Chapter 3: Warnings of semi-graphic violence and cursing. I make no money. Really none at all, and certainly not from this stuff. I own nothing.
As he moved forward to begin the destruction of the bastards, he heard something that brought the tiniest bit of mirth to the situation. As Sanji was a cook, he might have said what Zoro thought he heard, but he was pretty sure that the caustic, if weak, retort was something much more scathing than 'duck stew'.
As he cleared the edge of the foliage, all of the thug's eyes turned to him. They managed only to blink stupidly as the feared pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro moved into view. Any possibility of attack or flight was lost to the villains as with a lunge and a cry of 'ONI GIRI' Zoro leapt over Sanji's prone form and the disgusting, abusive leader fell to the ground in four different pieces. The attack happened too quickly for him to cry out, and his empty booze bottle was still clenched in a twitching, severed arm.
Leaping and spinning in the air, Zoro slammed the sword in his left hand straight into the chest of the beer guzzling thin man, and with his right cut the cur's legs from him at the knees. He watched with grim satisfaction as the body, now leg-less, slid downward to land with a grizzly squelch.
The stringy, black haired man screamed and tried to make a run for it, but Zoro was beyond mercy and in a few quick movements leapt on the man from behind and, knocking him to the ground by planting both feet on other's lower back, slit the man's throat. As he jumped back the body fell through its own blood spray.
There were now only two left, and only one in the clearing. As he spun to take out the dagger-wielding man he saw he had made a mistake. Any fighter worthy of the term should have been out for his blood; Zoro had over estimated the creature in front of him by even thinking of him as a man. In the dagger wielder's hold was Sanji. The barely conscious cook was braced in front of the thug, and a knife drew a thin line of blood from his exposed throat.
"Now then swordsman," the callous bastard couldn't hide the tremble in his voice, "if you want this man to live you're going to throw those swords to me, then lay on the ground. Any funny moves and I'll slit his throat." Zoro could think of no attack that would slay this dog and leave the ero-cook unscathed, but neither of them would live if he gave up his swords. He didn't know what else he could do.
He needn't have worried. Sanji was a fighter, no matter how grievous his injuries, and the dagger holder's plans were quickly foiled when a leg, capable of felling a tree, swung backward straight into his crotch. The squeal that followed should have probably been audible only to dogs, and the man, grabbing himself, relinquished his hostage as he slumped to the ground.
Acting without thinking Zoro moved to catch his crewmate before he hit the ground and damaged himself further. He wrapped one arm around the cook's midsection and leaned the blond against his body while he put the dagger wielder out of his misery with a stab to the throat.
It was pure instinct that made Zoro lean as much of his lower body away from the cook as possible, and thankfully so, as another devastating kick was sent in his general direction. He was about to start yelling at the bastard when he got a look at the blonde man's dazed and half crazed expression. It was obvious that Sanji had no idea where he was or who was holding him up, so he was reacting in the only way available.
Zoro knew that if Sanji got a kick in on him, even at his current weakened state, it would leave them both vulnerable, and there was one man still out in the darkness. Acting quickly, Zoro threw his upper body against Sanji as the cook lashed out with another punishing kick, and throwing the blonde off balance managed to lower them both to the ground with out further injury. The green haired fighter grimaced as his sheathes likely bruised his hip when he landed heavily on his side.
"Oi, ero-co... Sanji, its Zoro, stop fighting." The thrashing next to him told him the blunt approach wasn't helping much.
Zoro Rolled onto his stomach and leaned as much of his weight as he thought was safe onto Sanji, and attempted to reason with the cook in a slightly less gruff tone.
"Oi, Sanji, I know you're hurting, but you gotta calm down. The men are dead, or soon to be. Nothing's here to hurt you any more." Zoro knew that if he heard someone wasting their breath to speak such nonsensical crap to him, he would slay them on principle. Sanji, Zoro noted, had always seemed to go in for long and pointless speeches, so maybe this was the best way to approach him.
As it was, while Sanji seemed to be struggling to breathe, he did seem to calm down a bit, and it was interesting to watch the man return to consciousness as his vision cleared.
Sanji took a few seconds to look around him before locking eyes with the green-haired swordsman.
"What in the hell are you doing here, Marimo? And could you maybe get the hell off of me? My ribs are busted from those shit-eating fools." Came Sanji's wheezing rasp.
Rolling his eyes as he rolled to the side, Zoro shook his head in amusement. Despite the abuse to the man's body, the blond was apparently still his normal, pain in the ass, self. Zoro shouldn't have worried about his companion, the ero-cook could be sent into hell itself, and would merely take the opportunity to barbecue.
Standing and looking around quickly, Zoro tried to get a grip on the cook and pull him up. Unsurprising, his efforts to aid were shrugged off as Sanji batted his hands away. "We need to get the hell out of here now ero-cook, there is still one ass left running around and I don't want to be caught surprised out here."
Sanji shot a withering glare at the swordsman's outstretched hands and tried to rise unaided. This attempt was short lived as the injured and still bleeding cook fell to the ground, wrapping his arms around his wounded midsection.
Zoro sighed as he stared at his most irritating companion. The man was covered in blood and filth from neck to toe. Aside from a cut at the corner of his mouth the blond's face was left mostly unscathed, but now that he was closer he could see that what had once been one of Sanji's more oft worn suits was now missing its jacket and was so ragged that it could barely be recognized as clothing. As a master of blades, Zoro could easily tell that the tears had been deliberate. Someone, probably the man with the knives, had painstakingly ripped the pants up to the belt loops in several locations, and made slashes across and down the shirt. Those men didn't want Sanji dead or even defeated, they had wanted him broken and humiliated.
Watching his nakama, cursing as he struggled to breath and move, Zoro nearly rolled his eyes again. The swordsman knew he would be just as adamant, if not more so, to not receive help from his companion, and if the island were empty he would let the cook crawl around in the mud until he passed out. With the enemy still alive Sanji's pride would have to wait. Sanji would be apoplectic, but Zoro was certain he could carry or drag the injured cook with one arm and still fight with the other. Course decided the swordsman unsheathed Wado Ichimonji, and quickly realized that killing those bastards really was too good for them as Sanji, likely despite his own best efforts, cringed away from the swordsman.
Any coddling would likely piss Sanji off further, but it appeared that things he'd never thought needed saying had to be affirmed.
"You piss me off ero-cook and I doubt that will ever change," the green haired swordsman leveled a stare at Sanji that probably made the cook want to back away further, "but I'd cut my own arm off before I'd raise my sword against you as you are right now." Zoro just waited for some sign that Sanji understood, so they could get the hell out of this shit hole.
"Who the hell said you would, you green haired bastard." Sanji muttered with far less than his normal venom as he observed the ground beside him. Zoro knew the cook was bad off when he lost the ability to rage at the swordsman.
A little tired of dealing with the blond cook, and still needing to get away Zoro swooped down to kneel in front of Sanji. Ignoring the look of surprise on the other man's face and the hiss of pain, Zoro got an arm under the cook's knees, hefted him, and basically hung the injured man over his shoulder as he stood, the other's long legs dangling down his chest and torso, and quickly began jogging from the camp. As he moved he realized that Sanji wasn't wearing anything that could be called clothing as he caught glimpses of flesh that really shouldn't be exposed to the cold night air. Looking away he decided that he was going to burn this entire evening from his memory as soon as it was over.
The swordsman knew that he wouldn't be able to fight well while carrying Sanji, but hoped that if they got away quick enough, he could get the cook some place defendable, then set about planning the death of the last man.
Sanji, of course, didn't take well to being hauled like a sack of grain. He spluttered and cursed. The ero-cook also tried to knee Zoro in the face, but the swordsman had anticipated such a move and had one arm, honed by years with the blade, holding the blond man's legs immobile. The maneuver was working well until the fighting stopped and a hitched rasp could be heard from his irate companion.
"Ahh, shit!" was all Zoro bothered to say as he remembered that being bounced on a muscled shoulder might possibly be the worse thing for cracked ribs. As carefully as the rough swordsman could he slid Sanji off his shoulder. As he tried to lower the man to the ground however, lanky arms wrapped around the Zoro's shoulders.
"No…can't stop…could be…followed…I'll walk, just…" this proved to be the most speech the cook was capable of, and he just leaned against Zoro, panting as he struggled to remain upright.
Being the type of person who would really rather sever his own arm than ask for help, he knew that relying on Zoro at all had likely cost Sanji dearly in the pride department. Saying nothing, Zoro put an arm around the cook and taking most of the other man's weight began walking.
Conveniently, Zoro had carried Sanji back in the direction he had came from before reaching the camp. He had stopped only a mile or so back to drink from a river that ran past what seemed to be a small cave. As the green haired man had been searching for a ship, not a hideout, he hadn't paid too much attention, but now he believed he had a location where the two men could wait out the cold night.
As they moved in silence, Zoro's keenly honed senses noted that they were likely not being followed, that Sanji was shivering and, if the flinching with each step was a clue, in tremendous amounts of pain. Zoro marveled that his companion had made it through this entire ordeal relatively conscious, though he was certain that it was sheer stubbornness that was keeping the cook standing at the moment. He really wished Chopper were here; the timid deer would have Sanji patched up and resting in no time. As it was, only an evening in pain awaited the blond when Zoro finally got him to safety.
Watching Sanji out of the corner of his eye, he believed that the other man was going to need more than a doctor to get over the day's events. A defeat like this could eat away at a man's pride and self esteem, and it usually took more that will power to get through. Zoro had gotten through his own rough times by fighting, or rather killing, but he thought the outgoing chef would do better with relying on their nakama than taking the path that had nearly eroded Zoro's soul.
Yet Zoro knew that the stubborn, proud chef would likely do anything in his power to stop others from knowing what had happened to him, and the swordsman would never tell. So with the others out of the picture how was he to address and, god help him he sounded like someone's mother, comfort the pain that he could discern in the blond man's every movement, and in every furtive glance that he gave the passing terrain? He had no idea what, if anything, he could do for the nakama he would have sworn was closer to being his nemesis than his friend only an hour or so ago.
After what seemed to be ages of moving forward in silence, with Zoro basically carrying the cook as Sanji moved his feet barely enough to pretend he was still walking, the duo reached the cave Zoro had spotted earlier.
End Ch 3
Author's Notes: Longest chapter so far. I just couldn't find a good point to break this part off.
