A/n: Well this chapter got a little too heavy for me, so I decided to end in a cheery way ^^

Still lots of angst though no worries huhuhu~

And the next update will be late because college is a pain in the ass -_-

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Chapter 18

Zoro didn't know how long he watched the cook. When he had brought him into the little sectioned off area at the back of the large room and laid him down on one of the several metal gurneys, he wasn't ready to let the man out of his sight even for a moment. It was probably a really stupid and stubborn gesture, but nonetheless he stood slightly away, far enough to give the doctors the space they needed to work, but close enough to jump in if anything went wrong. He felt an indescribable sensation of foreboding in the pit of his stomach, unexplainable and downright annoying as hell. But he couldn't quite shake the feeling off as nerves from the past several hours.

He hadn't even noticed when he was treated. He had felt a cold, numbing prick in his arm and when he had looked down, he noticed a thin, transparent tube leading from his arm to an IV stand. He hadn't noticed the doctors speaking to him or asking him questions. He hadn't even noticed when they had moved the both of them farther into the make-shift medical area. But he had noticed the looks of horror and the grimaces on the doctors' faces when they had undone the blood-soaked bandages on the blond's chest.

He had watched with unshakable concentration, as they cleaned the wounds, applying some strong smelling chemical to the overflowing lacerations. The cook had flinched more than once, his body trembling and jolting in his half-conscious state, the unimaginable pain penetrating into the depths of his subconscious where he had buried and hidden himself. Zoro's face grew grim with every stitch and every snip of the tiny scissors, as the doctors worked relentlessly on the damaged man.

Zoro stared at the cook's face for so long, silently hoping he'd show some sort of sign that he was awake, that he was alive. Even the contorted expression of pain, or the stray whimpers that escaped his broken and bleeding lips would serve to somewhat appease the swordsman's agitated soul. The longer he looked for signs of life, the more he felt the man was slipping away from him. At one point he had the urge to grab Sanji by the shoulders and shake him roughly, screaming and demanding that he wake up that instant. But his body was rooted to the hard stool he was sitting on, his hands balled into fists so hard, that the veins in his arms were straining against his skin.

He sat there for hours, beside the rusty gurney. Even after the doctors had bandaged the stitches and connected Sanji's arm to an IV line. Even after they had assured Zoro with relieved and tired smiles that the cook would be okay. Even after Freddy had come upto him and asked him if he wanted something to eat or drink or if he maybe wanted a sleeping bag so he could rest for awhile. But no, Zoro refused to budge from the stool beside Sanji's bed. He refused to take his eyes off the man even for a moment. He was almost afraid. Afraid that if he were to look away in order to eat or drink or sleep or even blink for a second too long, Sanji would dissolve into nothingness and leave Zoro with a pile of bloody bandages and a soul full of rage, sorrow, despair and crushing guilt.

At some point, he registered Diara coming to stand beside him. She had said something – several things maybe – but everything had passed over his head or through one ear and out the other. She must've left him be after realizing he didn't give two hoots to anything she was saying, or her presence itself. Sometime later, Nami had come to sit beside him on another stool. She didn't say anything or offer him comfort through some sort of physical contact, like a pat or a hand on his knee. She simply sat there, unmoving and unspeaking. They sat there watching Sanji. Simply watching and hoping and praying. Each was thinking along different lines, but every thought of theirs interconnected and coagulated around the unconscious man.

At sudden moments, Zoro would hear a silent whimper or a sniff and other times he would hear an agitated or withdrawn sigh. He would've sympathized with her, but he knew she would want nothing of that sort, especially since she herself had seen the amount of damage Zeher had done to Sanji.

The thought of the violet-eyed man caused a storm of fury to rage through him like an erupting volcano. It began at the pit of his stomach and kept rising till it reached its peak. He could feel his shoulders and arms trembling in silent rage, his teeth clamped so hard together he feared they would break. He could barely breathe, the anger boiling in his chest made him feel congested, like he was standing on the peak of the tallest mountain where there was barely any air to breathe. He could hear his breaths coming in pants through clenched teeth and he saw red.

He wanted to kill. To murder. To butcher every single thing in proximity to them. To tear down every single building or factory till he found that bastard Zeher and ripped his heard out of his chest with his own two hands. The rage soared through him like an uncontained animal, ferocious and savage, unstoppable till it closed down on its prey. The anger bubbled and boiled within him like an overheated pot of water, ready to overflow within a moment's notice. He felt himself reaching for his side, feeling for his swords. All he could see was bloody murder. He would massacre the entire island if that was what was needed to ease the cook from his pain. He felt himself rising, a wild beast dead-set on finding and devouring its prey.

But a thin, cold hand clasping down on his burning one smashed him back to reality. Zoro looked down at a trembling Nami, her face pale and horrified, her lips quivering and unshed tears brimming her frightened brown eyes. He could see himself in those huge liquid orbs and he looked like a deranged madman, a psychotic killer who simply went on a rampage because he wanted to.

"Zoro.."

The single choked word seemed to deflate the swordsman completely. All the fight just flowed out of him like an open faucet. He collapsed back onto the stool, single eye still fixed on Nami, arms falling to his sides in fatigue. His shoulders slumped in exhaustion and a deep, tired sigh escaped his lips as his vision cleared, and he simply sat looking at the redhead in front of him.

Nami seemed to relax as well, in relief and gratitude that Zoro hadn't gone berserk. The colour seemed to return to her extremely pale, weary face. She looked completely drained and bone-tired. And Zoro didn't blame her. He couldn't even begin to imagine what she had to go through before she found them. He only hoped that it wasn't anything near what he or the blonde had to face.

Nami tilted her head questioningly, probably because Zoro had been staring at her for so long without saying anything. If it were anyone else, they would've faked a smile and patted her head or pulled her into a comforting hug, but Zoro didn't do shit like that. Instead, he gripped her hand that was still clutching his arm and jerked his head slightly, in silent gratitude.

Again, if it were anyone else, they would've thought Zoro was insane and absolutely idiotic, but Nami's face seemed to light up ever so slightly and she smiled a small but genuine smile, nodding in complete understanding. She pulled her hand free and Zoro expected her to walk away, but the redhead surprised him by gently touching his cheek for a fraction of a second, before eyeing Sanji one last time and then disappearing behind the curtains.

She'd left the curtain open, hoping that maybe Zoro would pay attention to whatever was going on in the large store-room, but as he turned his head from her receding figure to resume his initial position of watching the blond, the only thought that ran through his mind was how Nami's fingertips were freezing cold and trembled ever so slightly.

Nami couldn't exactly say that she'd slept fitfully. Honestly, even though she was completely beat and wanted nothing but a hot relaxing bath in Sunny's bathroom with a nice hot cup of cocoa and a wonderful book to read, she had fallen into a restless sleep, waking up at every rustle or whisper. Finally frustrated by her inability to get some shut-eye, she'd gone to the cordoned off area in the back of the room that was being used as a temporary medical camp.

She'd stood right outside the curtains and peeked through them, not wanting to disturb Sanji. But she was - not very pleasantly - shocked by Zoro's unrelenting form sitting by the cook's bed, his back rigid as a board, his posture stiff as a poker and the veins in his arms and neck straining from the immense pressure he was unknowingly putting on his body. If he had heard her, he hadn't turned to look. Hell, he was so still, Nami would've thought he wasn't even breathing. She watched them for a moment more and then went to freshen up, before she had been called to attend the strategy meeting held in the opposite corner of the room.

She recognized one of the men as being present with Zoro, when the crew had accidentally stumbled upon them. She wasn't quite sure of his name, hell she barely recognized the guy. Half is face was burned beyond recognition, his eye, nose and mouth looked like they had been melted and then left to harden without being remolded into shape. The other half of his face was marred with gashes and she wasn't even sure if he could see. The left half of his body was wrapped with bandages and he was leaning heavily on a metal cane, even though he was seated on a chair with a back-rest. She also recognized Freddy, Diara and a few other people she'd briefly interacted with in the past couple of hours.

She silently nodded to whoever acknowledged her presence and went to sit in the far corner of the haphazard circle. As if on cue, Diara materialized – at least the way she quietly appeared, would've fooled anyone – beside Nami, declining the seat offered to her and choosing to stand beside the carrot-haired navigator.

Nami wasn't exactly paying attention to whatever was being discussed in the group. Sometimes when an argument broke out, or someone would mention Zoro or Sanji or the crew, her ears would prick up and she'd follow the conversation till her interest dwindled and she went back to staring at the pot of burning coals in the middle.

She was so lost in thoughts about sunny beaches and spas and saunas, that when Diara touched her shoulder, she jumped three feet in the air and looked at the girl in utter bewilderment. Diara simply raised a curious eyebrow and tilted her head questioningly, as though she was chastising Nami for thinking about such unimportant and unnecessary luxuries instead of concentrating on the matter at hand. Nami almost opened her mouth to refuse the very notion of her obvious disinterest, but Diara's wide-eyed, knowing look forced Nami's mouth shut, like the girl saw right through her and any sort of excuse or explanation was a meaningless waste of time.

Nami looked away and shifted uncomfortably, still feeling the piercing gaze of the silver-haired girl beside her. Wanting to distract herself, she looked towards the opposite side of the room - which was easily visible without her having to crane her neck or change her position, from where she sat. She eyed Zoro's broad back again, currently wrapped in bandages. It was such a familiar sight, seeing the swordsman in bandages, that it didn't even come as something unnerving or worrying to her.

As she watched, Zoro's hair moved - or at least she could've sworn it moved, given her haw-eye vision. But it must've been because he shifted minimally or some random, stray, impossible breeze sifted through his unbelievably green, grass-like hair. She watched those spiky, unkempt strands and her mind drifted to a distant memory, a random scene that she had never really recalled until just then.

[On a sunny day, a few months earlier, while sailing in the New World.]

It was a wonderfully perfect afternoon, with brilliant weather, the exact temperature that made you want to kick off your shoes and lounge around outside. The crew was milling about on deck, each doing his or her own thing. Sometimes one would get bored and walk upto the other, curious as to what they were doing, and then random argument or laughter would erupt and everyone would get sucked in, ending up in the same routine of a sudden rush of excitement and raucous enthusiasm, before they all returned to a moment of quiet nothingness.

Nami was humming to herself, as she drew her maps, peaceful and content. Luffy and Usopp had gotten into another meaningless argument and Franky, Chopper and Brook were being dragged into it. In about a minute, they were all shouting excitedly and Robin was watching them, softly chuckling to herself.

Sanji had walked upto Nami and the redhead opened her mouth to tell him off, not interested in his pointless flirting and unreasonable affection, but instead the blond simply grinned at her and placed a spectacular looking drink in front of her. She thanked him gratefully, sipping the soothingly cool liquid as he sat down beside her, neither indulging in any attempt to make conversation but simply basking in the peace, quiet and each other's company.

After a time, Nami had gotten suspicious as to why Sanji was behaving so unlike himself, but when questioned, the blond had simply shrugged and thrown his head back, chortling happily at the sky. Nami had smiled and relaxed, deciding to take a break from her drawing. The two watched the rest of their Nakama and finally their eyes rested on a certain swordsman who was sitting away from them, napping silently, unaware of his boisterous crewmates around him.

Nami and Sanji had exchanged looks, she'd rolled her eyes and he'd just smirked, both wondering as to why they expected any different from the man. Then Nami, out of a sudden burst of curiosity, questioned the actual reason behind Zoro's oddly coloured hair. Sanji had looked vaguely surprised at the random question, but being the woman's man he was, had played along with her and they'd begun debating and discussing the origin of Zoro's moss-hair.

At some point, they'd reached an impasse and not knowing how else to reach an acceptable conclusion, Sanji had – from a moment of ingenuity and pure imagination – come up with a brilliant theory; that Zoro's hair stayed so green and fresh and healthy looking because it got it's nutrition directly from the man's brain, where it's roots were deeply embedded. That explained why he was such an idiot Marimo, a total dumbass and a geographically challenged fool. He was a freak of nature with moss for brains and that explained everything about the man.

Nami had laughed uncontrollably at the very idea of Sanji's theory, but the way he explained everything so seriously, believing that it was truly the reason for Zoro being the way he was, made the thought that much more hilarious. Sanji had grinned widely at her obvious delight and the rest of the crew had broken off their argument to find out the reason behind her sudden joy.

Since then, every time Sanji and Nami spotted Zoro sitting silently in a corner or if the swordsman walked by, they'd exchange knowing looks and break down in laughter. What made it that many times funnier, was how pissed off Zoro would get, not knowing what they were laughing about but knowing they were poking fun at him. He'd demanded an explanation from both of them, but neither had yielded and instead gone into more fits of laughter.

[Back to the present.]

Nami smiled fondly at the memory, her lips turning up in a full smile, something that she knew hadn't been seen on her face for over a month now. The memory of Sanji's delighted face and Zoro's contorted one caused her to chuckle softly to herself, as she propped her chin on her hand and closed her eyes. She remembered the way Sanji's eyes would dance with glee every time they shared a look and how Zoro would go red in the face every time they refused to answer him.

"Are you finding the fact that your friends are in pain, amusing?"

Nami started violently, her elbow slipping off her knee and her chin colliding with her hand with a crack. Nami looked up again, wondering why the hell the girl chose such precise moments to throw her off kilter. Diara returned her look of disconcert with one of calm and simple curiosity.

The longer Nami stared at her, the more she felt Diara knew exactly what had made her smile and she was simply asking because for some twisted reason, she wanted to hear Nami say it. Nami shook her head and turned to look at her two Nakama. "It's nothing… I just," she took a deep breath, "I just want this to end, is all."

She looked back to Diara, as though she was expecting some sort of acknowledgement from the girl. Diara smiled at her, the same gentle, kind expression she showed and Nami's heart seemed to flutter, like a young girl's would when the boy she liked smiled at her. When Nami turned away and stared at her intertwined hands, her mind was buzzing with a warm acceptance and simple satisfaction, like everything was alright with the world.

She continued to stare into the embers for a long time, so long that she didn't even realize when the meeting ended and everyone left to do whatever it was they had decided to do. But she did notice when Diara left, because when she turned and realized the girl was no longer by her side, she felt a sudden emptiness in her chest. Like someone has zapped away all the warmth and peace and replaced it with cold, hard emptiness.

Nami rose to her feet shakily. The presence of this mysterious girl unnerved her. She seemed to be affecting her mentally and emotionally far too strongly and deeply than Nami would ever allow. And the worst part was, Nami had a feeling that the girl didn't even know about it.

A/n: Mysterious, mysterious Diara~

I just wanted to take a moment to mention that the main focus in this chapter - besides all the angst and Zoro's fels and all - is Nami's relationship with the two men. Nami, Zoro and Sanji were the earliest members of the crew and have the strongest bond between them. I love how Nami is so perspective of how they feel or what they think and she understands them both so well. She's able to predict the simple things about how they would behave or react before they do, like how even though she was afraid of Zoro's frightening anger, she could still feel it and understand it and she stopped him mostly because she knew he would suffer the most if he actually went berserk.

And in the little flashback, despite Sanji always flirting with Nami, there's a depth of affection and fondness that the two share. Sometimes they can just let go of how they would behave normally and just sit there and chat about absolutely nothing. Also, simple gestures between them, like how Sanji knows exactly when and what to give Nami to eat or drink, or how just a simple touch from Zoro was enough for her to understand everything he was going through. In both times, there was no actual communication verbally, but they still just knew.

I'm sure all of you have noticed this, but I just wanted to talk about it anyway, because the relationships among the crew members is just soo precious.

That's all for my one-sided babble lol ^^' see y'all next time~

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