Hey everybody,

I really want to thank you guys for all your response and feedback. It makes me really happy that this little story is able to reach and move you, and I hope that the next chapter will do just the same^^
Personally I will have six more tough weeks ahead, then life will hopefully get somewhat easier, but the good news is, this fic will keep me and you if you want some company and maybe help us pull through every now and then ;-)

I do want to remind you guys that this story has some darker themes and this chapter is certainly not one of the lighter ones, but I guess you guys are kind of aware of the topic by now, but just in case, please stay safe out there.

I'm looking forward to see you guys next weekend!
So, till then ^^

Chapter 4

-Sanji-

It was the first morning after day zero.

Last night he had talked to Zoro for quite a long time. Sanji had tried to change his mind, had tried to discuss with him without arguing, had tried to remain rational and not emotional.

But it was impossible to contradict Zoro's view without becoming emotional. Because from a purely objective point of view, this stupid idiot was unfortunately not wrong. After what had felt like an eternity, he had gotten up to get the other something to eat, but when he had come back Zoro had already fallen asleep.

The rest of the crew had all gone to bed at some point. At least Sanji had suspected that.

He hadn't seen Luffy at all. Usopp and Franky had wanted to stay up all night for some tinkering stuff, which he didn't care about at all. Brook had already been gone when he had returned after the conversation. According to Robin, he had put the tired Chopper to bed.

Until the early morning hours Sanji had been sitting at the table with the two ladies, forgetting the sparsely touched dinner and talking about the future of their crew. In short words he had expressed Zoro's decision and thus the reason for Luffy's outburst and, like him, the two ladies were absolutely against it, but could hardly oppose Zoro's reasoning. At least not if one looked factually at the well-being of the crew. At least not if considering Zoro's own well-being.

By now the sun was about to rise and Sanji wondered what to do next. Although the Marimo and he weren't best friends, he could not imagine this crew without the always napping, grumpy, swords swinging idiot.

He understood why Luffy had rejected his decision.

But Zoro was right that from now on he would not be able to do anything of what he had done so far. And even if they all got along with it, wouldn't it be cruel for him to stand – sit! - idly by as they would fulfill their dreams, knowing that he would never be able to make his dreams come true again?

Sanji swallowed heavily and concentrated on the sizzling egg in the pan.

It shocked him how collected the other had been. How matter of factly he had accepted his fate. During their long conversation, Zoro had not once been loud, not even emotional, not even desperate.

If Sanji were in such a situation, if his hands were suddenly useless, he would go crazy. The idea alone filled him with pure desperation.

So why was Zoro so calm except for brief moments? Why did he seem to mind so little? Why did the idea of never being able to reach his dream, for which he had been willing to die, not fill him with unimaginable grief, while even Sanji was so distressed?

Maybe he was really so strong, so mature, just to accept it, but if Sanji was quite honest he didn't believe it. He did not believe that the other would give up in this way, would simply accept his fate. Zoro would fight, as he always fought.

Like every morning, Robin came in at some point, greeted him as kind as always and started cooking coffee. Despite her still bandaged arm, she helped him as good as she could.

They chatted quietly, but Sanji followed the conversation only half as attentively as he would otherwise. He barely noticed Brook and Nami coming in and joining the conversation, helping Robin to set the table.

It wasn't until they were almost done that he realized that half of the crew was still missing.

"Where is everyone?" He asked, displeased and worried. He didn't like it when someone stayed away from a meal, especially since breakfast was the most important meal of the day.

"Chopper wanted to go straight to Zoro," Brook replied calmly. He seemed to be the calmest member of the crew about the current situation. Perhaps his experience and age were of advantage here.

"Franky and Usopp are still in the workshop." Nami's voice was scratchy, she had probably slept far too little. "I was just downstairs; they said they're coming later."

"What the hell are they doing all this time?" Sanji asked, standing at the table, ready to serve breakfast.

"Who knows," she shrugged.

"Well, I will go and wake up Luffy," Robin remarked in her quiet, mysterious way, as if she had just thought about how to kill all of them.

Grumpy Sanji stared at his breakfast. It consisted mainly of leftovers of the previous dinner. He didn't like wasting food, but he disliked even more that his crewmembers had eaten so little the past day.

"Okay. Get started. I will just check on Chopper and fetch the Marimo something to eat."

With quick movements, he put a plate of several tasty things together for the swordsman and went to the sickbay. Chopper sat at his desk and didn't even look up. Zoro was in the hospital bed, his eyes closed, calmly breathing, obviously asleep, which was hardly surprising. Around this time he was usually always sleeping.

For a fraction of a second, Sanji recalled that morning seemingly so long ago, when he had wakened the other up out of a nightmare.

Then his gaze fell on the small side table next to the bed, where the plate of last evening's dinner stood untouched. With a sigh, he exchanged the two plates. At that moment Chopper noticed him and met his gaze seriously, a hoof on his lips as a clear sign that Sanji should let Zoro sleep.

He nodded and pointed to the door to the galley. The reindeer also nodded and hopped off his swivel chair.

In the galley, the others, now including Luffy, were already eating. He seemed much happier than last night. He grinned and laughed and ate without pausing to breathe. He probably had to make up for the calories from the missed dinner.

When they were almost done, the two craftsmen finally showed up, deep circles around the eyes and pale cheeks. Usopp yawned extensively and Franky's face was halfway hidden by his hair. Without saying a single word, they sat down at the end of the table and ate what was still there, but they didn't stay long before Usopp sighed.

"You good to go on?" He asked Franky, who just nodded and with that they were gone again.

"What's going on with them?" Nami sounded quite upset.

Suddenly Luffy got up, still with a grin.

"Well!"

The others looked at him.

"And what are you up to?" Now Nami sounded more than unsettled.

"I'm going to Zoro." Luffy grinned like the idiot he was.

"Do you really think that is a good idea?" It was rare for Robin to question her captain's intentions.

"Yes, of course. Why not?" And so Luffy disappeared into the sickbay.

"Uff, I hope they won't fight again."

"I'm certain it can't get much worse than yesterday." Brook tried to reassure the young doctor in his own way.

But the other side of the wall remained silent. Even when Sanji and Brook were almost done with the dishes, the other room was still quiet.

Eventually, Luffy reappeared outside and played fishing. Sanji refused to consider it a serious task, after all Luffy laughed loudly and moved his fishing route every few seconds, lowering the chances of any fish to actually consider taking the bait.

After a while, Usopp and Franky also emerged from the depths of the ship and went straight into the men's cabin to sleep. Chopper, meanwhile, sat on the swing and read a large, heavy book.

Robin was apparently up in the lookout, as Nami told Sanji, when he walked across the ship with cocktails. Brook's violin playing accompanied him over the whole ship, even though he did not know where the musician was.

Sanji himself tried to deal with more or less important tasks, tried to enjoy the rare tranquility, but it was impossible. Like probably everyone of their crew, he couldn't help but worry about Zoro.

Still Sanji tried to focus on his supply list, which was of course up to date, but after two more sighs, he put his reading glasses aside and got up. There was still time until he had to start preparing lunch, so he could seize the moment to chat with his favorite enemy. Something he would never have done before, or at least never admitted that he would have done.

To his surprise, this time Zoro was not sleeping but sat upright, his arms stretched upwards and then he slowly bent forward until his hands touched the ground, apparently he had to pay incredible attention to his balance.

"What do you want, cook?" Zoro did not even look at him but repeated the strange movement.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Poor men's ballet, without legs, just arms."

Damn! He just couldn't resist it. Force of habit.

But the other didn't even seem offended.

"Not quite, but at least just as embarrassing."

"Physiotherapy?"

The other only grumbled approvingly, obviously unwilling or unable to tackle Sanji's verbal ambush.

Across his bent back, Sanji could spot the untouched breakfast on the small table.

"You should eat something."

"Are you worried about me?"

"I just don't want to have to throw away food all the time."

Zoro stretched again before leaning against the wall, folding his arms.

"Not like you have to get me some."

"Well, given that you can't, I actually do have to."

Zoro did not respond.

Fuck!

Had Sanji actually hurt him? Damn it!

When it came to Marimo, it was almost impossible for him to control his words, he spoke faster than he thought. Sanji wasn't used to it. He himself was still so shocked by what had happened, had not even begun to process it, and now he kept throwing it at the other's face without paying any attention to his feelings.

Damn it!

But to his surprise, the other actually grinned slightly and shook his head. Was he seriously able to take this shitty situation just like this?

Sanji decided to keep the conversation going as chances like this were rare, to get Zoro to actually talk.

"What did you speak with Luffy about? This time he didn't threw you through the room, looks like you guys did actually make some progress."

Now Zoro looked at him for the first time.

"Basically, the same as yesterday, only this time he listened."

Sanji bit his lower lip.

"And the result?"

"I will stay."

Thank God!

Relief flooded through Sanji. No wonder Luffy was in such a good mood. Zoro would stay, he would stay. Anything else they would somehow manage. They would be fine, there always was a way, as long as Zoro was willing to…

"Until we reach the Red Line. From there, it will be easier for me to return to the East Blue."

He choked on his own breath.

"What?"

"Don't act all surprised. We both know that the New World is going to be dangerous enough one way or the other. This crew doesn't need a cripple in addition that you all have to take into account." Sanji stared at the other, but Zoro seemed just too relaxed. "And if you'd excuse me now. I'm pretty tired and want to rest a little bit."

His reflexes worked faster than his stunned brain.

"Not like you're doing anything else than napping."

"And not like that's anything new."

All this sounded so wrong. None of this was right.

Nothing about the way Zoro behaved did fit, as if it all was just an act, a very bad, very convincing act.

Sanji left, but that empty feeling of having lost something stayed.

-Zoro-

When the door closed, he took a deep breath and simply dropped to the side.

His back barely hurt, his wounds healed well.

Yet he was so exhausted; he was so tired. He was tired all the time. It was exhausting, he was tied to this bed, could hardly put himself in a sitting position on his own. He couldn't leave if something didn't suit him, couldn't process his thoughts with his daily training. He missed training, it was what calmed him, liberated him, inspired him.

It was exhausting. Every time one of the two doors to the sickbay opened, he had to pull himself together, had to control his feelings. Chopper was as fragile as made of glass; a single loud word would be enough to make him shatter into a thousand shards. But that was something he would never allow. All Zoro could do was save his young friend from his true feelings.

Luffy was very different, but just as fragile. It was Zoro's job to protect Luffy, even if that meant he had to leave... Damn it! Even if that meant he had to leave the crew.

He had barely seen the rest of the crew since that accident, at least not alone. Presumably they didn't know how to deal with him. But he preferred that, better than these compassionate glances and hypocritical words.

The only exception was the annoying cook, who kind of seemed to show by every five minutes to have some deep, fucking meaningful conversations with him.

Actually, he was the worst of all. Zoro could see exactly how the other tried to put his own feelings aside to give him space. He could see Sanji trying to sense his thoughts and feelings, and each time he was completely wrong.

But this forced Zoro to pull himself together even more, and he had to pay even more attention to what he said and did. He was used to paying attention to Luffy and Chopper. He was used to not adding extra worries to the other crew members.

But he just wasn't used to having to make sure he wouldn't break the cook. That overwhelmed him, he didn't know how long he could endure it.

His empty gaze lay on his knees, which were still standing exactly as he had set them before. Chopper's words from last night wafted around in his head, but the last spark of hope had long faded.

And quietly he felt that he was finally breaking. He would never be able to walk again, he would never be able to train again, he would never be able to fight again. He stretched out a hand for his swords leaning against Chopper's desk.

He was too far away, but suddenly the urge to hold them was too great. Heavily he sat back up and leaned forward as far as he could, eventually his legs slipped away and he fell to the ground.

With the strength of his arms, he pulled himself forward until he was finally able to hold his beloved swords. Dull he leaned in the corner against the wall and closed his eyes, the weapons in his lap, his head rested against the edge of the table.

Hard and cold, he was struck down by realization.

It was over!

He had always fought, never given up, but now there was nothing left to fight. He would never compete against Hawk Eyes again. He would never be able to fulfill his dream.

He was no longer a swordsman.

He would never be able to make good on his promise.

His breath broke and he felt these hated tears.

All he had lived for, all that was important to him, was lost now.

Once he had lived only for his dream, then for eight more, for eight great dreams, and now he had lost all of them, had lost his share in history.

He could return to the East Blue, perhaps return to his old master Koshiro and assist him in educating his students. Maybe at some point he would find interest in something else, maybe he would be able to settle for that life.

But he knew he could never be happy again, not like he had been, here on this ship with this crew of idiots. What had made up his life, what he had even been prepared to die for, was gone now.

With one finger, he stroked the upper part of his scar. He had promised Mihawk to give him that scar back one day, he would not keep that promise, would break this one as well.

His gaze lay on his feet, saw the scars of that time. Without legs, he would be better off than with these lifeless appendages.

His view fell on Kitetsu. It would be only too happy to help him with this task, he could feel that. But he would not give in to this urge, just as he would not commit a dishonorable suicide. He was too proud to take the cowardly, easy way out, he would never forgive himself.

But as he lay there, leaning against the wall of the sickbay, rocking his swords like little children, a single tear ran down his cheek, and he wished that he had died after all. That he would not have survived the fall from the cliff. That he would not be a burden to his friends.

He could not banish these pitiful thoughts.

The others wouldn't be strong enough to send him away, he knew that. That's why he had to leave, why he had to be strong enough, no matter how much it hurt him, so in the end, it would have been easier for everyone if he had just died.

A long time ago there had been this little hope that he would never have to end up like this. During a dark night, after a lot of alcohol and a big celebration, he had made a deal, an agreement in favor of the crew to protect them. He had taken precautions to prevent him from ever ending up as a cripple, but...

"You're not going to do it, are you?" He whispered, his head leaning against the wall, his eyes closed, knowing that the headshaking person in the door frame looked at him sadly.

"I am sorry."

He said nothing, heard the door quietly close. Gentle steps echoed over the wood.

"I wish I could." Zoro could hear her voice breaking and when he looked up he could see how quiet tears were running down her cheeks. "I really wish I could still do it."

He shook his head.

For a long time, they looked at each other. She was probably the only one who could bear his truth, who could bear him, his feelings and his views. She was probably the only one to understand that he could not live like this, could understand that death would be more gracious to him, understand that he could never forgive himself for letting the others down.

She looked down at him, loudly gasping for air, and pressed a hand on her lips before sinking to her knees. Now she knelt at his feet, so close and yet so far away.

None of them would become weak in front the others, but here and now it was only them, and he allowed her to mourn, just as he mourned for the man he could have been.

"Please forgive me," she whispered.

He sighed softly.

"There is nothing I would have to forgive you for. It's been a long time, things have changed. We've changed."

She looked away, tears dripping to the ground as her fringe hid her face.

"But it was our agreement. Our deal." Her voice was so much weaker than usual.

"But how could I ask you to do this when I couldn't back then?"

Now she looked up.

"That was something else."

"Yes, it was."

He had been able to fight for her, there had still been a chance for her.

Zoro watched her slowly sitting up, a stubborn expression on her face. He watched her nod earnestly to him, and silent tears filled her eyes. He watched her cross her arms and look at him with her lips shaking.

Suddenly, two arms emerged from the wall next to him and began to strangle him.

She cried more and more, biting her lip, and clenching her fists as he just sat there and felt how it became harder and harder to breathe.

He knew she wouldn't make it.

He closed his eyes, enjoyed the pain, enjoyed the idea that his torments would end. Enjoyed the idea of not being chased by his own thoughts, no longer being a disappointment, no longer being this miserable being he had become, but then the pressure subsided.

She sobbed loudly and he knew that the additional arms had disappeared.

"I can't!" She suppressed an outcry by almost biting her own arm. "I'm sorry!"

Once again, a tear fled from his eye as he reached out for her. It had been nothing more than a fantasy. He knew that there would be no easy way out for him, that he would never go down this path, that she would not do it in the end.

He wouldn't die like a coward.

"It's okay. It's alright."

On all fours she robbed forward, extremely inelegant for the otherwise so charming lady, and took his hand, still sobbing, still crying.

She was like him; they were quite alike. They talked about things that others couldn't understand, maybe couldn't even bear. They had made a deal a long, long time ago. A deal to protect the crew, but also for their own sake. To save each of them from their greatest fear.

But then, that night after the attack on Iceburg, when she had looked at him so pleadingly, that night he had not complied to their deal and he had known that she wouldn't be able to comply to it now as well.

Feelings were quite disturbing and even more annoying. When people became important, it became so difficult to stay objective.

He had known very early on that he would not honor the agreement, at the latest when they had met the admiral, but perhaps earlier, he was no longer sure.

But she had still believed she would be able to do it. She was really strong. She had been convinced to put her own feelings aside to fulfill their agreement, but in the end she could not.

He didn't know what moved him more, her loyalty or her warmth. Both things he would never have trusted her to possess at their first meeting. He pulled her to closer and embraced the otherwise strong woman, allowed her but also himself to mourn, to be weak in this very moment. He allowed himself to break right here, in front of her, to be true to his feelings and his own devastation, only this once. Because she was strong enough, even in her weakness, she was still strong enough.

"Thank you."