Her vision took forever to clear. Bright sparks of pain fireworked wildly as she sat, dazed, dizzy, and throbbing. Copper swam in her mouth. As consciousness drifted back, the pain spread in slow fingers of fire down her neck, her back, wrapping around her ribs, deep in her chest, rending her abdomen, tearing apart her hips and thighs, enveloping her knees, burning her feet, scorching her fingernails. An involuntary moan pushed its way out of her bloody, swollen lips. Her shoulders pulsed and her hands and feet were ice. Heavy rusted iron manacles were clamped around her wrists and ankles. The ground was wet and warm. Her head was pressed against a wall so moss-covered it had grown soft. She could sense a rhythmic pounding through the wall, subtle and faraway. She heard fearful shouts, also long miles away, and the calm and quiet susurration of waves or of wind.

She was nude and vulnerable. Vision restored, she saw blood everywhere and felt terror blossom in her belly, racing to immobilize her brain. Something very bad had happened her. Something very bad had happened to others and also to her. Something very bad was going to happen again, perhaps to others, certainly to her. The lighting was dark but the pain was bright. The sounds around her seemed sharp somehow, pointed and piercing; she realized the moans had become a scream, and the screams were coming from her own body, her own voice. Though her hands were so cold as to be nearly dead, she clawed at the wall, feeling its softness might give way to escape. She could feel the murmur of the ocean within the wall, could feel a gentle rhythmic thudding, and as the ship rose and fell with her inside it, the wall seemed to rise and fall as well. Her desperate burrowing was working—her panic began to subside as the felt herself nestled within.

Her cries began to quiet as her ragged, shuddering gasps subsided into slower, calmer breaths. Her entire body had been contracted into a spasm of terror; now Zoro could feel the muscles in her back begin to relax. Her face was pressed against his chest and she pressed harder, shaking her head in small nuzzling movements, almost as though she were trying to push inside and curl up beneath his ribs. Zoro tightened his hold, fingers buried in her tussled hair, and dipped his head again to whisper as he had a dozen times already. "Hush, it's all right. It's all right, Robin. I've got you. Hush, you're safe."

As the minutes passed and her terror ebbed, her prison grew lighter. She was terribly dizzy. The seconds ticked by so slowly they seemed not to move at all. With the molasses flow of confused time, Robin began to realize that she was not naked; she wore her pajamas. Her manacled hands and feet were free. The wall she huddled against had a heartbeat. She found that she could move, although pain rocketed through all her joints. Gingerly, she craned her neck back and looked up. She squinted in the thin morning light. Zoro. His right thumb stroked her brow, clearing her hair from her eyes. She opened her mouth to say his name and ask what had happened, but all that came from her tight throat was a mewling cry. In one moment she couldn't believe such a sound had come from her and in the next, she had thrown herself back against his chest, clawing at his shirt with desperate fingers, sobbing. It had been terrible. Everything had been terrible. People had died, horribly—she had nearly died horribly, perhaps. Questions tried to form themselves in her brain and on her lips, but all she felt was racking, overwrought, paralyzing relief. She clung to him, a weapon of sanity when she hardly knew which way was up.

His grip was firm as he cradled her head just below his shoulder, his face downturned to meet hers, his words the same, and, he hoped, calming. "I've got you, sweetheart. It's over now. It's all right. You're safe."

Storms at sea grew unbelievably violent at times, but anyone with salt in his blood knew you had only to wait; storms like that would soon blow themselves out and the more wicked they raged, the quicker they assuaged. Zoro stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, brushed away her tears with his calloused thumb, drew her close, rocked back and forth with her gently, hushed her in low tones; Robin gripped his clothing, shoulders, neck, arms, scrambling with steel sinews and her storm was nearly enough to crack the timbers of Zoro's bones. Still, he soothed. Her cries split his ears, her nails dug into him and scratched abrasions of terror, her sobs stained him with salt. He murmured and held her and rocked her and kissed her and soon, she also assuaged.

"Zoro?" she whispered, frightened and exhausted.

"I'm here."

"Zoro?"

"Shhh. I'm here. It's all right, Robin."

"I don't…Zoro…I…" she swallowed knives and boulders. "What happened? What happened?"

Zoro smiled thinly, still stroking her hair. "You had a night terror."

"I…it was real. It was so real…"

"I know. But it's over now."

Robin considered this, nodded, and for the first time, began to remember where she was. Her eyes widened and she pulled abruptly away from Zoro. "I-wait…is…?" she looked around slowly, afraid of what she would see and knowing she would see it. Luffy, Sanji, Nami, Brook, Franky, Chopper…all were on nearby, all looking terribly concerned. They had seen her. They had heard her. The shoulder of her pajama shirt had fallen down and as she pulled it back up to cover herself, she noticed the deck beneath her and became vastly more ashamed. "Zoro—"

He met her eyes, wide with mortification. "Robin, it's okay. Everybody here ca—"

"Zoro, did I…is that me? Was it me?" she gestured to the wetness beneath her.

Zoro realized it wasn't just that she had had an audience. He nodded.

"Zoro…I…I wet myself?" Robin whispered incredulously and full of shame.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. It can happen in a night terror. It's nothing to worry about. We'll get you cleaned up and your things washed. It'll be like it never happened."

"We?"

"Hmm?"

"Who's 'we?' Who will clean me up? I don't want…I don't know. I just—who's 'we?'"

Zoro studied her face. "Whoever you want. Nami can if you'd feel most comfortable with her. Or, if you're feeling steady on your feet you can yourself. It's up to you, Robin."

Robin was quiet for a moment. "Would you?"

"Of course, if you want me to." Robin nodded and Zoro asked quietly, "Are you ready now?" Robin nodded again, and with that, Zoro rose slowly to his feet, disentangling her from himself as he did so. He leaned down then and tucked an arm under her knees and the other across her back and lifted her lightly. She closed her eyes and turned her face to his chest so that none of the others could see her shame. Zoro gave them a look that told all to disperse and carried her to the bathroom she shared with Nami.

The shower ledge was lined with potions for luster, volume, fragrance. He gently set her down on the narrow suginoki bench to rearrange and give himself more room to help her. He placed the bottles one by one in the corner formed between the shower and sink. He drew back the curtain and started the water, testing it after a few moments to check the heat. He turned back to Robin. "How much do you want me to help with?"

Robin looked back at him for a moment, a blank sadness in her eyes, then covered her face with her palms. Zoro was nonplussed. "Robin?" he asked, reaching a hand out to her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," her voice came muffled between her hands. "I just…I feel like…Zoro, I'm nothing." She began to cry again, but quietly.

"Sweetheart…" he shifted toward her and pulled her back into an embrace. "Sweetheart, you are absolutely not nothing," he spoke into her hair, right hand on the back of her head, left hand stroking small circles under her shoulder blades. Her hands stayed over her eyes, tucked against his chest.

"I'm…I can't. I feel like…I just don't have anything else in me. I have no strength. I can't…I can't do it."

"Can't do what?"

"Anything! I can't do anything. Zoro…I'm just…it's like I'm nothing at all."

He kept her there for a moment, then leaned back just enough to kiss her forehead. "Robin." His tone was quiet but firm. She withdrew her hands to look at him dully. "You are not nothing." She nodded wearily. He cupped her face in his hands. "Is it okay if I help you get cleaned up?" She nodded again.

With that, Zoro settled her back on the suginoki. He began to lift her pajama top, then paused. "Are you sure you're okay? I can still get Nami."

"I'm okay."

Zoro removed the top over her head, then guided her arms to his shoulders to he could help her shift to remove the bottoms. He removed his own haramaki, boots, and green kimono, keeping a careful eye on her reaction. Once down to his fundoshi shorts, he rechecked the water temperature and knelt next to Robin. "Can you walk?" Robin didn't respond, eyes red and unfocused, cheeks red and raw. "I'm going to get you in the shower now." Zoro waited a beat before slipping his arms under her again, settling her securely against him, and turning to step into the shower with her.

The water was hot, but not scalding. Hot enough to melt away muscle tension and the fog that came after particular memories left. It was exactly the way Zoro liked it. He stood under the showerhead for a moment, letting it rain down on him and on Robin before he addressed her again. "I'm going to help you stand up, okay? If you can't, I'm here, and I won't let you fall. If you get dizzy, I'm right here. Just grab hold of me and I'll keep you steady." Robin nodded almost imperceptibly. Zoro let her legs down gently and once her feet touched the pebbled floor, he guided her upright and tentatively loosened his hold to let her try to stand. He held a guarding hand just behind her back and was glad he did when she swayed. "All right then. You're with me." He smiled down at her and kept one hand on her all the time. "Is this okay? Are you ready?"

Robin nodded again and Zoro began to clean her. He started by turning her slowly around so her back was to him and washing her hair, still one-handed as he steadied her with a gentle grasp on her arm. It was funny. In her dream she had been nude and had felt fear and shame; now she actually was nude and yet felt far less naked as the tension and dread washed away with the soap suds. She realized Zoro was speaking to her. "What?"

"Soap time. Are you still doing okay?"

"Yes. Loofah."

Zoro stopped. "You want Luffy?"

Robin covered her mouth lightly and chuckled. It felt good to laugh. "No, I do not want Luffy. I definitely do not want Luffy for this. No, I have a loofah. A sponge, sort of. To wash with."

Zoro chuckled as well. "This?"

"That one is Nami's. The other one."

Zoro took it off the hook it dangled from and added a squirt of body wash. He worked it into the soft pores of the sponge and once it lathered, he began to wash her, starting at her neck. It felt good. Could anything have felt good even just a few moments ago? Robin allowed herself to be lulled by the warm water, the rhythmic strokes, the safety of his presence, and wondered idly if this is how animals felt in the sun, being groomed by their fellows. It felt peaceful. All too soon, Zoro cleared his throat. Robin opened her eyes. "Nodding off on me, are you?"

"Maybe a little."

"Time to get down to the matter at hand, I'm afraid." Robin looked at him quizzically, then remembered why he was helping her in the shower in the first place. He worked a small amount of feminine wash into a clean washcloth, then looked at her, humor replaced by sobriety, meeting her eyes. "If for one second—Robin, one second—you are uncomfortable or for any reason at all not okay, promise me you'll say so immediately."

"Zoro—I'm fine."

"Robin." His voice was firm and serious. "I mean it. I am not about to put you through anything more than what you've already been through today. If I do this and you get scared and don't say anything, it'll hurt you, you'll end up frightened of me, ashamed with everybody else, and have nobody you can trust to be there for you. I'm glad you're fine." He paused. "Promise me anyway."

"I promise."

Zoro kept his eyes on hers as he looped one arm behind her to keep her steady, then as he reached down to wash between her legs, Robin turned her head and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm okay."

He finished, rinsed the washcloth and rinsed her, then set the cloth aside and tugged her gently into a one-armed embrace. "Still okay?"

"Still okay."

Zoro turned off the water, reached out for a towel, dried himself off and wrapped the towel around his soaked shorts, picked up a second towel, and dried Robin, helping her step out of the shower slowly, letting her lean heavily on him before wrapping her in terrycloth. "Shit."

"what's wrong?" Robin asked sleepily. The hot water, the calming effects, and the lack of restful sleep were making her drowsy.

"I didn't bring in clean clothes for you."

"In the closet."

Since the women's en suite allowed them to step directly from the bathroom into the bedroom, Zoro resolved his concern, picked Robin up gently so as not to dislodge her towel, and opened the door.

Steam poured out of the bathroom, Zoro's green hair plastered was against his scalp, he was naked to the waist with a towel around his hips, Robin was in his arms with eyes closed and a towel wrapped under her arms nearly down to her knees. Blinking from the change in lighting, it was in this state that Zoro saw a sputtering and red-faced Sanji laying a tray of tea and cut fruit on Robin's bed. "I—you—she—"

"Calm down," Zoro retorted and huffed.

"She—you—what—"

"She's fine. Now, if you'll excuse us…" Zoro glared pointedly at the door.

"Fine, but if you…"

"If I nothing, cook. It was a shower. Out." Sanji bolted, blushing angrily. "Goddamn cook."

"Shush. He's a good cook," Robin murmured, eyes still closed. Zoro set her down on the bed and took out a clean nightgown.

"I'm going to get you dressed now."

"Mmm-kay."

Zoro removed the towel from her body, still pink from the heat of the shower. He worked the nightgown over her arms and head, then pulled it down as it hitched against her damp skin. "There. All set. Do you want any of this tea and crumpets business that 'good' cook left you?"

"Not now."

Zoro put the tray on her bedside table, pulled back the covers, and moved her into bed. She opened her eyes lazily. "Stay."

"You want me to stay here with you?"

"Yes. With me here." She gestured sleepily beside her in bed.

"Robin, I can't. I'll get everything soaking wet. I'll—wait, hang on." Zoro went back into the en suite, changed out of his wet shorts and into his kimono alone. "All right."

"Please," Robin whispered. "In case I dream again."

"I said all right." Zoro crawled in next to Robin and wrapped his arms around her. She mirrored him, one arm looping behind his shoulder, the other resting against his chest. She turned her head to his shoulder. Zoro was about to speak again in reassurance, but her soft snores stopped him. She was already asleep.