Considering how often Zoro dealt with dangerous weapons without fear, there was something very different about a gun. Swords could be deadly. Of course he knew that. But they were also strong, and beautiful. There was a grace and a history to them that couldn't be replicated.
But guns were cold and messy. They were also unforgiving and final. And to see one pointed at his daughter brought him the closest to panic he'd been in a long time.
Even if he was shielding her now, the thought that she was even close to one was enough to have his pulse pound hard enough to make him light-headed, barely-contained rage trembling through his entire body as he stood there. His eyes watched Bones for the slightest of movement, the tiniest twitch of muscles that indicated he was going to pull that trigger, his battle instincts ready to react instantly should he need to.
The other two men had set up the ladder, one of them already climbing to the top so he could begin unscrewing the first Poneglyph panel from the wall.
He couldn't do anything about it, as these bastards stole from one of his best friends right in front of him, and he felt fucking useless.
Tana's hands curled in the back of his jacket, and he was surprised with how gentle her grasp was. She had to be scared, and dammit, she had to be angry with him still, but the way she leaned against him was almost comforting, certainly trusting.
Fuck, it made him want to just turn around and hold her - to make all of this go away, but he couldn't right now, and it was the worst fucking feeling.
There was a faint buzz behind him then, and he vaguely registered that it must have been Tana's phone when he felt her shift uncomfortably, as if she wanted to pick it up, but knew she couldn't. Who would be calling her anyway? Was it Oliver or Thomas from inside the house…?
"I think it's Sanji…" he heard her whisper faintly behind him, and his heart gave a jolt.
Sanji? How did she know? And furthermore, he was okay? He and Tana were in contact? Since when?
It rose far too many questions within him that he couldn't ask. But for some stupid reason, it also sent a powerful relief coursing through him. Sanji hadn't abandoned them. Sanji hadn't forgotten them. Fuck. Something about that restored some of his confidence, made him all the more determined to fight these assholes and win, once and for all.
He reached a hand back behind him subtly, moving slowly and carefully so as not to trigger Bones, thankful the man's eyes were fixed on the two dismantling the Poneglyph.
Tana seemed to notice, however, because a second later, she slipped her hand in his and gave a squeeze.
Everything had to be okay now, Zoro thought. He wouldn't accept any other outcome.
When the sound of shouting, unfamiliar voices, and then an odd drilling filtered back through the house to Oliver and Thomas, still seated in the living room, they knew something was wrong. Especially when Tana didn't return.
The two boys looked at each other, eyes wide, a feeling of dread filling their stomachs. Almost instinctively, the brothers sunk to the floor in front of the couch where they could remain out of view should someone come down the hallway, Thomas flipping furiously through the tablet until he found the correct camera view of the front hall.
What they saw confused them at first, two guys working to dismantle their mom's Poneglyph, but what they noticed next made their blood run cold. Tana and Zoro were standing there too, Tana behind her dad and a third stranger with a gun aimed straight at them.
Thomas gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth a second later, Oliver leaning in closer to whisper in alarm, "Is that a gun?!"
It certainly was, and the realization had Thomas looking to his older brother fearfully.
"What do we do?" he hissed. "Call the police?"
Oliver was staring at the screen still, watching the scene intently. It almost didn't feel real, like it couldn't possibly be happening inside their house. Surely this was a shot from a movie and they weren't really in danger.
But the longer they sat there in tense silence, the more he realized that they indeed needed to do something, and perhaps they should try and put their dad's inventions to good use, as reckless as it was.
A hardened look of focus came over the boy, who pushed his hair from his face and sat forward, gesturing for Thomas to give him the tablet.
"First, we help Tana," Oliver whispered as he tapped out of the camera view and through a few more menus. "Let's try out Dad's flamethrower…"
"What?!" Thomas yelped quietly. "But Oliver, it's installed in the wall directly over Mom's Poneglyph! At that close range, the projectile could cause severe injury!"
"Relax," Oliver assured, now with a differently-angled camera view of the hallway up on the screen, a virtual target appearing in the center. He moved the tablet around a bit to shift the target's location, held it up before him with concentration. "If I shoot it thirty degrees to the left with fifty percent fuel, I won't hit anybody. It'll just scare them, and if I line it up correctly, I could knock the gun from that dude's hand in one shot."
Thomas let out a breath.
"Be careful," he warned. "The tiniest margin of error could dismember them…and don't use too much fuel! What if it-"
"I know…" Oliver interrupted. "It's just so Tana and her dad can get away."
Thomas didn't look too convinced, but he nodded reluctantly, watching as his brother lined up his shot once more. To anyone else, it might have looked like another of their video games, but it would soon become apparent that it was actually something to be feared.
Oliver tapped a few buttons, changing a few settings and locking it in as his dad had shown him. Then he gave one last glance to his brother.
"Ready?" he asked, and Thomas nodded again.
"Kay," Oliver whispered. "Three. Two. One."
He jammed his thumb down hard on the button to fire.
Bones' men had removed but a few screws from the Poneglyph before, suddenly, there was a whirring click and what looked to be a simple panel on the wall began to slide open, at the same time the barrel of some kind of weapon shifted forward.
It drew all of their attention, Bones and his men, as well as Zoro and Tana, who watched as the strange contraption began to glow, almost - charging up…
"What the hell?" Bones gritted out, a moment before a broad grin came over Tana's face as she tugged on her dad's arm insistently.
And then, when the glow reached a peak, a stream of fire, like that from a giant blowtorch, came shooting out, the grunt on the ladder lurching in surprise and nearly toppling from his perch as the heat almost singed his face off.
The man standing below yelped and leaped out of the way, Zoro pushing Tana back as well and shielding her when the powerful surge headed straight towards them.
Bones dropped his gun in his haste to dodge, and both Tana and Zoro realized this was their chance.
"It worked!" Tana cried in disbelief, still grinning stupidly despite the danger.
Except, not a second later, that grin fell right off her face as the flames just barely licked at a tall houseplant, igniting it instantly and sending the blaze traveling to the decorative table beside it where it caught, fiercely engulfing the wall and floor beneath.
"Oh shit," she huffed, staring at the quickly spreading fire, and she felt her dad push her away from it, towards the hallway that led to the back of the house.
"Go!" Zoro shouted over the crackling flames, eyes flicking to Bones and the other two as they recovered from the shock. "Get out of the house!"
Her dad didn't waste another second before he lunged, fist drawn back, for one of Bones' men, connecting with his jaw and sending him flying, crumpling to a heap near the front door.
Tana's eyes widened, but she decided to listen to her dad, using the ensuing chaos to her advantage as she sprinted off down the hallway and away from the blaze. She had to warn her friends.
Zoro, relieved to see his daughter escape, moved for the second guy then, but the man was already rushing for the front door, dropping his tools and running.
The swordsman had no choice but to let him go because, not a second later, Bones had scrambled for his gun, a furious sneer on his face before he too ran fearlessly past the spreading fire and smoke down the hallway. The hallway down which Tana had just disappeared.
Zoro snapped, seeing that, and regardless of Bones' intentions, the swordsman raced after him, followed quickly by the flames dancing their way down the hall after him.
When Tana hadn't picked up her phone, Sanji had panicked entirely, cursing the relatively low amount of traffic that did slow him down on his way to Franky and Robin's house.
Teeth ground anxiously on a cigarette he had yet to even light, both hands on the wheel as he recklessly swerved around cars, changing lanes aggressively in a way he never did normally.
But he feared what he would find. He was absolutely terrified of what he would come across at the house when he arrived.
He tried to stop himself from picturing the awful scenarios that wanted to play in his head, perhaps even more awful than when he'd rushed to the dojo just earlier that evening. Now it was almost certain something was very, very wrong, and his heart felt like it would beat from his chest with the anxiety.
Of course, absolutely nothing could have prepared him for what he actually found when he screeched the car to a stop across the street from Franky and Robin's house.
The lights were on, but the front door was wide open, and just inside the door, he could see a man's body, slumped on the floor and unmoving.
This was one thing. But what truly horrified him was the fire - the real fire - that was actually there, actually burning in the front hallway - he wasn't imagining things!
He'd fucking talked to Tana about not starting fires, and here he fucking was, gaping at the one that was actually taking over the house.
Despite his earlier haste, he couldn't move for a good minute, staring in shock at the scene and wondering if it was all a dream.
But he snapped himself out of it, shut off his car and wrenched off his seatbelt, spitting his still-unlit cigarette out and grabbing Zoro's sword case before slamming his car door shut.
It was probably immensely stupid of him to run straight for the burning house instead of calling the fucking fire department, but with his mind on one track, one track that was focused entirely on getting whoever he needed to out of the house alive, he didn't even think to do that.
No, he simply barreled towards the house, vaulting over the fallen body of that man he didn't recognize and rushing inside without hesitation.
Sanji hadn't called them. The night was wearing on; the museum guests were all settled into their seats for the banquet amidst the dulcet tones of classical music, and Franky and Robin were forced to sit with growing concern the longer they didn't hear from the cook, or from their kids for that matter.
At their table sat Cobra Nefertari, coordinator of the Egyptian wing, and his daughter, Vivi, chatting amiably with Vivi's husband, Kohza, as well as Chaka and Pell, two prolific patrons of the museum. And beside them, two empty seats meant for Sanji, and Pudding, who'd elected to sit with her own family thanks to Sanji's absence.
Franky had reached beneath the table to place his hand over Robin's, squeezing gently and stroking over her smooth skin with his thumb, both of them trying to appear engaged in the conversation when, in reality, their minds were elsewhere.
Both of them had their phones out on the table, stealing frequent glances, ready to lash out with lightning-fast reflexes to pick up the second either rang.
But neither did, and it was soon nearing time for Robin, and unfortunately, Crocodile, to make opening remarks before the dinner began.
When they did hear a phone go off, it wasn't at their table. In fact, it was at the neighboring one, at which sat Crocodile himself, along with some suspicious-looking acquaintances of his, a rat-faced woman with bushy red hair, and a large blond man beside her.
It didn't matter if the ringing wasn't in the right place, both of them were so on edge that they very nearly reached for their phones anyway.
But instead, it was Crocodile who took out his phone, jammed it to his ear with a gruff, "Yes?"
As soon as he'd done that, Robin had eyes and ears on the man, watching as his expression changed from indifference….through shock….until it settled on rage, his ringed hand nearly snapping his phone in two when he growled, "What the hell do you mean there was a-?! Where's Bones?!"
The man shot to his feet, strode across the room, heading for the door with his phone still pressed to his ear.
Robin knew she had no choice but to follow. She and Franky locked eyes for a moment, and it was decided.
"Excuse me for a moment," she said to the table, standing and slipping her phone smoothly into her pocket with a nod before striding off after him subtly. Hardly anyone was paying attention, too occupied with their own chatter, but she hung back until he'd vanished through a side doorway.
Only then did she sneak out after him into the lobby, slinking up behind a large column, out of sight, but still well within earshot considering the man was nearly shouting into the phone down the hall.
"You ran?! You coward!" he was growling angrily. "I told you - I don't care what it takes! If you don't get your ass back there and finish the job, then consider the money gone, and your safety threatened!"
There was a pause, presumably while he listened, rather impatiently, for whoever was on the other end to speak. And then he nearly exploded.
"A fire?!" he hissed, and though Robin didn't know about what he spoke, a nervous feeling twisted in her chest.
Crocodile made another frustrated noise, pinched his nose in a rare show that his aggravation was actually affecting him. He seemed to steel himself - force himself to calm before he responded once more, lowering his voice.
"If you don't kill them all and cover your tracks, I'll come out there and kill you myself."
Another pause, Robin sliding slowly along the column to stay out of sight when she heard his footsteps coming back her way.
"No amount of pathetic groveling will make me change my mind. I expect things to be fixed."
A few more grunts, and then Crocodile hung up, footsteps quickening as he made his way back towards the banquet hall, muttering to himself as he went.
Robin waited, the sound of the music and conversation inside growing in volume briefly when he opened the door before it shut, muffling the noise once more.
Immediately after, she pulled out her phone, which still had yet to receive any messages.
She didn't know just what had been ruined for Crocodile, where his grunts were. And yet, she did not feel right about any of it. Whether it was a mother's intuition, she had no idea, but slender fingers quickly dialed Oliver, who usually had his phone on him constantly, more so than his younger brother.
Worry eating at her, she waited anxiously for him to pick up.
Tana bolted through the house, an overwhelming heat and smell of smoke beginning to follow her as she burst into the kitchen, dodged chairs and counters on the way to the living room, where her friends still sat. Part of her wondered just how angry Sanji would be when he discovered they'd gone and done exactly what he told them not to...
Both boys were huddled on the floor in front of the couch, big grins plastered over their faces to match their triumph.
But their looks quickly fell away as soon as they saw Tana racing into the room.
"Get up, get up!" she yelped insistently. "We gotta get out of here!"
Oliver and Thomas scrambled to their feet, though Oliver looked confused.
"But why, we totally nailed that shot, didn't you-?"
He trailed off, face paling when, from the hallway, he noticed the flicker of flames reflecting in the windows, a dark billowing smoke starting to creep its way around the corner….and then a huge man he didn't recognize came stampeding into the kitchen, a menacing snarl on his face.
"That's why!" Tana hissed, pushing her friends towards the back door that led to the pool area outside.
Panic overtook them, Thomas stumbling for the exit, his brother behind him, the tablet still in hand, and Tana practically shoved them along, only slowing to grab a long fire poker in the stand near the fireplace.
Something on Bones' face seemed to register his realization that these were the culprits who'd foiled his plan, and the man picked up speed, toppling a few kitchen chairs in his haste to get to them, already lifting his gun.
The kids rushed for the door, Thomas reaching it first, nerves causing sweaty hands to slip and fumble with the knob, long enough that Tana turned around, fire poker poised to attack if she needed to.
But just as they heard the click of a trigger, Zoro came bursting around the corner as well, long strides catching up to Bones and tackling him from behind, redirecting the aim of his gun, which Bones misfired into a nearby wall with a furious roar.
All three of the children jumped at the loud sound, and despite everything, Tana fearfully looked back at her father, who currently had an arm hooked tightly around Bones' throat from behind, bodily throwing the man onto the couch and holding him down, all while trying to wrestle the gun from his hand.
"Keep going!" Zoro called out across the living room, still struggling with the man.
Thomas was quick to listen, managing to get the door open and rush out onto the patio, though Oliver had taken the slight diversion to begin tapping through the tablet again, eyes shooting up to watch a panel above the fireplace slide open.
Tana seemed to realize what he was doing, and she whipped around to push her friend towards the door too.
"Oliver, don't! You'll hit my dad!"
"No, I won't!" he insisted. "I'm aiming the trajectory for-!"
"Oliver!" Thomas called him from outside, fearful eyes fixed through to the kitchen where flames had begun to lick at the cabinets, slinking in easily from the hallway.
"Tana! Get the hell out!"
Her dad's voice this time, sounding more and more urgent the longer she lingered.
"Get off me, bastard!"
Bones growled with rage, a surge of strength causing him to finally crack his head back against Zoro's chin, hard enough that the swordsman loosened his grip on his throat. The opening was enough for him to shoot up, elbowing Zoro in the gut and fixing his grip on the gun, which he raised quickly and without hesitation this time.
What happened next happened fast.
The man started to advance, closing the distance between him, Oliver, and Tana, gun aimed. Oliver, in his alarm, pressed the button to shoot the flamethrower.
Tana shoved him hard out the door after his brother, just as the panel on the wall fired another rocket of burning fuel towards them.
Bones, directly in its path, ducked away, as did Tana, who dove behind a chair, covering her head and letting out a whimper, especially when she heard a loud crack by the door.
When the heat and blinding light died down, she spared a glance over her shoulder, just in time to see the door frame burst into flames, along with another plant situated next to it, essentially blocking any exit.
She scrambled back away from it, only to hear her dad call her name frantically.
A peek around the chair, just in time to see, through a shower of sparks, Zoro lunge for Bones again furiously, a fist drawn back to punch him hard in the jaw and send him crashing into the ottoman near the couch.
As soon as he'd done that, the swordsman's gaze wrenched up to his daughter, trying to see her through the smoke and flames.
"I'm okay!" she called to him, but had to cough and crawl away quickly when the fire began to lick at the chair she'd hidden behind.
Some degree of relief crossed Zoro's face, but it was fleeting as Bones recovered, pushing himself up and whipping around to aim the gun at Zoro this time with a hateful glare.
But Zoro was ready for him, grabbing the arm holding the gun without fear and wrenching it away from him in a practiced armbar, just as Bones fired the trigger, again shooting a stray bullet off in the opposite direction.
Tana ducked again, on instinct, and had no choice but to stay where she was, low to the ground with her sweatshirt sleeve over her nose and mouth. The door to outside was blocked by flames, and while she could make a run for the dining room, it connected to the hallway, where she could see, through the doorway, flames working their way into that space as well.
The only way out to join her friends would be to bust a window or something, and, foolishly, she didn't want to leave her dad, even though he'd insisted she get herself to safety.
She could try and fight too, try and help her dad. But that gun admittedly scared her.
A physical fight she was used to, and though this intruder looked like an intimidating opponent as far as sheer bulk and strength went, it would at least be easier to predict his movements, but with a gun? It was something she'd never faced before - never should have had to face. And it was not something to be underestimated.
Another particularly loud crack of fist against something, and she stole another glance over the armrest of the chair to see her dad spitting out some blood, trailing fingers over his jaw for a split second before he and Bones clashed again, Zoro now trying to wrestle the gun from his grip entirely.
She didn't see how it was going to work though, and more than once, Bones brought that gun dangerously close to her father.
And it was to the point where she couldn't take it. She pushed up to her feet, the iron fire poker still in her grip, and she was about to run for the man.
When suddenly, a clattering sound in the dining room to her right, and she looked to see a figure emerging practically through the flames with a string of curses.
Sanji was panting and coughing from the smoke, the back of a hand lifting to cover his mouth, but then he looked up and made eye contact with her.
A relieved grin instantly split his face, and despite the flames that were on her end of the house, he ran towards her, bursting in to find not only Tana, but the mosshead in an all-out brawl with another man. A man who had a very real gun.
"Are you - okay?" Sanji huffed as soon as he reached Tana's side, hands flying to her arms.
As soon as she nodded, he turned.
"Zoro!" he called, yanking Tana away from flames that started to come closer.
Instantly, the swordsman froze, fist geared back for another punch, and he looked up, dumb mouth gaping when he laid eyes on none other than the cook, standing there, disheveled and breathing heavily, but there nonetheless.
"Cook-" he stuttered out in disbelief, but his pause only afforded Bones an opening to sock him again in the cheek, this time sending him toppling over with the force of the punch, nearly flying right back into the flames currently devouring a bookshelf near the TV.
What the fuck was he doing here? How was he here? How had he known to come?
Zoro, again, had far too many questions that he knew he couldn't get answers to yet, but perhaps the most pressing mystery of all was the fucking flutter of warmth and reassurance that started up in his chest upon seeing the blond.
He didn't even feel the punch, only that stupid giddiness he hadn't felt in a long-ass time, that only increased tenfold as soon as the cook bolted forward and landed a hard kick to Bones' side, the man letting out a roar of pain.
Another unexpected kick sent his gun flying from his hand off into the burning kitchen somewhere, and then the cook was at Zoro's side, with a hand outstretched to help him back onto his feet.
The swordsman stared at it for a long moment, blood trickling down his bottom lip, but he couldn't even move to wipe it away.
"W-What are you doing here?" he breathed, slowly lifting a hand to clasp the blond's and haul himself back up.
"Long story," the cook said, a smug grin coming to his features that was rather dazzling in the flickering light. "Brought you a little something though."
Then he reached up to pull the sword case off his shoulder and toss it at the mosshead.
The swordsman caught it, but again, looked entirely dumbfounded, knowing what was inside, but not understanding how the cook had known about anything.
This was Wado. He knew that, could feel it without even looking inside, and fuck, he hadn't touched it since that night.
And yet, as soon as he heard his daughter's fearful cry of, "Dad?", heard Bones start to run for her and the smack of that fire poker against skin, he had Wado out in an instant. He could hardly remember pulling the sword from its case, unsheathing it and slicing Bones away from his daughter with the back of the blade, but it happened.
He stood there between her and Bones' fallen form, the man struggling to pull himself up from the shattered remains of the entertainment cabinet across the room. Wado was held tightly with both his hands, limbs trembling, not with fear, but adrenaline, a rush of exhilaration that felt right, like he'd returned to something he hadn't fully realized he'd been missing.
Tana stumbled back, wide eyes on him, almost in disbelief that her dad had actually used the sword, but the spell didn't last long.
Behind her, a terrible crackling sound and a shower of sparks suddenly rained down when flames tore a hole in the ceiling, plaster and a beam toppling out.
Sanji ran for Tana, grabbing her and pulling her against him quickly, coughing when a billow of smoke came their way.
And then Zoro had locked eyes with him.
"Cook!" he called, having to tear his gaze back to Bones when the man started to struggle to his feet stubbornly once more. "Get her out of here! I got this!"
He sounded certain, and seeing that glint in his eye - the same confident glint Sanji had seen when he and Zoro first sparred - he believed him.
"Roger!" Sanji replied, and he hurriedly shoved Tana away from the brawl.
"But - Dad!" Tana cried worriedly, trying to fight Sanji and turn back, even as the smoke drew a coughing fit from her as well.
"It's okay!" she heard him yell, and then the sound of an angry growl when Bones lunged for him again, though he blocked the man's punch easily with his blade.
"He's fine!" Sanji assured, even though worry filled his chest, as well as a strong desire to stay and fight with Zoro, despite the very real and increasing danger.
"There's no way out!" Tana exclaimed, finally sounding well and truly panicked as the fire completely blocked the only door in the room.
"It's just a little fire!" the cook replied, even shooting a grin over his shoulder. "Nothing to be scared of!"
And with that, he dropped himself to the floor, swinging a leg around in a wide sweep that was powerful enough to cause an actual gust of air that blew back a path through the flames.
"Come on!" Sanji urged, grabbing her wrist and yanking her along, even as the fire began to close in again.
But it was enough of an opening for them to burst forth from the burning room onto the cool patio outside the house.
They kept running, Sanji dragging her along past the outdoor kitchen area that Franky so loved to hold barbecues at, until they stopped near the shallow end of the large swimming pool, illuminated by blue lights beneath the water.
The orange from the fire behind them reflected on the water's surface, both of them panting heavily for a moment before Sanji brought hands to Tana's face, examining her for signs of injury.
Her face was dirty from smoke and soot, sweaty from the heat, and there was a small amount of blood from what looked like a tiny coin-sized burn near the front of her ear.
She winced when his finger brushed it, but couldn't much be bothered because she'd looked frantically back behind them, at the house which seemed to shimmer with the heat and flames dancing within.
And her dad was still in there.
"Tana!"
There were tears in her eyes when she turned to see Oliver and Thomas crouched farther away in the backyard.
Oliver got to his feet, sprinted over with barely-contained tears as well, though Thomas stayed where he was, watching the scene with wide eyes.
"A-Are you okay?" he asked, not questioning Sanji's presence just then, his hand reaching out to grab his friend's arm. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to - I-I swear!"
Tana shook her head, unable to properly reply, as distracted as she was, an anxious glance still trained on the house.
"Sanji - m-my dad!" she huffed, looking to the blond for what to do, but he was already nudging her towards her friends, both hands on her shoulders.
"You three keep going. Get far away from the house," he urged. "And call the fire department. Can you do that?"
Tana and Oliver nodded somewhat dazedly, neither looking particularly confident in this.
The cook sighed and reached up to press a hand to the girl's cheek reassuringly, managing a small upturn of lips.
"Don't worry," he assured. "I'm gonna go help your dad."
Then with one last pat to her cheek, he turned her fully away from the house and gave her a gentle shove before taking off running back across the patio again.
Tana watched him for a second, but Oliver had started pulling her along, so she had no choice but to follow, Thomas getting to his feet to run with them.
"Come on! Let's cut through Mr. Boodle's yard!" Oliver called, the boy reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone, quickly punching in the three emergency numbers and jamming the device to his ear as he ran.
A few seconds later, presumably after the call went through, he panted out, "Yeah, hi, um. I'm in Water 7. 2639 Laguna Avenue. My house is kind of on fire…"
Sanji stole a glance behind him when he reached the patio, just to make sure the kids were really escaping.
They were, thankfully, through a row of thick trees into the neighbor's yard, it looked like, and he let out a breath, already mentally jumping to the next task at hand - helping Zoro as he'd promised.
There was no time to waste, and while he wasn't quite sure how he was going to break back into the burning house, he knew he was entirely willing and able to bust down a wall if he had to. Zoro could fight, he knew, but amongst all the smoke and flames? There was only so long a person could last.
Fuck.
He wasn't afraid of fire. He worked in a kitchen, for fuck's sake. Fire and heat was a part of the job, half the time. But this was something else...
As soon as the kids were out of sight, disappearing into the darkness, he closed his eyes, let out a breath to prepare himself, then turned around to try and find a way back into the house.
A fist collided with his jaw unexpectedly, sending him toppling over, landing hard on his shoulder on the hard cobbled patio, hands unable to catch himself in time.
Head thoroughly rattled, he could only struggle to push himself up for a second, bring a hand to his jaw in disbelief of what had just happened.
When he finally looked up, a dark, broad figure of a man in a dress shirt was looming above him, long black ponytail and goatee standing out against the white fabric.
"Strictly business, Vinsmoke," Aladine said, his voice indifferent as he glowered down at him with a passive expression. "I'm to eliminate you. Hody's orders."
Robin rang her son's phone three times, each with growing concern, until finally, she got through. And though her sons were safe, what they told her did nothing to dispel her worry.
They hadn't known who had broken in, but the fact that whoever it was had apparently gone for the Poneglyph told Robin her suspicions had been correct. Oliver had called the fire department at least, and the three children had gotten away from the house without injury, but that apparently left Zoro and Sanji, who were still fighting the man she assumed to be Bones.
"I'm sorry, Mom! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-! Well, okay, the first one I meant to shoot, and kind of the second one, but I didn't think it would-!"
Oliver was busy lamenting an apology into her ear as she hurried back towards the banquet hall.
"None of that matters," Robin assured, relief still strong. "If you hadn't, Zoro and Tana could have been hurt initially."
"But - But now Tana's dad is-"
"He wouldn't appreciate you worrying about him," she said gently, slipping through the doors to the banquet hall. "Leave the underestimating to his enemies."
She hovered near the door, knowing her husband would notice her, and he did, almost immediately, eyes widening when he saw her on the phone. With barely a word to their friends at the table, he pushed up and rushed over to her, joining her in the hallway again a few moments later.
"Oliver, your father's here. He'd like to talk to you," Robin said pointedly when Franky looked to her, clearly wondering what was going on. "We're on our way now."
The woman passed the phone to her husband, who took it and answered, a bit dazed, before leading him off across the lobby towards the exit.
She technically had to make a speech in about twenty minutes, but it wasn't important.
They might finally have some definitive evidence, enough to get Crocodile locked up, but it wasn't important.
What was important was getting to their children. And thanking her husband for building something that had, essentially, saved their lives….in a backwards sort of way.
Pudding noted the calm, but urgent look on Robin's face as she subtly signaled her husband across the room. She watched him get up and disappear through the doorway with her, leaving two more empty chairs at their table.
Sanji was gone, and now them, and she had a bad feeling about whatever was happening.
Perhaps it was foolish, but the longer the night wore on without Sanji, the more worried she felt for him when she should probably be more worried for herself. Her mother's wrath, as she'd quickly learned, was not to be toiled with.
She remembered a time when that hadn't been the case.
Pudding tore her gaze away from the doors, back to her family's table, where her mother sat beside her with increasing agitation that the dessert course hadn't been brought out yet. Nevermind that they hadn't even started dinner.
Mama had always been driven, always been sure of herself and the life she wanted for her children. Pudding had never really felt the absence of a father figure, because Mama was more than enough. She loved fiercely, and she wasn't afraid to show it. And though they hadn't been terribly well-off growing up, she'd always felt secure because Mama had always assured her and her siblings that she had a plan - that they'd be taken care of no matter what.
She'd told the truth, and Pudding had never doubted her. That day, when she was a mere ten years old, her mother had told her they'd never have to worry about money again, and it had stuck with her.
The kids at school had made fun after that, called her mother a slut, a drug addict, a swindler, but Pudding hadn't cared. They weren't the ones who'd moved into the huge house in Whole Cake. They weren't the ones who got to have the best clothes, the best new toys, and Mama had found a way to prove all the naysayers wrong. Nevermind how she'd achieved her wealth.
The day Sanji had first proposed to her had felt like that too, like she'd somehow achieved something if someone as good as Sanji could love her. But now, what odds was she beating? What good was she if she'd only begun to hold people back, disappoint them, even her own mother?
"Where is that boy? Hasn't he been gone for too long?" Mama was saying, glancing around the room with a sneer. "And come to think of it, where did Aladine run off to?"
Her sister Praline said nothing, strange considering how possessive she normally was over her husband. But the knowing smirk that tugged at her lips spoke to something none of them knew, and for some reason, it only served to heighten Pudding's nerves.
"Honestly, Pudding, this is getting ridiculous. If Sanji isn't back here in five minutes, down on one knee, then he's gonna have trouble!"
Pudding frowned, especially when she heard the unnerving little laugh that left her sister in response to that.
"And me…?" she risked asking, fingers twiddling with worry in her lap. "Will I have trouble…?"
Her mother turned to look at her, beady eyes calculating and somewhat suspicious.
"That depends, my sweet. Do you know where he is?"
She was lucky, she supposed. She really didn't know where Sanji had gone. He'd kept that bit of information from her, probably for her own good, but it still didn't make her feel any better, seeing the cold threat that lay behind her mother's gaze.
Nothing was the same. Things were changing. Her mother's values certainly were, money and status becoming more and more important when she'd thought, for most of her life, that she'd known where her mother's priorities had lied.
Pudding didn't like the look her siblings cast her way either, similar to Mama's, looks that almost dared her to step out of line, to admit to any sort of defiance.
Sanji had never looked at her that way. Even when he was displeased with her, his eyes had always been kind, sympathetic, almost seeking to understand even if he couldn't. In the car earlier, he'd told her they couldn't work. He wouldn't go along with her mother's plan, and he'd done so with such confidence, confidence that they would both be alright - that they could both be happy.
She wanted to believe it. She wanted to believe in him because he'd never given in to his own misfortune. She'd had what he hadn't, growing up, and he'd never faulted her for it. He'd wanted her happiness above all, and wasn't that how it should be?
"No, I don't," she answered, with equal finality in her voice.
And then, before she could stop herself, she'd pushed up from the table, fingers clasping the small clutch that held her phone.
"I think I'll go look for him."
No one protested, though her mother did watch as she walked away from the table, give a vague warning of, "Hurry back."
Pudding strode across the room, out the same doors through which Robin and Franky had disappeared a minute earlier.
In fact, when she entered the lobby, she saw the two of them rushing out the exit.
That was what she wanted to do, and it was what she found herself doing, stopping to retrieve her jacket from the coat check desk, lifting the bottom of her dress up as she descended the stairs outside and strode down the street, high heels clicking on the cement purposefully when she reached the sidewalk.
Sanji had no doubt taken his car, but it was fine, because the walk felt good.
The brisk air felt good, and it felt good to take her phone out, dial three specific numbers and bring the device to her ear.
It felt good to speak to the operator, say, "Yes, I'd like to report a crime. I know the whereabouts of a drug warehouse belonging to Big Mom."
And when the operator asked her to identify herself, assuring her that her identity would be protected, it felt good to answer, "I'm her daughter."
Even if that was no longer what defined her entirely, it was still liberating.
The fact that Zoro was fighting so fiercely seemed to surprise Bones. Clearly, and especially judging by the assumptions he'd made in the car, Bones hadn't expected Zoro to do much of anything, especially not use a sword.
But Zoro didn't want to be scared anymore. He was done being someone Kuina wouldn't be proud of - someone that couldn't stand up for himself, couldn't protect his daughter.
Sanji had appeared. He didn't know how or why, but Sanji had come and given him Kuina's sword, and if he couldn't muster his own strength, then he was damn well going to use hers.
The fire had begun to encircle the room entirely, and the heat and smoke was stifling, yet still Bones staggered to his feet after Zoro landed another blow.
"Give it up!" Zoro huffed out, sweat dripping down his face to mix with the blood that still trickled from his mouth. "You're done, Bones!"
But the man simply shook his head, determination clouding his features.
"You think this makes you a hero, Roronoa?" he growled, wiping at a bleeding gash on his face with the back of a hand. "You think that someone like you, someone who's been to Hell and back, has any hope of redemption?"
"I don't care what the fucking odds are," the swordsman spit out as he circled the man, Wado outstretched and ready to attack at a moment's notice. "I don't care if there's no hope. I'm gonna make it happen because people I care about need me to."
Bones merely scoffed, pivoting to keep Zoro in his view.
"What do they need from you?" he asked. "Those connections will only make you weak. Love makes you weak-"
An angry snarl and a blur of movement was all the warning Bones got before the swordsman rushed at him again, swinging Wado down in a powerful arc that collided with the man's muscled forearm.
This time, he drew blood, and he didn't care if he did. Because he knew one thing for sure.
"You're fucking stupid if you think that's true!" he hissed, a glint of satisfaction in his eye when Bones let out a shout of pain and stumbled back, his other hand reaching up to slide gingerly over the long cut on his arm.
Still, Zoro advanced, nearly backing the other man into the fire behind him.
But this was over. Love wasn't what had made him weak. Fear had. Isolation had. But love had been his salvation. It always had been, and it didn't matter how fucking sappy it sounded. When he thought of the things - the people - he cared about, it fueled him. It made him want to fight, and that was enough evidence for him that love was a great strength - never a weakness.
He didn't wait for Bones to say anything else. He didn't want to hear anything else. He had to see his daughter. He had to see Sanji and find out the answers he so craved, still had to try and understand exactly what that enigmatic feeling had been, when the cook had passed him Wado with that confident smirk.
There were things he needed to do again, and staying passive, angry, and fearful, above all, would no longer serve him.
He gripped Wado, lifting the blade and holding it horizontally over his shoulder.
Koshiro hadn't taught him this attack, knowing it was too dangerous, but his uncle had. His uncle had always told him to listen for the "breath" of his opponent, the rhythm that defined their every move, and respond accordingly.
Zoro had broken his own rhythm when Kuina died. Mihawk had seen that defeat and walked away.
But now, the swordsman wondered if maybe he could do him proud as well.
Zoro acted swiftly, swinging Kuina's blade around in a powerful circle to send a fast projectile of air barreling right towards the other man.
The gust temporarily dispersed the flames, and when it reached Bones, the man went flying back, crashing clear through a window and soaring out of sight.
Zoro could hear the harmonious singing of the blade in his hands.
"What the fuck will killing me do for your shitty revenge?" Sanji hissed, dodging another of Aladine's punches with a duck and a rotated kick that just narrowly missed the man's throat. "Big Mom's the one that set Hody up! Don't tell me you're too fucking chicken to go after her!"
"She wants you alive," Aladine answered smoothly. "Wants you for her daughter. So, naturally, taking you out would hurt her as well. And seeing as you're still technically the one who turned in the boss, it works for twice the satisfaction."
"That's the pettiest shit I've ever heard," the cook snarked, swinging another kick, this one landing directly in the guy's side when he couldn't escape in time. "And what's gonna happen to Pudding, huh?"
Aladine grunted, stumbled to the side, and clutched at his ribs, but not for long before he launched an arm up to grab the cook's ankle.
"Still on with that chivalrous act, I see," he goaded. "Thought you wanted nothing to do with her. Maybe it's time you quit playing coy and figured out where your loyalties lie."
"It's not chivalry! It's compassion!" Sanji gritted out, just barely managing to wrench his ankle from the man's strong fist, vaulting off his hands to dance out of reach once more. "You don't know anything about me!"
Aladine regarded him for a long moment, and Sanji had to wonder just who the hell this guy was, why he looked at him with an air of something that resembled pity.
"Call it what it is," the man said. "But indecision will only weaken you. And someone who's achieved the freedom you have has no business being tentative with it."
The cook didn't know what to make of that, only knew that the man was pissing him off. And someone like this asshole, who also seemed to have loyalties in two different places, shouldn't be trying to tell him what to feel.
"You don't get to decide what I do," Sanji growled, and then he bolted forward, leaped and twisted his body in the air to shoot another forceful kick at the man.
Aladine didn't dodge. Instead, he stood his ground, tilted his head to the side to avoid Sanji's flying foot, and lifted a hand to clamp onto the cook's wrist this time. His other hand met Sanji's shoulder, and he threw the man against the side of the pool, the blond's head cracking onto the patio painfully. A second punch landed in Sanji's ribs with a sickening crunch, sending him splashing into the shallow end of the pool.
Aladine followed, even though the cook wasn't moving. He grabbed Sanji and held him under, feeling the water begin to warm with Sanji's blood that twirled up in wispy patterns.
He was sorry for this, but he wasn't going back on his decision.
The fire trucks had been the first to arrive, coming to a halt in front of the burning house. Oliver, Thomas, and Tana had run from the backyard, detoured through Mr. Boodle's lawn and gathered themselves across the street from the house.
Oliver had passed the phone to his brother, who hadn't hung up with his parents yet, most likely for everyone's peace of mind, even though their mom and dad were on their way.
Firefighters jumped out of trucks, already getting to work locating the nearest hydrant on the street and hooking up hoses.
The first person to notice the kids was a freckled man with a short black ponytail. Eyes widened when he saw the three, watching the scene silently with shock on their features, and he instantly began to cross over to them, clapping a blond comrade on the back as he went.
"I got the kids, Marco," he muttered, to which the other man nodded, and soon, he was knelt in front of them, kind eyes and a reassuring smile on his face.
"Hey. You guys okay?" he asked. Noting the soot, dirt, and sweat that muddied Tana's face in particular, along with the small burn, he added, "This your house?"
Oliver and Thomas nodded, though Tana kept staring fearfully at the flames, looking for any sign of Sanji and her dad.
"The firefighters are here, Mom," Thomas was saying into the phone, and the man's smile turned sympathetic.
"Yeah. An' don't worry. We're gonna get everything under control. We'll get some medics out here - check you out. Everything's gonna be fi-"
"My dad and his friend are still in there!" Tana blurted out, knowing that was the most urgent matter. Screw everything else, her own injuries. She needed to know they were safe.
The firefighter's brow furrowed a little, but he kept calm and gave a nod, turning to yell over his shoulder, "Hey, guys! There's two still inside!"
The others picked up the pace considerably, hearing that, and only then did the man turn back to the kids.
He reached up a hand to squeeze Tana's shoulder gently, looking to calm that distraught look on the girl's face. It reminded him of when his brothers were little. He never wanted to see them upset.
"Alright," he murmured. "But listen. We've got a rescue streak goin' of one-hundred percent right now. Not lookin' to change that~ So have some faith in my guys~"
Tana still looked worried, but in the face of the man's confidence, she had no choice but to trust him.
Just then, the sound of tires screeching down the street, and they all looked up to see a bright red Hummer practically tailspinning to a halt beyond the fire trucks.
"Mom! Dad!" Oliver and Thomas cried as soon as the doors opened and their parents rushed out.
The two boys sprinted off down the sidewalk, falling into Franky and Robin's arms, Oliver once again spouting tearful apologies that Franky silenced with a crushing bear hug.
Tana watched them go, staying where she was, reaching up to wipe numbly at a stray tear that rolled down her cheek.
The firefighter still in front of her gave a gentle chuckle and another pat to her shoulder.
"I'm Ace, by the way," he said, eventually getting to his feet, with some difficulty in his bulky uniform. "Mind tellin' me your dad's name? And his friend's? It'll help if we can yell for 'em."
Tana sniffed, swallowed hard, not even processing that this was the same friend Sanji had spoken to her of earlier. This was why the guilt didn't hit her right away when she answered him.
"Um…" she mumbled, barely able to look the man in the eye, not when there were tears in hers. "My dad's name is Zoro….and his friend's name is Sanji…."
Ace's face fell, in spite of his professionalism. And that was when the fear hit Tana like a train.
A deafening crash, and a huge plume of smoke came billowing out from the completely smashed window through which Bones had shot, the unconscious man now lying facedown where he'd skidded to a halt on the grass.
And a mere few seconds after, another form - this one very much still fighting - burst through the opening as well.
Zoro was panting heavily, sweat mixing with the blood and soot that dirtied his skin, but he stood proud, attention only shifting to the figure he sensed in the pool after he was sure Bones was out.
Eyes narrowed in confusion when he locked onto Aladine, not recognizing him as one of Crocodile's.
But an instant later, he noticed the red blood swirling up in the water beneath him, saw Sanji's limp hand floating to the surface, the prissy watch he'd made fun of not even a week ago glinting almost teasingly in the firelight.
And Aladine met the same fate as Bones.
Zoro didn't know who he was or why he was there, but all it took was a short survey of the scene in front of him before he rushed forward, drew Wado back and slashed across with a speed unheard of to send that pressurized shot of air hurtling straight for the man.
It hit Aladine before he even knew what was happening, knocked him right out of the pool with a great splash and sent him flying back into the yard, where he rammed into a tree hard and slumped to the ground, unmoving.
Zoro waited, watched for any sign that the man would get up, but he didn't, so he hastily sheathed Wado and ran to the edge of the pool where the water still churned from Aladine's exit.
The swordsman's heartbeat picked up, horror filling him, just as much as when Bones had pulled that gun on his daughter.
The cook was still submerged, the weight of his suit holding him down against the stairs, and he couldn't tell where the blood was coming from, but there was definitely blood. And the cook was completely still. He wasn't coming up.
Zoro moved with a panicked growl, leaving Wado on the side and jumping into the water without hesitation. It was shallow on that end, and he managed to get to Sanji in seconds, arms slipping beneath his torso and hauling him up out of the water.
The cook was heavy in his arms, and Zoro noticed, with stark clarity, just how pale the man was in the flickering light, eyes gently closed, enough to send a chill down Zoro's spine.
"Oi-!" he hissed, giving him a shake. "Cook!"
But when that yielded no response, he let out another sound that was more worry than frustration, and pulled the man to the side of the pool.
There, he shoved him up onto the patio roughly, hoping it would miraculously rouse him, but eventually he was knelt beside a very motionless cook, waterlogged suit soaking into the stones beneath.
Out of the water, blood from a rather nasty-looking wound on Sanji's temple had begun to mix with the rivulets that ran down his drenched face, and when Zoro pressed a hand to his chest, it was obvious.
He wasn't breathing.
Heavy breaths left the swordsman by contrast, staring down at Sanji's still form in disbelief.
"Hey! Cook, come on!" he cried fearfully, a hand jutting out to grab the man's jaw roughly, slap at his cheek. "Snap out of it!"
But it was no use. The blond lay there, his condition unchanging, and despite the panic, the ice cold terror and helplessness Zoro felt, he knew he had to act.
Trembling hands tilted Sanji's head back, wrenched his mouth open. Then, fingers pinched his nose, and with a final hissed curse of, "Son of a bitch," Zoro leaned over to press lips into Sanji's, giving him a breath. Another followed, and then he sat up, clasping one hand over the other and bracing palms on the cook's chest where he began pressing down rhythmically.
Thirty compressions, and then he moved back down for another two breaths, followed, again, by compressions.
Zoro was faintly aware of the sirens and the commotion that floated through the air from the front of the house, but none of it mattered.
"Fucking - let's go!" he huffed between cycles, having to cough a few times as inhaled smoke and fatigue began to catch up to him, but he refused to stop.
He couldn't, not when it was all starting to come back, not when he was starting to see her again, lying there unresponsive beneath him, that chilling feeling of failure creeping through him - that he'd lost something unspeakable and it couldn't be undone.
But no. Sanji wasn't lost, he told himself, to keep the panic at bay. He couldn't be.
The cook wouldn't die like this...
He hadn't expected Kuina to. He hadn't expected to hear that final shuddered breath, see the focus - the literal light - leave her eyes before they fluttered shut for good. He hadn't expected any of it - to slip when his footing was always so sturdy - to cut when he was fully capable of not.
She'd said it would all be okay, after he'd swiftly pulled the sword out from under her ribs, where it had lodged at an upward angle. She'd looked at him, with fight in her eyes, and she hadn't said goodbye. He'd known it wasn't the end. That she'd kick his ass for stabbing her, for forcing her to get blood on Wado's hilt, for staining Kitetsu's finely polished blade.
They had their daughter. She couldn't leave. Tana's school trip was that Thursday, and Kuina was supposed to chaperone, even if she'd bitched about dealing with other parents. Hell, they were both supposed to pick up Tana at Franky and Robin's in an hour.
She couldn't be lying there, warm blood pooling on the mats, between his fingers as he desperately tried to stop it.
He hadn't even panicked that much. Not until she'd stilled entirely, the smirk on her face slowly disappearing, the reassuring ferocity of her gaze with it.
His hands had maintained pressure on the wound, waiting for her to stir, but when she hadn't…
"Kuina…"
Her name fell from his lips. Then, again, with more urgency when she didn't reply.
"Kuina…!"
One of his hands left her stomach, shakily landing on her face, smearing blood on her cheek, but uncaring about anything save for getting a response.
"Kuina - come on - quit fucking around-"
He shook her, slapped at her cheek, and when his fingers finally jammed to her throat, feeling for a pulse that just wasn't there anymore, he found himself numb.
This hadn't happened. He hadn't done this. There was no way. It was all a bad dream, surely.
He sat there, waiting for something to change, waiting for her to open her eyes, to take his hand and tease him for worrying. That was what should have happened, had any other time she'd been injured. Why should this time be any different?
He couldn't feel, and yet, his first reaction was to scream, lean over her, take her face in both hands and scream, harsh breaths leaving him as he did.
"Kuina! Wake the fuck up-!" he shouted. "When the fuck have you ever stopped fighting, huh?"
He kissed her hard, lips colliding with hers almost angrily, as if he could bring her back with just that contact. She wasn't leaving him. She wouldn't. He knew her as well as he knew himself, and he knew she wouldn't do this.
His mind refused to catch up with the defeat his body was starting to react with, as trailed kisses over her jaw, caresses to her cheek, and desperate words in her ear did nothing to restore the warmth slowly seeping from her body, that horrible emptiness he felt with every unreturned touch.
The wetness of tears slid down his face, teeth baring against the agonizing reality that now threatened to knock him down, drag him into the depths of the pit of despair that would keep him prisoner for over a year, unbeknownst to him.
When Koshiro hurried into the room, having heard Zoro's cries, most of which Zoro was unconscious of, he found the swordsman curled over his daughter's prone body, his hands tangled in her hair, forehead pressed to hers as silent but powerful sobs shook his broad shoulders.
"Don't leave me…please...I'm sorry, I didn't..." he was whimpering to her, and it was only then, through his shock and confusion, that Koshiro noticed the blood, the three swords scattered unceremoniously on the floor around them.
"Zoro…" the man had murmured, his voice quiet and calm, but the deep furrow of his brow giving away his concern. "Did you do this…?"
The swordsman had tensed, a shuddering exhale huffing out of his lungs as everything - shame, guilt, sorrow, grief - came at him, all with that one question from the man who'd helped bring into the world the woman he'd just taken.
He'd done this. He couldn't blame Kuina for leaving because this was his fault. He was the one who'd robbed this man of his daughter, his own daughter of her mother. And himself of the only person he thought he could ever love as deeply.
This was her blood on his hands.
He'd turned his head away, unable to look the man in the eye. But he'd managed to get out a self-hating, "Yes…"
The truth.
Koshiro had no choice but to call the police.
He'd been at it for too long, it felt like. Sanji wasn't reacting to any of his resuscitation attempts, and Zoro was becoming more frantic.
Who had that man been? Why the fuck had he done this, and why hadn't Sanji gotten out like he'd urged him to? Where was his daughter?
These were important questions, the answers to which became less and less critical the longer Sanji didn't take a fucking breath, the longer he stayed too pale and still. The longer it looked like he really might fucking do this - that he might actually-
No. Not again. He wouldn't fucking accept this!
The thought ran through him - he didn't want to be alone. He didn't want his daughter to be alone again. He didn't want to feel as he had for so long. He wanted to feel alive, like there was fucking shitty hope for them, like someone was there who got it, got his daughter, and-
This wasn't...the shitty cook couldn't...
"Sanji!" Zoro snarled, feeling an absolute, immense fear build within his chest, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hand was at the blond's cheek with far more tenderness and care than he was even aware of.
He'd leaned in close, for no other reason than being close to him, his nose nearly brushing the cook's as he panted erratic, distressed breaths.
"Sanji, come on. Don't be stupid - you're not-!"
Zoro couldn't even finish, unsure of what he was even trying to say. And he nearly caved to the very real urge to give Sanji something other than a breath when their lips next met. Something he was coming to realize, perhaps in the wrong moment, that he very much needed from Sanji.
But he didn't, the last shred of his common sense telling him that what Sanji needed was air above all else.
So he went again, exhausted, with burgeoning anguish overwhelming him.
One breath. Two….
He'd barely pulled back an inch from Sanji's lips, but that was when it happened.
The cook's body twitched, as did Sanji's features.
And then a cough, followed by another, water coming with it, and a somewhat choked gasp.
Zoro shot up, moist eyes wide with shock as he stared down at the struggling, but breathing cook.
He knelt there, watching Sanji's breaths, feeling trembles returning to his own form, an intense relief crashing over him, and with it, a feeling he couldn't explain.
It was like when he'd kissed Kuina for the first time, like when he'd first held his daughter - that feeling of blissful 'oh,' after being so scared, so terrified for so long. That feeling of right.
He had to turn away, not wanting to miss a second, but needing to wipe at his eyes, take a moment to pull himself the fuck together after nearly reliving his lowest moment in life.
He still listened, as those coughs and gasps eventually slowed a bit, until things were quieter, calmer than they had been that night.
"Zoro…?"
The swordsman's gaze whipped back to the man, still breathing heavily and coughing every now and again. Still bleeding, but still alive.
Sanji was looking up at him blearily, looking terribly out of it, a wince marring his features when he tried to take a deeper breath.
Zoro didn't say anything, just let eyes flick fearfully over the blond for signs of any other hidden injuries. As it was, it looked like the cook was having trouble staying conscious, most likely thanks to that gash on his temple.
He should have replied, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure what he would even say, or do. How could he even justify what he felt in that moment?
"You idiot…" Sanji eventually muttered, presumably at the dumbstruck look on Zoro's face.
Sanji's hand lifted shakily off the ground, brushing the backs of fingers against Zoro's arm in a subtle gesture that was still more than enough to make the swordsman suck in a sharp breath, gaze instantly flitting to the tiny spot of contact which managed to send tingles up his arm.
"Just get me - the fuck out of here…" the cook sighed.
And then that hand slowly slid from Zoro's arm back onto the patio as the cook lost consciousness again.
For a moment, Zoro's mind shot right back to that split second when Kuina had slipped away from him. How sudden and quick it had been.
But Sanji still breathed; Sanji still had color in his lips and…
His lips.
Almost unconsciously, the swordsman reached up to brush fingers at his own, just for a short moment before he shook his head, letting the lingering relief and adrenaline give him the strength to carefully gather the cook into his arms.
Sanji's head slumped onto his shoulder, and Zoro slid fingers through blond strands gently in order to get him situated.
He grabbed Wado, holding onto it with the arm he slipped beneath Sanji's knees, managing to get to his feet with everything he needed.
A last glance he shot at Bones and Aladine, both still unconscious where they'd landed. They were far enough from the house that they shouldn't have been in danger of the flames, so he left them there for someone else to attend to.
His mind felt like it was in a fog as he carried the cook out of the backyard, braved the heat and smoke one last time as he circled the house to the front.
He didn't quite know where he was walking, until he found himself amongst flashing red lights and people scrambling about in reflective firefighter gear.
Who had called them? He didn't know, but as soon as they spotted him, he had paramedics whisking him over to a stretcher, where they took Sanji from his grasp and strapped him on with surprising speed.
It started to hit him, as his fingers slid from the cook's, watching them wheel the man towards a waiting ambulance, just how close he'd come to losing it all.
He'd thought telling his daughter the truth would cause it - that ultimate loss. But it was quickly becoming clear what the real cause would have been. Or rather...who.
"Wait! Hey, kid! You shouldn't be-!"
"Dad!"
A smaller body collided with his, arms encircling his waist and hands desperately clutching at his jacket, and he tore his gaze from the cook to see Tana holding onto him, her face buried in his stomach and her shoulders quivering.
Immediately, his arms came up to circle her, holding on just as tightly as a shuddering breath left him, and he brought his nose to her hair.
There were paramedics trying to get both of them to sit down, but he didn't give a fuck.
His daughter was here. She was safe; they both were. And Sanji…
Zoro shifted his head, just enough that he could peek over Tana's to watch the cook be loaded into the back of an ambulance, the heavy doors slamming shut behind him.
He wanted to be with him. But he also wanted to be right here, with Tana, keeping her protected from anything else that tried to harm her. Because he could do that now. He'd regained that ability.
He felt her move too, turning her head to watch as well when the ambulance sirens kicked in, and the vehicle began to pull away from the curb.
"S-Sanji…" she whimpered tearfully, and he closed his eyes, pressing lips to her hair and holding them there for a long moment.
"He'll be okay," Zoro murmured back, trying to keep his limbs from trembling and his grip on her strong.
He believed his words. He had to.