Zoro was pretty sure that he was in hell.
He was in a lot of pain but that was not the worst of it. The worst part was that he kept dreaming about these stupid eyebrows. These damned curled eyebrows, just like the ones the shitty cook possessed. They kept popping up in his dreams, dancing right in front of his eyes, tormenting him. That was far worse than any pain he could ever suffer. Slowly, he pried open his eyes, surprised by the amount of effort he had to put into it. Just as the world was settling in front of him, he again was met by a perfect set of said curled eyebrows.
Yes, he definitely was in hell. There was no doubt about it.
"Ah, Marimo, you're finally awake!", said the person that was unmistakenly attached to these shitty eyebrows. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine.", Zoro croaked and gulped in an attempt to wet his painfully dry mouth. He urgently needed to drink. Where the hell was the sake?
"You've been out for a long time, Marimo. We all weren't sure if you would wake up." said the owner of the stupid eyebrows while laughing heartily, finally drawing Zoro's fleeting attention to himself.
What was he talking about?
Irritated, he stared at the person in front of him who moved to check on some bandages he apparently seemed to have on his chest. The shitty cook looked different today. Zoro frowned. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. The idiot looked strange, somehow, so grey and wrinkly...so...
ancient.
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. As if struck by lightning, Zoro shot upright. Moving hastily, he tried to free himself from the blanket wrapped around his torso to look at himself, to discover something, anything, that might disprove his suspicions. It couldn't be, could it? However, because of the abrupt movement, a strong dizziness overcame him instead, causing him to lose his balance and fall off the bed - it was a bed, wasn't it? No, it was a table - to the floor.
The impact sent a wave of pain through his body that made him forget the awful thoughts for a moment.
"Fuck," he groaned, holding his side as he lay on the floor while waiting for the pain to subside.
"Hey, Marimo, be careful! What on earth are you doing? You certainly shouldn't get up yet!" Then he felt himself suddenly grabbed by cold hands and pulled into a sitting position. When he looked up, he saw a wrinkled old face with grey curled eyebrows.
Stifling a small cry from both the shock and the pain that took him again as he moved, he backed away from the old face.
"EH? When did you get so old, shitty cook?"
"What do you mean, Marimo?"
"You're all... wrinkly...You look like you're going to drop dead any minute! ... How long have I been asleep?"
Zoro examined his hands with concern. They looked and felt like they used to. Perhaps a little weaker than normal. However, that still didn't really give him any insight into the situation. After all, he would probably age a lot better than the idiot curly-brow.
"So rude!" cried the man in question and Zoro almost thought he could make out a tear in his wrinkled eye. "What have I done to deserve this?"
Just then, the door to the room they were in swung open and a person in a black suit entered, balancing a tray with a glass in his hand.
"What the fuck is all that shouting about...you can hear it all the way to the kitchen..." The tray carrier paused in the middle of his rant and stared at Zoro as if he had seen a ghost. "You're awake..."
Zoro, however, was far too confused to answer. What was happening here? Zoro blinked and rubbed his eyes, but nothing had changed. He was still seeing double. Perplexed, he looked back and forth between two sets of curled eyebrows. One grey, one blonde. One old, one young. One looking sad, one very annoyed.
"Sanji, please excuse the disturbance. He's just woken up and got a bit of a fright. Understandable considering he probably doesn't remember much... Oh, is that for me?"
"What? Um...yeah, here. Nami-san thought you could use a refreshment...How is he?"
"Oh, that is certainly very thoughtful of her...Mmh, delicious as always, Sanji, thank you very much. I could certainly get used to this haha...Ehem, well ... so... he just woke up and that's certainly a good thing but I've not yet examined him, so I can't say much..."
It was only when the old curly-brow called the young curly-brow Sanji that the pennies dropped for Zoro. So... the old man wasn't Sanji after all? Well, now that he could see them both better, it was quite obvious, because the older one was lacking the annoying hair Sanji had that covered half his face. Besides, only the real Sanji would obey Nami's wishes like a lapdog. But... did that also mean that his suspicions were wrong? That he hadn't slept forever and woke up sixty years later? Zoro breathed a sigh of relief. Phew, that was lucky!
At that moment, he noticed that the old man, whoever that was, and the young curly-brow, who evidently was Sanji, were staring at him with weird expressions. Their curled eyebrows twitched questioningly and in a synchronized movement.
"What's going on here? Is this old geezer your grandad or something?" Zoro blurted out. Those damned brows were creeping him out. Besides, so much Sanji-ness so soon after waking up was giving him an extreme headache.
"What..." There was a noticeable pause, during which Sanji closed his eyes while his forehead furrowed into a curled work of art in visible silent anger. "What are you talking about, Marimo?"
"What do you mean, what am I talking about? Have you looked in the mirror? You two look almost identical!" Zoro shot back. How could the stupid cook not see that? This was almost too ridiculous to be true.
The old man and Sanji looked at each other, puzzled, while Sanji's head slowly turned bright red. "What is that supposed to mean, you hollow piece of moss? Do you want to get your head kicked in? One time wasn't enough, was it?"
"Go ahead. I'll have you beaten in a minute." Fuming, Zoro tried to jump to his feet, ready to fight, but no sooner had he managed to get into an upright position than he crumpled again, barely managing to hold on to the table from which he had fallen a few minutes ago. His free hand gripped at his aching right side as everything spun around him.
Shit. What was wrong with him?
Strong hands gripped his arm and stabilized him. Zoro grumbled. Under normal circumstances, he would have slapped the hands away, but right now he couldn't trust his sense of balance. After the dizziness had subsided a little, he dared to look to his right and spotted that it was the stupid cook who was holding him up. How humiliating!
"That would be a long minute, you idiot," Sanji said with an almost gentle undertone.
"Fuck off!" Zoro shrugged off the blond's grip with a protesting grunt - and promptly crashed face first onto the table. Whatever the cook or whoever said next was drowned out by the painful buzzing that erupted in his head. With an annoyed groan, he clutched his nose, which had taken the brunt of the impact.
"...roooooooo!" a shrill laugh burst through the noise in his ears and he lifted his head, only he was too late, again much too late. Wasn't that ...
With a speed he couldn't parry, something hard and red collided with him, knocking him to the ground.
"Luffy." Zoro gasped, all the air having been knocked out of his lungs from hitting the ground. The weight of the rubber boy pressed painfully on his apparently injured side. Zoro felt Luffy's cold hands wrapped around his neck and he suddenly found himself unable to breathe. Luffy, he had fought Luffy. It had been Luffy who had knocked him out. Luffy, who had looked at him with a murderous look he had never seen before on the boy. The same Luffy who had now fallen around his neck and attacked him again - he had attacked him, right, he had tackled him - or no, was he hugging him? He couldn't say. In a panic that was completely out of character for him and that clouded his judgment, a slight whimper escaped him.
"Luffy, stop that! He's still hurt!" he heard Sanji's voice, which annoyingly still sounded worried.
Surprisingly, Luffy seemed to listen to the cook, because he pulled away from the swordsman and sat opposite him instead.
"Zoro really took his time." he said with a grin and crossed his arms in front of his chest "Has missed at least 17 meals...Sanji, now I'm hungry."
"Mmh," Zoro muttered, feeling a little more at ease now that there was a healthy distance between him and the captain of their crew. 17 missed meals. Judging by Luffy's eating habits, that was about three to four days he'd been out cold. Fuck. That's why he felt like shit.
"You idiot, you're always thinking about food. Now is not the time for that." Sanji gave their captain a light kick on the head, which only made him laugh.
Zoro sat up with difficulty and examined the rubber boy closely in an attempt to determine whether he still posed a threat or not. Was this really the same person who had attacked him so cold-bloodedly? Luffy seemed as normal as he had always been. Good-humoured and without a care in the world, entirely different from the Luffy who had attacked him. Had he just imagined it? He suppressed a groan and grabbed his head, where he felt a bandage. His headache and his side bore witness to something else. It had really happened. So, was this friendly behaviour just a ploy to lull him into a false sense of security? Or had Luffy finally broken free from whatever had gotten into him? Either way, he would probably have to keep his guard up. Just in case.
"Zoro, you're awake! Thank God!" Before he knew it, the next one had already fallen around his neck and he groaned softly as Nami unknowingly bumped into his injured side. Nami immediately took a step back as if she had touched hot coal. "Oh, sorry. I'm just so glad. You scared the hell out of us. How are you feeling?"
Behind the navigator, he saw Usopp wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Was the sniper crying?
"Fine, I'm fine." Zoro frowned in annoyance. All this attention was starting to get on his nerves.
"Um... Sure," Nami said, looking at the swordsman and not hiding the fact that she didn't believe him one bit. "Anyways, now that we're all together and conscious, we can finally sort this out. Zoro, what happened when we were away? Who did this to you? We've already asked Luffy, but he can't remember anything."
How convenient! Zoro's gaze wandered to Luffy, who was walking around the room carelessly on his hands, another thing that was normal for him. Then again, maybe he really didn't remember a thing...
"Nothing happened," he said and then concentrated all his strength on standing up without falling down again. The fact that he was also able to avoid the questioning looks of his nakama was a nice side effect.
"Wha...what do mean by 'nothing happened'?" Usopp asked, obviously very confused.
"I think that's extremely unlikely, if I may interject." the old man with the curled eyebrows raised his index finger lecturingly. "Such wounds don't appear on their own. You know, as a doctor, I certainly have a better grasp of these things than other people. Granted, patients usually know more about what happened to them than I do, but Marimo here doesn't seem to remember anything. That's why I consider myself the expert in this matter..."
"Shut up," Zoro and Sanji shouted in unison.
Sanji gave Zoro a strange look, which turned into palpable anger in a matter of seconds. "I can't believe you thought that old fart was me!"
"He called me Marimo and he has the same stupid eyebrows as you. What else was I supposed to think?" Zoro thought his conclusion was only logical.
"That is the problem. You obviously didn't think at all. Must be exhausting to have the mental capacity of a cucumber!"
As if to prove the opposite, Zoro banged his head against Sanji's, ignoring the pain it caused him, ready to shove the cook's stupid jokes right back up his ass.
"Just so you know. The style of my eyebrows is a conscious fashion choice. I pluck them regularly so that they keep this shape. I think they certainly are adorable!" the old man interjected, tracing the swirls on his forehead.
"Wait, you wear these voluntarily?" Zoro was flabbergasted, or maybe it was due to that annoying lightheadedness.
"Why wouldn't he? What's the big deal, huh? Go on, say it!" hissed Sanji on his side.
A shrill laugh interrupted the two brawlers.
"Ahahah. Sanji really does look like the scrubs guy." Laughing, Luffy held his stomach.
"Yeah, now that you've mentioned it. You do have a certain resemblance. Especially the face," commented Nami, and even Usopp nodded in agreement.
"No, Nami-san, how can you say something like that?" It was as if Sanji had suddenly lost all his powers. Zoro watched in amusement as the cook sank to the ground and made pathetic noises.
"Pff," Zoro huffed and turned away. Slowly, he put one foot in front of the other and cursed quietly as he staggered. He pressed one arm against his injured ribs, which ached with every movement. His breath was short and he wondered when he started to let himself be exhausted by such simple things. The dizziness in his head made the small room sway before his eyes, but he continued. As if he would let that stop him.
"Where do you think you're going, Zoro?" the stern voice of Nami reached his ears. Zoro halted in his tracks. Crap, if she was talking like that, it was better not to argue with her. Zoro unfortunately knew that from experience.
"Outside," he said. His hand dug into the wood of the wall as the whole room spun dangerously before his eyes. Shit.
"I don't think so." Suddenly, Nami's face was in front of him, etched with worry. She was leaning down towards him and had put a hand on his shoulder. Wait. Down? Since when was he sitting on the floor?
"You've overexerted yourself." the old man said, tormenting him again with the sight of his curled eyebrows. "You should get some more rest, Marimo...eh, that's not your name, is it? Sorry about that...I thought it was since Sanji always called you that...he certainly cares for you, you know...Always came in here, asking for you..."
"Shut it! That's not what happened!" he heard Sanji yell from behind him.
"Mmmh," Zoro closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool wooden wall of the ship. The dizziness was still ripping through his head like a tornado. A yawn escaped him and he felt the exhaustion creep into his bones. Getting some rest didn't sound so bad right now. Unconsciously, his body assumed its usual sleeping position, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed behind his head. Yes, a little rest would do him good. After all, this was one of his long-standing methods of healing after injuries. Practically a ritual. He would surely feel better after a little nap, he decided. Then, he drifted off to sleep.