AN: I like writing post battle ZoSan scenes.

His eye burned and Sanji wiped at it with the back of his hand working the liquid that had tried to get in back out and when he pulled it away his thumb and knuckles were stained red. He picked his way across the fallen Marines that were scattered everywhere, trying to ignore the pain flaring up his right side with each step. He berated himself silently for not having dodged the attack that had made him land awkwardly onto the sloped rocks. His shirt and jacket were tattered and bloodied, the biggest rip revealing a gash from a lucky sword wielder. It wasn't too deep but that didn't stop it from stinging like mad.

The high from the fight had settled awkwardly on him. He wanted to feel good that he'd taken down so many Marines but he'd almost been taken down himself in the process. That sudden shock of realising he was not invincible despite what the adrenaline told him made his skin itch and his stomach churn weirdly. He would've reached for a cigarette but they were left behind him, ruined and mushed in a puddle of mud. He needed to get back to the ship.

His teeth felt as though they were itching and he was dying for a smoke which only seemed to make the walk even longer. Pain wracked his body and his back ached with some unseen injury as he half staggered. If anything the Sunny seemed to be getting further and further away.

"Oi, cook!"

Sanji hadn't even realised he'd passed out until he found himself staring up into Zoro's face with the sensation of rocks underneath him. Zoro's hand touched his shoulder and he hissed as it sent a bolt of pain through him.

"Cook?"

"Hnnn, I'm fine," Sanji managed, breath raspy and grating against his vocal cords until they burned with the effort.

Zoro's one good eye looked at him sternly, "No you're not, cook. Come on," He offered a hand, "Get up."

Sanji moaned as he took Zoro's hand, his whole shoulder grinding in its socket, and let the Marimo pull him up into a sitting position. He blinked against the sudden head rush and swallowed down the sudden urge to vomit. Zoro was right, he wasn't fine.

The moss head didn't look too good either. His forehead was marred with deep scratches where his head had obviously struck something hard and a long cut ran down his right cheek, little rivers of blood pumping down his chin and neck. One collarbone had puffed up to twice its regular size with swelling, the skin a vibrant red, and his torso was riddled with cuts and marks and Sanji swore to God that was a bullet hole in Zoro's thigh.

Zoro caught him staring and shrugged despite the pain in his collarbone, "Just a scratch."

"Hell of a scratch you got there, moss head," Sanji laughed dryly and lay back down, the suddenness of a dizzy sensation threatening to make him black out.

"Oi, cook," Zoro said, "You better not faint again."

"Don't get too worried, people might think we like each other or something," Sanji smirked, coughing as the last word split and came out funny, "I... don't think I can move..."

Zoro chuckled, "Chopper's gonna be so mad at us."

"Heh... Can't be any worse than how I feel now..." The blonde snickered, hissing as pain shot up his ribs.

Zoro lay down next to him silently, grunting in his own pain, "True..."

They lapsed into a quiet that Zoro broke after a minute, "I took down 120."

"121"

"Fuck you."

Sanji smiled.