards him.
"Miss Robin," he greeted her with a smile, which she returned.
"Nami told me you'd woken up."
Sanji groaned. "It's so late. The two of you shouldn't have stayed here just for me."
Robin shook her head. "We sent Usopp and Luffy to make sure Kaya and Vivi got home alright. Nami insisted on staying, and I didn't feel right leaving her alone here."
Sanji grinned. "Ah, what would I do without my lovely ladies? You're both as caring and kind-hearted as ever."
"Well, I can't speak for Nami. I'm sure she's expecting some form of compensation for this," said Robin, her smile turning into a wolfish grin. "But I certainly am caring, and because of that, I'll have to do this."
She reached over and plucked the cigarette from between the blonde's fingers, dropping it on the floor and stubbing it out. Sanji let out a disappointed groan as he watched the cherry turn to ash under her high-heels.
"I also came here to tell you to head back inside," added Robin. "Chopper has been running around the ward in distress looking for you."
Sanji nodded, and pushed himself off the railing he was leaning on. "Don't tell him I smoked, please."
"I won't have to. You know our little doctor has the nose of a bloodhound. He'll find out either way."
Sanji nodded glumly and allowed the fair Robin to escort him back to the room he'd escaped from. All the way there, he kept his eyes to the floor, watching his leather shoes tapping against the white tiles. It didn't help, of course, because he could still sense them there. The spectres, lost and amiably floating around as they clung to this world. But sensing them was never as bad as actually catching a glimpse of those lost and hollow eyes.
"Sanji!" Chopper's screech startled him. "Where the hell have you been?"
He gave the little doctor a sheepish smile. "Sorry, uh, just had to step out for a bit."
"After I just patched up your stab wound?" He wailed. "What if you pulled your stitches? And…"
His voice trailed off and he moved closer to Sanji, sniffing.
"Were you smoking?"
Sanji grimaced and glanced at Robin, who only shook her head. There was no saving him from this.
"Hey, force of habit," he shrugged, shuffling on his feet under his friend's scrutinising glare.
Chopper huffed and folded his arms. Granted, he was a couple of years younger than Sanji, a trainee doctor and dwarfed under his white coat, looked even more child-like than usual, but when it came to his patients, Chopper matured and got stricter than any adult Sanji had ever known.
"Alright, no more smoke breaks for you," said Chopper. "And you should really be in bed. I know it wasn't a big wound, but pulling the stitches are still troublesome."
"Hey, I'm fine now, right?" Sanji pleaded. "Can't I just go home?"
"No!" Chopper screeched.
Sanji flinched and he heard Robin giggle beside him.
"You're staying here overnight, and we're inspecting your wounds in the morning," added the doctor. "Then, maybe you can go home."
Sanji sighed and grudgingly followed Chopper back to the room. The blonde turned to Robin walking beside him.
"Ah, you don't have to stay, Miss Robin," the blonde cooed. "Although I'd be very happy if you did."
"I'll just make sure you're alright, then I'll take Nami home. Though I think she would rather stay here until you're better. I think she feels she owes you for protecting us."
"It was just my rightful duty, my dear…" Sanji trailed off, stopping as something caught his eye.
"Still, I can think of better outcomes to tonight that what we went through. Sanji?"
He could hear Robin's voice, but he'd long stopped listening. He paused, frozen in the corridor, eyes widened and a tremble started in his muscles. Something rang in his ears, like the jangling of wind chimes, and the warmth drained out of his body as Sanji stared through a window into another room. Lying on a bed, still as a stone and wired to machines was another young man about his age. Tanned skin. Green Hair.
"Sanji?"
He felt Robin's hand on his arm, before his mind descended into darkness.
