Your Eyes, and the Hope (?

) I See in Them
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/43270437.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Category: M/M
Fandom: One Piece
Relationship: Monkey D. Luffy/Roronoa Zoro, Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji,
Roronoa Zoro/Trafalgar D. Water Law, Crocodile/Roronoa Zoro,
Roronoa Zoro/Original Male Character(s)
Character: Roronoa Zoro, Monkey D. Luffy, Vinsmoke Sanji, Trafalgar D. Water
Law, Crocodile (One Piece), Mr. 1 | Daz Bones, Mugiwara Kaizoku |
Strawhat Pirates, Baroque Works Agents, Kuina (One Piece)
Additional Tags: Roronoa Zoro-centric, Hurt Roronoa Zoro, Rape/Non-con Elements,
Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, my
boy is HURTING, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Underage Drug Use,
Consensual Underage Sex, Underage Rape/Non-con, some blood,
Scars, References to Depression, Self-Hatred, not gonna clog the tags
too much but this gets dark so read at your discretion!, also who is
endgame?, not even the author knows, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
- PTSD, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Bartender Zoro,
Stripping, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Graphic Smut, well mostly non-
graphic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Protective Strawhats
Language: English
Collections: Marimo ⚔️
Stats: Published: 2022-11-26 Updated: 2023-08-08 Words: 133,151 Chapters:
22/?

Your Eyes, and the Hope (?) I See in Them

by aellasteel

Summary

Years ago, a young Roronoa Zoro was best friends with one Monkey D. Luffy. Then they
get separated.

Now, years later Zoro is in a bad way. He reunites with Luffy and meets the Strawhats (and
Law).

But Zoro can't seem to escape on his own. Can they help him out of the hell he's living in?
Or is he fated to be stuck in his suffering for good?

alt summary:

Zoro meets and fools around w/our strawhats and gets way closer to them than he ever
intended.
 (note: Zoro is younger (17) than Luffy (20) when the fic picks up and everyone he gets
with is older. Technically underage, so if that makes you uncomfortable don't read! Also
tw, there will be non/con in this- please read the tags and be careful)

enjoy!

Notes

zoro meets part of the gang !

See the end of the work for more notes

 i've missed you so much it burns
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Most days he can't stand to look at himself in the mirror.

The ugly scar that took away his eye is something he can't hide. All he sees is a man defeated.

No. You're still here. Still fighting.

He disgusts himself.

You haven't lost yourself yet.

There have been enough reactions from customers not to mention the other staff that have made
him ashamed of the scar. Ashamed of what it represents.

You're worthless. You're below them. You can't look them in the eyes, they are better than you.

He knows the words to be true, now.

Knows what he's good for.

You will become more than this.

Tonight he's working the bar.

It has been over a week since he last worked the stage and even longer since he worked the back
rooms.

He's much older now than when he first came to be with Sir. Has the cocktails all memorized. Has
learned to hide his feelings behind indifference. Learned that the only time he can talk normally or
look someone in the eyes is when he's flirting and that it makes for better tips anyway.

He's a good bartender, one of three that work there and the best out of them. The irony isn't lost on
him that he's underage and the best they have, but it's not his place to question things like that.

There's a large crowd, as there always is on Friday night. He enjoys the busyness. The constant
movement of his hands as he makes and pours drinks keeps his mind off everything else. Like
thinking about how he plans to escape this time.

Last time he tried it was a year prior when Crocodie was out of town. But his plan was found out.
Mr. 1 had found him a state away. Knocked him cold and tied him down. Brought him back until
Sir returned and beat him bloody.
He tries it every so often- to leave.

Crocodile owns him.

Has owned him for so many years that the exact count has slipped away.

He hasn't given up. Still tries valiantly to escape each time. But it's not enough, it never is and he
knows there's something he's missing. Somehow he's always found. How, he doesn't know.

So the night's distraction is good. Stops him from going crazy with thoughts that are too much and
too big.

You can't leave. He'll never let you leave.

His bruised knuckles throb as he closes his fist around a mug to fill.

"Oi, a French 75, please."

He finishes refilling the beer and slides it over, then turns to the source of the voice.

His customary quick glance reveals a young man his height, blonde hair, blue eyes, curly- curly?-
eyebrow. He's handsome, though. Zoro averts his gaze.

The shaker is grabbed before he knows it and then he lets his hands take over the process. They
grab the gin, halved lemons, and syrup. Shake, strain, pour, and garnish while also refilling a lady's
drink. He feels the man's heavy gaze on him the whole time.

"I'm celebrating." The man says when he sets the cocktail in front of him.

Zoro glances around, sees no other customers waiting to order. Decides to engage in whatever
conversation the man wants to have. He nods, for the man to continue.

The blonde sighs, sipping the drink. "I got promoted today. Youngest head chef my restaurant has
seen-" Another sip. "This is good."

He nods again in thanks.

"You look young, yourself." The man points out, eyes slightly suspicious.

The response is instant- and a lie. "Legal." He rushes out.

The man hums at that. "The position has been a long time coming, anyway. I ... I can go
somewhere else if I'm bothering you."

Quickly Zoro shakes his head, points to him, "Celebration."

"Not a big talker, huh?" The man chuckles. "Well, alright."

The man- blondie he decides to call him in his mind- takes another sip of his drink and Zoro finds
himself asking, "New?"

Blondie looks confused. "The ... the drink? No I've had it before."
He shakes his head. Repeats, "New?" And juts his head at him.

He's always had trouble conversing. He tries not to give power to the voice in the back of his head
that yells at him you don't deserve to speak, no one cares what you have to say. But it's hard,
especially when it feels like a chore to even open his mouth to let the words out. The only reason
you should be opening your mouth is to suck-

Another furrow of brows. "Oh," Blondie's eyes widen, "Me? You're asking if I'm new in town?"

He nods.

"No, no. I've been here for a year now. I used to live in the city, then it got to be too much of a
hassle. I still work there because of the restaurant but now I just commute there from here."
Blondie smiles softly. "It's a much less stressful life out here."

The town they're in is a good size and in a good spot. A short drive to the city in one direction and
a short drive to more of the countryside in the other.

It's also his prison and he hates every fucking part of it. Except maybe the gym down the street.

"How about yourself? I've only been in here once before with some friends and it wasn't for the
drinking." He huffs a laugh and vaguely gestures to the stage behind him. "But I don't think I saw
you, are you new here?"

It's been years. Zoro shakes his head.

Blondie cracks a small smile when he doesn't elaborate. "Well tell me how your shift's been going
at least?"

I'm halfway through it and won't remember a minute of it tomorrow. He shrugs in answer. Then
thinks- Maybe I can make a buck here. He leans forward. "Better since you came in." And smiles a
lazy smile.

Blondie flushes pink, mouth drops into a small 'o' in shock. "Don't try flirting with me you shitty
mosshead." He grumbles out.

And the tone is just on the line of too serious but the man looks like he might enjoy pet names so
Zoro figures he's in the clear to say, "What, don't like what you see, baby?"

Blondie splutters, face now absolutely red, and takes a second to recover. Growls, "Lay off,
cyclops."

And the insult rolls off him like water. He hears the harsh words often enough to know their only
relevant meaning to him- no tip today.

He nods, takes the cue. "Sorry." He steps away from the man a little and continues some of his
prep work.

Blondie just scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. He downs the rest of his drink.

"Another?"

The man nods. "Water with it too."

He takes the empty glass and puts it to the side, starts on the refill.
The man sits there for hours into the night, often staring off into the distance. The more buzzed he
gets, the shorter his fuse seems to be- constantly muttering complaints under his breath. Despite all
that he seems happy, though.

Zoro doesn't bother him.

It's a young crowd today that only gets younger as the night goes on. He eyes the stage of dancers
warily. Sir said he'd be up there for most of the upcoming weekends, since the other two
bartenders will have the bar covered. It's better than the back rooms. There's a man and woman up
there now. He recognizes them vaguely. A pair that Sir had contracted for the last few months .
Barely dressed, leaning and spinning gracefully on the bars. They've got a few minutes left before
they leave- always an hour before close since that's when the crowd thins out.

He'd never been the best at it, but when there weren't enough people, that's where Crocodile would
have him be for the night. A good-looking body is a good-looking body, after all- and with my
workouts and a crap ton of makeup to cover the scars, mine isn't half bad. With the pair's contract
ending soon, Sir seemed to have run up on a shortage for the near future. It's better than the back
rooms. It's better than the back rooms. It's better than-

"Oi, mosshead."

Zoro walks over from where he was cleaning the counter. Raises an eyebrow at the man.

Somehow Blondie doesn't seem too drunk when he says, "You're kind of handsome."

He doesn't respond. Waits for the man to either order another drink or drop it. He already tried
flirting once with the man tonight and was rejected. Wherever this is coming from now, he doesn't
know if he wants to get into it.

The man sighs. "I think I'm done drinking for tonight. When do you finish your shift?"

The question doesn't surprise him. "Late."

Blondie nods. "I can wait." As though Zoro has already agreed to go with him.

He scowls instead, eyes focused on the man's chin which sports a light goatee. "No. Late." He
repeats again.

"But I'm celebrating." The man pouts. "Don't wanna go home to an empty bed." He mumbles the
last part into his drink.

He's attractive, Zoro has to admit, and it's always a plus when they're around his age- though
Blondie does look a few years older. But it's been months since he last went home with someone.
He's never normally in the mood for sex unless he has to, and Crocodile will probably be expecting
him in bed after close. Zoro's scowl deepens. "Go home."

"Not without you." Blondie sets his glass down. "C'mon, tell me you want this too." The man
looks at him with a hooded gaze.

Again, he doesn't respond. And he doesn't not want it. But he really only flirted earlier for an extra
tip. And it's 1am, they close at 2, and he still has clean up after. "Close at 2."
"I work at a restuarant, I know closing time doesn't mean you're done. What time do you leave?"

"After cleaning. Around 3."

More nodding. "I'll wait. But only if you'll come with me after."

He has a hopeful look in his eyes and, truly, who is Zoro to deny him? Not to mention it's been a
long time since he last sought someone out for the sake of his own pleasure. Screw Crocodile. I'll
be Blondie's bed warmer for tonight. Sir won't even notice his absence- Zoro often sleeps in the bar
after closing up anway.

Zoro is the one to nod, now. "Don't know you. Talk." It's not a direct yes, but it's as close as he can
say.

Blondie's eyes light up and he kicks into a story.

"You sure?"

They're at Blondie's apartment now. Which was surprisingly very close to the bar, only a ten
minute walk. The fresh air sobers Blondie up the rest of the way and Zoro hasn't drank at all.

He doesn't get nervous. Not about this. Sex is something he does even better than bartending- has
far more experience with it than he'd ever like. So no he doesn't get nervous. But he knows
Blondie rejected his flirting at first. And he knows it's late- early?- the sky just starting to lighten at
the 3am summer hour.

So he's just double checking.

Blondie shuts the door, sets his keys down, shrugs off his jacket. Reaches to take off Zoro's then
realizes he's not wearing one. He smiles. "Kiss me, Mosshead." And steps in.

Blondie had said he doesn't have work today- nothing to wake up early for- but Zoro knows it's
late. So he wastes no time in grabbing the back of Blondie's neck and pulling him in close, threads
the other hand through his blond hair and tugs at it as he kisses him. "Zoro," he corrects. Blondie
nods, then gasps and Zoro places his leg between Blondie's own. Lets him rock his hips against it
softly.

"Eager." He mumbles contentedly against Blondie's lips. Can feel the hardness through Blondie's
black trousers where they press against his leg.

"It's been a few months," Blondie grumbles, face red and he tilts it away from Zoro.

He makes a noise of disapproval at the movement. Uses the opportunity to kiss his way down
Blondie's exposed neck. He sucks a bite over the man's pulse point. Lets his hands linger on the
buttons of his dress shirt. "May I?"

A soft whine leaves his lips as Zoro nips under his ear. "Please." His voice is deep with arousal.
Zoro's hands undo the shirt swiftly and push it off his shoulders. Then run up and down bare skin
that burns under his touch. Blondie shivers as rough fingers brush over his nipples. Zoro presses a
series of hot kisses to Blondie's mouth before travelling downward once again, kissing and biting
across the man's softly muscled chest. "Sensitive." He remarks with a small grin, tongue swirling
around a tan nipple. Blondie's hands tighten in his hair in response as though to hold him there.

"Don't be a tease, Zoro." Blondie pants. And Zoro listens. Is on his knees now, palming the front of
Blondie's pants. Said man's breathing is heavy and when Zoro looks up, he meets blue eyes blown
wide. He's not supposed to look at people like this. But those blue eyes are so beautiful, and
Blondie is leveling that heady gaze at him and he doesn't want to stop looking.

You're worthless. Don't deserve to meet his gaze.

The thought makes him look away but it isn't enough to sour his mood. Eagerly he surges forward,
almost knocking the man off his feet as he unzips his pants with his teeth. He smiles up at him
wolfishly. Lets his hands linger on the man's hips, just above the waistband. Blondie huffs, shoves
his pants down and kicks them off. Zoro grips him through his boxers and Blondie groans. He
shifts his hand, keeps his touch light, then holds him steady. "Why don't you finish stripping and
go get comfortable for me?" The words come easy. Somehow they only do in times like these.

Blondie nods, breathlessly says, "Yes, yeah. Okay."

Zoro stands up with the man's offered hand, then uses it to pin him backwards against the nearby
wall. Blondie gasps, "Zoro." His chest heaves with every breath where it's pressed to the wall.
Zoro keeps his wrists held above his head, thrusts his hips against Blondie's ass, bites the skin of
his back softly. "First, tell me what you like."

Blondie just pants, arches his back and thrusts back to meet Zoro.

He makes a disapproving sound. "C'mon, baby, tell me how you want me."

Blondie holds his tongue. So Zoro sinks his teeth into skin, thrusts especially hard against the
man's clothed ass.

He keens, then. "Please. Please, Zoro."

"Please, what, baby?" He soothes the bite mark with his tongue. "Need to hear you say it."

It takes another moment and another kiss under his ear before a plea tumbles from his lips. "Want
you in me. Please, lemme have it."

Zoro smiles against the man's neck. Releases his wrists to turn him around. Kisses him filthy, and
when they break apart there's a line of saliva connecting them together for a second. "So good for
me, baby. Go lay down." =

Blondie is quick to listen, only stumbling slightly as he makes his way down a short hallway.

Zoro stares at the doorway he's just disappeared past. Takes a second. Then has to take another.

It's okay to feel pleasure.

You're choosing this. You want this. And that's okay. You're good at this, can be good for him.

You're a warm body, and you can be what Blondie needs for tonight.
It's simple, keep it that way.

A final deep breath and he's moving, following the path Blondie took. When he steps through the
doorway, Blondie is fully nude, sprawled out on his back, hand stroking his dick slowly. "What'd
you get lost?" He's got a smirk on his face and damn that's a good look on him.

The seconds he took to himself did wonders because his mind feels ever clear. "You're gorgeous."

Blondie's neck and chest burn at the easy compliment.

And Zoro moves forward as though pulled.

Zoro runs his fingers through Blondie's hair. The man makes a pleased hum in his sleep. Then,
slowly, he detaches himself. Untangles his limbs from Blondie's own, careful not to wake him. He
doesn't go home with people often enough to know the exact etiquitte but he thinks leaving without
saying anything probably isn't the most smiled upon thing to do.

Can't help it, he thinks as he gathers the few articles of clothing he had taken off just a couple
hours ago.

They went for about an hour. After a few rounds Blondie was thoroughly fucked out and spent-
though Zoro still had a lot of energy left. He collapsed onto his pillow and tugged Zoro down with
him who pulled away, insistent on cleaning them up first. And is he ever grateful for that now- to
not have to wipe dried cum off himself before redressing. Blondie had fallen asleep almost
instantly. The same sleep did not find Zoro. He laid there for two hours before deciding to take his
leave.

No point in staying here, especially if Crocodile has already realized I left last night.

He sighs, opening the door to Blondie's bedroom and stepping out, shutting it softly behind him.
Hopefully Sir hasn't noticed. Then shrugs to himself. Even so, nothing he hasn't been through
before. Nothing he can't handle.

You deserve it anyway. The only way you're good is when you're on your knees. Either pleasuring
him or taking a beating.

Worthless piece of-

He forcefully shoves his thoughts down. For this morning- after the long, ableit good, night he's
had- they're too much. He forces his mind empty.

Which is probably why when he sees two guys a little older than him sprawled out on the couch,
playstation controllers in hand and eyes almost glazed where they stare intensely at the TV on the
wall- he just stares blankly. There's a bowl of chips between them. It balances dangerously at the
edge of the couch, almost tilting over with every excited jump they make.
"Aw- cmon Lu-! I'm the one that knocked him, I should get his loot!" One of them whisper-shouts.
He has a long nose and pretty hair that's brown, curly, and pulled into a messy bun.

He doesn't hear the other one's argument. And if he wasn't already standing still , he would've
frozen in place. Because the other man sitting just a few feet away from him is none other than-

"Luffy!" Long-nose complains again.

Zoro should really start moving, stop just standing there like an idiot, but he can't make his legs
listen.

Luffy.

He sees the black hair, dark and wide eyes, round face, gangly limbs. But no- more than that- he
can feel that it's him. Zoro could recognize this man with his eye closed.

Luffy.

He lets the name roll around in his mind.

Luffy.

He goes back.

Green fields.

A small rural town where nothing much happened any of the time.

It was on the coast. They used to play in the lighthouse there. Dreamed of sailing the world.

His best friend for a long summer until-

"-eep! Luffy do something!" Long-nose makes a particularly loud shout.

Zoro snaps himself out of his daze. Just in time to catch the pillow that comes hurtling at his face.

Then he hears a laugh that is all sunshine and easy days.

It almost- almost- sends him back into another daydream of better times.

"He's not scary, Usopp." Luffy scolds, though his tone is lighthearted. "He was just helping Sanji,
right green guy? You're not here to hurt anyone?"

The shock of the conversation doesn't show on his face. Long-nose was scared of him? Well, that
much is evident by the pillow he threw at him and his shaking limbs as he ducks behind Luffy.
But, no, more than that- more importantly-

Luffy doesn't remember me.

Then

Of course he doesn't remember, why would he?

It was years ago.

Years.

And what have you achieved since then?

Nothing.

Distantly he realizes he hasn't moved. Hasn't responded to the situation or to Luffy's question. Shit.

He nods.

Then so does Luffy, as though he now understands everything. He smiles. "See? Told you Usopp!
Green guy isn't here to hurt us."

Usopp shoves at Luffy. "He only nodded. What if that nod meant that yes, he is here to hurt us!
Have some doubt, bastard!"

A thoughtful expression crosses his face. "Oh, you're right." Then he looks Zoro up and down,
slowly.

Zoro's cheeks burn softly.

The whole thing feels distant. Like a dream.

Then Luffy is laughing again and it's a sound that makes Zoro absolutely ache. "Nah, he won't do
anything."

And he's right of course. Zoro was only here for Blondie. Blondie who he fucked into bliss and is
now asleep in the other room.

"Oi, green guy, you wanna play?" He has a mischevious smile on as he gestures to his controller.

The urge to just say yes, to give Luffy anything and everything just to be allowed in his presence a
little longer is overwhelming. He doesn't know you. He overcomes the urge. Can't stay anyway,
Crocodile is probably waiting to beat my ass.

And Luffy doesn't even remember you.

He shakes his head. "Leaving."

Usopp yelps again at the sound of his voice.

Luffy just nods. "Luffy," he says and he stretches out his arm, "It was nice to meet you, green guy."

Then, for the first time since seeing him, he moves one foot in front of the other and walks to him.

Usopp jumps at his approach. Luffy just smiles as Zoro grabs his hand. It's soft. Instict then takes
over and before he can think too hard about it, he raises the hand up to his lips. Brushes a light kiss
to knuckles. Lets go.

Luffy giggles. Usopp looks mortified. "Shi-shi-shi- that tickled!"

 Zoro steps back. He wants to drop to his knees and thank him for the time they spent together as
kids. I never got the chance to before. Those few months were the best of his life- when I was free-
and he needs Luffy to know that. Needs him to know that thinking about him helped during hard
times when he was left bleeding and open. Needs him to know that he hasn't given up yet.

He says nothing. Swallows the words on his tongue. Because-

Because Luffy doesn't remember.

Didn't recognize you and- how could he? Disfigured as you are.

He says nothing because he knows- despite the ache in his bones to reaquaint himself with the only
true friend he's ever known- he is no more than a past thing to Luffy.

He didn't recognize you. Do you really want him to learn what you've become?

He walks to the door. "Lock." He manages to say. Then leaves Luffy on the couch. Shuts the door
softly on his way out, heart in his throat.

Chapter End Notes

alright, first chapter done and out! will probably go back and edit who knows

wont be steady updates but ill try my best

 your warm skin under my scarred hands (it's all i ask for)
Chapter Summary

zoro goes through it but also meets law (and bepo!)

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

He traps the sound of pain behind clenched teeth as he pours cheap alcohol over the deep cut. It
stings. Burns. So much so that he contemplates drinking some of the liquid just to take the edge
off. But no he hasn't touched a drop since-

Stop it. Focus. Don't think about useless things.

There's a steady flow of blood streaming from the two largest cuts on his stomach and thigh.

It had been two days since he snuck out to spend the night with Blondie. Crocodile was waiting for
him when he got back that morning. At the time he hadn't done anything. Barely glanced twice at
him. But he knew. And Zoro knew he knew. But Zoro was supposed to work the stage the next two
nights and not many people find a bruised and bleeding man dancing in front of them sexy enough
to pay money. So Sir didn't lay a hand on him. Small mercies. Or so he thought.

Instead Crocodile's frustration and anger built over those two days. Until it bubbled over like an
unwatched pot and he got piss drunk, waited for Zoro on his bed with a broken bottle in hand.

It's always worse when Sir gets drunk. At least sober he has his wits about him. Is aware enough to
know when he should stop. But when his mind swims with alcohol already, it makes it that much
easier for him to bring Zoro within an inch of his life.

He's knocked out on the bed now- courtesy of Zoro. It would've happened on it's own from the
amount of alcohol he consumed but Zoro wasn't sure he'd come away with his life if he let Sir keep
going. After Sir sliced the long gash down his thigh and laughed- all while thrusting in and out of
him agonizingly slowly- Zoro had promptly slammed his elbow into Sir's jaw. He collapsed on top
of him instantly.

It was a struggle to get out from under him because Sir is huge and was still inside him- not to
mention Zoro's leg felt like it was lit on fire and actively streamed blood onto the bed sheets.

He managed somehow, and dragged himself across the floor into the bathroom.

It looks like a crime scene now, tile slick with blood. And maybe he should've done this in the
shower but, well, he never claimed to be the brightest.

With shaky hands he wraps a cloth around his stomach, presses a towel to the joint between hip and
thigh- where the wound starts- and takes up needle and thread from the kit next to him. He decides
to start at the bottom of the wound- a few inches above his right knee- since that's where it's
deepest and bleeding the most.

He tries not to think how this will affect his walking.

Sticking a needle into his skin is always painful. But normally not so painful as the injury itself and
by now he's an expert. If his hands would stop shaking that would be awesome though.

Distantly he thinks maybe this is it. And a laugh bubbles out of him, raw and ugly.

It hurts.

I can't die, not like this. Not while I'm still stuck here. I can't- not by his hand.

He's sure his nerve endings licking flames up his leg is the only thing keeping him awake. It takes
more effort than it should to keep his good eye from closing. Everything feels so heavy.

Drifting in and out of consciousness while trying to stitch up a life-threatening injury probably isn't
good but then again he barely has any thoughts in his head to focus on anything other than in, out,
pull, open your eye, in out pull- one stitch at a time.

He must officially pass out halfway through stitching up the gash on his stomach. When he
flinches back into his body, everything is a blur of pain and red for a moment. Then he sees the
blood still flowing from his abdomen. He curses, scrambles around for the dropped needle and
finishes closing it up.

When it's all said and done his cheeks are wet. He slams his head against the wall behind him.
Fuck. Fucking Crocodile- was he always this bad?

I won't be able to move normally on this piece of shit leg for at least a couple days.

Shit.

More tears stream down his face.

I can't keep doing this.

I can't stay here.

One of these days he's gonna kill me.

After what must be an eternity drifting in and out of consciousness, he eventually he musters
enough strength to prop himself off the wall. Uses it to stand on his shaky, uninjured leg.

He almost slips from the blood on the floor. Manages to catch himself. He limps his way back into
the bedroom, using the wall as support. There's a trail of blood leading from the bed to the
bathroom. He glares at it deliriously. Then at Crocodile.

Just looking at the bed makes his skin itch, so he drags his leg along and slowly, excruciatingly
painfully, settles in against the wall facing Crocodile's side of the bed.

He finally passes out staring at the scar on Sir's face, escape plan the only thing on his mind.
.

He keeps meeting weird people. He supposes it comes with the work and he's not in a position to
talk much himself. But even he has to admit this is a little much.

And Zoro's not even referring to the lanky man in the fluffy hat with 'D E A T H' tattooed on his
knuckles. No, he's talking about the guy he's with- tall and dressed like a white bear.

'Death' guy stares at him for a moment. "I'm Law. This is Bepo." He introduces.

Zoro nods. Keeps his gaze on the tattoos on the man's chest that peek out from above his partially
unbuttoned yellow shirt.

"Are your eyes grey?"

His brows furrow at the odd question. It doesn't make him look up at the man, though he wants to.
And it's 'eye', singular, not 'eyes'. Though that much should be obvious. "Don't know." He says.
And it's the truth. He knows his eye is a dark color- never can quite look at himself long enough to
focus on which color exactly.

'Death' guy keeps the stare on him. Bear man has walked off somewhere.

"How old are you?"

He doesn't answer. "Cute." He deadpans instead, because the man is. Then, "Order?"

The man smirks. "Shot of tequila with a sangrita chaser."

Zoro nods, goes to start making it, then stops himself. "Bear. Drink?" He asks in reference to the
bear guy with him that had gone somewhere.

The guy suddenly reappears. "Hey, I'm not just a bear. I'm a mink!" Zoro blinks at him,
unflinchingly.

"Drink?" He repeats.

"Oh yeah! A soda, please. It's Captain's birthday!" Mink grabs and shakes 'Death' guy's shoulders.

The man scowls at him.

"I'm so sorry." Mink instantly drops his hands and apologizes sincerely to the scowling man.

Unfazed by the interaction, he asks "Law?" While starting to make the drinks.

'Death' guy switches his attention back to Zoro. "Yes?"

"Captain." It's a question. But it doesn't come out like that. His words never come out how he
wants them to. And he curses his inability to just fucking talk normally when the man's brows knit.

He looks confused for several moments. Then hesitantly asks, "Are you ... asking why he called
me Captain?"

Zoro nods, relieved. The man wasn't totally off. "Name." He clarifies.

"Oh." He brightens slightly then. "My name is Law, yes. I recently acquired a boat that I
sometimes take him around on, so he started calling me Captain."

He nods again in thanks for the explanation.

"And your name would be ...?" Law trails off as Zoro sets down their drinks.

"Zoro."

"Nice to meet you, Zoro-ya." Law knocks the shot back then sips at the chaser. Mink gulps down
his soda.

Then, because the bar has been especially slow today and the man hasn't insulted him yet- and
since there's no one else waiting- he grabs the jigger and mixes another drink. It only takes a
minute before he sets down the new shot glass topped with sugar and a lemon in front of the man.

Law blinks down at it. "I didn't order anything else, yet."

Zoro shakes his head. "Birthday." And nods at him to take it.

The man smiles something fierce. "And what is it you made me exactly?"

"Birthday cake shooter." Zoro shrugs.

"What a nice present." He says, then takes the shot. "Thank you, Zoro-ya."

He nods in acknowledgment.

"But I can think of a better present from you. Do you have anywhere to be after close?"

He sees Mink smile wide from the corner of his eye.

He shakes his head.

And Law has that same damn smile on when he says, "Would you want to come home with me?"

What is up with cute guys asking him home recently? Yes he gets asked pretty regularly but that's
normally by old guys and cougars- not by men that look like Law.

It's almost 1:30 am. And he'll be doing last call soon. He doesn't think he'd mind going home with
the man. Law seems experienced. And he's polite and handsome. But the aftermath of the incident
with Blondie is all too fresh in his mind. Hell, the wounds are still barely holding together.

"Present?" He asks.

Law nods.

"Want a kiss?" He offers with a shrug. Because he can't go home with the man, won't risk angering
Crocodile further so close to his planned escape.

Law's smile widens and he leans forward. "I'd be honored."

Zoro does the same, half-over the counter due to Law's tall stature. He hears Mink whistle when
their lips meet.

The man tries to pull him closer but Zoro keeps it short and sweet. Just long enough to enjoy the
taste of lemon on the man's lips.

When he rocks back onto his feet he gets another reminder of exactly why he shouldn't go out
tonight. It comes in the form of several stitches on his stomach ripping open. He just barely
manages to hide his wince. But fuck it hurts. I haven't even made last call yet.

Thankfully Mink distracts Law with a comment on something or other so he can think about what
the hell to do.

It's a thursday night so most of the other staff have been sent home. If it were a saturday, a waitress
would still be here until close with him and he could've had them watch the bar while he does
something to stop the bleeding. But it's not saturday, it's a weeknight so think.

Fuck.

Fuck. Maybe Mr. 4 could watch it for a minute? It's close to closing anyway, there shouldn't be too
many new people coming in. Fuck. It'll have to work. He feels his shirt sticking to his stomach
where it's now damp with blood. Glances over at the door and finds Mr. 4 just standing there. The
huge bouncer stares blankly at the wall in front of him, a dopey smile on his face. Great. He's high
again. Off his ass, it looks like.

Whatever, there's no one else.

"S'cuse me." He says to Law and Mink, and he walks out from behind the bar, hand on his
stomach. "Mr. 4," he calls upon getting closer. "Watch the bar."

The big man makes no sign of recognition that Zoro has even spoken.

Jeez, what did he take? He steps in close and shakes his shoulder roughly. "Mr. 4."

He comes to attention and slowly turns his head down to Zoro. Grunts at him.

"Bleeding. Watch the bar."

The responding grunt sounds vaguely affirmative but Zoro doesn't have much time to question it.
He nods instead, not at all trusting the man to keep an eye but also having no better option.

He limps past the bar- grateful that neither Law nor Mink notice him- and into the storage room.
There's a first-aid kit he always keeps here for shit like this, but he doesn't exactly have the time to
stitch himself back up- not with smoked out dumbass Mr. 4 watching the bar out there. Instead he
opens the kit, bloody hands leaving a red smear against the white. Takes out a long bandage wrap.

Surprisingly steady hands manage to secure the bandage tight enough around him that he shouldn't
be at an immediate risk of bleeding out in the next twenty minutes until he can close the bar. He
washes his hands underneath the rusted faucet by the door.

Good enough, really.

Except his shirt is soaked red where the wound bled through. He walks to the small mattress
tucked into the far corner of the room. It sits among barrels and boxes of alcohol, with a small
stack of clothes next to it. He sleeps down here enough and has had enough customers spill drinks
on him to keep a few changes of clothes back here. He grabs a shirt of the top of the stack and
swaps. Only struggling slightly- ok more than slightly- to slip his arms into the new one.

Surprisingly the bar hasn't been robbed or set on fire when he steps back out, though Mr. 4 is
completely turned away from it. He sighs, takes his place back behind the bar.

Mink has gone somewhere and it's just Law seated in front of him. There's only a small handful of
people left in the place. He cleans up a little, wiping down tables and the counter for a few minutes
before calling out for last drinks. One man asks for a refill but mostly everyone else comes to pay
for their orders of the night.

His tip jar is a little more full by the time they finish paying and soon the only people left are him,
Law, and Mr. 4's high ass.

Law looks contemplative.

"Mink?"

He looks up at him, eyes tired but content. "Bepo? What about him?"

"Where?" Zoro elaborates.

"Oh," he breathes out a soft sigh. "His uber came."

He nods. "You?"

Law- who shakes his head. The fluffy hat on his head flops a little with the motion. "I drove here. I
didn't drink too much so I'll be okay to drive back. Have ... did you rethink coming home with
me?"

"Can't." He says. Because he can't.

The man hums. "Shame." His eyes move up and down Zoro's body appreciatively. Then they
widen. "You- you're bleeding."

Shit. Zoro's eyes snap down to where the wound on his stomach has already bled through his new
shirt. "It's fine." He covers the blood with his hand.

"Fine?" Law asks incredulously.

Zoro nods. "After close." There's only a few minutes left till 2am now. Once those doors are shut
and locked he can stitch himself up good.

Law barks out a laugh devoid of humor. "You have to be joking, Zoro-ya. What is it- were you
stabbed?"

Sliced. He nods.

"Do you need a ride to the hospital, is that it?"

Quickly, Zoro shakes his head.

"I won't leave you here bleeding." His voice is firm. "I'm a surgeon. At least let me take a look at
it." He stands.

"After close." He repeats.

Law's eyes sharpen with a muted anger. "I won't let you wait this out. I'm sure you can close some
minutes early just for today. There's no one else in here besides us."

Fuck, he's insistent.

And that's how he finds himself in the backseat of Law's car- a modest one for him being a surgeon
and all. He sent Mr. 4 home and locked the place up before following the man to his car. Maybe
he's being too trusting, but he also can't find it in himself to care.

"What happened?" Nimble fingers work to thread the needle and clean his stomach of the dried
blood.

Zoro stays silent, lets the man's hands work over his body.

He sighs. "Well I'm going to start. This will hurt." He hovers the needle over Zoro's skin. Waits.

Zoro nods, signals for the go ahead.. He knows the pain, is all too used to it. Law nods in response,
then wastes no time in puncturing through skin.

Each tug of a new stitch has his fists tightening their hold on the leather seats. But he makes no
noise.

The silence is broken by another question. "Who treated you the first time?" Law asks. Referring to
the jank stitch-job that had been barely holding the wound together.

A moment passes. He debates giving the man an answer. Then figures the truth has never hurt him
more than he can handle. "Me."

Law's gaze snaps up to him for a moment. Expression shocked. "Why?" Then he seems to mentally
shake himself and is back to focusing on the wound. "Well, you did a shit job." He says, bluntly.

Zoro hums in agreement. Though in his defense he was half-delirious from blood loss at the time.

Law sighs, gloved hands making quick work of the wound and before he knows it, the man is
already taping down a sheet of gauze. "All done." He breathes out. Everything he had taken out to
work on Zoro is quickly cleaned and put back into its box.

His stomach still throbs but it's muted and he's no longer at risk of bleeding out. "Thank you." He
says, reverently. Grabs Law's hand and presses a long kiss to the tan palm. When he lets up there's
a slight blush on the man's face. So, not letting up on his grip, he leads Law's hand to his chest
where the appreciation he has for the man feels tangible and lets go. Law sucks in a breath. The
tattooed fingers splay over his shirt right above his heart. "Thank you," Zoro repeats.

After a few beats, and almost reluctantly, Law removes his hand. Breathes out a laugh. "Well,
you've certainly made this a memorable birthday, Zoro-ya."

Zoro grabs the man's collar loosely. "Can- Wanna give you another present."

"Really?" Law's eyes darken. "And what would that be?"

"C'mere."

It's all too easy to pull him in for a sweet peck that quickly turns into a messy, open-mouthed kiss.
Law shifts so that he's between Zoro's legs, leaning over him as Zoro licks into his mouth.

"Shit, can't-" Law protests gently, and pulls off. Zoro keeps him close though, presses hot kisses
underneath the man's defined jaw. Law pushes him away until they're resting forehead to forehead.
His breath is hot against Zoro's lips. Chest heaving up and down with heavy breaths.

"C'mon." He tugs at the man's shirt.

"You're hurt, Zoro-ya. I just finished stitching you back up." He says, and starts to move back from
where he was hovered over Zoro's torso.

He makes a complaining noise. "I'll be good, promise." They're already pressed so close in the
backseat of his car, it's easy for Zoro to lean forward and sling an arm around his neck. Kiss Law's
exposed collarbone.

Maybe it's the kiss they shared earlier. Maybe it's the way he treated Zoro with no complaints. But
he wants him. Needs to show him his thanks. He tangles his fingers into the man's soft black hair.
Tugs slightly and nips at his neck.

Law groans.

"Zoro-ya, we shouldn't." He tries to pull away again. Zoro- mindful of his recently cut open
stomach- pulls him back in and flush against himself.

His voice is gruff when he demands, "Be honest." He eases up on his grip to get the message
across. When it comes to sex he has never once forced it upon someone- knows how that feels too
intimately. If Law really doesn't want this, I won't force it. But the man's molten gaze is telling him
otherwise. And I really want to thank him.

Law sighs. His hands drift to Zoro's hips. Rub soothing circles into the skin not exposed. He hadn't
taken his shirt off all the way, just lifted it up enough for Law to be able to treat the wound. "I don't
want to hurt you."

"Won't." He says, and resists the urge to just rip the Law's shirt off. "Just gonna thank you."

Law takes another second. Then he's sighing again and he nods- a singular, sharp motion. "Okay.
Okay."

Zoro smiles, rolls his hips against the Law's as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and presses
a kiss to his neck. Makes quick work of unbuttoning the yellow shirt. Then he pushes him back
until he's leaning back against the car door, half sprawled over the seats.

It only twinges slightly when he leans over Law, kisses the man's belly and scratches his sides. His
skin is hot under Zoro's tongue.

"What are-" He cuts off with a breathy moan when Zoro slips a hand into his pants. He cups Law's
clothed dick. Pushes the the man's pants down with his other hand. And if he thought the man's
skin was warm, his dick feels like it's radiating heat through the dark boxers. And shit- he's big.

He leans down and with some readjusting, is face to face with the Law's crotch. He sucks a wet
spot onto the boxers. Grabs clothed balls and fondles them.

Then- because Law is far too silent, and he seems the type to maybe enjoy it- Zoro rubs his cheek
against Law's hard cock. "Gonna let me take care of you, daddy?"

The groan Law lets out is downright sinful. He bucks his hips upward, seeking friction. "Shit." He
swears, hands tangling into Zoro's hair. Zoro pulls the man's boxers down. His cock springs out,
long and- fuck- thick. He blows cold air onto it and watches fascinated as it jumps. Runs a feather-
light hand against the underside. Law tries to guide his head downward with the hand still gripping
his hair. "Patience, daddy." And he watches again as it jumps again in his hand.

"Zoro-ya ..." he takes a shake breath. "Come on."

Not one to tease for too long, he leans down. Presses a kiss to the thick head of the man's cock.

Fuck it's so big.

He swallows it in a fluid motion. Lets the tip brush the back of his throat before he pulls off with a
slurping motion. Then he takes it into his mouth again, keeping his lips tight around it as he sucks
up and down. Law grunts every time his cock touches Zoro's throat. "Just like that, Zoro-ya. So
good."

And damn do those words just sound right coming out of his mouth.

"Fuck, take it all in."

And Zoro does. His nose brushing against trimmed, coarse black hair.

Law moans and it's a delicious sound. "Gonna ... can I hold you down?"

Zoro pops off and looks up at him with a half-lidded eye, saliva and pre-cum dripping from his
mouth. "Can take it." He nods, enthusiastic. His eye flicks back down to Law's throbbing, red
cock. Shit, that would hit all the right places in me.

Law guides him back and Zoro swirls his tongue up and down the hard shaft as he sinks down.
Those slender fingers are interlocked at the back of his head and he can feel Law's intense gaze on
him. Then he presses his head down.

It feels like an impossible stretch of his throat and he represses the urge to choke on the large
object. He breathes through his nose and decides once again that Law isn't making enough noise.
He swallows around the man's dick.

"F-fuck." He moans. Hands let Zoro come back up for air. He recovers for just a second before
Law pushes him back down. "Shit. Fucking ... Zoro-ya." His name is stretched out on the man's
voice with a breathy noise.

Then, still swallowing around the dick clogging his throat, he reaches one hand up to play with the
man's nipples, the other down to his balls. Law rocks his hips into Zoro's mouth at the extra
stimulation.

"Gonna ... shit- gonna come if you keep that up." He's out of breath.

And just to be extra filthy, the next time he lets Zoro up for air he says, "Please, daddy. Lemme
taste you."

Another long moan. Zoro gets shoved back down. Law's hips piston roughly in and out of his
mouth and it's all Zoro can do to not choke, keep his lips tight and stay along for the ride. After a
few moments Law's hips stutter in his mouth and his hot, salty cum shoots out.

Zoro makes a series of quick swallows but shit there's a lot. Still, he stays there until Law has
finally softened in his mouth before pulling off.

Law leans his head back against the window. Breathing deep. "That was ... amazing."

The praise warms his chest. He's glad to have pleasured someone by choice- by his own
choice. "Anytime." He says, and finds that he means it.

The dark haired man grins down at him. "Careful. I might just take you up on that." His tone is
teasing.

Zoro just nods. "Thank you," he says. And hopes it's enough. Hopes Law knows what he means.

His smile indicates that he does. Carefully, he tucks his sensitive dick back into his pants. "Do you
need a ride home?"

He shakes his head, gestures to the bar the car is parked behind.

Law signals his understanding. Sits up and reaches to open the armrest storage. Zoro observes him,
confused. Then there's a warm hand at his wrist. Law turns his palm up and he feels something soft
tickle against his skin. Law pulls back, pen in hand, and leaves Zoro with a number scrawled on his
palm. There's a soft blush on his face. "Just ... you know- in case the stitches open up again. Or you
get hurt."

Zoro finds his face splitting open with a genuine smile. I knew he was good. "Only reason?"

Law's blush deepens. "No- I ... and ... if you wanna do this again too."

He nods, smile widening. "Thank you."

"Thank you. You were perfect." He reaches toward Zoro's crotch as though to return the favor.

Zoro blocks his hand. Shakes his head.

Law searches his eye. Then accepts the answer. But he doesn't move back. Instead, gently, he
pushes Zoro against the opposite door. Leans over him, thumb brushing against his scarred cheek.
"Perfect." He repeats. Pecks Zoro's lips with a sweet kiss.

His heart feels light in his chest. He melts into the kiss.

Sooner than he'd like, Law pulls away. "I won't keep you too long."

And Zoro just refrains from whining at the loss of the man's soft lips. Instead he nods, and they
both get out of the car. He waves and turns his back away from the car before Law can see his
burning cheeks.
 There's a smile in Law's voice. "Bye, Zoro-ya."

And he walks back into the bar feeling lighter than he has in weeks.

Chapter End Notes

not included *zoro straight forgets he doesn't even have a phone to call law- he was
dumb infatuated tho so gotta forgive him

also law definitely has a daddy kink u cant convince me otherwise. and it was too
funny for me writing him moan 'zoro-ya'

idk when the next update will be but the plot will be thickening next chapter !
 im gonna slam my head into a goddamn wall (believe it)
Chapter Summary

zoro finally escapes

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"Oi, wake up lazyass!" Miss Doublefinger's voice grates on his ears but it's expected. Seven a.m.
and not a minute after. Crocodile's bookkeeper. In charge of all things money related to the club.
Every morning she comes to look over everything from the night before, double-check the books.
She's thorough and always on time. When Crocodile is out of town he has her come up to the
apartment to check on Zoro before starting. So it's expected.

Though that doesn't make her voice any less irritating.

"Don't forget I have a key, Roronoa. I will use it if you don't show me you're here and alive in the
next 30 seconds."

She's used it before. Has to use it most days when Crocodile is out of town since he tends to sleep
in after a long night. But today he hasn't slept. Has been waiting for her. Make it look normal.
Though he doesn't have to fake the tiredness in his expression when he opens the door seconds
later. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror after coming up from his shift last night. Knows
he looks like shit. Purple bags ringed around his eye, hair a tangled mess atop his head. He's just
barely awake on his feet. Hasn't slept well since Sir left three days ago and now today's the day.

His hands shake in barely contained nervousness but they manage to wrench the door open.

She stands there with a hand on her hip- curly blue hair ever neat- and looks at him, unimpressed.
"You look even worse than you did yesterday."

I know. Zoro nods.

"Well, try and get some sleep today. No one likes fucking a zombie." She says casually.

Zoro gives her shoes a look full of barely suppressed hatred.

She just chuckles, "That's right, Roronoa. You'll be in the pleasure rooms today."

Instinct has him clenching his fists before he forces himself to relax. I'm not gonna be around for
that. If everything goes well this'll be the last time you ever see this bitch's face.

"Any plans for the day, boy?" She asks knowingly. As though he's allowed anywhere else except
the gym and here.

His eye is focused on the floor at her feet, but he wants more than ever to look at her straight and
tell her a big fuck you. "Gym, sleep, shower, work."

"Good." She sighs then, turns on her high black heels. "I'll be downstairs should you need
anything. Please do try not to need anything." And then she's gone. Zoro stands there for a minute
before closing the door and resting his head against it. Tries to get his frantic thoughts under
control.

You've been over the plan a million times. It'll work this time. It's gonna work this time.

He walks back to the bedroom, throws on a white tee and a pair of loose sweatpants. Takes a quick
minute to wash his face in the bathroom. He grabs his gym pack which he's had prepared since last
night. It's packed light. Only the bare necessities he's gonna need. About two thousand dollars from
tips he had saved up over the year- he would've had more but Crocodile takes almost all of his
earnings, leaving him with just a small percentage that took a long time to build up. A couple
changes of clothes and a bottle of water.

He laces up his gymshoes. Stares at the front door for a long minute and takes some deep breaths.

You'll be fine.

Then he's out the door and down the street and everything becomes a little bit of a blur. He actually
works out for a little bit just in case someone is watching him until he builds up a slight sweat. It
has the added bonus of clearing his mind. He heads back to the locker room and throws on the
baseball hat he had brought to cover his hair and an oversized hoodie.

This is it.

He grabs his bag and walks out the back door. There's a small breeze on his face and he allows
himself to smile just a little.

You're finally getting out.

Last time he tried to escape had taken a taxi and uber, so he stays away from private transportation
this time. Takes the set of stairs that lead underground and uses a few bucks to catch a ride on the
subway. He takes it to the city. Walks around for a little. He takes the subway to a different town
outside the city. Then waits a little and takes the same one back in. And then he takes a different
line out far to a small town a few hours from where he started. From there he hops on a bus and
rides it for about three hours. He doesn't even really know where he's going. Just that he needs to
lose anyone who might be following him, and to get as far away from that place as possible. He
gets off the bus at a random stop. Starts walking. He'll catch another bus and go further away in a
little.

It's a beautiful day outside and the sun on his skin should warm him up. But the anxious feeling
he's had since stepping on the subway has settled into something cold and heavy in the bottom of
his stomach. Is this really it? Have I gotten away this time?

Another two hours of walking does nothing to lessen the feeling.

His legs are sore and achy and the right one is still healing- though thankfully the stitches haven't
ripped in a few days. There's a gas station at the corner of the street he's walking down and his
stomach grumbles. Could barely eat this morning from nerves. This morning. The sun will be
setting soon. It's already been hours.

He desperately wants to feel relief from getting away. But there's something wrong. Something's
not right. Can feel it.

The itchy feeling of being watched centers at his neck. He whips his head around. There's a few
cars driving on the street, some parked on the sides. But nothing suspicious. He shakes his head,
walks into the gas station. You're fine. It's been almost a full day. You got away from him this time.

Unwillingly, thoughts of last time he tried to escape flood his mind.

Last time you thought you were safe too. Had even settled in for the night at a hotel almost a state
over. And then who came busting into your room while you were passed out? Who dragged you
back?

Absentmindedly he walks up and down the aisles, thoughts too loud to pick out anything to eat.

No. You didn't bring anything with you this time. Haven't even talked to anyone since you left.
Anyone who might've been following you had to have lost your trail with all the circles you made.
There's no way they'll find you. You're fine.

But he can't shake the feeling at the back of his neck.

It's suffocating.

He grabs some type of cereal bar, panting heavily. Pays for it and bursts outside. Inhales deeply
several times until his breaths slow.

You got away. You're finally free.

Why doesn't it feel like it?

He starts walking again. Anything to clear his head. The cereal bar is half stale but he scarfs it
down anyways. Need to stop for actual food later. But right now with anxiety churning in his gut,
the thought of eating anything heavy makes him nauseated.

There's a small park he comes up on after another three hours of walking aimlessly. The sun looks
just about to set. You've been away for more than 12 hours. He collapses onto one of the benches.

Just

breathes.
Lets his leg rest where the wound is pulsing against his pant leg.

Little kids run around and on the grass, giggling as they chase each other. He feels the gaze of a
few parents on him. Ignores them. He might look questionable but he's not here to do anything
except rest.

Their laughter fills the air, allows Zoro to relax- just minutely- for the first time since he left. It
also makes his heart ache.

His neck still prickles with the sense of someone watching him. You're fine. He closes his eye for a
few moments. Breathes in the fresh air.

Takes a few minutes. Listens to the light breeze rustling through the trees. Feels it tussle his sweat-
damp hair. There are birds chirping overhead somewhere. The children's laughter sounds muffled
now.

The bench is slightly cold underneath him. Then something small, round, and even colder presses
into his back.

He breathes out. There you are. Opens his eye. Gazes unseeing at the endless blue sky above him.

You can't get away, can you?

Frustration bubbles like acid in his throat. There's a scream trapped in his chest and he wants to rip
it out.

"I'm impressed." The man drawls behind his ear. "You got far this time, Roronoa- kun."

Daz Bones. Mr. One- Crocodile's right hand.

"Why don't we head home?" He walks around the bench. His large stature shades Zoro from the
setting sun. Blocks his view of the sky.

His fingers itch to rip at his scalp. He digs them into his forearms instead- feels blood well up
under his fingernails.

Not again. Not again, please. Why- how do they always find me?

Daz's gun is pointed at his chest, though hidden from view where his hand is covered by his
jacket's large sleeves. "Let's go."

I'm not going back. I can't go back.

Please.

Frustration explodes in a waterfall of unshed tears and in the form of a snarl from the pit of his
chest. "No!" He shouts and shoves Daz back. His leg pounds as though it has its own heartbeat
when he springs to his feet. But he ignores the pain. Ignores everything except Daz, who stumbles
backwards, face an expression of shock for a mere second until its replaced with calm anger.

I won't go back.

He takes up a fighting stance.

Daz frowns. "We're in public, pet. Don't want to make a scene, do we?"

"Do it." He snarls. Spits at the man's feet.

He laughs and it's filled with spite. "Oh, Croc is gonna have a time beating you back down." He
steps closer to Zoro. "You think I give a shit about these people? I'd shoot you right here if he
didn't want you back." He hears the safety click off from inside the sleeve. "On second thought, as
long as it's not lethal ..."

There's a white hot burning in his shoulder before Zoro even registers the sound of the gunshot.
Distantly he hears screaming. Screaming? Who was screaming. Lots of voices shout at
once. Parents. Kids. They're at a public park- gunshot. Right.

His hand clutches at his left shoulder where he thinks the bullet must have went straight through.

"You ready to come nicely now, Roronoa-kun?" The tone is mocking as always.

He pants through the pain throbbing up and down his arm. His breathing is deafening in his own
ears. "Fuck. You." He thinks he whispers it but the growing smirk on Daz's face tells him he's
heard.

"Right here, Roronoa-kun? I was at least gonna wait until I got you back home."

A shudder runs through him at the implication. Daz seems to delight at the movement.

Thoughts pound against his head, one after the other, but none long enough for him to grasp on to.
To think how the hell he can get out of this. He slams a fist against the ringing in his ear.

If he runs, his jacked leg definitely won't make it as far or fast as Daz. Wrestling the gun out of
Daz's hand could work but he doesn't trust himself to be able to get to him before he can get
another shot in. The option to go back willingly with him is out of the question. So there's only one
thing he can do. The only other thing he's good at.

He lunges.

The punch lands. It's an unexpected right hook square on Daz's jaw that has the man staggering
back. Zoro's knuckles sing in pain.

"Bastard." Daz spits out some blood where he must've bitten his tongue on impact. "You ... really
wanna do this?"

Zoro is on him before he finishes the question. Slips under some heavy thrown punches to place
one right on the man's nose. The crack it makes puts a grin on his face. Blood gushes from Daz's
nostrils and he roars, swings a punch that even though it only just swipes the side of Zoro's head,
still dazes him for a second. He recovers quickly, enough to weave and block more punches from
the bloody man. Then he ducks low out of a strong right from Daz and shoots back up, on the
man's side. Slams a fist into his face.

Daz trips over himself from the hit and falls to the grass. "Galdino, get over here!" He calls out.
Brings his hands to cover his face protectively when Zoro pounces on him.

Galdino? That's-

Shut up. Focus.

 If you take care of him here, you can run away again and then no one know where you are. You'll
be free.

The idea puts a smile on his face. Punch after punch after punch. He feels out of his body. Drops a
hard elbow to Daz's bruised face.

"Galdino!" Daz yells again from under him.

Why does he keep calling Mr-

A blunt pain throbs at the back of his head and his vision blacks out.

Chapter End Notes

lol gotcha

love a cliffhanger

also this was a shorter chapter but im sick so ive been in bed all day and am lowkey
running through these so next one might be posted soon
 can you pick up my shattered pieces?
Chapter Summary

aftermath of zoro's escape attempt- my man is struggling.

also he meets back up with our boys !

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

H-

Wh ...
Head hurts.

Where?

Can't open ... my eye. One. ... Why-

Blood feels

Fuzzy ... ?

Dark
.

There's something ...

Someone moans

where
Above me?

Can't see

can't-

"... good ..."

Head hurts

" ... angel."

Something soft ...

Hand on his face

"So good, Zoro."

His blood feels slightly less sluggish

Voice.

He knows him.

Can't see.
Something lifts off his face.

"Here, open your eye. Look at me."

He tries.

It cracks open a sliver.

The light burns.

A moment of dazed awareness passes over him like a wave.

Crocodile.

"... feels good, doesn't it?"

The hand on his face strokes back and forth

Gentle
so gentle ... why?

Crocodile tuts. "Answer, angel."

Answer.

Answer. Answer what?

"Doesn't it feel good?"

The touch is soft.

Nice.

He nods.

"But you don't deserve it, do you?"

Don't ...?

"You were bad, angel."

Bad.

Was bad.

What'd ... what'd I do?

"Really should punish you."

His voice is soft.

Punish. Don't-

He cries out in a broken voice. A sharp pain ... his shoulder.

Shoulder. Bullet.

Daz.

"Yeah, you remember now ... were so bad." His voice is in and out.

What's wrong with me?

He opens his eye. Get hit by a wave of dizziness.

Why do I feel like this?

"Sorry, angel. Had to give you a little something ... you don't disobey- again."

Shit.

That's why-

He drugged me.

"You'll be good now though, won't you?"

Good? Not for him. Not in a million-

"Aw-" His shoulder feels like it's getting shot all over again.

But it's-

"You know what happens ..." His consciousness lulls. "... bad, angel."

Not bad. I'm not.

Crocodile's body is warm against his.

There's something- Something.

It presses into his shoulder.

It hurts to scream.

Good. Be good.

Won't hurt.

"That's right, angel. I knew you'd understand."

The drugs make him numb.

He starts to crave the feeling.

It's not the first time Crocodile has given him them. But it is the first time he's forced them on him.

He hasn't felt so docile in a long time.

Days pass in a blur, now. Vaguely he remembers running away weeks ago. Thinking about it
makes his head pound.

Crocodile treats him good. Keeps him just drugged enough to not put up a fight. Fucks him because
it's all he's good for. Hasn't put him back to work yet. Hasn't let him be helpful again.

It's okay.

I'm fine.

I'm fine.

Then, for the first time in weeks, Crocodile doesn't give him anything. He wasn't home last night.
He still isn't home when Zoro decides to jump in the shower. Mind painfully clear.

For the first time since what feels like forever he wonders what the hell he's still doing here.

The drugs had made him compliant. Made him forget the pain of his years. All the pain caused by
Sir. Made him lean into the man's touch.

He won't make the mistake of succumbing to them again. Though he can barely deny the part of
his brain telling him to just shut up and ask Sir for them again- that he needs them. He doesn't. He
knows. But he's been accepting them for the past couple weeks to keep his thoughts and pain and
bay- so it's hard.

He scrubs at his skin.

Stands under the spray until he can't feel the water against his skin anymore.

The bathroom door creaks open.

He keeps his eye closed.

Crocodile's large hand is at the back of his neck.

"Good morning, angel."

"Morning, Sir." He mumbles back.

"Gonna let you go back to work today, okay?" His voice feels like it rumbles through Zoro's chest.

Finally. Can be helpful agai-

No.

No. This isn't some favor he's giving you.

Screw that. He nods, anyway.

Sir's hand trails down his side. "Won't be giving you anything anymore. I hope you understand.
Though, I know you started to like them." He can hear the smile in Sir's voice.

"Turn around. Wash me up."

Zoro quickly does as he's told. Doesn't meet Crocodile's eyes where they're staring down at him.

When he's done, Crocodile kisses him. "I'm gonna let you start going back to the gym too."

He can't hide the noise of surprise he makes against Crocodile's lips.

"I don't suppose I have to tell you what will happen should you decide to betray my trust again?"
His thumb brushes gently over Zoro's injured shoulder.

He shakes his head rapidly. Is filled with a strange sense of gratitude. The feeling is so strong he
can't stop himself from grabbing at Sir's hips, "Thank you. Thank you, Sir." And it's genuine.

"Of course." A soft kiss is pressed into Zoro's wet hair. "I'm always happy to treat a good angel."
Good. Need to be good for him. Can't-

Fuck, stop. Don't get pulled into this again-

"Now come on. Why don't we get dried off?"

"Oi, green guy!" The bubbly voice of one Monkey D. Luffy reaches his ears before he sees him.

The bar is busy today, though it's not too late into the night. The sun has just set, putting the time
around seven pm. The day has brought out mostly college kids, pool table off to the side
consistently occupied.

It's always jarring on days like these.

Being surrounded by kids his age. Knowing he can never live normally like them. Knowing
especially in terms of intelligence he's downright stupid compared to them.

Luffy comes running up to the bar, almost flings himself over it.

The wide smile on his face empties all thoughts in Zoro's head. "Sparkling water please! Your
yummiest flavor."

He hasn't seen Luffy since he walked out of Blondie's apartment all those months ago. He never
expected to see him again- escape plan or not. But here he is. Sparkling water. Yummiest flavor.
Numbly Zoro nods and grabs a glass.

Is interrupted.

"Make that a club soda with lime, for him."

Blondie. He slings an arm around Luffy's shoulder who looks about to protest. "Trust me, Luffy.
It'll taste better."

Luffy humphs. Then gets visibly distracted by the twinkling fairy lights of the bar. A stark contrast
to the more strobed ones over by the back stage.

They look beautiful reflecting in his wide eyes, Zoro decides. He pours the drink then hands it off.
Starts cleaning the counter where a couple has just paid and left. The familiar motion of wiping it
down lets his mind wander while Luffy and Blondie talk animatedly amongst themselves.

His chest feels tight.

"Mosshead."

He walks back over to Blondie. The man has a soft smirk on his face. "Nice to see you again."

Zoro nods. Is too stunned by seeing Luffy to respond any other way. Distantly he recognizes a look
of disappointment flash across Blondie's face.

"A scotch, neat, with a water back." He orders.

Guiltily, he offers Blondie a small smile. Pours the drinks and sets them down. Blondie lightens at
the expression.

Then another customer calls him in the other direction and he leaves them to each other as a small
rush of people come in. The constant orders do nothing to fight off the deep feeling of loneliness
that settles in his bones. Does nothing to distract him from thoughts and memories of Luffy. Luffy
who stays at the bar sipping his non-alcoholic bubbly drink with a bright laugh. Luffy who was his
best friend- the only one he'd ever had besides Kuina. Luffy who don't forget- doesn't remember
you.

He balances cleaning and prepping in between new orders and refills. His skin is cold with
numbness. It's an odd feeling.

What am I doing here?

The buzz around the bar is suddenly too loud.

I need to leave this place. His shoulder throbs as though to warn him the consequences of leaving.
As though he doesn't already know them. As though Crocodile hadn't drugged him for two weeks
straight after he got back to keep him in check. It's been almost a month since you tried to escape.
Crocodile won't be going out of town again anytime soon. At least not without leaving someone to
watch me good.

He takes care of another order.

They always find me. How? How.

Frustration flashes through him.

"What's with that look?" A familiar voice. Zoro glances up to see the middle-aged regular sitting
down in front of him. Quickly downcasts his gaze. "I've missed you in the back rooms Ro-ro-noa."
The man sings his name in a mocking tone.

He stays silent.

The man is unbothered by this. Knows him too well, by now- has been coming here since Zoro
was little. "Gin and tonic," he orders. Then, "Old man Croc stopped putting you back there as
much, eh?"
It's true. In the past few weeks since his escape attempt, Sir hasn't put him back there once. Though
with the way he had been dosing him up, it would've been easy for Zoro to just lie there and take it.

"Must've figured no one would want you now that you're grown?" The man continues, and his lips
curve into something filthy. "But I still do. Why don't you take a break from here, I can show you a
good time again."

Zoro makes the drink instead of answering right away. Knows anything he says to upset the
customers will get him a beating from Sir. But this man is a regular, and one of the easier ones to
please. Treats him well. He decides on something that will hopefully make him drop the issue,
"Saturday." Sir said he'd finally be putting him to work the rooms this weekend instead of the bar.

"Good." The man nods, thoughtful. "And if I pay for your whole night?"

The words have his eyes widening in surprise where they don't meet the man's face.

He laughs. "I see. You'd like that, huh?"

The idea, of only having one man for the night, is an attractive one- especially since he can't plan
another escape any time soon. He wouldn't have to rush to clean himself out between customers.
Wouldn't have the stress of worrying if the next one would be too rough or too gentle. If they were
clean despite what they said. If they would want to make him bleed.

Yes, he would like that. He stares intently at the man's chest in response.

Another laugh. "Okay, Roronoa. I know you'll make it worthwhile- your crazy stamina- plus I'm
overdue for a good night." He takes his drink and stands up. "Till then sweetheart."

Zoro is quick to clean the counter after him. There's the feeling of a strong set of eyes on him. He
lets his own drift in that direction, finds himself facing Luffy, keeps his eyes on the bar
counter. Did he hear?

Luffy has a thoughtful look on his face. Then, "Your scar looks cool."

Zoro stares ahead blankly.

Cool.

Most people either ignore it or say it looks unsightly. No one says it looks cool.

"Is your hair naturally green?" He beams with the question. Zoro thinks it's the most dazzling thing
he's ever seen.

He's not shocked at the question, and if it were anyone else he might flirt are you asking if the
curtains match the drapes? But this is Luffy- even if he doesn't remember him- so he just says,
"Yes."

He sees Luffy smile though he's not looking at his face directly. He wants to though. Oh, does he
want to. To meet those deep brown eyes with his own. But he can't. He knows he can't. You're
worthless. Worthless people don't look others in the eye. You're beneath them- and far beneath
him.

Then Luffy leans in closer like he's about to reveal a secret. "You should come over again!" He
shouts in Zoro's face. "Last time you just stayed with Sanji. We didn't get to play."
At the mention of last time, Blondie's face turns pink.

There's a pout on Luffy's face.

"... Play?"

Luffy nods up and down and up and down and-

Blondie rests a hand on his head to stop him.

"Please, green guy?"

It's like all thoughts have stopped in his head. This can't be real. He looks to Blondie for help.
Settles his eyes on the man's blue tie and hopes he can see the confusion in his eye.

"You- of course you can come over, Mosshead." Blondie says sincerely.

And fuck that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"To ... to play?" He repeats. Hopes Blondie gets the message. He's just not sure what Luffy means
by the words. If he's reading the meaning wrong.

It takes Blondie a moment. Then he blushes furiously. "No! No. Not like that." He placates. Flicks
Luffy on the head. "He meant videogames."

Luffy laughs, loud and bright while Zoro sighs in relief. Not that he would mind getting it on with
Luffy but doing it with the man not knowing who he really is just doesn't sit right in Zoro's chest.
"Of course I meant videogames! What else would I mean? You're so strange green guy!"

"Roronoa." He finds himself correcting. Because it doesn't feel right to give Luffy his first name.
Not when he doesn't remember him. Not when it could make him remember. The thought of Luffy
finding out who he's become sends a chill down his spine. I can't tell him. He doesn't remember
and I should leave it that way.

Blondie- who knows him as Zoro- gives him a strange look.

"Great! I'm Luffy!"

Zoro nods.

"Right, right. You know that, of course. We've already met!"

If only he knew the truth of that statement.

"So when are you gonna come over?" He holds his empty cup out for a refill.

Zoro pours him more of the bubbly drink while he thinks. Crocodile would be too questioning if I
ask for a day off. He only gives days out randomly when he sees I'm dead on my feet. But I'm
normally free in the mornings after the gym. He wakes up semi-early to workout at the boxing gym
down the street. But he always comes right back to their apartment after- naps until his shift.
Maybe he could-

He realizes suddenly that he's been silent for a minute too long. In leiu of an answer he shrugs and
gestures to Luffy with his hand.

"Oh I don't care when! I'm free a lot of the time. I skip school a lot." He admits, halfway between
sullen and proud.

"Luffy, don't brag about that!" Blondie slaps the back of his head.

"Sorry, sorry." He giggles. "Why don't you come over next week? We have an actual day off on
monday so you can come anytime!"

Monday? That ... should be fine. He might be a little sore from working the weekend, but it
shouldn't be too bad. He nods, "Morning."

"Great!" Luffy sips at his drink. "I'll make sure Usopp is there too."

Usopp?

Luffy must see the confused look on his face.

"Aw, c'mon. You remember." He insists. And then stretches- stretches?- his nose out. "He looks
like this!"

Oh. Long-nose, right.

But wasn't he afraid of me last-? "Scared." He says simply.

Luffy shakes his head. "Don't worry, he won't be scared of you this time. I'll make sure of it."

Zoro shrugs.

"Awesome! It'll be so much fun, I promise."

Monday comes all too quickly, and Zoro finds his hands shaking in anticipation. I'm actually gonna
be hanging out with Luffy again. Just like the old days.

He asked Crocodile yesterday if he could go. Though he didn't tell him the whole truth. The story
he went with is that a customer invited him over and offered to pay him to get a few hours.
Crocodile hadn't given much objection after hearing that.

Now he's standing outside Blondie's apartment.

It had taken him longer than expected to find the place, though he vaguely remembered it being
only a few minutes away from the bar.

Summoning all the courage he can, he lifts his arm and knocks.
"Just a second!" He hears yelled through the door. And even from out here he can smell something
delicious being made inside. After a few moments the door swings open.

Blondie stands there, a hand at his hip which is covered by an apron with a panda on it. "Oh,
Mosshead. You're late, come in." He shoos him inside.

"Late?"

The apartment is mostly clean and just like he remembers it. The smell of good food gets even
stronger as he steps forward.

"Yeah, you said morning, but it's past noon now. I sent Luffy to shower cause I figured you
forgot."

Zoro just nods, unwilling to admit that he might've gotten just a little lost on his way from the gym.

"You're limping." Blondie notes.

Zoro's eye widens. Shit, he noticed. "Long weekend." He quickly says. It's the truth anyway,
though maybe not exactly how Blondie will picture it.

Said blonde's cheeks pink. He coughs. Recovers fairly quick, "Well, food is almost ready. You can
sit wherever you like. Luffy should be done soon and Usopp is studying in my room."

He nods again, silently follows Blondie into the kitchen.

He's stirring something on the stove and humming softly to himself. He leans down to check
something in the oven and Zoro can't help but notice the way his long legs stretch at the
movement. He turns around and jumps at the sight of Zoro who's standing right behind him.
"Mosshead!" Takes a breath. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry." He apologizes instantly, though he's not exactly sure for what.

"I thought I said for you to sit down somewhere."

Oh.

"Sorry." He repeats, and walks around the kitchen counter to sit at the stool there.

"You working today?" Blondie asks as he practically dances around the kitchen.

He hums. "You?"

Blondie sighs. "Restaurant opens later on Mondays. I'll have to leave in a couple hours"

"Cooking?"

Blondie looks over his should at him inquisitively. "Yes, I'm cooking." He can practically hear
the obviously tacked on at the end.

Zoro shakes his head. "For work?" He clarifies.

"Oh. No." He leans down to look in the oven again. "This is for us to eat right now. I normally just
snack on any extras at work so nothing goes to waste." He turns to face Zoro fully. "You know,
Luffy is really excited to have you over."
His cheeks heat at the words. "Nervous." He admits. Because he was. Couldn't stop thinking about
it all weekend.

Blondie laughs softly. "I don't know what it is, but there's just something about you two."

"Oi, Sanji did-" A voice starts and at that exact moment a door opens behind him. "Green guy!!"
And before he can even turn around there's a pair of sopping wet arms wrapped around him. "You
came." Luffy snuggles a little into his hair.

If Zoro's cheeks were red before, now they're flaming. He hears Blondie chuckle. It feels surreal.

Luffy pulls away, let's Zoro turn to him.

"I knew you were gonna show up!"

He nods.

"I told Sanji you probably just got lost. I used to know a kid with green hair who always got lost. I
think it's just a thing, y'know. All people with green hair are really bad with directions." He
rambles off.

Zoro can only stare blankly at his still wet chest.

He ... remembers?

"Well anyway, let's play Roronoa! I got the playstation all set up so we can play a few rounds
before the food's ready."

Mind somewhere far away, he manages to nod.

"Luffy, put a shirt on." Blondie says.

Luffy sticks his tongue out. "Don't wanna. You're lucky I'm even wearing pants."

Blondie heaves out a long-suffering sigh.

"You don't mind, do you, Roronoa?"

Zoro shakes his head and lets Luffy pull him to his feet. He snaps back into his body when they
settle onto the couch and Luffy crosses his legs over Zoro's lap. Luffy's wide eyes stare intently at
the TV on the wall.

"I-"

Luffy snaps his gaze to him.

"Don't know how," he admits. Doesn't think he's ever even touched a playstation.

The man's smile widens. "Don't worry." He reassures, "I'll teach you."
 .

Chapter End Notes

sooo a LOT goes on in this chapter but moral is that luffy is a treasure

will zoro reveal himself to luffy now that he knows he might remember him? who
even knows. also its v weird for me to write luffy calling him roronoa but its gotta stay
that way a little longer :(

it was weirdly easy to write the drugged scene but idk if i even did it good oh well
next update will be fuck knows when
 sunny skies, an ode to dear friends
Chapter Summary

2.6k of a nice beach day for zoro and the gang (ft. a special someone at the end)

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The sun glints off buildings that pass in a blur. The air is hot- not yet stuffy, but close- where it
whips in through the open windows. There's something like soft reggae blasting through the
speakers. Luffy had insisted on it. He's also sprawled out in the front passenger seat, limbs moving
every which way as he jams out. Blondie smacks him every so often when his legs get too close to
the wheel.

It's a beautiful day outside. He can barely believe Crocodile let him go.

The past few months have felt just this side of unreal. He's been going over to Luffy's apartment
often, about once a week. Stopped pretending with Crocodile that he was seeing a customer when
he realized how expensive the lie was becoming. Surprisingly Sir said nothing about his new
friends, just that it better not affect his work.

When he visits Luffy they don't do much. Either play videogames- which Zoro has gotten pretty
good at now- or cards or just relax and watch a movie. It's nice. Probably the nicest thing he's ever
had going. Sometimes when he goes over he'll just hang out with Blondie. And they haven't had
sex again yet but he enjoys the man's company.

Right now they've been driving for almost a half hour, and he's never been to the beach but he
thinks they must be getting close. Usopp keeps shifting uncomfortably when the car bumps and he
brushes against Zoro's side. He's not surprised. The curly-haired man has yet to warm up to him
despite the numerous times they've met now. He doesn't know if it's still about the scar or just
Usopp not liking his demeanor in general, but something has been keeping them from becoming
close- though Zoro itches to hear Usopp laugh as comfortably with him as he does with his friends.

Next to Usopp sit Nami and Vivi- two of Luffy's friends Zoro has met in the past few weeks. Vivi
is currently sitting in Nami's lap, her blue ponytail swishing around as she excitedly dances with
Luffy. She's a sweetheart and genuine like Luffy. It's refreshing. The orange haired girl under her is
engaged in an easy conversation with Usopp. Zoro doesn't waste much thought trying to listen in.

To be competely honest, he's not sure how he's even here.

Why have they let me into their lives like this? Though he's far from complaining. It's just- the
warm feeling that cradles his chest when he's around them is something he's not used to. I can get
used to it though. Man, could I get used to this.

He shuts his eye against the wind. Lets Luffy's music and their laughter crash over his senses.
"We're five minutes, guys. How are you lovely ladies doing back there?"

"Good, Sanji-kun!" They stretch the word out, then giggle in sync.

And then before he knows it, the car has stopped. Instantly, they file out of the van, eager to stretch
their legs. Zoro stays behind with Blondie as the rest make a mad dash for the beach. He unpacks
everything from the trunk, for which Blondie thanks him. "I can carry something off you."

Zoro shakes his head, then signals for Blondie to start walking.

Blondie sighs but it's a fond sound. He locks the car and leads the way. Past him Zoro sees endless
blue water stretching out to the horizon. The sunlight reflects off the blue. It looks like a large gem
the way it sparkles. "Oi Mosshead, come on!" Blondie yells over his shoulder where he's now
caught up with the others. They've found an empty spot on the busy beach, close to the water. He
realizes he stopped walking before he could even step on the beach, too absorbed in the view. It's
beautiful. Breathtaking. He kicks off his shoes and sticks them under his arm. Takes the first steps
onto the sand. It's warm and shifts under his feet. He doesn't hide his smile. There's a perfect
breeze tousling his hair. It feels amazing running through his clothing- a cream colored linen tunic
and long white linen pants he had worn at Blondie's request. Blondie had lent them out to him after
Zoro admitted he didn't have any beachwear. He's a lot bigger than Blondie though, so where they
clothing is very loose on the smaller man, for Zoro the shirt is tight at the shoulders and chest, the
pants tight at his thighs. But I'm covered. It helps with his anxiety- his new friends won't see his
disfigured body if he's covered.

When he catches upto them Usopp helps him unpack some things. They spread out the large
blanket. Usopp sets out the umbrellas and Zoro opens the few folding chairs they had brought.
They're well prepared- they must do these beach trips a lot.

"Roronoa." Luffy whines, stretching out the '-oa' at the end of his last name, somehow managing to
rocket up onto Zoro's shoulders.

"Luffy." He breathes out with a smile, grabbing onto the man's calves.

Then Luffy is upside-down, leaning over his head until he's nose to upside-down nose with Zoro.
Zoro almost drops him. Somehow the strawhat he's been wearing doesn't fall. "It's a beautiful day."

He swallows heavy. Manages a nod. This close to Luffy, he can feel the other man's breath fanning
his cheeks.

"You gonna swim with me later?"

Like old times.

"Maybe," he shrugs.

"Okay." Luffy stares at him intently and Zoro finds that he can't look away. "I'm really happy you
came." He whispers against Zoro's lips like a secret.

Zoro's breath catches in his throat at the honest words. Then Luffy's jumping off his shoulders and
chasing Usopp around, being an overall menace.

"Luffy, you need sunscreen before you start running around!" He hears Nami yell and she too joins
in the chase.

"Come sit down," Vivi beckons from behind him. She's sitting on the blanket in her bikini, having
stripped of the cover-up. Blondie is spread out next to her wearing bright blue swim trunks- pale
chest bare. Obediently, he takes a seat on her other side- pointedly keeping his eye off Blondie.

"You picked a good day, Sanji-kun. It's good we were all able to make it," she says. She's started
applying sunscreen to herself.

He sighs. It's a relaxed sound. "Well I needed this. I think we all did." Then, "I can help you apply
that if you'd like," he offers with a sly smile.

She gives him a look. Her hands work quickly to rub the white cream in. Then she smirks.
"Actually," she turns her attention to Zoro, "maybe you could help me with my back, Mr.
Roronoa?"

He looks between her and Blondie for a minute. Blondie's got his mouth gaping open slightly but
sensing no bad intention, Zoro shrugs. Takes the bottle out of her hand and squeezes a good
amount onto his. He doesn't linger, just spreads it on her thin back and drops his hands.

"Thank you," she says kindly.

He nods.

"SAAAANJIIIIII!" Luffy is a blur that barrels straight into Blondie as he tries to sit up.

"GET OFF ME YOU BASTARD!" Blondie pulls Luffy's ear which just stretches in his hand.

"You're so not comfy, Sanji." He says with a fake pout. "And I'm hungry."

Sanji sighs, long-suffering. "I told you to eat before we left- and if I'm not comfy then GET OFF!"
He shoves Luffy out of his lap and gets up to open one of the two coolers he packed.

"And what'd you bring, Sanji?" Usopp pokes around under Blondie's arm.

"Hands off!" He snaps, an unlit cigarette somehow between his lips, and pulls out a circular platter
of cut fruit, cheese, and meats.

Luffy's mouth is watering where he fidgets impatiently next to Zoro.

Blondie sets the platter down in the center of the blanket. "What does everyone want to drink?
Nami, Vivi?" He asks as everyone sits in a circle. They call out their drinks and Blondie hands
them off. Mostly just water and beer except for a juice pouch for Luffy. "How about you,
Mosshead? And come closer so you can reach."

He has removed himself from the circle a little so that Blondie can have room. He waves his hand
in front of his face back and forth once. I'm good, he's saying.

Blondie narrows his eyes at him, settling down in the circle with a sparkling water in hand. "Later,
then?" And his tone leaves no room for argument. Hanging out with them for the past couple
months has taught Zoro a lot about Blondie and his affectionate nature. So he knows- the man
won't have anyone go hungry in his presence.

He nods, mostly just to appease him.

"Good," he says and it's still in that slightly threatening tone but he grabs a cracker and slice of
meat and he digs in with everyone else. It's a light snack that's perfect for the weather and the
occasion. Zoro observes them silently.
"You should smile more often, Roronoa. It's a good look on you."

That's Nami.

Without thought, his small smile drops at the attention. "Thank you," he mutters. Because he
knows she's being genuine. He likes Nami. Despite the hardened persona she likes to put on, he's
seen how she cares for everyone in her own way. She's like an older sister to the group and Zoro
has grown very protective of her. But he gets the feeling she doesn't like him very much.

"Did I tell you guys about the next project I'm working on?" Usopp leans forward excitedly.

"Is it the logo one?" Vivi asks.

"No, that one I still have to finish. But this is a new project they gave us. I'm designing a game
interface for ..."

The word 'interface' and Zoro promptly tunes out. He finds himself doing it often when the group
talks about anything related to their majors. It's not always intentional, but whenever he tries to
focus the words are just too confusing for him to get any real meaning from them. What is a
'prototype' anyway? Between Usopp's graphic design, Vivi's psychology, and Nami's business
major he can barely understand half of the group's school conversations. He fists his hands into his
lap, staring blankly at Usopp's mouth move. Stupid, stupid, stupid. At least try and pay attention,
dumbass.

"... triadic color scheme ..."

Well now those don't even sound like words. Except 'color', I know that one. He looks around. Sees
that everyone else is paying close attention to the conversation, occasionally giving their inputs.
There's understanding on their faces.

Then Vivi starts talking about some research she's doing and Zoro swears it sounds like she's
speaking another language. He knows what a hippo is but he thinks 'hippocampus' must be
something different. Listen, just listen. You have to learn if you don't want them to figure out you're
dumb. Can't learn if you don't listen.

"-ne, Roronoa?"

"Hm?"

"Were you even listening?" Nami.

"No." He says, honestly.

Nami sighs. She doesn't like when you don't listen. "Vivi asked you a question."

He looks at Vivi's polite smile expectantly. Next to him, Luffy is devouring the tray of food.

"No worries, it wasn't really important anyway."

He hums, "Sorry."

Blondie stretches and yawns loudly across from him. "Anyway, let's just relax. No more school
talk for the rest of today."

"Good idea, Sanji." Luffy says, through a mouthful of food. "School's so boring," he whines. Then
there's a hand grabbing Zoro's shoulder and he's being rocketed to a stand. "I brought a volleyball,"
he says excitedly, as though he's just remembered- and maybe he has. "Can we play?" His eyes are
pleading but then he dives into one of the beach bags before an answer, leaving Zoro swaying
slightly on his feet at the sudden movement.

"Okay," he shrugs. He hasn't played in the longest time but with Luffy's excitement- even with food
still in his mouth- he's sure it won't be an issue.

The sun heats his cheeks. He's laying out on the blanket. The laughter of his friends is a furnace in
his chest. They've gone swimming. He can hear the splashing of water. His eye is closed. His body
feels toasty where the rays spread warmth through him.

He's dozing, he knows.

Hasn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

Yeah, he thinks. I could get used to this.

A shiver of cold racks his body. The back of his eyelid darkens. His source of heat is gone.

He cracks open his eye- what?

There's a tall man blocking his sunlight. With the sun shining behind him, the man's face is
shadowed. Though he recognizes his voice instantly.

"Are you photosynthesizing, Zoro-ya?"

"Law," he smiles. Then shivers again. "Cold."

"Oh, sorry." He steps out of the sunlight and like a flame reignited, the toasty feeling is back. He
closes his eye against the bright light. Feels the man sit next to him on his right side. "You're the
last person I was expecting to see here." His voice rumbles low.

"Luffy," he says in explanation.

"Ah. I didn't know you two knew each other." There's a rustling of clothes. He opens his eye to see
Law spreading out to lay next to him. Closes his eye again with a new type of feeling blooming in
his chest. "He invited me yesterday last minute. I don't normally come to these hangouts of theirs
so I wasn't sure if I should show up." A pause. "Though, had I known you were going to be here I
wouldn't have thought quite so hard about my decision."

His voice is almost as warm as the sunlight on his eyelids.

"Live close?"

"Not really. I'm closer to your bar, actually."

He makes a questioning noise.

"I was out with a friend in the area. Figured I'd stop by on my day off, see how these kids are
holding up."

Kids. Does he know that I'm younger than them?

"Off." He's a surgeon. "Hospital?"

He hums. "Yes, I work at the South Shore Hospital. It's not too far from here. Are you working
today?"

"No."

"Good. You look relaxed."

He looks to the right, sees Law staring at him, a kind look in his eyes.

"I-"

"Torao!"

A light spray of water hits his face as Luffy comes bounding up, ocean water dripping off him.

"Luffy-ya, don't you dare ..." Law starts. He makes an effort to sit up on his elbows and gets
promptly slammed back to the ground by Luffy's body. He sighs. "I was dry, Luffy-ya. I wanted to
stay that way." And it's the closest to complaining Zoro has heard from him yet.

"Sorry sorry." Luffy springs up off him, settles criss-crossed in the space between Zoro and Law.
"Just surprised me, I didn't think you were gonna come."

"A good surprise?" Law asks.

Luffy just laughs. "The best! Oh, you have to play volleyball with us, Torao. He's really good at it."
He says proudly, poking at Zoro's hair excitedly.

"You don't want to dry off a little?" There's an amused, barely-there smile on his face.

"I'll dry off while we play," Luffy says in his most 'duh' voice and he points to the sun.

"Oh, of course, what was I thinking?"

"Well?" Luffy asks, rocking back and forth on his legs.

Law sighs. "Okay, fine." Though he doesn't really sound all that against it.

"Roronoa?" Luffy turns to him with his wide eyes.

 And it's hard to say no to those eyes so he says, "Few minutes."

"Okay, thanks!" And he shoots to his feet, runs over to where they had left the volleyball earlier.

He crosses his arms under his head as Law stands up. The man towers over him. "Don't leave me
alone with him too long," he says with a smile in his voice.

"Promise."

Law walks off.

He closes his eye again, a feeling of contentedness buzzing through his veins.

Chapter End Notes

ikik its short

anyway back to our regularly scheduled plot next chapter (probably) idk i just really
wanted to write some cute relaxing time for them- couldnt help but put some light
angst in there sorryy- hope yall liked it
 this ache in my heart is deeper than the ocean (i miss you)
Chapter Summary

a special day brings up some bad stuff for zoro

but he meets an unexpected someone !

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

"C'mon, Luffy! I wanna go again before it gets really dark."

The ground is uneven beneath his bare feet.

Luffy says nothing, but he grabs Zoro's hand without hesitation. The evening is a quiet one. All
that can be heard is the crashing of waves and Luffy's breathing next to him. Every step they take
makes an indent on the soft earth underneath them. He's seeing out of both eyes. Uses them to look
up at the lighthouse that glows orange in the setting sun.

"Zoro," Luffy whispers.

The weight in his hand is gone. He turns and so is Luffy.

Where-?

He whips his head around. Luffy is nowhere in sight. "Luffy." He starts walking to the lighthouse.
Luffy loves playing at the top, maybe he's in there. "Luffy!" His walk turns into a jog that turns into
a sprint. The grass stretches in front of him as the lighthouse gets farther and farther away.

How-? I'm moving forward. I'm moving forward, why-

Something rams into him from the side. He tumbles. Feels rocks scraping his arms and legs as he
falls down

down

down.

He hits the bottom with a loud crack. Opens his eyes. There's a boy standing at the top of the
cliffside he's just fallen off of. That's-

Ace stands there, the lighthouse looming large behind him.

He looks young- as young as he used to be before everything-

"Ace."

"Zoro!" He shouts. "I thought we were gonna wrestle!" He cups his hands to amplify his voice.
"Are you hurt?"

He stands up easily, finds his arms scrape-free. "No!" He shouts back. Starts climbing back up the
cliff. "Luffy's lost, have you seen him?"
Ace laughs. The sound gets carried down on the warm summer breeze. "You're the one that's lost,
Zoro." The ocean crashes against the rocks behind him. And just like before the short cliffside
suddenly becomes a mountain- too large to scale. "Where'd you go?"

I'm right here. He tries to yell, but no words come out. His throat is clogged with water. His hand
slips and he's-

The windows are fogged up. Luffy and Ace are standing right outside, talking and laughing. He
can't hear them but he can feel the wide smiles on their faces. The latch door on the floor is
locked.

He's stuck in the top of the lighthouse.

The windows are fogged up.

He slams his fists against the glass panes. Calls out for them.

They can't hear him.

He pounds harder, tries to break the glass.

His knuckles bleed red.

The fog clears up. Luffy and Ace are gone. And there is nothing more endless than the ocean.

"Do you remember the story I told you ages ago, boy?"

He turns around.

The old fisherman who used to take them out to sea is leaning against the large light in the center
of the room. He lights a cigarette. "I had taken my boat out one day when the water was rocky. I
got a few prize catches, but didn't notice the skies getting dark with storm." His voice is deep and it
echoes in the small room. His eyes hold the ocean itself. "I had drifted out farther than I meant to."

The story is a familiar one. It comes rushing back to him like the tide.

He blows out a plume of smoke. "When I looked around I could see nothing through the rain except
darkness and mist."
Suddenly Zoro's in a room far away from the lighthouse.

The old man's voice still rings in his ears.

'Through my panic I finally remembered to look for the beacon. It was dim but there.'

The room is dark. Low light streams in from somewhere. The floor is slick with blood underneath
him.

No, no. Please not-

'I followed it back to shore.'

"I think I let you have one too many, Zoro. C'mon let's turn in for the night."

No-

Kuina stands in front of him. Her white shirt soaked red. She's smiling.

"They hurt you bad, didn't they?"

No. He wants to say. No, you're the one that's bleeding. You're the one that won't live through this.

Her midnight hair is illuminated by the moonlight.

'It's light is a beacon for all those who are lost at sea.'

"I never wanted to leave you, Zoro."

There's tears on her face. She's still smiling. He feels like there's a hole in his chest and isn't that
fitting? Now they match.

"I promised you. I'm sorry I broke it."

He surges to his feet, stretches his arms out. Needs to hug her one last time. Needs to hold her and
tell her it'll be alright. Tell her she did nothing wrong. It's his fault. He's the one that's sorry.

"Zoro, I-"

His arms close around nothing.

He screams and nothing comes out.

"Have you learned nothing, boy?"

The old fisherman is back. He gestures to Zoro and then to the unlit cigarette in his mouth. In a
daze Zoro reaches into his pocket, finds a lighter there. He lights the old man's cigarette who leans
back and takes a long drag.

"She's just through that door."

The heavy door looms large in front of him. She's just through there.

He hears muffled laughter. Takes a step forward. The doorhandle fits nicely in his palm.

Then the old man's voice sounds again from behind him. "Oh, and don't forget-

His eye snaps open.

The bedroom is dark.

There's a soft light coming in from the window where the sun has just started to rise. Sir's breaths
are deep and even where he's sleeping next to him.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Today's her birthday. Today's my birthday.

He sits up slowly. Swings his legs over the side of the bed. Runs his hands through his hair.

Kuina.

Shit.

It's been so long since I've dreamt about her.

Why-

He stands up. Paces around a little to calm the blood pounding through his veins. It doesn't work
too well.

Then his nose picks up on an all too familiar smell. The smell of sex lingers in the air from him
and Sir last night. And the room suddenly feels too small. The smell so strong it feels like he's
drowning in it. I can't stay in here. Next thing he knows he's bursting outside, inhaling the fresh,
cold morning air in large gulps.

The streets are empty this early in the morning.

Goosebumps raise on his arms where the wind bites through his thin short-sleeved shirt. He
hugs them around himself, sitting back against the wall in the space between the apartment stairs
and the bar entrance. Thumbs at the dark bandana wrapped around his left bicep.
It's been three years and today's his birthday. Well, not his real one. That one he doesn't remember
the day of. It's why when he told Kuina, she had given him a new one. Picked her own. That way
we'll never forget it, she had said. They celebrated their birthdays together for two years in a row.
And then not a week after she turned 24-

Stop. You don't need this.

There's a dull ache in his heart.

He thinks of Luffy- with his bright smile and good nature- and the ache lessens.

Headstrong, the both of them. They would've been good friends.

It's been a couple weeks since he's last seen him. Crocodile cracked down on his visits. Said once a
week was too much and limited him to once a month if he was good. Zoro didn't complain. Once a
month is better than nothing. And anyway, he knew his weekly visits wouldn't last. Good things
like that never do. Crocodile had been nice enough to let it go on for as long as it did. Had been
nice enough to let him go on that beach trip.

He's working the back rooms tonight and he's not looking forward to it. Crocodile knows nothing
of his fake birthday. And Zoro highly doubts the man would remember today was Kuina's. Even if
he did Zoro's sure he wouldn't let him off anyway. Might even call it a present. Fuck.

He breathes out a humorless laugh.

Fuck that.

Time slips out of his hands, his butt long since numb from sitting on the cold concrete.

What has my life come to.

"What're you doing out here so early, boy?"

He looks up and sees curly blue hair. Quickly downcasts his gaze. Is it really 7am already?

"You look like a street rat. How long have you been sitting here?" Miss Doublefinger gets in his
face and her gloved hand grabs his chin. She hums. "Get back inside before you get sick." She
drops her hand.

Numbly he nods. Waits for her to take a step back before he stands up. Static needles prick through
his sleeping legs.

"Do wake up Crocodile on your way back in, Roronoa. I have some things I need to discuss with
him."

"Ok." He forces his legs to carry him up the apartment steps. Fuck. The key. "Key." He says, loud
enough for Miss Doublefinger to hear where she's still unlocking the club door.

"You don't have it?" She asks, incredulously. It sounds shrill in his ears.

He shakes his head, steps away from the door. He had forgotten it in his rush to get out and away
from that smell, and the outside door locks automatically. She stomps up the concrete steps. "You
really are too lost for your own good, boy. I oughtta ..." she mumbles off a list of complaints but
quickly gets the door open.

"Thanks." He steps inside and goes to shut it on her. She stops him with a firm hand on the door.

"Don't you need me to unlock the front door, too?" Then, before he can respond. "You really are
stupid, Roronoa. You didn't have the key so you didn't even lock it behind yourself did you?"

"No."

Smack.

It only barely stings. She has a heavy hand, but it's nothing he's not used to. "You need to be more
aware. Don't let that happen again."

"Okay."

"Yeah, yeah. 'Okay.'" She mocks. "Just go wake him up, stupid."

He nods. Shuts the door. It locks on its own and he walks over to their apartment door. He pushes
the door open, hoping to hear the sound of the shower that way he doesn't have to wake Sir up. But
no dice. Walking into the bedroom, Crocodile is laying half out of the covers. Light streams in
bright.

"Sir," he calls out. "Sir, up." He shakes the man's large shoulder.

Crocodile turns over so he's flat on his back. He doesn't open his eyes, "This better be important,
angel." He rumbles out, his voice gruff with sleep.

"Miss Doublefinger."

His eyes are still closed.

A small snoring starts up again.

Fuck. "Sir."

Nothing.

"Sir," he calls out more insistent.

He snorts awake again, " ... mpf- what does she want?"

"Sir."

He hums. "Yes, okay." A heavy arm raises and waves him away. "Go ..." he cracks his eyes open
slightly. "Make some breakfast, angel. I'll get up in thirty minutes."

Zoro nods as Crocodile turns back onto his side. He walks into the kitchen. Washes his hands and
tosses on his apron. Grabs some eggs, sugar, and flour along with a few other things. Since Sir
won't be waking up to eat until another half hour he has some time to make a good breakfast. He's
decided on dorayaki. But he's craving something a little sweeter and Sir has a sweet tooth in the
mornings so he decides to make it with a matcha pastry cream rather than the traditional anko.

He lets his mind drift and his hands work as he makes the pancake batter and filling.
Before he knows it he hears the shower come on and he's standing in front of the small stack of
stuffed pancakes. He sets the table. Washes the dishes and pan he used. Crocodile comes walking
out of the bedroom not long after. He's zipping up gray dress pants. His black-purple hair is wet
and pulled back into a low ponytail. A few strands have fallen out, framing his face. The black
dress shirt he's wearing is open and unbuttoned around his wide torso.

Zoro finishes setting down the plates of food.

"Come here, angel."

He steps toward him obediently. Reaches his arm out until his fingertips just barely brush against
the still damp chest hair. Crocodile pulls his hand until it's flush against him. He can feel the older
man's steady heartbeat under his palm.

"What'd you make, today?"

He tilts his head up slightly, just enough to catch Sir's easy smile. "Dorayaki."

Sir hums. Zoro starts buttoning up his shirt. "You haven't made that in a while."

He nods, does the last button at the hem. "Vest?"

"Looking out for me, angel? I'll grab it after we eat."

"Ok." He gestures to the table and they sit down across from each other.

Crocodile cuts into the pancake and takes a bite. Zoro picks it up with his hands and does the same.
He hums through a bite. "Good as always. Thank you."

Zoro nods his acknowledgement and they fall into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes Crocodile breaks it. "I know that day is coming up soon," he says, chewing
casually.

That day? He has to be talking about next week. About ... Zoro's own hand freezes where he was
about to take his last bite. "I-"

"The past two years I've offered you this. And I'll offer it again." He sets down his fork. Fixes Zoro
with a stare unwavering. "I know she meant a lot to you. Do you want to take that day off?"

That day.

The day she died.

Fuck.

Last year Crocodile had offered the same thing. He took the day off and ended up almost drowning
in his feelings. Found himself on the roof of the apartment building. He remembers thinking
how easy it would be. He remembers the pull to just be with her again. Only the thought of her
knowing how weak he was, knowing that he had given up, pulled him back from the edge.

He shakes his head. Maybe the distraction of working will be better for him this year. Though he
doesn't think he can stomach dancing the stage or working the pleasure rooms that day. The two
things she had always hated me doing. "Bar?"

"Of course, angel. Wherever you want." Crocodile finishes his dish in another few bites. "Thank
you again for breakfast. If you change your mind, do let me know."

He nods, numb. Stands up and takes both of their empty dishes to the sink. Crocodile finishes
getting ready and then he leaves Zoro with a kiss. The silence of the empty apartment roars in his
ears. He goes to the bedroom. Trying not to breathe the smell in too much, he strips the bed of the
blanket and sheets- runs them in the wash.

In a daze he packs his gym bag. Puts on a nice white button-up and a looser pair of black slacks.
He slings the bag over his shoulder and grabs a few bucks from his savings stash on his way out,
locking the apartment door behind him.

The fall air has warmed slightly from the morning when he creaks open the gate. He walks the
well-worn path he has long since memorized past the different sized stones until he reaches the
end.

He drops his gym bag behind the box-like stone. Gets on his knees.

It's as he remembers it, and only a few weeds have grown over the small grassy plot. He makes
quick work of pulling them out and dusting off the gravestone. It was a small one- the only one he
could afford at the time- a bad imitation of a pagoda and just big enough to fit the urn inside. He
grabs a bottle of water from his bag.

Most of the old traditions have slipped his memory, but he remembers a few of them from his
mother's funeral a lifetime ago. The makeshift sotoba he had carved two years ago has just started
to lean over. He pours water over the stone, wishing he remembered some prayers. Wishing he had
any meaningful words to offer her.

"O-tanjoubi omedetou."

He sets down the white flowers he had bought in front of the newly cleaned gravestone. A bowl
sits empty next to it from when he had visited last time. The small carton of milk is cold when he
grabs it out of his bag. He refills the bowl.

The rustling of leaves is soft and constant from the trees above him. The graveyard cat comes out
from the bushes and starts licking at the bowl. A rabbit hops past and time feels slow. He closes his
eye.

After an eternity of empty thoughts and shaking hands he sits back onto his heels. Lowers himself
until he's laying down, head in line with her stone.

His gaze is on the sky. Where the sun is hidden by slow-moving, large, fluffy white clouds.

He breathes out.
Feels like if he looks over he'll see her smiling- midnight blue hair stuck to the back of her neck
with sweat because she was always doing something, always on the move- so he looks. Is met only
with dark gray stone.

His chest feels heavy with emptiness and it aches. He's had years to cope. It hasn't lightened the
loss he feels.

He clutches the bandana around his arm. Hears her laughter on the wind.

I'm here, Kuina.

I'm right here.

The bandana feels soaked where it's tied around his head. His muscles are burning- yelling at him
to stop. He doesn't. The bag is a swaying target and he dances around it.

He knows it's getting close to the end of the round. It's his tenth and last round so he goes heavy on
the combos. Throws them in long bursts, blocking and weaving throughout. Distantly he hears his
3 minute timer going off. It's a dull sound compared to the screaming memories in his head.

'I let you have one too many, Zoro.'

He twists into a left hook.

'C'mon let's turn in for the night.'

Lets loose an endless series of one-twos until he's shaking so bad he can't anymore. He grabs the
bag to steady himself. Presses his sweaty forehead against the smooth leather.

Fuck.

A few deep breaths later and he straightens up on sore legs- the running he did earlier just starting
to take its toll. Rolls his wraps off. Puts back the medicine ball he had been using earlier for
circuits. His mind is much clearer after his bag work and he finishes off his session with high
volume sets of pull-ups, hanging leg raises, crunches and push-ups.

When he's all done he does some cool-down stretches and heads back to the locker room. Takes a
few long sips from his water bottle. Washes his hands where his knuckles are an angry red. He
doesn't look up at himself in the mirror, not wanting to deal with any negative thoughts now that
his mind is clear.

He's drying his hands off when he hears someone come up to him.

"I saw you working hard out there man. Respect."

The man has a longer style cut of black hair. It's pasted to his forehead with sweat. There's a light
spattering of freckles on his face. He's definitely a few years old than Zoro.

"Thanks." He moves to get past the man and grab his things.

"Do you just do boxing?" The man follows him.

And he's really not in the mood for a conversation. But he's never anything less than respectful to
strangers so he responds, "MMA."

"Oh, really?" The man's tone is that of genuine interest. "I do jiu-jitsu."

I know, Zoro wants to say but he doesn't. As though the short sleeve rash guard and shorts the man
is wearing didn't give it away that he does BJJ.

He opens his locker and grabs his gym bag.

"All done, huh?" The man grabs his own duffel out of a locker. Zoro nods. "You know ..." he says
thoughtfully, "I'm not from around here, just in town visiting my brother. But you
look really familiar."

At that Zoro turns to him. He doesn't think he just has one of those faces that looks really familiar-
especially not with his eye closed off. But he keeps his gaze on the man's chin. Waits for him to
continue. He didn't recognize him but maybe he's met him before as a customer at the bar.

The man's eyes look him up and down. "Hm. Maybe not."

Zoro nods. He hopes the man is done with whatever the fuck this interaction is because he's
drained and just wants to go home and shower.

The man seems to sense it. "Well, anyway, I'm in town for a few more weeks, maybe I'll see you
here again and we can spar." Zoro nods his agreement. "I'm A-"

Zoro unties the bandana from his sweaty hair.

"Zoro."

Huh, his name's Zoro too? He ties the bandana back around his left arm and looks up.

The man's eyes are wide and staring at his hair. "I ... I can't believe it."

Bag already around his shoulders, he takes a step back. This dude is acting weird.

"Sorry, sorry," the man placates with his arms out which makes Zoro step back again. Stranger or
not I'll beat the fuck out of this guy if he comes closer. "Your name's Zoro right?"
Eyes narrowed, he tilts his head up in a barely there nod. How did he know that?

The man shakes his head as though in disbelief. "I'm sorry, it's just I've only ever met one person
with green hair like yours."

"Don't know you." He mutters, gaze sharp.

"I- you do. It's me, Ace."

Ace? Didn't he just say his name's Zoro? What the fuck is he trying to pull here.

Wait.

... Ace?

"Yeah, that's right. I'm Luffy's brother- I knew you looked familiar. We used to play together as
kids! You have to remember me."

Luffy's brother.

Ace.

It's like all his thoughts have been wiped clean from his head. He stares blankly at the freckles on
the man's nose.

"Zoro?"

At the call of his name he snaps out of his daze with a shake of the head. "Ace." This is Ace. After
all these years?

"Zoro, I can't ... it's really you."

This is Ace.

This is Ace and he remembers me.

Fuck, he remembers me.

.
He settles into the chair across from Ace. "I wouldn't have suggested we get coffee if I knew you
didn't want," he says, sipping at the iced drink he has just ordered.

Zoro makes a noise of indifference.

"So you ..." he shakes his head. "I'm still in shock, honestly."

He hums.

"You've grown up so much since we were kids." Ace relaxes back against his seat.

He nods, gestures to Ace. I'm the one that grew up? I didn't even recognize you.

Ace laughs, "Yeah I guess we both have, huh?"

There's a lull of silence.

Zoro shifts uncomfortably in his chair. He feels icky. His hair still barely damp with sweat. Right
after they realized who each other were, Ace insisted they come to this cafe next to the gym.
Meaning Zoro hasn't had time to go home and shower and his sweaty clothes have dried on his
body. Ace- who had a change of clothes in his bag- changed before they left and is sitting
comfortable in a clean bright orange shirt and dark shorts.

Ace takes a long sip. "You don't talk much, do you?" Leans forward on his elbows.

Zoro shrugs, "Hard to."

He hums, an understanding sound. "I see." He taps his fingers against the table. Then his face
opens up, "I have to take you back to Luffy's with me!"

Shit.

Ace starts rambling about how "Luffy'll be so excited" and "he won't believe it" and- Zoro tunes
him out for a second.

How do I explain to him that I've already reconnected with Luffy but he doesn't know who I am?
And because I haven't told him, he hasn't connected the dots?

He decides to try something simple, "Met Luffy."

"You have?" Ace's eyes widen.

Zoro nods, curt.

"No way," he huffs. "He never told me about you! Why wouldn't he ... well a few months ago he
did call me about this guy he met with a nice scar. I guess that was you." Nice scar? He seems to
just be talking aloud at this point. Then his face draws into sharp lines. "You know we thought you
died."
And really, he has no clue how to respond to that.

"You just up and disappeared one day. We didn't know what to think," he continues, voice hard.

"Sorry," he finds himself apologizing. He never intended to leave them up and dry but it wasn't his
choice and that's not what happened anyway. Not that I can tell him what actually happened.

His dark eyes soften. "No, I ... I didn't mean it like that I just- I'm glad you're okay, Zoro."

He nods, and a strange feeling settles in his throat.

Okay. You're okay, right?

Fuck.

"Anyway, why don't we hang out us three just like old times?" He checks his phone. "Luffy should
be back from school by now."

Like old times. Fuck, I gotta tell him.

"Luffy doesn't ..." He takes a breath, tries to gather his scattered thoughts. Ace looks at him
questioningly. Don't mess this up. "Doesn't know."

Ace's brows furrow further. "What do you mean he doesn't know? Doesn't know what?"

"Me," he clarifies.

Though the clarification seems to do the opposite, the other man's face twisting in confusion. "I-
that doesn't ... what?"

How do I explain this? He points to himself, "Roronoa."

Ace's face twists further for a second, then something clicks. "That's ... Roronoa is your last name
right?"

He nods.

"But what does that have to do with anything."

"Luffy," he says, and points again to himself, "Roronoa."

"Is that ...? He calls you Roronoa?"

He nods rapidly.

"That means what, though? What do you mean he doesn't know you?"

Fuck, I'm making this more complicated than it is. It's just, the right words won't come out.
Barely any words will. Anxiety has its tight grip on his mind and voice. "Doesn't remember me."

"He thinks you're someone else."

Zoro nods his confirmation.

"And you haven't told him otherwise." The tone sounds accusatory.

"No."
 Ace's eyes search his face. He fights not to squirm under the heavy gaze. "Why."

He struggles to find the words. I want to, and I will. But not yet. "Will. Right time."

He's silent for more than a few moments. Then his voice comes out uncertain. "Well ... I guess
that's your choice. I don't- don't understand it. " And it's kind of funny to see him working this
whole thing out while drinking his small iced coffee. "But it's your choice, nonetheless."

Zoro sends him a grateful look.

"Leave it to Luffy to not connect the dots on this." He shakes his head fondly and Zoro breathes
easier knowing he's off the hook for now. "You sure you don't wanna just come over? I won't tell
him, I promise. I just really wanna hang out with you again." Ace's eyes are pleading. It's unfairly
cute and handsome at the same time.

Reluctantly he shakes his head. Can't. Need to go dirty myself for money. "Work," he responds.

"Fine, but we have to before I leave town, okay?."

"Promise."

"Good," he blows out a long breath, "Wow. It's really you. Can I give you a hug?"

"Yeah," the response is breathless and he's already out of his seat.

Ace has a couple inches on him and wraps him up in a tight hug. Zoro tucks his face down onto the
man's shoulder. Blinks away the tears in his eyes. Ace's arms are impossibly warm around him.

"I missed you, Zoro." There's water in his voice when he pulls away, "Let's spar next time. See if I
can still take you down."

He meets Ace's fierce smile with one of his own.

Chapter End Notes

whatta chapter
that dream scene literally wrote itself
did yall like the ending?

i didnt even know i wanted to write ace in this until i did but it worked (?) i think idk,
anyway ace is 100% an iced coffee bitch

also Otanjoubi omedetou (what zoro says at kuina's grave) means happy birthday in
japanese- it's a casual expression youd use for a friend

whatd yall think ?

 ive told you once, ive told you a millions times- my pain is nothing (help me)
Chapter Summary

a long night leads to a better morning for zoro ft some dick sucking and unfortunate
happenings

Chapter Notes

the beginning part esp has zoro w lots of unhealthy conditioned thoughts but dw hes a
fighter

i was gonna split this into 2 for suspense but then i said f suspense so enjoy a longer
chapter!

*lots of swearing in this chpt*

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Hot breath hits his back as the older man pants, head pressed into his nape. "I didn't go too
overboard, did I?" He nips a lazy bite to the back of Zoro's neck.

Yes, you did you fuc- "No." It comes out muffled from the mattress at his face.

"Shit we made a mess." He rolls off of Zoro ungracefully. Lays out next to him.

Zoro moves to sit up and fuck it hurts. The man was large and one of many he's taken today. Not to
mention the thin, stinging welts he had left on Zoro's back and ass. He grabs the unscented wipes
out of the bedside dresser. Leans back over.

The man is running a hand through his graying hair. "Thanks for going along with everything.
You're a good lay." Zoro doesn't respond. Dutifully wipes down the man's cum-stained chest from
where he had jerked them off against each other earlier. "Thanks, kid. You missed a spot." He
smiles something dirty and gestures to his now flaccid- and somehow still huge- penis. Zoro
hesitates for a fraction of a second and the man laughs. It's much too loud. "Don't worry, I'm not
gonna get hard again from you cleaning me up a little."

He nods, dabs as minimally as he can around the man's dick, and tosses the dirty wipe in the trash
can under the dresser. It's filled with used condoms and a singular granola bar wrapper from his
first customer of the night who almost fainted on him from low blood sugar.

"Don't know if I can even get up," his loud laugh sounds again. "You've got endurance I've never
seen, kid."

"Thank you." His voice is scratchy from the long night.

Smug, the man says, "Fuck, you sound wrecked." Then with a groan forces himself up. Ruffles a
hand over Zoro's sweaty, slightly cum-dried hair. "I'll make sure to ask for you if I come back." He
gets up on stubby, hairy legs. Walks over to where he had left his clothes. He slips them on and
says something about paying but Zoro's can't focus on much past the cooling cum on his thighs.

He snaps out of it at a sharp three raps on the door. He looks up to find the older man gone, a tip
left in the form of some cash on the dresser. A young lady who works here often but he has never
learned the name of walks in with a bucket of supplies. She collects the flat fee up front and always
comes in after each customer to clean the room before the next one.

Tonight he's seen her more than a few times, though he lost count around his eighth customer. And
if he had enough awareness he'd feel irritation rise at the pitying look she gives him. He's had a
long night and she knows it. Instead, as it is, he stands up off the bed on shaky legs. She walks
around him as he grabs another wipe and cleans himself off best he can. Then in an effort to
preserve the remaining dignity he has in front of her- though she's seen him naked more times than
he can count- he gets the silk robe he had discarded earlier and ties it around himself. Settles to a
sitting position against the wall by the door. Resists the urge to scratch into his skin.

She sanitizes the bed quick and efficient. Tosses the towel that had been under them in a bag. "Did
he use anything on you?"

Zoro nods, points to the thin cane on the floor. She says nothing. Just picks it up with gloved hands
and cleans it off before putting it back into the trunk at the foot of the bed. Distantly he thinks he
might be shivering, though the room is far from cold. His ass and back hurt. His thighs too. Fuck.
He curls the robe tighter around himself, brings his knees to his chest.

"That was your last one for the night, Roronoa. I'll finish cleaning up here if you want to go."

"Time?" The question comes out hoarse.

"It's almost two. Bar'll be closing soon."

He nods. Settles into a more comfortable position. There's no way he's walking through the club if
there are still customers out there. A barely dressed man is hardly a rare sight in here but if he has
one more person's eyes on him tonight he thinks he might just implode.

"You gonna wait?"

"Yeah."
She sighs, flicks her dark red braids over her shoulder. "Well I'm done in here. When I finish
cleaning up around the place I'll come back and grab you."

"Thank you," he whispers. She leaves the room then and he's left alone. Finds himself glaring at
the money the man left behind. His fingers itch to count it. Stop. You haven't done that in years. He
tucks his head into his knees.

I'm good.

I'm good.

His hands are shaking. He buries them in his hair. Lungs shutter against his ribcage with every
breath.

This is all you are. All you'll ever be.

Fuck.

Fingers tighten and pull. He squeezes his arms around his head.

Stop it.

You'll get out of here. He exhales and his shoulders heave with the erratic movement.

It's a few minutes until the handle turns again. The door opens next to him but he doesn't lift his
head. He's expecting the woman to tell him it's past closing. "Roronoa." Her voice comes out
urgent, "It's a little past 2, but Galdino is here."

His whole body freezes. No, that can't be right- He's been watching over the casino this past
month. "Rainbase?" He asks into his knees.

"Well that's where he was but I heard earlier today Crocodile called him here for something so he
switched out with Daz. He just got back. I-"

The door opens wider.

He looks up.

The woman quickly excuses herself and she rushes past Mr. 3 standing in the doorway.

"I hope the reason you're not on your knees in front of me is because you've fallen asleep with
your eye open. Are you sleeping, Roronoa?"

He doesn't move.

Mr. 3 peers down at him. "Hm, thought not." He straightens back up. The kick is not unexpected,
but the force behind it is- Mr. 3 swings his leg back and a booted heel meets Zoro's face. His head
snaps back. Heartbeat feels like it's pulsing where the shoe must've left an indent under his right
eye. "Shouldn't you have been kneeling and ready to take me when I first walked in?" His voice is
too casual. From too many long nights he knows that Mr. 3 gets off on treating him like a
worthless thing. Is he all that wrong? "Well?"

Zoro's sits there and stares. You treat me like shit. I don't wanna fucking kneel for you, you bastard.

"You used to be such a cute kid. Nice. Obedient." A hand twists into the fabric of his robe. "Now
look at you. Refusing to listen. Wearing clothes as though you think you deserve them."

"I do." He spits the words from a fire-filled mouth.

Mr. 3's disappointed expression doesn't shift. "Well that just won't do." Galdino rips the robe off
his shoulders. It pools around his waist and Zoro does nothing. He wants to knock him on his ass
and pound him with his fists. He wants to make him eat his teeth. But here he can't do any of that-
anything even close to an unfriendly touch will get him in trouble with Crocodile. And he'd much
rather endure whatever Mr. 3 wants to do than to disappoint Sir. They've been in a good period
recently. He doesn't want to be at odds with him again. At this point he thinks he'd do anything as
long as he can keep getting Sir's soft touches and smiles- No. You don't need him. You're gonna
leave remember? You can't stay here.

But he hasn't hurt me the past few weeks. It's been nice. Anyway, he never hurts me unless I'm bad.
If he didn't, there'd be no one else to keep me in check.

No, you can't think like that. You're-

His face being shoved into the ground forces him out of his thoughts. He must've been lost in them
for a minute too long. Mr. 3's shoe is on his bruised right cheek and it presses his other into the
floor. "You're getting worse, Roronoa. More and more disobedient by the day." I listen, just not to
you, bastard. He kicks Zoro over onto his back. "You're in desperate need of some retraining." A
hum, "I'm tired from my drive back here though. Just really came here for some quick pleasure.
You can still handle giving a blowjob, yes?"

Zoro sits up on his knees. Hands twitch at his sides. Don't hit him. Don't hit him. Don't hit him.

Mr. 3 unzips his pants and pulls himself out. "If you bite, I swear I'll pull a Crocodile and knock
out your other eye."

And I'll beat the fuck out of you in a breath. He opens his mouth.

"That's better." He groans as he feeds his cock through Zoro's tight lips. "This is how you always
should be, you understand?" The words are emphasized by soft moans. "Naked and ready to be
taken. What do you need clothes for, Roronoa?"

Fuck you, you piece of shit.

Mr. 3 starts thrusting.

He's right, though.

"C'mon, work for it."

You're not good for anything else.

He sucks his cheeks in, puts his tongue to use.

Mr. 3 seems to be enjoying himself if the sounds he's making are anything to go by. Zoro ignores
the easy way he relaxes into this. Ignores how each noise and thrust increases the feeling
of rightness that has settled in his chest.

"Fuck, that's all you needed to relax, huh? A cock in your mouth and-" he breaks off with a low-
pitched hum when Zoro swallows.

Shit, don't listen. You don't want this.

But he's still not wrong, is he?

Zoro loses himself somewhere in the rhythmic thrusting. The weight in his mouth so familiar it's
almost a comfort. He lets his thoughts run off. Focuses solely on the weight and taking it all in.

The thrusts become jerky and Mr. 3 mutters a slew of dirty phrases that Zoro tunes out. After a few
minutes he pulls his dick out.

Habit has Zoro chase after it with his mouth before he can catch himself. Fuck. He drops his head.
His cheeks are flaming- anger and embarrassment like lava in his throat.

Galdino laughs as he strokes himself to a finish. "There's a good slut."

The first splatters of cum hit his face. His eye doesn't leave the floor. Shame a raging storm
swirling in his stomach.

The sound of a zipper just barely registers when, spent, Mr. 3 tucks himself back in his pants.
"What a nice look for you, Roronoa."

He can feel the man's knowing smile.

"Why don't you leave it on there. I'll be seeing you tomorrow. I wanna see my load still painted on
that slutty face in the morning." He leans down then, brushes a thumb over Zoro's cheek and,
"here," swipes off some of the cum there. "I know how much you wanted this in your mouth, just
now. Have some." And he jams his finger past Zoro's slightly parted lips.

He breathes through his nose, not wanting to close his mouth around the offending digit. His
fingers are clenched into fists so tight it hurts.

I'm so tired. I'm so goddamn tired please just wanna sleep. I'm gonna bite his goddamn finger of if
he doesn't take it out in two seconds.

He does take it out after a second. Starts saying more stuff that Zoro can't really hear past the
ringing in his ears. There's a hand on his face again and then the door shuts behind him- with it
Zoro's self-respect.

He feels a line of cum making its way down his forehead.

You leaned into him.

But I didn't want it. I didn't want that. I didn't ...

The smell of him is trapped in Zoro's nose.

It doesn't matter what you want anyway. Just here to be used.

His robe is soft where it sits discarded underneath him.

'What do you need clothes for?' Mr. 3's voice chimes through his thoughts.

Shut up.

Should go upstairs. Need to fucking shower. But no-

'Leave it,' Mr. 3 had said. 'Wanna see myself still painted on your whore face.' Fuck. Get out. Stop
thinking. It doesn't matter what the fuck he says.

Zoro drags stubby nails down his cheeks. Which is a mistake because now the tips are covered in
Mr. 3's spent.

He wants to disappear into the floor.

It's past closing now, he's sure. So he stands- ignores the protesting of his bruised knees. He picks
his crumpled robe off the floor. Glares at it. Just a good-for-nothing fuck.

No, stop it. You're more than that. But the words feel empty today- legs shaky from fucking all
night, bruises on his thighs, marks on his back, cum on his face.

None of that matters. I'm not gonna stop fighting. Sure, I'm a whore, but not just that. I won't live
with myself if I'm just that. I'm going to get out of here.

Some of the cum has dried on his face.

Screw Mr. 3.

He scrubs the robe over his face, scratching all the sticky whiteness off of him.

Even if I am a whore, I'm definitely not his.

Screw the back rooms. Screw this whole place.

He grabs the money from earlier off the table and adds it to the stack of tips from other customers
of the night that he had stuffed in the dresser. Walks out of the room into the dimly lit hallway.
Which is empty along with the rest of the club except for the red-haired woman who's cleaning
around the stage. She barely glances twice at his naked figure as he makes his way to the bar.

Whoever was working it earlier is gone now so he grabs his set of keys where he had put them
behind the register at the beginning of the night. Walks over to the club's office and uses them to
unlock the door.

He sets the tip money on a long desk for Miss Doublefinger to sort through in the morning and
doesn't stay for longer than that. Locking the door behind him, he goes to the storage room- having
already decided there's no way he's going up to the apartment tonight. Doesn't think he can stand
having another warm body pressed against his right now, even if it's just Crocodile's.

The storage room is dark as always.

Some nights it brings back awful memories and he can almost see the floor where it was stained
red. But tonight the dim light and still quiet feels nothing but peaceful.

He breathes in deep. Out again.

After a minute, his muscles feel more loose, heartbeat more relaxed. It brings his attention to just
how tired he is. His bones are heavy with it.
Wanna sleep.

But the feeling of dirtiness itches under his skin. He turns on the faucet and dunks his hair under
the warm water. Lets fingers run through it to detangle and wash out all the cum-clumped sections.

When he lifts his head he's glad- not for the first time- that there's no mirror above this sink. He
can feel a bruise throbbing against his cheekbone and under his right eye where Mr. 3 had kicked
him earlier. He cups the water in his hands and wipes over the rest of his body where he can.

Good enough for now.

The room is silent again when he turns off the faucet.

With heavy steps he walks to the mattress in the corner, tosses on a loose tee and a pair of boxers.

He's so tired. Tucks himself under the thin blanket, eye to the ceiling. Lets it slip closed against
thoughts of inadequacy and escape.

He falls asleep to the sound of crickets chirping outside and the ringing in his own ears.

"-oa."

He blinks his eye open a sliver. It's not enough to see much of anything and the lid is heavy with a
need for more sleep so he closes it, tries to fall back to bed.

"Roronoa."

Shut up. Shut up. Let me sleep.

"Boy," a hand pinches his scarred cheek.

He doesn't flinch but he does open his eye again.

Curly blue hair.

He just manages to hold back his frustrated groan at the sight.

Let me sleep. Just let me sleep.

Miss Doublefinger starts talking. Something about inventory and orders but it's mostly a drone of
noise behind thoughts of too early, too early, too early for this.

Her heel clicks loud where it slams down next to the mattress. "Listen, boy."

Eye half open he looks up at her pinched face. She's dressed casually today and her green tinted
glasses sit low on her nose.

"I don't know what you're doing sleeping down here, but our shipment is coming in soon. I need
you to take stock before. Unless you remembered to take it last night and forgot to leave me your
counts."

I'm so tired. No I didn't take the fuc- He doesn't respond. Instead lifts his heavy arm and points to
the top of his wrist.

She sighs much louder than necessary. "Yes, it's early. Around 6. I always wake you at this time on
Sundays."

He holds in another groan. Fuck this. Fuck the inventory and fuck the order.

She is right of course. Every saturday night or sunday morning he has to take inventory. And every
sunday since he can remember, she wakes him up to help put up the order. It was one of the first
things he learned to help with when he first came here. But recently it's been hard to keep track of
his days so screw him if he didn't know exactly what day it was when he went to bed a few hours
ago, dead on his feet.

A few hours ago. Fucki- 6am. I haven't even been asleep 3 hours.

Don't complain. It's nothing new.

Right. He sits up.

"Great." She sets the tablet they use for recording the counts on the floor next to his mattress. Then
she turns, heels click against the cold floor as she walks to the storage room door. "Once you're
done, let me know."

"Shower?" He asks before she leaves, because now that he's more awake he's acutely aware just
how dirty he feels from last night.

She looks at him over her shoulder. "No time. You can take one once you're done. I'm sure
Crocodile would love to share it with you," her smile is sly. Zoro wants to wipe it off with his fist.
Instead he takes the blanket off of himself and gets to his feet. She closes the door behind herself.
Not particularly wanting to work in his boxers, he slips on a pair of loose pants from the pile next
to his makeshift bed.

He fixes up the mattress where it's rumpled from his restless sleep and then washes himself up in
the sink. Grabs the tablet and gets to work.

It takes him quicker than usual to finish taking inventory and put up the order and Miss
Doublefinger gives him an approving nod where she's running 'analysis' or some shit on the tablet
he had used earlier. "Mr. 3 should be here in a bit. If you head up now, you should just miss him."

Gratitude clogs his throat for a second and he damn near gets on his knees. I won't have to see him
today. "Thank you," he says, genuine in his sincerity.

She just waves him off.

He takes the dismissal and runs with it. Books it out of the club on sore legs, not wanting to have
any chance of running into Galdino right now.

In his haste to unlock the outside apartment door and walk to their place, he runs straight into
Crocodile.

Crocodile steps back in the short, narrow hallway leading to their apartment door. Takes a long
drag of his morning cigar.

"Sorry, sir." Zoro says. He chances a glance up to clock the man's expression.

He doesn't get much farther up Crocodile's face past the thin line of his downturned lips before he
averts his gaze to the floor. Shit.

"Where were you last night?"

He gestures behind him. Hopes Crocodile will understand where he means. The storage room is
often where he sleeps after a long night, and even though Crocodile is the one that let him put the
mattress up, he still almost always gives him shit for it.

"I see."

Zoro's right hand pulls at a thread on his pants. Waits for some type of something from Sir- an
order, a reaction, permission, anything. There's a new stain on the hallway floor.

"Did Zala send you for me?"

He quickly shakes his head. Miss Doublefinger would've told him if she needed Sir woken up for
anything.

In his low, morning voice Crocodile hums. "You seemed in a rush, angel."

Zoro recognizes the hidden question instantly. I didn't wanna see Galdino. Fuck, just be honest. If
he finds out from Miss Doublefinger why you were running out it'll be worse. "Mr. 3."

"I didn't think he'd be here this early."

By now it's close to 8am. Again he shakes his head. "Not."

"Oh?" Crocodile steps back in to reaching distance. "But you just said you were in a rush because
of him." Zoro stays silent. Crocodile takes another step. "Or was it a rush to get away before he
came?" His hand fists into Zoro's hair and he yanks it back, forcing Zoro's eye up at him. His dark
eyes are scalding.

Why is he so pissed? We've been fine, we've been good and I- I've been good. I haven't done
anything. Must've done something bad other than this, he never gets this angry at me sleeping in
the storage room.

"Did I say you could look me in the eyes?" His hand still tilting Zoro's head upward.

He drops his eye without hesitation and tries to move his head with it but stays held in place.
Stupid. Worthless. Why'd you think you could look at him?

"That's better. Y'know I saw Galdino about some business last night after he came back into town.
Though he seemed more relaxed than usual- said he visited you first." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- "He
also said you weren't listening too good. Which I assume is where this is from." The hand leaves
his hair to brush his swollen right cheek.

Zoro tries his hardest not to tense under it. Sir towers over him as his next step leaves almost no
room between them. He presses the pad of his thumb down hard over the bruised skin and it aches
under his touch. Zoro just manages to hold in his shocked noise. "I thought you grew out of that,
but it seems you need me to teach you another lesson in following orders?"

Rapidly he shakes his head no.

Crocodile hums, presses Zoro into the wall of the hallway. "You've been listening well to me,
angel, so maybe it was just him- I know you two have never gotten along. Just wish you had come
up last night, I was feeling awful lonely," he purrs the words into Zoro's ear. Grabs a handful of his
ass.

But the whole thing feels off. Like if he looks up at Crocodile's face he'll see nothing but ice in his
eyes- none of the playfulness he sometimes has.

He doesn't look, though. Doesn't need to anger him more than he already has.

"I should take you right here, that way anyone who walks by can see how much of a slut you are
for me." He bites at Zoro's lips. "Is that what you want, angel?"

Trick question. No is never really an option. He stays silent, hopes that Crocodile will take that as
an-

"Answer." He demands against Zoro's mouth, voice rough.

He forces the words up. "What you ... what you want, sir."

Crocodile's deep laugh is cold and it shakes through him. "There's my good angel." He slips his
hand to the back of Zoro's pants, "I bet you're still all loose from yesterday, hm?"

"N-no."

He can feel Crocodile's stony gaze like a weight on his face as he grabs his ass. "On your knees."
And he drops instantly, a dull throb running through his already bruised knees.

"Take me out." And he does. Strokes Sir's large cock to hardness. After some moments it's hot and
heavy in his hand, then Crocodile orders, "Suck," and it becomes hot and heavy in his mouth. He's
silent for a minute, then-

"There's a man I want you to meet." He pulls out, slaps it across Zoro's bruised cheek. It leaves a
wet smear. "He's a potential business partner, and you're gonna be good for him, understood?
You're my show of good faith." He shoves it back in till Zoro chokes on it.

He manages a nod.

"This is very important," his voice is slightly heavier than normal as Zoro works his cock. "I'm
trying to expand again, remember?" Zoro does remember. When he first came here years ago,
Crocodile only had the club. After a few years he expanded to the Rainbase casino. Then, some
months ago he mentioned wanted to open another place, but needing some support to do it in the
area he wanted. This man he's talking about must be that support. "I hear he's a kinky bastard, but
I'll let you heal before I arrange anything, don't worry." A groan as he shoves down his throat.
"Need you to be on your best." He pulls Zoro off by his hair- who gasps and takes quick breaths-
and pushes his head downward. Obediently he licks and kisses along the underside. "None of that
shit you pulled with Mr. 3 last night."

His anger and disappointment are heavy and the apology instantly falls from Zoro's lips. "Yes.
Sorry, sir," his voice muffled against Crocodile's dick.

"It's okay, angel. I know you'll be good." He gestures for Zoro to take him back in so he does.
Sensing that Crocodile is done with what he wanted to say, he brings his hand up and starts
working him to completion. "Have a ..." His voice cuts off on a moan. "Fuck- nice surprise for you
if you do good." A surprise? Zoro dares a glance up. Sir looks down at him with a level gaze, eyes
warmer than they were earlier and Zoro feels relief at the expression. "Eager, aren't you? I'll tell
you what it is if you want, but finish me off first."

It takes him a minute but he does and Crocodile finishes in his mouth. He leaves his cock in for a
moment and when he pulls out the cum is already down Zoro's throat.

"You wanna know now or after you meet him?"

He keeps his eye at Crocodile's chin. Answering out loud could go badly because, really, the right
answer doesn't have anything to do with Zoro's opinion at all. Whatever you think is best, sir. Tries
to convey the answer with his expression.

Crocodile chuckles. "Okay, okay." What could it be? Last time he gave me a surprise was earlier
this spring. A whole week off where he took me with him around on one of his out of town trips. He
treated me with dinner at a new restaurant each night and a nice slow fucking after.

Fuck, a week off would be heavenly.

Zoro tucks Crocodile's dick back into his boxers and zips his pants back. Stays on his knees
because he doesn't gesture for Zoro to get up.

"I'm gonna let you start fighting again."

Disbelief fills him first. He's gonna let me ...

"Sir?"

"I know you miss it." And Crocodile's expression is serious.

Zoro's eye waters. He's not kidding. Rapidly he blinks away the tears. "Thank you," he chokes out.

Sir nods, then holds out his arms. "You've been so good. C'mere, angel."

Zoro surges up to his feet, smushes his face against Crocodile's chest. With Sir's warm arms
surrounding him, the next emotion to fill him is hope and it stays.

.
The air is still. He shifts the bag on his shoulders and walks down the street to the gym. There's a
bounce in his step despite the ache in his backside. After Crocodile left, he showered and threw on
his gym clothes- a baggy hoodie and shorts- so he finally feels clean after last night. He knows he's
just gonna get sweaty again after his workout but he couldn't stomach the thought of training with
that itch still under his skin.

He walks into the gym and scans his card.

The large man at the front desk- Jinbe, if he's remembering right- sends him a large smile. "You
look in a good mood today, Zoro."

His lips twitch into an easy grin and he nods. The elation and hope from earlier still hasn't left him.
Sir is gonna let me fight again.

He makes his way to the locker room and takes out his water, rope, and wraps, throws the rest of
his bag in his locker and closes it. All I have to do is be good for this guy and I can get back to
fighting. Fucking finally. He ties the blue bandana around his head, covering his hair.

Walking back out to the gym he finds an empty corner and starts skipping with his jump rope. He
does a few sets of at least a hundred reps as a warm up. Need to build my endurance even more if
I'm actually getting back into it.

My grappling too, fuck. But I haven't seen Smoker in a while. Three months ago the man
disappeared off the face of the earth.

He was a cop that used to come to the gym around the times Zoro would. He was into jiu jitsu and
always sparred with and taught Zoro new ground techniques. Then suddenly he was gone. I'll have
to find someone else to spar with now that I have a reason to. He knows his grappling is still
strong, he practices old takedowns and techniques on a dummy or by himself at least once a week
but it's different from sparring with an actual person who will react and try to take you down too.

He sets the jump rope down after about fifteen minutes, a slight sweat having just broken out on
his covered forehead. Runs through shadow boxing, box jumps, and some other staples before
hopping on the bag to practice his kicks.

Starting off slow he works his way up to combos as he goes through a few intense rounds. After
the first few kicks the soreness in his legs from last night becomes something he can ignore and he
focuses solely on explosiveness and technique.

He snaps a series of hard kicks down against the bag.

"Roronoa!"

His leg freezes mid-air. Luffy? He lowers his leg and turns to see the floppy haired man jogging
toward him, a wide smile on his face.

Luffy. He returns the smile. Luffy stretches his arms and attempts to tackle him in a hug that Zoro
ducks out of. He whines, "Roronoa."

Zoro shuffles on his feet in the face of Luffy's pout. "Sweaty," he explains.

"I don't care, dummy," Luffy protests, but before he can get much further Ace joins up, clapping
them both on the shoulder.

"Ace."
Ace nods, smiling, "Roronoa." I know Ace trains, but why is Luffy here? I didn't think he was a
fighter.

Zoro gestures to Luffy, "Train?" And wipes his sweaty face on his hoodie sleeve.

Luffy shakes his head, "No, no. I'm just here cause Ace said you might be and I really really
missed you. I haven't seen you in like a month!"

There's a warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest. He missed me? The warmth rises like hot air to his
cheeks. "Sorry."

"That's okay, I figured you were super busy. And then when Ace told me he met you here I knew I
had to come with him and try to see you."

"How've you been Roronoa?" Ace sounds distracted. When Zoro looks up he finds Ace's eyes
focused on his red and purple knees that peek out from under his shorts. Those eyes travel up his
body until resting on his face- specifically his swollen and bruised right cheek.

"Good." He says, with as much conviction as he can. And though it might not look it, today it's
actually true. Despite the shit night he had yesterday in a week of shit nights, today he got the best
news he's gotten in a while so yeah, he's good- he's happy as fuck. And anyway these days its more
rare to see his knees not rubbed raw and bruised.

Though Ace knows none of that and his eyes are just a bit too knowing for Zoro's liking. He shifts
uncomfortably. Ace, thankfully, averts his gaze. "That's good," he says, and it's skeptical. Though
his next sentence is much lighter, "Nice to see you again, man."

Zoro nods.

"So, you wanna spar? See if I can still take you down."

Luffy shifts up and down on the balls of his feet. "I didn't know you guys were gonna fight. But it
looks like you already were in a fight, Roronoa."

He shakes his head, subtly turning the bruised side away from Luffy's wide eyes, "M'good."

"Okay, but I don't think I can take any of those kicks you were throwing earlier," Ace chuckles. "Is
it fine if we just grapple?"

Zoro nods, smiles at the small compliment. "Change?"

Ace is already in a normal BJJ outfit, but Zoro's is more suited for boxing and there's no way he's
risking his shorts riding up during their sparring and Ace or Luffy seeing his ugly, scarred and
purple-bruised thighs. Especially not with the keen eyes Ace already has on him.

"Yeah, yeah go ahead. I'm just gonna warm up here."

He nods and walks to the locker room as Luffy starts messing around on the bags. Unlocks his
locker and takes out the jiu jitsu set he keeps in his gym bag. With an eye on the door he strips his
hoodie and shorts and tugs the grappling clothes over his body.

The fabric is stretchy but small and Zoro pulls at it where it sits tight over his arms and stomach. It
gives full coverage at least- the rash guard longsleeved shirt and pants a nice navy blue that cover
all the evidence of his long week save his neck and face. He had bought the outfit earlier in the
year because the color reminded him of Kuina. He didn't realize how tight it had gotten until now.
Now, that he's gonna be sparring with his old friends.

It's fine. You're fine.

He takes a deep breath, locks his stuff up again and walks back out.

There's a rapid tapping against his forearm. He relaxes his arms from their rear-naked chokehold
around the sweaty neck.

"Good job!" Luffy shouts excitedly from where he's watching off to the side.

"Again." Ace flips off him with ease, jumping to a stand. "Or are you too tired?" He stares down at
Zoro with a lazy smile, offering his arm.

I'm not the one that just got submitted again, he wants to say.

They're both breathing slightly heavier than normal, only having gone five rounds against each
other. He's gotten a submission out of Ace for four out of them. Zoro grabs the outstretched hand.
Lets Ace pull him to a stand.

"Anyway, I thought you said you weren't as good at grappling as you were at boxing."

He hums the affirmative.

"You must be really good at boxing then."

He shrugs.

"Roronoa's really strong," Luffy comments.

Zoro glances over to see Luffy looking at him appreciatively. He mutters a, "Thank you," with
cheeks red from more than just their training. Then gets low into position and Ace matches him.
He's learned that Ace has a serious face right when he's about to go. The taller man is wearing it
now. It reminds him of old times when he and Luffy would do something dangerous like go
swimming in the ocean at night or scale the lighthouse from the outside and sit atop the slanted
roof.

It's a comforting look- in a way.

"Ready?"

A sharp nod.

"Can I say it this time?" Luffy asks.

They both nod.

Luffy raises his arm and lowers it in a downward snap. "Fight!"

Ace lunges and Zoro gets one hand on the back of his neck, the other at his wrist. Ace grabs under
his right thigh. Tries to trip him and Zoro spins out of the pressure before he can.

Luffy makes sounds of excitement. They're already close when they move at each other again. This
time the positions are reversed and Ace's fingers hook tight around him. Zoro uses his free arm to
push at the elbow and get him off. In the same motion he goes straight into a takedown, easily
closing his arms around Ace's waist, planting his front foot and pushing off and twisting with the
other. He slams him to the floor. Tries to get his back but Ace immediately pulls guard.

Ace said they were just gonna purely grapple so he keeps his fists to himself and after some
working around manages to get out of the closed guard. He doesn't fully stand up though, instead
maneuvering around the man's attempts at open guard to snap down on his right.

He's got side control now and sees an opening. He grabs Ace's left arm- who is actively trying to
escape. Keeping just his toes on the mat, Zoro angles his legs and drives his weight forward to
flatten him out. Then in one quick motion he's got his left leg over Ace's head and his left arm
around the back of Ace's. He drops his weight. Ace tries to twist out but Zoro tightens his knee
against his body and twists his wrist palm up. Keeping a slight bend in Ace's arm he hugs it to his
chest and pinches his shoulder blades together as he pulls.

After a second the tap comes.

Zoro is off him immediately.

"Fuck," Ace breathes out. He's sprawled out on the mats, staring up at the gym ceiling. "You're so
fast."

He acknowledges the statement with a shrug.

"That was awesome!" Luffy latches around his neck in a loose hug from behind. Zoro squeezes a
hand around the thin arms, leans back ever slightly into him.

"I mean it. You pulled that kimura so fast and I couldn't get out of your side control," Ace says,
catching his breath.

"Big," Zoro says. Though he's shorter than the other, he sits easy around 95 kg where Ace is
probably 80.

"Yeah, Roronoa's really big. So muscly." His voice is thoughtful and one of Luffy's hands trail
down ever slightly to splay over his left pec.

Ace shakes his head and sits up, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I've sparred with big guys
before. I can work 'em around. But you ..." he shakes his head some more, "you're different. You're
quick and you know how to use your weight."

He hums.

Ace laughs. "That's a compliment. You're really good at this."

It's all I'm good at. Just this, bartending, and fucking. Fuck. Stop. Don't think like that. "Thank
you."

"Are you guys gonna go again?" Luffy lets go and hops to sit between them. Zoro pretends not to
miss the arms around him.
Ace just laughs, "I don't know, Luff. I think I'm boring him."

He shakes his head and points to the man, "Really good."

"Sure, sure." Ace smiles.

"You are, Ace." Luffy agrees, shoving at him. "I've never been able to take you down."

Ace hums.

"Train for?"

He hums again, this time questioningly.

"He's asking you why you train, Ace." Luffy clarifies Zoro's half question, shoots him a grin.

"Oh, sorry." Zoro shakes his head for Ace to continue. He's used to people not being able to read
the meaning in his words. Luffy's the only oddball that knows how to understand me, other than
Sir. "I don't really train for anything, not anymore." He takes a breath. "Used to think this was my
purpose, used to ..." Luffy inches slightly closer to his brother. "Then I found it somewhere else,"
Ace's somber face turns back to a smile. "Now I just do this for fun."

Zoro nods, sensing that there's more to it, but Ace is already standing up, offering him and Luffy a
hand.

"Not sure when I'm gonna see you again, man. I'm leaving town tomorrow."

Fuck, I forgot. He tries not to let the disappointment show on his face. That's right, Ace said he
only took off of work for a few weeks. He works as a firefighter a state over, which Zoro thought
was hilarious when he told him because when they were kids all Ace liked to do was light shit up.
"Next?"

"When am I coming to visit next?"

Zoro and Luffy nod in sync.

He puffs out a breath, "I'm not sure. I try to visit this little shit," he squeezes Luffy's cheek who
tries to wriggle out of the grip, "every couple months at least for a weekend."

"Don't worry, Roronoa," Luffy says, after he throws Ace's hand off. "When he comes back, I'll let
you know."

He dares to raise his eye. Meets the bright smiles of the two brothers. "Thank you."

"Now let's get some food, I'm starving!"

.
It's a rainy and foggy night when Crocodile finally arranges for him to meet the man who is to be
his ticket to fighting again. Sir says his name is Mihawk. One of two potential business partners
essential to Crocodile's expansion. Sir has met him a few times before, but says Zoro needs to
make a good impression since it'll be his first time meeting him.

Maybe it was the fog or the lateness of the hour- maybe it was the pain he went through- but when
Zoro looks back at that night it's all a blur.

Sir had dressed him up all nice. A black suit paired with a similarly dark undershirt. He convinced
Sir to let him without a tie and then they drove a half hour to meet the man.

When the car stopped it was in front of a fancy restaurant. Sir shot him a look that explicitly listed
out his expectations and Zoro nodded as they were guided by a waiter through empty tables to the
back of the room where the only other person in the room was seated.

Mihawk wore a dark maroon outfit that had a cowboy hat to match. A plume of large white
feathers ran from one side of it, easily visible from where the his head was tilted downward.

"Sir Crocodile," the waiter had introduced before walking away.

The man looked up and settled piercing yellow eyes on Crocodile. Neither moved for a long
moment. Then the man flicked his eyes off Sir to Zoro and it looked as though he was devouring
Zoro's body as his hawk eyes moved up and down it.

"Please sit." He said to Sir. Zoro immediately took off Sir's heavy overcoat and laid it on the back
of his chair which he then pulled out. He waited for him to be seated before sitting down himself.
They were both across the table from the man. He had a short but pointy beard and mustache. The
dark hair of it matched the hair of his widow's peak that could be seen when he took his hat off and
set it down on the white tablecloth.

The waiter returned with a bottle of red wine and poured it into three glasses.

"Mihawk, I appreciate you accepting my invitation for tonight."

Mihawk nodded, sipping at the freshly poured wine. "Thank you for allowing me to pick the
location. I am eager to finalize our deal."

"As am I." Zoro tactfully kept the smirk off his face at hearing Sir talk formally. "Everything
should be in place by next week."

"I'm glad to hear that." The man hummed. "And who might this be?"

Crocodile clapped a heavy hand to the back of Zoro's neck. He remembers having to put an effort
in to not flinch, both under Sir's hand and the man's narrow, hawk-like gaze that had focused on
him once again. "As a show of thanks and good will, I brought Zoro along with me. He's here for
your pleasure tonight, so please feel free to use him however you see fit." And however it was
possible, the man's gaze became even hungrier than before. Zoro resisted the urge to shrink under
it.

The man's eyes would haunt him for weeks to come.

Be good, he thought. That's all you have to do.

Be good. He remembers repeating the mantra endless times that night.

He learned that Crocodile calling Mihawk kinky was akin to a person totalling their car and saying
it just 'had a scratch'- a severe understatement.

To put it simpler, he was a sadistic piece of shit.

After Sir left, he rode with Mihawk to what he assumes was the man's place a few minutes away.
He was led into a dark lit room.

It was a painful few hours.

Mihawk insisted on being called Master. He tied Zoro up in ribbons and fucked him slow and hard.
There was something on Zoro's dick to stop him from cumming, though he didn't think he even
could with the unyielding, sharp crop the man hit him with through his fucking.

He was bleeding all over long before Mihawk took out the knife.

When the man sliced him in half from shoulder to hip he was three rounds past fucked out and
could barely scream from how excruciating it was.

It was the only time Mihawk smiled the whole night and he couldn't, he can't-

It felt like there was blood in his lungs. He remembers that all he could think before he passed out
was- it's okay, I was good. I can fight again, I- and how hard the rain was pelting against the
windows.
Chapter End Notes

umm hello plot- yes the cross guild is ofc in this

some of ur favs here and dw i didnt forget abt law, he'll be back in shortly :]

also fuck mr 3, and ik another miss doublefinger appearance i extremely dislike her but
shes so easy to write

this was the longest chpt in the story so far so pls lmk what yall thought !!
 yes, i'm sliced up. yes, im dealing with it (mostly)
Chapter Summary

recovery sucks

daz is .... yeah. also usopp and zoro finally get their shit figured out and some of ur
favs come in at the end (ft. stripper zoro- not explicit tho)

Chapter Notes

yall ik its been a minute. this was gonna be one big chpt but then i was like 11k is
TOO much so i split it up. ima post the other half later today probably

See the end of the chapter for more notes

After two weeks on bed rest, Zoro has decided he hates bed rest.

It's far from the first time he's had to take it easy after an injury, but it is the first time he's had to do
it for so long.

Once he was all stitched up, it took about three full days for the pain to become bearable without
meds. He still doesn't know how the injury didn't fucking kill him- Mihawk practically sliced him
in two. Goddamn sadist, probably not the first time he's done it to someone.

He started getting out of bed after four days. On the fifth, Crocodile found him passed out in the
bathroom after he had tried taking off the bandages and accidentally popped open some stitches.

The past week has been a drag. A blur, more like. Just pain mixed with restlessness to get out of
the damn apartment.

Crocodile hadn't said anything about the fucking canyon in his torso other than 'he was a little
rough with you, huh, angel?'. But he is making him stay on apartment rest until he determines Zoro
is in the clear to get back to work.

He hopes it's soon. Doesn't think he can take another week of sitting around in here doing nothing.
Though he has started exercising in the living room since the other day- just light work to keep
himself active and limber while the wound heals.

He's eager to get back to the gym. Fighting was his whole reason behind agreeing to see Mihawk in
the first place- not that he had much of a choice in it, admittedly. But despite the setback this injury
has given him, he doesn't let it bring him down. Even on the days when the pain gets to be too
much. He's determined to push forward.

Determined to get to fighting shape. Sir is letting me do it again. There's no way I'm giving up on
my chance now.
Today is a painful day. He runs some light training in the morning- footwork and head movement
drills, a few rounds of shadowboxing, some bodyweight squats, and pullups on the bedroom
doorframe. By the end he's worn out. Not from the exercises themselves, but from the pulsing
down his chest and stomach.

The injury has been a bitch to deal with. It feels like every movement, every slight twist, pulls at it
painfully.

He's dealing with it though.

He's fine, really.

"You in here, pet?" Daz's voice calls loud from where he must've just walked into the apartment.

Where else would I be?

"Bedroom," he shouts back loud enough for the man to hear past the closed door.

It opens a few seconds later. Zoro looks up from where he's folding laundry on the bed.

Daz chuckles, and it sounds off coming from the normally stoic man. "Well, isn't that a sight." He
walks further into the room. Sits at the edge of the bed on Zoro's right. "You seem to be healing
well, Roronoa-kun."

Zoro nods, lowering his head back and focusing again on the pile of clothes in front of him.

"Croc sent me to see how you're doing."

"Good." He mumbles. "Where?" Sir never came back last night.

"Where what?" Daz asks.

"Sir."

"Oh. Where is he?"

Zoro nods.

"He had to head out yesterday. There were some issues with the new place we're trying to open." A
sigh. "I came back from Rainbase this morning to watch over here while he sorts it out."

He hums, folds a pair of socks.

"You good to work tomorrow?"

Curiously he looks up. Gives a tentative nod.

"Okay, get dressed."

His eyebrows furrow.

"The bar isn't too busy right now," Daz explains, "I'm gonna have you work a few hours today
while it's slow. If you feel fine after that, I'll let you go back."

Finally, getting out of this fucking apartment.

"Alright, c'mon."
Should probably change these bandages first just in case, I think they got loose from when I was
working out.

"Change," he says, and lifts his t-shirt ever slightly to gesture to the loose bandages wrapped
around his upper body.

Daz stands up and walks around the bed until he's leaning over Zoro. "Okay strip."

He clutches his shirt protectively over his chest. Shakes his head. "I can." Don't need Daz's fucking
help for this.

Daz huffs. "Fuck off it, pet. I'm not in the mood." He reaches his arm to grab at the shirt and Zoro
scooches away from him on the bed. His expression darkens.

Shit.

"You wanna get back to work or not?"

Of course. Anything to not be stuck in here another day. He nods.

"Then, strip. I'm not having you fuck up your bandages and bleed out in front of customers."

Hesitantly he reaches for the bottom of his shirt. It's only dully painful to pull it over his head.
Once off, he averts his gaze.

"Get in the bathroom."

Leaving the laundry on the bed, he quickly follows the order. Daz slaps his ass when he passes,
then trails behind him.

He hops up on the sink counter.

"You have clean ones?"

Zoro nods, points to the cabinet where there's a basket of ointment, gauze, and fresh wraps. Daz
grabs the basket, then starts unraveling the loose bandage around his torso.

When the bandages are all taken off, he sucks in a sharp breath. Then laughs. Zoro shrinks under
the sound. "Fuck, Croc told me Mihawk cut you up but shit- it looks like he tried to kill you.
Should I clean it?"

He shakes his head, "Yesterday."

"Okay." He tears open some new gauze packs, starts taping them down over the diagonal slice that
runs from shoulder to hip. "Shit. That's what you get for not listening, Roronoa-kun."

"I did." He says, vehemently. Because that night he was on his best behavior. But, fuck, lower your
tone. Don't argue with him, don't-

"Really?" Daz mocks. "Y'know I don't remember telling you you could open your mouth, but-"
Zoro hunches his shoulders, you stupid fuck who said you could talk? "But that is surprising
considering you never listen to anyone except Crocodile. Or was the dick so good it made you
obedient for once?" He laughs, "'Obedient', fuck, I sound like Galdino."

He feels his face flush and stays silent, head tilted down and to the side. Don't talk, don't say
anything. He didn't say you could talk. Daz stares at him heavy.
"Interesting," he says with a smile. Once done with the gauze pads, he grabs a clean bandage roll.
"Hold this," he presses one end to the top of Zoro's chest. He holds it down and Daz slowly wraps
it around his torso, keeping it tight before tying it off at Zoro's hip. His hands linger.

"Thank-" He snaps his mouth shut. You can't talk. He didn't say-

His mouth is twisted into a grin. "Go ahead, pet."

Relieved, he breaths out. "Thank you," he finishes.

"Mm, you can do better than that."

He glances down at Daz's crotch, back up at his chin. Daz gives no indication of what he wants
him to do. Hesitant, he reaches his hand out to cup the clothed crotch.

"There you go." He sighs, "Wish you were still smaller, fuck, I'd take you right now if you weren't
so ..." He does a quick gesture to Zoro's height and the width of him. Zoro knows he doesn't do it
for Daz anymore- the man hasn't actually fucked him in a couple years- knows Daz liked it more
when Zoro was a kid, never skinny but shorter, smaller, easier to throw around and pin. But a hand
is still a hand, a mouth still a mouth he supposes.

In all, Daz is beyond pent up so it's a relatively quick ordeal to reach into his pants and jack him
off to completion.

"Thank you," he repeats when Daz finishes releasing into his hand.

"Yeah yeah, get dressed, I'll meet you downstairs Roronoa-kun. Don't take long," he throws a
towel over Zoro's sticky mess of a hand.

He nods. Reaches over to wash the cum off his hands under the warm water of the sink. Hears the
front door of the apartment close behind Daz. He slumps against the mirror.

Ignores the twinge that runs through his wound at the movement, already regretting having to
work today. Tomorrow fine, he should be good, but right now his chest hurts and he just wants to
finish the goddamn laundry and-

One step at a time. At least you're getting out of the apartment. Once I'm back to work I can get
back to the gym. Then fighting.

One step at a time.

His first day back to work goes relatively well. So does the day after that. And the next.
Crocodile still hasn't returned.

When he asks Miss Doublefinger about him in the morning she mentions Mihawk and things
getting 'complicated' but ultimately jumps around the question.

He pushes down his rising worry and goes to the gym. Only stays for about thirty minutes of light
cardio before heading back to the apartment.

He showers and throws on a clean set of soft, house sweats. Whips up a quick lunch. While it's
cooking he sits on the carpet of the living room. In the quiet of the apartment he meditates like
Kuina taught him to. Focuses on his breathing. Takes control of the chaotic rhythm of his thoughts.

Slows them.

Lets them swing back and forth in a steady motion until he's centered.

He runs through a series of positive thoughts or 'affirmations' as Kuina had called it when she
taught him them. Then adds in some of his own.

I'm more than this. I'm a fighter. Not gonna give up. Never gonna stop fighting.

He doesn't bother to visualize his fighting technique this time, just focuses on his breathing.

He loses track of time.

Gets pulled out of his meditating by the beeping of the oven. Puts his lunch into a bowl and eats it
snuggled up on the couch under a warm blanket. He turns the tv onto the baking channel he heard a
customer talking about the other day. When Crocodile is here, normally Zoro doesn't watch tv
unless it's for ufc. But he's not here and Zoro didn't spend too long at the gym earlier so he has
some time to kill before his shift tonight.

The show playing is about a cake competition. It's easy enough to understand and he enjoys
watching the bakers run around the kitchen to make their decorative desserts. After a couple
episodes he gets up and cleans the apartment while it plays in the background and soon enough it's
time for him to get ready for work. He throws on a black button up with black pants and shoes. He
rolls the sleeves up and locks the door behind himself to go downstairs.

Miss Monday is the bouncer tonight and she gives him a slight smile as he walks in. A buzz of
noise that comes with the medium-sized afternoon crowd hits his ears. There's a person behind the
bar that Zoro doesn't recognize- Miss Doublefinger must've called in a freelancer this morning. He
greets the pink-haired woman with a slight nod of his head.

"Are you relieving me?" She asks, wiping her hands off on her apron.

"Yeah."

"Oh, good." She starts wiping down supplies she had left out on the counter. "Sorry, just finished
with a rush, I'll clean up a minute and be out of your ..." she looks up at him, "... green hair." She
says, as though hers isn't hot pink

He shakes his head. "Got it," takes the muddler she was reaching for before she can grab it.

She looks at him skeptically, "You sure?"

A nod.

"Wow, thank you!" She smiles and slaps him on the back, untying her apron and slipping it over
her head. "Y'know it wasn't too bad working here." She grabs the tip jar. "I'm Perona. You can get
my number from your boss and if you ever want a day off let me know." She turns to walk toward
the office, holds up her tips. "Gonna go see if I can exchange this for some bigger bills, be right
back!"

"Thanks."

He has just finished cleaning up and refilling a customer's pint when she returns with the empty tip
jar. She sets it back down on the bar counter and knocks the wood next to it three times. "Have a
good shift, see you around." He nods as she walks around the counter. Is still mentally settling in
for a long night when he hears a familiar voice, "Another!"

The shout comes slurred and he turns to the source of the noise to see Usopp sitting at the head of
the bar.

There's an empty beer bottle in front of him and Zoro grabs an identical, full one off the shelf. Only
slightly wary, he walks toward him. The man still makes him nervous. He hasn't come around to
liking Zoro despite the many times they've hung out together and it frustrates Zoro because he
doesn't know why.

He sets the replacement in front of the man and tosses the empty one that's shoved into his hands a
second later. It has a nice blue label. The curly-haired man barely glances his way.

Usopp doesn't go out drinking often, he remembers the man talking about it once- that he doesn't
like feeling tipsy or drunk. So Zoro knows there must be something wrong. He decides, "Hi,
Usopp," is a good way to get the man's attention.

It does and he finally looks up at the call of his name. It takes him a second to focus on Zoro's face.
When he finally does, recognition visibly dawns on him. "Ror ... roro ... Rorono-a." He sniffs after
the struggle that was his name, then continues in his slow speech. "I didn't ... know this was the bar
you work at."

Zoro grunts.

"Been a long time."

"Mhm."

"Where ... are ... where've you been?"

"Work," he says, because he's not about to tell Usopp he's been recovering after almost dying from
a bloody- in more ways than one- fucking.

"You like it here?"

Don't have a choice. He shrugs.

Usopp nods, takes a swig. He shifts on the stool and the silence stretches.

He looks relatively okay despite his watery eyes and the firm downturn of his lips. But something's
wrong, he knows it. Zoro decides to be blunt. Decides that Usopp is quite possibly too drunk to
handle anything else. "What's wrong?"
Usopp shakes his head rapidly, "Nothing," then clutches at it. "Everything," he moans. His voice
raises in pitch, "'M dizzy now," and the last word is stretched out over a couple seconds.

Fuck how much did he drink already?

"Talk."

Usopp looks hesitant. If Zoro wasn't sure the man is experiencing some sort of mental break, he'd
find the way Usopp purses his lips shut tight enough to zip them, extremely funny. But Usopp is at
the very least going through something so Zoro does nothing except repeat his intention.

"Say what's wrong."

And he does.

Zoro finds that Usopp is layers upon layers of a mess of insecurities with self-esteem and daddy
issues. He gives him the space to talk- though truthfully it's closer to a drunken rambling- while
serving customers. Tries to help the man through his negative thoughts. Tries to be a support for
him.

"Fuck, I- I shouldn't want to ... I know. But- just wanna'to make him proud y'know. Prove myself to
him," he mumbles, head laying on the countertop.

Zoro nods. Waits for him to continue. When he doesn't, Zoro says, "Good person. Prove- only to
you." Usopp raises his head. "If he ... doesn't see. Loss."

He's not sure Usopp fully understands his broken speech but the long-nosed man nods all the same.
He puts on a strong face, "You're right. That's his loss." Then he seems to get energized. "Fuck
this, 'vbeen sitting here moping. Fuck him! I don' owe him shit. As long as 'm proud of me ... 'sall
that matters."

Zoro smiles at the man's slurred enthusiasm.

"Y'know, I 'lways thought you were just a jackass who didn't care. But you've listened to me bitch
this whole time." Usopp says, almost in wonder, tongue loosened from drinking. "Didn' have to.
Thanks, man."

"Better?"

Usopp nods, eyes foggy but no longer on the verge of tears. "Feel 'llot better, Roronoa. Sorry for all
... when I was a jerk to you."

His head is shaking before he can even think about it. It's nothing I didn't des- No. Shut up. "'S
okay."

"Probably ... 'm- you probably think I'm dramatic as fuck."

He shakes his head firmly. "Anytime. Come talk."

"Thank you." Usopp smiles. "Well, should prob'lly get going."

Zoro places a hand on the counter in front of him. "Taxi."

"No, no 'm not too far. Just gonna walk," he stands up and stumbles forward, grabbing onto the bar
for support. Zoro gives him a 'really' look. Usopp laughs. "Yeah ... taxi might be better."

He calls for one off the bar's landline and they talk more casually until it arrives.

Zoro only comprehends about a third of their conversation- partially because Usopp is beyond
drunk and partially because of the complex words he uses- but it's okay, because Usopp is more
relaxed and he's laughing now like he does with the others. It makes Zoro feel warm. He breathes
easy when Usopp walks out to the taxi parked idle outside. He came around to me.

Finally.

Crocodile still isn't back the next night. Though Miss Doublefinger at least says that Sir is 'alright'
with more confidence this time. She also says that Zoro is working the stage. One of their
contracted dancers called in sick this morning and it's a Saturday which means full house, all hands
on deck. He's backstage now in the cramped dressing room, rushing to get ready.

Miss Doublefinger has him wearing a shirt today to hide the bandages still on his chest. It's a type
of fake sheer material and it's thick and fucking scratchy as hell. It makes him wish he was more
appreciative of the times he went bare chested- his scarred back slathered in makeup- to dance the
stage.

He takes care of covering his lower half in a generous amount of concealer. Uses half the fucking
bottle just to hide the jagged, raised scar on his right leg. The rest of them aren't too noticeable but
he diligently covers his usual, more prominent burn and knife scars with a thin coat of the stuff.

Someone starts yelling something that he barely hears over the loud music. He assumes it's almost
time for him to go out. One of the dancers- a new lady he doesn't recognize- gives him a shy smile
and an even shyer 'can I?' that he nods to before she starts glossing his lips, blushing and
highlighting his cheeks and applying a powder and liner to his eyelids. She helps him put mascara
on the lashes of both his closed and working eye.

"Thank you," he pecks a kiss to her cheek before she pulls away.

Her hand cups the kissed cheek gently and it quickly turns pink. "You're welcome." She turns to
someone at the door, then back. Tosses him a blue hat. "Let's go, you're closing the night!"

Now, normally, he doesn't pay attention to the crowd. Only just enough to make sure everyone's
having a good time and to give extra attention to people that look like they're tipping decent. Either
way it's hard not to notice when, towards the end of his set a man dressed in a bear costume-
Bepo if he remembers right- hands him a whole wad of cash. Most people- especially the women-
come to the shows as simply a fun thing with friends. Others for the sex appeal. He's not sure
exactly which reason Bepo is there for but regardless the stack was thick so Zoro is a little more
showy on his next drop.
The music is so loud he can't hear it anymore, just feels the way his ears pound with each heavy
beat. The bright lights make him glad he only has one eye now otherwise he's sure he'd be sporting
a massive headache. He ends on a flashy move and the crowd erupts in hoots and whistles. The
other dancers of the night step out and give flirty winks and kisses before they all step off the
stage.

Zoro follows them back into the dressing room. Doesn't take the makeup on his face off, but he
does use a few wipes to get the concealer and highlight off the scars on his legs and arms.

There's a loud chatter among the dancers that fills the small room to its corners. The girl from
earlier says something to him with a wide smile that he can't hear so he just hopes she's not making
fun of him and sends her a small smile back. Thankfully no one else bothers him and he can finish
wiping the makeup off. Once his body is all cleaned he grabs the baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants
he had left on the floor earlier and slips them on. They're a little less baggy than he was hoping, he
must've bulked up a lot these past few days. In all, it's good enough though and he doesn't feel too
uncomfortable when he steps out of the dressing room and makes his way to the club floor,
clutching the tip money he collected in his sweatshirt pocket. It's packed today and he has to weave
through people to get behind the bar. One of the regular bartenders, Mr. 2 Bon Clay, is working
tonight. He excites at seeing Zoro and starts talking rapidly about some cute group of people he
saw earlier.

"Good, good," he sneaks past him to grab his keys from behind the register. "Right back."

"Bye, Zoro." Mr. 2 stretches the 'o' in his name out and does a twirl as he serves a woman her
cocktail.

He unlocks the office which is thankfully empty and places his tip money, locking the door behind
him to step back into the club. There's the start of a line to the bathrooms and- is that Bepo?

It is, and the polar bear-dressed man sees him at the exact same time, almost trampling over people
as he runs up to him. "You were great Zoro! That was so awesome!" He's hopping up and down
and he grabs Zoro's shoulders and shakes him back and forth.

"Bepo," he greets.

"Go easy on him." A familiar voice says.

Zoro peeks over the man's white fur shoulder to see Law approaching. His eyes crinkle in a smile at
seeing the tall man. "Law!"

"Hi, Zoro-ya." The man sets a hand on Zoro's shoulder where Bepo has just let go and squeezes.

"I was just telling Zoro how good he was up there!" Bepo exclaims.

Law hums at Zoro's side. Hesitantly he rests his arm on Zoro's thick hip. Zoro grabs the tattooed
arm and places it more firmly. He doesn't miss the small grin that Law tries to hide. "You were
great," Law agrees. His fingers wrap around Zoro's waist. Closer to him he whispers, "Fucking
sexy, honestly." His breath tickles his ear. Zoro flushes under the club lights.

"L-"

"Law!" A new- also familiar- voice whines. "It's so crowded in there. Why'd you leave me by
myself?" Sanji steps toward the man, leg raised as though ready to kick. He lowers it upon seeing
Zoro. A high blush dusts his face, "O-oh Roronoa. It's good to see you."
"Yeah, you definitely saw him earlier too." Law says, teasing and smug at the same time.

Bepo must see the look of confusion on Zoro's face and he quickly explains, "We were watching
the strip show and when you came out both these guys went a little crazy. Sanji's nose started
bleeding when you did that one move, so Law went with him to the bathroom to clean up!"

"Bepo!" Sanji slaps his shoulder, simultaneously covering his tomato-red face with his other hand.

"What, that's what happened! Not my fault you can't control your horny. Anyway that's why I gave
you a lot, it was from all of us!"

He's still shocked. Blondie got a nosebleed? From me? He stares unblinking at Bepo for a moment
before regaining himself. "Thanks."

The polar bear beams.

"So ... Liked it?" He addresses Blondie who still has a hand over his face.

"I-" He shoots Zoro a look like he's not sure if he's being messed with right now. "Yeah. It was ...
really good." His voice is slightly hoarse. Damn he looks like he could use a good jerk off.

"I didn't know you were a stripper."

Zoro tilts his head up to Law and shrugs, "Sometimes."

"Y'know, Roronoa, if you're ever up there again just ... you could- y'know let me know. Be happy
to come and watch that again." Blondie says, speaking his mind even with embarrasment staining
his expression.

He's cute. Zoro nods.

Law's hand tightens around his waist. "Hey, why don't you guys go grab some drinks to end the
night?" He asks to Bepo and Blondie. The both stare at him for a second, though with different
expressions. Bepo's a knowing smirk. Blondie's a reluctant scowl.

"Fine." He bites out, face back to its natural color.

"Have fun!" Bepo is the complete opposite and he skips away, dragging Blondie with him.

Zoro looks up questioningly, obviously recognizing the man's attempt to get them alone. Though
alone is not the best word with people brushing past them every other second.

"Zoro-ya." His voice is deep. The man's hands are on his shoulders, then, and he's turning him until
they're facing each other. Zoro looks up, focuses somewhere around his pale pink lips. They part
around unexpected words. "What would it take for you to come to my place?"

"Oh." Not much at all. Not anything, if he's being completely honest. I'm about the easiest lay
ever. Not to mention that Law is incredibly kind and handsome with a large package that Zoro
remembers all too well. "Nothing," he says honestly. Then ignores the urge to kiss the man in favor
of tacking on, "Tired though."

"No worries. Are you working tomorrow?"

He's actually not, Miss Doublefinger told him this morning he could have the day off since they're
gonna have extra staff. Uncaring if his expression is too eager, he shakes his head.
"Would you like to come over in the evening, after I finish my shift?" Thin, but strong hands pull
Zoro flush to the man's body. Fuck, yeah. He nods. Law's cock is hard in his pants and it presses
into Zoro's thigh. "See what you did to me?"

"Just watching?" He grinds up against it only in the slightest.

"Just from watching you."

Zoro hums, gets pulled into a kiss. It's shorter than he expects- or wants. "Time tomorrow?"

"Anytime after 7:30 should be good. I finish at 7. Or at least I'm supposed to."

Wait, fuck. "No ride. Far?"

"You don't drive?"

He shakes his head.

"Oh." He thinks on it for a moment. "I can just pick you up on my way home," he offers. "Though
it's not too far of a walk from here if that's what you're more comfortable with- probably like 20 or
30 minutes."

"Bother?"

"No, no. I don't mind at all."

"Pick up?"

"Is that easier for you?"

He nods.

"Alright, perfect. You still have my number?"

Fuck, that's right, he gave it to me the first time we met. He shakes his head.

"You got your phone?"

"No." He says, hoping Law will just think it's not on him right now. He doesn't actually have a
personal phone, Crocodile has never got him one and he's never asked. Normally if he ever needs
to put his number down for something he just gives the bar's landline.

"Okay, I'll write it down for you in a minute once I get something to write with," he starts looking
around and Zoro stops him.

"Remember."

Law tilts his head. "You'll ... remember?"

He nods.

"Oh," and he rattles off his phone number, "anyway just call me tomorrow after I get off and I'll let
you know what time I'll be around to get you. Sound good?"

Zoro leans up and kisses him in response.

Law's breath hitches against Zoro's mouth. He can feel the man struggling to not deepen the kiss.
 After a short time they break apart. "Tomorrow, then?"

Zoro smiles easy. "Tomorrow, then."

Chapter End Notes

*sigh*

hope u enjoyed, lmk what u thought !

i barely checked this over before posted so pls lmk if anything seems out of order or if
somethings up

also yall will find out wtf is going on with crocodile in the next chpt along w more law
ofcc
 cant you see the smile on my face (cant you see my chest bleeding?)
Chapter Summary

zoro is back to fighting

ft. a massage, some emotional time w everyones fav surgeon, and a man in disguise

Chapter Notes

disclaimer- they dont fuck, sorry to disappoint guys, but zoro is great at comfort even
though he dont talk much

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He definitely doesn't count down the hours until 7 the next day. Sir still isn't back today so he has
to ask Miss Doublefinger for permission. She says Sir won't be back tomorrow either and that he
can go and even spend the night as long as he's back for his shift tomorrow evening.

He didn't do much today, went jogging in the morning and then made some food and just trained a
little at the apartment while watching old famous fights on the tv.

Now he's bouncing up and down on his toes, waiting in the club's office next to the phone. It's
around 7:30. He picks up the landline before he can psych himself out. Punches in Law's number
which he's had running through his mind on a loop since last night.

The line rings out a few times.

One more ring and it'll go to voicemail.

Maybe I put a number wrong? No, no I memorized it. He's sure he remembered them correctly.

Another ri-

"Hello?"

He breathes out, relieved, then chastises himself for being dramatic. "Law?"

The man's voice sounds slightly different over the phone. "Mm, who's this?" He sounds tired.

"I- Zoro."

There's a pause. Fuck, maybe he forgot.

"From- we ... last night-"

"Right, right. At your bar, I'm sorry. Long day at work, feels like I'm somewhere else right now."
At least he remembers. "I didn't forget, it just slipped my mind, Zoro-ya." He confirms.

"Oh. Okay."

"Though, forgive me, I don't exactly remember when or what we agreed to last night- I had a few
drinks. I just remembered this morning that you were gonna call me later. Could you remind me?"

Fuck. "Yeah, uh ..." Stop it, it's not embarrassing. He forgot, just tell him. You've been waiting all
day for this excited like a goddamn kid. "Was for ..."

"Yes?"

"Today."

Silence.

Fuck, don't be stupid. Today? Really? Be any more vague, please.

Law chuckles after a moment. "Today, okay. What did we agree to, to do today?"

"For ..." fuck it, "to see me. Your place."

Another pause, and damn does Zoro wish they were in person for this. Screw phone calls. At least
in person he could take in the man's body language. Use the curve of his lips to tell what he's
thinking. Maybe he just said that last night cause he was horny and buzzed.

Oh well, if he doesn't want to do anything anymore it's not a big deal anyway.

Yeah, you tell yourself that. Dumbass.

"And would I just be seeing you, today at my place?"

"I-" Zoro starts, confused. He's teasing. Oh. Oh. "No," he says carefully- honestly. "You could do
whatever you want with me."

Law's voice goes deep, "I do like the sound of that." Then, lighter, he hums. "And I don't mean to
break a promise but I am very tired and my back is killing me. Maybe we should do it another
time? I wouldn't be at my best for you."

Zoro thinks on it for a second. "We don't just have to do that."

"Oh?" And there's that teasing tone again. "And what would you propose we do instead?"

Anything. Nothing. We could just sit together and I think I'd be good, he wants to say. But that
seems too broad and too bold for a man he's only met three times and given head to once, so he
says instead, "I'm good at massages."

"Well I suppose that works out well- I am in desperate need of one."

He gets the distinct sense he's being played with, but it doesn't feel mean so he goes with it.

"I'm about twenty minutes from my apartment which means ten minutes from your bar, is that
where you're at right now?"
"Yes."

"I remember you saying you'd need a ride right? I can be there in a little and we can order some
food once we get to my place?"

Zoro hums. His mind drifts to upstairs, thinks to where the pot of food he made for dinner sits idle
on the stove. "Made nikujaga." He offers.

"What's that?"

"Oh, uh ... meat potato stew."

"A meat-potato?"

"No, uh and- beef and potato stew." His face feels warm. "Still hot."

"Is it?"

He hums.

"That certainly sounds better than greasy fast food. I don't want to bother you though."

"Not. Promise." Just needa go upstairs and grab it.

"If you say so." The car continues making loud rumbling noises in the background. "I'll be there in
a few minutes."

Law gushes about the food. His warm reaction as he empties his third bowl has Zoro beaming on
the inside. He cleans up and washes the dishes they used despite Law's insistence to just leave
them.

They watch tv for a little on Law's couch. It's soft and just as nice as the rest of the place. He has a
sizeable apartment that is well furnished with beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Massage, now?" He asks, when he catches Law rolling his shoulders.

He sighs and tilts his neck to the side to crack it. "Yeah," huffs out a tired laugh. "That would be
great."

"Lotion."

"I'll grab you some." He stands up and stretches his arms above his head. His shirt rides up a little
over a tan stomach.

"Shirt." He points at the offending item.

He's got that look in his eyes now and he fakes a gasp. "Zoro-ya. Are you asking me to strip?"
He turns his face away, stained in embarrassment. "Maybe," he mumbles.

Law chuckles. "You're adorable. It's so fun to mess with you," he reaches for the collar of his tee
and pulls it off.

"Not funny." He says seriously. Though it's probably impossible for Law to take him that way with
the tips of his ears dusted pink.

"My apologies, Zoro-ya." But his tone is still playful.

"S'okay. Did ... want you to strip, anyway."

He smiles, "I knew it." Stretches his arms above his head again and Zoro just stares. "Ready?"

He nods.

"Would you have me on the bed, Zoro-ya?" He turns and starts walking away.

Zoro's eyes trail down the lean muscles of his tattooed back to the thin, jean-clad hips. He's sure
his face is burning.

"Y-yeah," he finally manages to get out. Stumbles only a step in his haste to follow the other man.
"Wherever."

The bedroom is nice. It looks expensive- all sleek furniture and modern colors. And fuck those
sheets look comfy. The bed is unmade and the room looks well lived in- papers strewn about the
desk in the corner, a set of clothes hanging off the chair. He definitely does not get distracted by
Law handing him a bottle of lotion before spreading out, face-down on the bed. "Enjoying the
view?" He says, cheekily.

Zoro snaps himself out of it and climbs onto the bed. "Pretty. Can I?" He hovers just over Law.

"W-whatever makes it easier."

He lowers himself down, straddling those thin hips.

"Go ahead."

The lotion has a soft, clean scent, and he pumps a generous amount onto his hands. Spreads it over
Law's back. It gives a good amount of slide and once his whole back is moisturized Zoro starts to
apply pressure. He starts at the bottom of his back and uses his palms to push the tension up and
outwards toward his shoulders. Law relaxes quickly under his hands. After a couple minutes he
switches to using his thumbs, sweeping circles into his skin one after the other to get the tension
and knots out. Zoro gets out a particularly hard knot and Law breathes a low moan. "Fuck, you are
good at this."

He hums, mesmerized at the way the inked skin shifts under his hands.

"Pretty," he says again. Delights at the way Law's neck flushes a dark red. "Means what?" He taps
the center of the large smiley face shaped tattoo, then the heart shaped one on his shoulder.

"Those, uh ..." Zoro feels him swallow hard. "They don't really mean anything- well I mean, they
do, but not like that I ... I got them to honor someone."

Zoro hums.
"My dad, actually. My foster dad."

He doesn't think he's ever heard Law sound so flustered. Like the last thing he was expecting was
for Zoro to ask about them. He hums again, tries to keep things light and open if Law wants to
offer up any more information.

Law breaks under the comfortable silence. "He died a few years ago. I ... got these a little after
that." He buries his head further into the mattress.

"Talk about it?" Because even though it happened a few years ago it seems like a topic that still
weighs heavy on him.

There's a few seconds pause, the only sound to be heard Zoro's hands rubbing a path up and down
his skin. "Yeah ..." He says, unsure. Then, "Yeah, I can talk about it," more confidently. "It might
be a lot."

"I'm listening." He squeezes the man's traps in a soft, reassuring gesture.

After a minute Law opens up. He tells Zoro about his given family, and the real one he made with
Corazon- his foster dad. Tells Zoro about the shit they went through and how he was always there
for him. Tells Zoro about the problems he had with his dad's brother. Zoro grabs his hand and
holds it tight when he tells him about his father's death. Only continues the massage after Law's
tone brightens and he talks about the friends he has now- his newest family- and how their support
has helped him. It leads into a tirade about how they can care too much sometimes but at that point
his words have started slowing and his breaths deepening. Zoro is just starting to feel the massage
in his forearms when Law's voice trails off on a tired, fond complaint about Luffy. His breath is
even and slow.

He fell asleep.

He rubs one last circle onto his back before carefully climbing off him and tucking him under the
blanket.

So cute.

He's just having a late-night snack a few days later when the front door bangs open. Zoro jumps to
his feet in a fighting stance. Waits to see who the hell is busting down the door at 3 am.

It's Crocodile that stumbles in.

He takes a few steps into the apartment and slams the door behind him, muttering a string of curses
under his breath. Zoro rushes toward him. Slings the man's arm over his shoulder and helps him
walk to the bedroom. At the contact, Crocodile relaxes a little, lets Zoro half-carry him to bed. "My
angel," he says dazedly as Zoro sits him down on the mattress and starts undressing him.

"Sir, okay?"

He's obviously halfway to piss drunk and upset about something big. It's been almost two weeks
since Zoro saw him last.

"No, I'm not fuckin-" He sways dangerously at the edge of the bed. "Goddamn two-faced sonofa
..." And he's back to hissing out curses.

Who's he so upset at?

There's a small sheet of gauze taped to his side. "Sir?" He rests his hand over the bandage.

He curses some more and shakes his head. "Thought he could gut me, the bitch."

What the fuck. Zoro nods, peeling off the gauze just slightly. There's a small slash underneath that's
been neatly stitched up. It's not bleeding so Zoro puts it back in place and finishes stripping
Crocodile of his shirt, shoes, and pants. He helps the drunk man into a pair of soft pajamas. He
wants to ask him where he's been and what happened and who's he so pissed at but he's not sure
exactly how he'll react and he's not sure he wants to find out. At the same time he knows that in the
morning Crocodile is sure to be more tight-lipped and probably won't tell him a thing.

Fuck it. "Happened, Sir?"

"What happened?" He sways on his feet as he asks, incredulous, "What happened? Shit went south,
tha's what happened." He gestures jerkily with his hands. "Bastard ... goddamn hawkeyes double-
crossed us. Tried taking me out. Thought the property transfer was holdin us back turns out ... he's
just a little snake- piece'a shit was stallin for a hit."

Shit.

Shit. Mihawk tried to kill him? So any expanding plans are out the window. Fuck. He's been
looking forward to this for a long time.

"Two weeks?"

He puffs out a hot breath. "Hadda lay low for a few days after. Daz called the all clear earlier
tonight." He collapses forward into Zoro's chest. Zoro holds him up easily, wraps his arms around
the man's shuddering body.

"Needa find someone else. Open the new place, need ta ... Can't trust nobody, angel. Only got you
an' Daz." He squeezes around him and buries his head into Zoro's neck.

"Have you," he reassures. Stepping backward with Crocodile in his arms until they're back next to
the bed. Crocodile pushes him to lay down and then flops onto him. Zoro is more than used to the
weight. Sir's breath reeks of whiskey. He slips his hand under Zoro's shirt and almost claws at the
diagonal wound on his chest. Though it's now fully closed, the nails raking against it making him
tense in surprise. "I let him hurt you."

There's a genuine pain in his voice. Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

"Backstabbing bastard an' I let 'im slice you up. My angel." Sir sinks his nails into the supple skin
above his heart.

"Right here, Sir. 'M okay," he rubs soothing circles onto Sir's back.

He bites at Zoro's neck. "All I got, angel. Only got you."

"I'm here."

Sir nods against his chest, hand still fingering the ugly wound. "My angel," his breath evens. "My
..." And he's out.

The bell dings and they break apart.

Fuck, he's fast.

The man whose name Zoro already forgot but has a long nose like Usopp- except it's square- walks
to his side of the cage, clutching a bleeding head. His defense left for a lot of openings and Zoro
was able to get a few good shots in- one of them being a head kick that opened a large gash above
the man's eyebrow.

It's the end of the first round.

Zoro refuses the stool offered to him, bouncing on his feet and staring the man down from across
the red-stained canvas as he paces back and forth. He's hyped up on adrenaline and feels on top of
the world. He can't believe he missed out on this for so long.

That was my round, he tells him with his stare, and he fights through the itch at looking someone in
the eyes so long. The man meets his gaze though it wavers slightly as his corner talks him up, gives
him water. Zoro's corner is empty. He knows Crocodile is out in one of the closer seats, observing.

His breathing has just barely ticked up from the beginning. There's a couple fights left on the card
tonight, so their bout is only three rounds. Zoro's about to finish it this next one.

Zoro has gained some weight the past month before the bout. He feels ... fluffier, now. Muscled
arms and chest less defined than usual but much larger. His legs too, probably classifiable as tree
trunks with how thick they've gotten. He knows from experience that weight isn't everything, but
he also knows that while he's bigger now he hasn't lost his quickness and he's easily able to take
this guy. Square-nose is thin- makes up for it in his height- and probably just at the lower cutoff for
a heavyweight. Sure, the man is good at weaving, with a dangerous right overhand, but towards the
end he stumbled from another of Zoro's leg kicks.
He knows he's going down this round.

It's Zoro's first bout since getting back to fighting. His first bout since getting hurt over a month
ago. There's no way he's losing it.

Clappers sound and the other corner cleans everything up, gives the man a last few words and then
the ref is stepping forward again and they're at it.

If last round was a whirlwind, this one is much slower. The man seems gassed already. As he
counters a sharply thrown 1-2, he doesn't know whether the other man is fatigued or if he's trying
to save his energy for the last round. Zoro won't let it get to that.

For about a minute they exchange blows in bursts, most of Zoro's landing, most of the other man's
just missing. It's automatic for Zoro to block and weave the wide thrown hits and he puts no
thought into it, focuses instead on looking for an opening. Then he sees it when he throws a cross
and the man's defensive hands leave him open from under.

He snaps hard kicks down onto the man's left shin. Square-nose stumbles under the first. Almost
crumbles under the second. His leg is swollen already from the abuse Zoro gave it in the first
round, and he doesn't let the man recover- throws a fake cross. The man goes to defend. Zoro
explodes through a hidden left uppercut that connects strong right under the man's chin. His head
snaps back. He stutters a single step back before his body follows it and he collapses on the
canvas. He's out. Zoro lunges to finish it just in case. The ref rips him away before he can.

The roar of the crowd is deafening for a moment. They love bloodshed. Love knockouts even
more.

The ref calls over the backdoor medic when the man stays unmoving on the ground. Zoro walks
back to his corner. There's a buzzing just under his skin.

I missed this.

Energy pounds through his veins that needs to be let out. His blood feels hot. You did it, you're
back. He takes some deep breaths, centers himself. Lets the adrenaline flow out of him in every
breath. The man has just started to stir from the floor.

He looks out between the lines of the cage, spots Crocodile still sitting at his reserved table. There's
someone next to him now and Sir raises his drink in Zoro's direction.

Zoro bows his head slightly and smiles something dangerous.

They've got the man on his feet when he turns back to the action. He knows how this place runs,
they like to keep everything in between the bouts short and sweet. The announcer is saying
something or other, but all he knows is when the referee holds up his arm, he feels at peace. He
gives square-nose a quick 'good job' before they both walk out of the cage, the man with his team
behind him and Zoro by himself. He glances over at Crocodile to try and catch his attention but he
is in deep conversation with the white-haired person next to him so Zoro figures it's alright to clean
up and change. He follows square-nose's team to the makeshift locker room away from the action
and grabs his gym bag where he had left it earlier.

He shucks off his 4 oz gloves and then unwraps the wraps underneath. Shoves his legs into loose
black sweatpants and throws a dark hoodie over his head. He takes the midnight blue bandana he
had buried in the bag before the bout and ties it around his head.

He takes a moment to breathe. Thoughts of Kuina steady as always. She's not here but he basks in
the win with her anyway. Eventually he takes the bandana off again and ties it back around his
arm. Lacing up his shoes, he zips his bag up and makes his way to the main area where a Muay
Thai bout is now taking place. The crowd oohs at every elbow that lands and boos at every clinch.
He weaves between drunk men and women.

Before the bout today, he thinks he's probably thanked Crocodile over a hundred times for finally
letting him fight again. Still, he drops to his knees when he reaches the Sir's table. Bows his head
to show his gratitude.

Crocodile pats his sweaty hair, then lifts his chin up. "Head up, angel. You won."

There's a warmth in his chest.

"Thank you, Sir." And he hopes Sir understands the full depth behind his words. His soft eyes
indicate that he does.

"Yeah, you fought good," a familiar voice says.

Zoro looks over, places the voice with the person that's been sitting next to Crocodile.

Smoker?

His hair is different, dyed white instead of its usual mint green and a new scar through the right
side of his face. But his eyes are the same red-brown that Zoro knows. He hasn't seen the man in
months since he stopped going to the gym and now he's here? Talking to Crocodile? There's a look
on Smoker's face that speaks of unfamiliarity. I haven't changed since I saw him last, why is he
acting like he doesn't know me?

"Angel," Crocodile catches his attention back, "this is Chaser. He owns some establishments over
in Sin City. Chaser, this is Roronoa Zoro."

"Nice to meet you."

Chaser? I thought ... No, that's definitely Smoker, I- What the fuck is going on here.

Smoker puffs through the cigar in his mouth.

Fuck it, be respectful. "Sir," he nods at Crocodile, "Mr. Chaser," a nod at Smoker.

"He's here on business with me, so you might be seeing him more often the next couple weeks."

Business? With Crocodile? He's a cop- he doesn't own any goddamn establishments. What the hell
business is he doing here and under a different name? It hasn't even been more than a few weeks
since Sir's shit went wrong with Mihawk. "Yes, Sir."

Crocodile gestures for him to stand. He does. "We'll be having dinner tomorrow night at our usual
place while we discuss details of our arrangement. However, Chaser here has taken an ... interest ...
in you, so I'd like for you to be there."

Zoro nods. Of course. Not like no is an option.

But then maybe this really isn't Smoker, just a guy that looks like him. I offered to fuck Smoker
when he first started sparring with me a few years ago and he has always refused- so if this was
Smoker he wouldn't be changing his mind to be interested so all of a sudden. And anyway this guy
doesn't look like he knows me at all.
Just gotta give him a good time, I guess.

His wrist gets grabbed by Sir's hand. He pulls him down to his face. "Someone should be outside
to take you home. Don't expect me early tonight," he whispers, voice rough, before he releases
him.

He acknowledges them both with a downward tilt of his head before turning on his heel.

The floor is freshly buffed hardwood.

It's firm under Zoro's knees.

This is the restaurant Crocodile normally uses when he's in town and meeting someone important.
It's a small, family-style Italian place a few blocks away from the club. Zoro knows he's extremely
close with the owner and Sir has helped him out a lot with the place which is why the guy lets him
use it after hours. He's never gotten confirmation but he's also pretty sure the restaurant is a front
for Sir's under-the-table business.

The others have just finished dinner. Something with steak, Tagliata, he thinks. He didn't get a
plate. Has barely raised his head the whole time from where he's kneeling on the floor next to
Crocodile's chair. Chaser sits across from them. Daz is seated in the middle, though a tad closer to
Crocodile's side.

A man brings out dessert and a fresh tray of cigars for the them.

Crocodile asks Chaser a question.

"Just a small percentage. I was thinking 10," Chaser says, lighting his cigar. "I know your deal with
Hawkeyes didn't go as planned." At that, Zoro looks up. Crocodile's hand tightens almost
imperceptibly and his next words are carefully bitten out.

"Yes, there were some ... complications."

Chaser hums, a sly smile on his face. "Complications meaning someone got killed ... if what I hear
is correct."

What? There was a hit out on him but Sir didn't say anything about that- didn't say anything about
someone getting killed.

Daz shifts, "Rumors."

"Regardless," Chaser waves his hand. It blows some of the smoke towards Zoro's face and he
wrinkles his nose. "I know you need someone with influence to open your new place. I'm offering
you that and more."
"And remind me again what you get out of this?" Daz says.

"Simple. I get a percent of all the earnings you make from the new location and the running that
goes on under it, and it helps me make a name for myself in another city."

"I'd like to finalize this in the next week. Our previous misfortune with Hawkeyes has placed us
slightly behind schedule from where I'd like to be."

"Of course, I can do that. Let me lay out for you again what I'm offering that way we're all on the
same page."

Crocodile gestures for him to go ahead.

"I'm providing you my connections for you to expand your contraband routes." Zoro forces himself
to pay attention despite not understanding the man's words. "Also my support and influence to open
your new business in the desired area. I'll personally help watch over one of your existing locations
until everything is well enough established and then I'll back off and just collect my cut."

Crocodile bites into his dessert. He hums thoughtfully. "You came well prepared, Chaser. I enjoy
doing business with a man that knows what he wants and what he has to offer." He puffs on his
cigar. "How can I ensure your routes are secure?"

Daz gives Zoro a look and he instantly tunes back out. Ears closed- the message is loud and clear.

They talk for another 30 minutes. Daz- who has always been very perceptive- hasn't seemed to
notice anything off about the white-haired man which, to Zoro, means that he must've been wrong
and this man really is who he says he is and not Zoro's old sparring partner.

There's a firm hand on his shoulder.

Crocodile's voice rumbles through him a second later. "Chaser will be taking you back to his hotel
for the night." Right. Chaser, hotel, sex. Then, closer to his ear. "Don't have too much fun without
me, angel."

He vaguely registers Sir's eyes on him but all he can do is look up at Chaser who is towering over
him. He offers him his hand. Zoro takes it and stands gracefully despite the ache in his knees and
the soreness in his sleeping legs from kneeling for the better part of an hour.

"Have a good night, I'll be seeing you," Chaser says goodbye to Sir and Daz and then leads him out
the door.

The man might be saying something to him but as he gets in the car he shifts into another
headspace. The headspace expected of him by Crocodile. The headspace that'll allow him to get
through tonight. Just do as you're told and pleasure him. It's not too often that he has to use it- he
doesn't have to anymore when he's working the back rooms- but whenever Crocodile is doing
relations with someone that swings that way it goes just like this. Business dinner, hotel, sex. So
the mindset helps him disconnect so that he can wake up the next morning without the urge to rip
his own throat out. He slips into it easily.

Whatever happens tonight has nothing to do with me. Just get through it.

The car ride is long. The man is still talking. After the first five minutes Zoro stops trying to figure
out where they're going. It has started to rain. Drops slide down the windshield, scattering the red
and green of the street lights. He thinks there might be music playing and the man's voice is a
steady pitch though the words are muffled. He loses track of time with every back-forth of the
windshield wipers.

A hand rests on Zoro's thigh.

Wait, not just any man. You're too deep. Don't forget, this is-

No. It's not him, remember? Anyway, doesn't matter who it is. He wants to use you like all the rest.
Doesn't matter.

Just get through tonight.

The man's hand taps his leg. His voice is more insistent now, and Zoro realizes the car is stopped
in front of a hotel.

He wants you to get out.

Right.

Zoro nods at whatever the man says and opens the passenger door. He closes it gently. The rain
feels nice on his skin. It slowly seeps into his clothes as the man gets out of the car and locks it. He
looks at Zoro with strange eyes. He says something and Zoro follows behind him as they walk into
the hotel and go up the elevator to the man's room.

Once inside, the man strips of his white overcoat, takes a cigar and lighter out of his pocket. He
sighs. "Be right back." He opens the balcony door and steps out onto it. The balcony looks dry
despite the rain still coming down and the man starts puffing on his cigar. Zoro takes the hint for
what it is- be ready when he comes back. Zoro unbuttons his shirt and pants, quickly folding them
and setting them to the side. His black boxers stay on and he finds his place on the middle of the
mattress, easily presenting onto his knees with his hands crossed behind his back.

The hotel room is one of the nicer ones he's been in. The mattress is soft where he's kneeling.
Though the heat must be off and distantly he feels goosebumps raise over his exposed skin.

Just be good. That's all Sir wants you to do.

But that's all he wanted me to do with Mas- Mihawk too, and look where that got me.

You're gonna be fine. Don't think about it.

He's about to sink deeper into his dissociative state when he hears the balcony door open again.

"Zoro, what are-" The man trails off and Zoro resists the urge to look up at him. He keeps his chin
tucked down, waits for the man to approach him.

He doesn't.

"I thought I explained to you in the car, we're not actually gonna do anything together?"

In the car? No, I wasn't listening then but that's ... that's not right. Can't be.

The man stays frozen by the balcony door. "Zoro?"

Sir won't like it if we don't do anything. "'M good, Mister. Please."

After a moment he takes a few steps forward. Zoro breathes a small sigh of relief. Instinctively
spreads his legs- widening his kneel- and tilts his head to the side to expose his neck.

Rough fingers brush over the ugly, pink, raised skin of his long chest scar. Zoro's hands clench into
fists where he holds them still behind his back. Relax. And he opens his fists. The man is standing
right next to the bed. "What happened to you?" He sits on the mattress, legs hanging over the side.

Is this some weird type of foreplay- pretending to care?

I am not doing this. Just get it over with.

He shakes his head in response to the question. "Nothing. I- How ..." Speak, dumbass. You're
flirting, you can talk. It's fine. "How do you want me, Mister?"

The man's hand drops from Zoro's scar to the mattress almost instantly. "Zoro." He sighs, muffs
his hair. "You weren't listening to me in the car, were you? When I explained everything?"

He keeps his back wide and straight. Shakes his head. No I wasn't fucking listening.

And if it's some rules for bdsm shit he was talking about in the car that he wants to pull, I definitely
don't need an explanation for that. Wouldn't be the first time, not gonna be the last.

"Listen, you're not with me I can tell."

He forces himself to focus on the words coming out of the man's mouth. Listen. He just wants you
to listen right now. One step at a time.

"Good, thank you. Zoro, I'm not here for you like that. I'm here to help." His muddy-red eyes hold
a certain sadness. "It's me, Smoker. You remember at the gym, when we used to spar together?"

Smoker, smoker, smoker. The name bounces around in his head for about a minute before it finally
sticks.

Oh fuck. Smoker.

He lied?

And just like that he gets thrown out of his headspace. The sudden change makes his head spin.

"Chaser," he stutters out. "Chaser, you said."

"I know, I know I said that. It was all an act. Chaser is just who I'm pretending to be. I'm
undercover."

Under cover. Zoro glances at the blanket under him. Back at Chas- Smoker. He's not under the
covers. "Not."

A sigh. "That's not what I ... I mean I'm trying to get in with Crocodile. So I'm acting like someone
else right now. That someone is named 'Chaser' but I'm no different from the man you know."

I can't tell if he's lying. Fuck. But when I saw him yesterday after the bout I thought he was Smoker
and my instincts are normally alright. So he's just ... pretending?
"Told me. Why?"

"Because I trust you, Zoro. And I want to help you. Ever since I saw you in the gym the first time
two years ago I've wanted to help you. But men like Crocodile are dangerous so we had to be
careful in our planning. I'm telling you so that you can help me to help you."

"Don't need."

"Don't need what?"

"Help."

"Zoro."

"Don't."

"He hurts you Zoro, I know it. I've seen it. The police have been trying to get him for a while now
but he's slippery. He runs a hell of a tangle of illegal businesses and we gotta book him on all of
them if we wanna take him down for good."

Something in his chest hurts.

They want to take down Crocodile. They want to ... I'd be free.

But what about everything he's done for me? No. I can't be a part of this, not after everything. I'll
just have to stick to escaping. If I escape I don't have to hurt him, he doesn't have to go away- only I
do.

"No."

He suddenly realizes he's naked except his boxers, still kneeling in front of the white-haired man.
He can't find it in himself to move.

"Zoro," Smoker says, and he traces the scar on his chest once more, "you can't go on like this."

"'M fine." His tone is firm. The protest behind it is weaker. Because he knows Smoker has seen so
much. Knows so much from over the years at the gym. His limp has never been easy to hide. And
excuses about getting into fights only went so far when he came in bruised day after day. He never
has been bare in front of the man like this before but he's sure his heavily scarred face and forearms
were more than enough to paint a certain impression.

Now, exposed here, he can't help but feel that the pain of his years is on prime display.

"Relax, Zoro." He takes Zoro's arms in his own, pulls them out from behind his back. "I'm not here
to hurt you remember?"

He nods after a moment.

"Let me at least get you your clothes then," he stands up and Zoro stops him with a hand on his hip.
Smoker looks down at his hand, then up at him, a question in his eyes.
"No."

Just in case he changes his mind and wants to use me later, I should at least be mostly ready to go-
it's what Sir would expect. Fuck, Sir. How am I supposed to tell him Smoker wasn't actually
interested? Wait, I can't even tell him that Smoker is Smoker, can I?

Oh fuck this.

"Okay. Maybe you should try and get some rest. It's late."

He looks pointedly at Smoker's crotch.

Smoker seems to get the hint. "I promise I don't want that from you. Now go on." He lifts the
covers and Zoro obeys, body heavy as he gets under them. "I'm sorry there's only one bed, I didn't
want to rouse any suspicion if I booked another room for you just in case one of Crocodile's men
followed me here." Smoker takes off his shoes but nothing else and follows him under, keeping
himself on the opposite side of the bed. "Good night, Zoro."

"Night," he mumbles back after a minute.

He stares up at the ceiling as Smoker shifts under the blanket. Smoker is in his blindspot, laying as
he is to Zoro's left but he's having trouble sleeping, Zoro can tell. Maybe he has his eyes closed, but
his breathing is too uneven and quick for him to be asleep. After five minutes it's more of the same
and after ten he decides to look. He turns his head to see Smoker's eyes open and focused- or rather,
unfocused- on the wall to Zoro's right.

Zoro turns his head back to the ceiling. He definitely needs to relax. "You sure you don't wanna
fuck?"

Smoker splutters for a second. Zoro can hear the second it takes to compose himself, "No. Go to
sleep."

Zoro hums. Then decides to speak his mind. "Went away. No one ... gym. Spar."

"I know, I'm sorry."

He reaches his left arm over and rests it on Smoker's pillow. A second later it's being held by the
man's warm hand.

"Don't need me anyway," he chuckles. "Just look at your match yesterday, you did amazing, Zoro.
I'm proud of you."

He swallows the emotions in his throat. Musters out a 'thank you', and squeezes Smoker's hand
tight.

"I'm gonna get you out of this, Zoro. I'm gonna get you out."

He says nothing. Let's himself believe the words for one blissful minute. Then faces reality again
with a grimace.

No, no you won't. No one's gonna get me out. But that's okay. Because I will.

I will.
 .

Chapter End Notes

WHOA plot

croc is in some shit and okok smoker is such a cute dad figure, hes really trying his
best i love him

lmk what yall though of this chpt, a bit of a longer one and next chpt we're gonna have
luffy bc i miss him

also justrealized i didnt tag smoker as a character OR tagged that this fic has lots of
boxing/mma elements but hey ima leave it whatever, can you tell i miss fighting lol
 heat me up, love. run straight through my layers
Chapter Summary

a feel good chapter bc i needed one

ft. luffy being a softie who is actually more aware than u might think

(breakfast in bed, fighting, game night, and fireballs oh my)

Chapter Notes

not realllyyy a filler chpt but also kinda a filler chpt anyway enjoy ! as always if u see
any mistakes lmk

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Steam rolls out of the bathroom. He steps out, towel wrapped around his waist. Is met with an
empty room.

I wasn't more than fifteen minutes, where'd he go?

Oh well.

He walks over to the small, wooden bedside table and grabs the hotel phone. As he types in the
number he glances around the room to locate his clothes. They're where he left them last night. The
line rings twice before Crocodile picks up.

"Hello."

"Sir?"

"Hey, angel. All done?"

A hum.

"Is he gonna drop you off or you needa ride?"

"Gone."

"Oh? Where'd he go?"

He scoops his clothes off the floor phone balanced between his shoulder and ear. He makes an
uncertain sound. Smoker was here sleeping before I showered and when I finished he wasn't.
"No problem. I'll send someone, should be by you in thirty."

"Where?"

"Yeah, I know where, angel." He says casually, because he does always know where Zoro is. From
his many failed escape attempts he has figured out that Crocodile is tracking him somehow but he's
yet to find out how.

The line clicks right as the hotel door opens.

Zoro sets the phone down slowly as Smoker walks in, plate in hand. "Good morning," he greets,
not quite cheerful but almost.

He grunts a response.

"How'd you sleep?"

He avoids Smoker's eyes. "Didn't." He ignores the man's surprised inhale. "What do you mean you
didn't? You haven't slept all night?"

Zoro shrugs.

"What- what were you doing then?"

Nothing. Spacing out. Thinking about shit I shouldn't be thinking about. Another shrug.

"Fuck, Zoro, you-" He sighs.

He skips past the irritation in his voice. "Go?"

"What, you wanna leave?"

Zoro shakes his head, points to the man. "You went."

"Oh, oh. You're asking where'd I go." Zoro nods. "Well I woke up from the sound of the shower so
I went to make some calls and get us some breakfast." He holds up the styrofoam plate. "It's
complementary."

How is breakfast a compliment?

"Compliment?"

"No. Complementary." He sets the plate down on the bed. "It means no charge."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I didn't know what you'd like so I got a bit of everything. Did you wanna ... uh ... put
your clothes on?"

Zoro looks down at himself, naked save for the towel, still clutching his clothes in his left hand.
"Right, sorry."

"No, it's- don't worry about it."

Smoker turns away so he drops the towel and throws his clothes on.
"Who were you on the phone with?" He asks when Zoro sits next to him on the bed. The plate of
food between them has some waffles, eggs, and two blueberry muffins. He gestures for Zoro eat.

"Sir," he responds and picks up a waffle.

"'Sir'?" Smoker watches as Zoro bites straight into the waffle. "Oh, you mean Crocodile?"

He hums around the food in his mouth.

"Why do you call him 'Sir' anyway?"

What else would I call him?

"Uh ... nevermind." Smoker picks at the eggs. "So, you'll probably be seeing me more often around
the club. Once I get enough evidence and intel on his dealings then the rest of my team will come
busting down the doors, but I don't know when that's gonna be. I'm gonna try and be quick with it
though, get my information before Croc gets too settled in the new location. Regardless I'll be
checking in on you- as Chaser- and I'm gonna try and help you out the best I can without blowing
my cover."

He nods slowly, having mostly gotten the gist of his words.

"I'm not gonna ask you- except one thing- for much right now, cause I don't wanna put you at risk."

Just one thing? "Sure, what?"

"All I ask is that if he hurts you bad, Zoro- You come and you tell me and I'll get you the fuck
outta there, okay? Screw the case, screw everything. We'll find another way to take him down, but
I just want you to be safe, alright?"

His hands freeze in his lap.

Tell him when Sir hurts me bad? What does that even count as anymore?

Hurting me bad, huh. He thinks of the deep lines on his back. The circular burns on his arms and
torso. The ugly scar down his right leg. The ones around his ankles.

His fucking eye.

Hurting me bad? I'm still here, aren't I? I won't be able to tell him when Sir hurts me bad, cause if
it was actually bad, I'd be dead. "I'll try," he lies.

"Thank you."

They finish up the breakfast and Zoro gets ready to go downstairs and wait for his ride.

Smoker wraps him in a secure hug. "I'm gonna help you out. Just give me some time, Zoro. I got
you."

"Okay," he says. And he doesn't believe the words any more than he did yesterday but maybe, just
maybe, he can see what happens.
.

His next bout is a month after the first and goes about as well, if not better. He's up against a huge,
shorter guy who has got to be just under the top cap for heavyweights. The man is a heavy hitter
with a jaw of steel. Every punch Zoro lands to it just gets absorbed.

It's the third round out of five. I'm gonna go for another takedown. He's slow on the floor. Big but
slow, I know I can get him.

The first round Zoro did get a successful takedown but the man muscled himself back up before he
could get around for a submission attempt.

Even if it goes to decision I've got the win. One look at the man's eyes tells him he is thinking the
same thing. Fuck it, I'm not letting this go to decision.

Three claps sound.

Zoro's face and torso fucking ache from the heavy shots they've taken the first two rounds. He
jumps around a little to steady his bleeding legs.

The ref steps forward and starts it.

He lets the man advance on him, maneuvering out of the way from a snapping series of punches.
He counters with a few body shots.

The man is breathing heavy.

Zoro goes on the defense a little to let the man tire himself out with shots. Then the man goes for a
head kick and Zoro pounces on the opportunity. Grabs his ankle before he can drop it and shoves
him backward. On the one foot he's off balance and he falls, scrambling to get back up but Zoro's
already on him. He stays glue stuck to the man as he tries to shuck Zoro off.

He tries to stand up and Zoro only let's him get halfway before grabbing him behind the knee and
slamming him back down. In the fall the man tries to twist and Zoro feels a wide smile spread
across his face as he takes the man's exposed, half-turned back. Zoro spreads the man out on top of
him, arms already at his throat as he tries to do everything he can to get away. The man sends some
hard shots back to Zoro's head that mostly miss as he squirms around. Zoro's got his own legs
snaked around the man's, holding his lower half down and he eats a heavy swing of the man's fist
before securing his hold and squeezing- simultaneously stretching the man out and further into his
chokehold.

The tap doesn't come and for a split moment he wonders if the man is going to be too prideful to
do it. He goes limp in Zoro's arms before the ref can stop it. Fucking idiot. And Zoro instantly
releases the, now, unconscious man from the rear-naked choke and shoves him off.

He shoots to his feet as the crowd goes nuts. His whole body sings with energy. There's fire in his
veins. His smile widens further.

Fuck it's good to be back.

.

"It's open!" Is what's yelled past the door. Zoro tries the handle and it turns under his hand. Feeling
odd to just walk in but also having been given explicit permission to do so, he steps into the
doorway of the apartment, closing it behind him. There's no one in sight, though it sounded like
Blondie who yelled just a second ago. He takes his shoes off and sets his dessert tray down on the
kitchen counter. He stands awkwardly near the entrance.

A week ago- the day before his bout against that big guy- Blondie had come to the bar in search of
him. Said they were having a get together at his apartment and that Zoro had better be there. He
didn't object. He misses them honestly. It's been too long since he's seen all of them together.
Though it doesn't seem like there's anyone else here now.

He pulls at the high collar of his turtleneck uncomfortably. It's been getting colder outside as the
seasons change so he dressed warm today- a dark gray hoodie with a soft black denim jacket over
and some black sweatpants. That's not what's bothering him though. It's just that the black
turtleneck he has underneath everything feels too tight on his skin. It was necessary, because he
sure as hell doesn't want any questions if one of them were to see the possessive marks Sir left on
him from last night- not to mention the fading ones from his past week of working the back rooms.
But still, the material sits heavy on his neck. He drops his hand instantly when the door to
Blondie's room opens.

"Hey! Sorry, I just got out of the shower." Blondie comes walking out, a smile on his face. His hair
styled and dry despite his words.

"Blondie." He throws an arm over the man's shoulder, tries to ignore the look of shock on his face.

"What happened to you?"

Shit. He noticed. Though it would be hard not to.

Blondie's hand reaches up to touch his face hesitantly and Zoro lets him, keeping utterly still. The
man's soft fingers brush over the yellow bruising on the bridge of his nose the bleeds into a purple
line under his previously black eye. It's courtesy of his fight last week. A gift from the large man's
heavy fists. The swelling has completely went down and he's now just left with the deep colored
crescent-moon mark under his eye. It doesn't hurt anymore, just looks ugly, so while he
remembered to cover the marks on his neck this morning with the turtleneck, he completely forgot
about his face until he caught a glimpse of himself in a car window on the walk over here.

"Nothing," he says.

Blondie lowers his hand. "Roronoa."

He turns his face away. "Nothing."

The man sighs. "You're actually ridiculous, mosshead."

"Swirly-brows."
"I oughta kick your ass."

"Try it."

He laughs, "I would, but it looks like someone already beat me to it. Fuck, man." He shakes his
head and walks past Zoro toward the kitchen. Then notices the foil-covered tray. "Oh, what'd you
bring?"

Zoro trails behind him, glad to have the topic shifted. "Dango."

Blondie uncovers the foil and gasps, "I love this stuff! Did you make it?"

He nods. The smile on Blondie's face is nice.

"I haven't had this in so long! I love Japanese desserts so my old man used to bring some home
every so often, but after I moved I- it's been a minute. That's so nice of you." He squeezes Zoro's
arm excitedly. "I'll have to wait until everyone comes though to eat. They should be here soon,
anyway."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, Vivi said something came up though that she's trying to get out of, so she may or may not
show up."

"Anyone here?"

"Just me and Luffy. He's probably gaming in his room if you wanna go check on him while I finish
getting some snacks ready."

He nods, and walks down the hall to Luffy's room. He's only been in there a few times, since they
mostly just hang out in the living room. There's no answer when he knocks on the door. "Just walk
in. He's probably got his headphones on," Blondie shouts from the kitchen. He nods again and
opens it. Luffy is indeed gaming with his headphones on. Zoro watches as he jumps up and down
in his seat a little as he fights against someone with his character before his character on the screen
ultimately dies. Luffy slumps back in his seat with a groan. When he leans his head over the back
of his chair his eyes zero in on Zoro and he springs up, throwing his headphones off. "Roronoa!"
He runs and leaps at him and Zoro catches him easily. "I missed you." Luffy wraps around him like
a koala on its favorite branch. "You got bigger, can barely wrap around you." Zoro hugs him back,
lays his cheek on top of Luffy's messy head of hair. "Where've you- wait, I smell- FOOD!"

He goes to let him down so the man can run to the kitchen but Luffy just clutches on tighter.
"Carry me there?" He asks in a softer voice.

Zoro's cheeks heat. He nods against his hair. Turns them around and walks to the kitchen.

Blondie sighs upon seeing them. "Before you even ask- here." He steps around Zoro's back to put
what is presumably a snack in Luffy's mouth.

He feels the man swallow whatever it is right down. Does he even chew?

"Can I have another Sanji?"

"If I give you another you're just gonna keep asking and we need to have some food for when
Nami and Usopp come."
"Sanji," he whines, begging the man from over Zoro's shoulder.

He sighs again, "Fine. Fine, only one more." Luffy chomps down on the offered snack. "Thank
you," he says through a full mouth. He shifts a little in Zoro's arms. "I can get down now, if you
want."

Zoro shakes his head. "One sec." And he tightens his grip. It feels right to have the shorter man in
his arms, wrapped around him like this. Fuck I missed him. After a moment he loosens his hold a
little, walks forward a step and sets Luffy down on the kitchen counter. He tries to step back but
Luffy keeps his legs wrapped around Zoro's waist and he pulls him back in with heels at the small
of his back. "Missed you, Roronoa." He repeats, grips the fabric of Zoro's hoodie in two fists and
pulls him down. Zoro's eyes widen but Luffy doesn't go in for his lips- instead planting a soft kiss
to the exposed skin under his jaw. He melts under it, instinctively pressing closer to Luffy's
warmth. Another kiss and Zoro lets out a pleased hum.

"Me too," he admits once he gets his breathing back under control and Luffy pulls away.

"Oi, keep it PG in my kitchen."

When he turns his head to address Blondie, he's stopped by Luffy's sharp inhale. He immediately
turns his attention back.

But Luffy says nothing, just stares at the skin under his good eye.

Fuck, not you too.

"Bruised. You're bruised again."

"Luffy," he gets out, his voice not quite warning but almost.

"And your voice is scratchy like last time."

Last time. Last time?

Oh fuck. The gym, last time I saw him with Ace when I was all fucked up from working the back
rooms. But I didn't think Luffy noticed- he didn't say anything at the time except that it looked like I
was in a fight. Shit, but he did notice didn't he?

Luffy drops his hold on him. "Are your knees red too?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck- I need to leave. He's not supposed to know this. He wasn't supposed to
notice. Not Luffy. Yes, Zoro's knees are scraped red today too. He's had a hell of a week pleasuring
people on them. They're not just red they're multicolored- not just scabbed but bruised blue too.

Fuck.

"Luffy."

"Roronoa. Your knees."

And in it's panicked state, Zoro's brain doesn't know how to process that as anything other than a
command. He drops to them without a wince.

The kitchen goes still for a long moment.

"Roronoa." It's Luffy's voice that's warning now, but there's uncertainty in it. "I didn't- stand
up, please, you shouldn't-"

There's a hand in his and it's Blondie who leads him back to his feet. Zoro looks at the man, dazed.

"Hey, you're okay, yeah?"

Okay. I'm okay. He nods. Shakes off the sudden fuzz that had overtaken him. Fuck. This is Luffy.
Luffy and Blondie. They aren't gonna order you around like that. They won't make you do anything
you don't want to. "Sorry," he smiles. They won't hurt you. "Misunderstood."

Luffy's expression is serious as he scans Zoro 's face. "No ..." he says slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't
mean to ... you're hurt again, just worried me."

"I'm okay."

He feels their incredulous looks.

"Promise."

"So what happened then?" Blondie asks.

"Fight."

The disbelieving looks are back. Fuck, I'm not even lying about this. Sure, the rest of my shit isn't
from the fight but the black eye is. How do I-

He holds up his hands in a sudden movement, showing them both his bruised knuckles.

"Fight, promise."

"Jeez, mosshead, you're something else."

"And your voice?"

Zoro averts his gaze. Fuck, I don't have an excuse for that. Think, dumbass.

Then, all three of their heads swivel as the front door swings open. "Hey, losers!" Nami waltzes in,
leather jacket in one hand and a pack of beer in the other.

"Party's here." Usopp follows shortly behind her, shutting the door behind himself. His hair is tied
back into a ponytail, the shorter strands toward the front held back by a yellowish headband that
contrasts with his darker overalls.

"What did we just walk into?" Nami freezes near the door's entrance.

"... Nothing." Blondie breaks the awkward tension, whisking Nami over to the couch and taking
the six-pack off of her. Usopp claps Zoro on the back as he greets him and Luffy- who is still
sitting on the counter, his feet dangling against the cabinet underneath.

Luffy gives Zoro an indecipherable look before turning his attention to Usopp.

"So what's the plan today? I was thinking a game night."

He slowly sounds out the word in his head and then realizes he doesn't know what it means.

"Nami?" He tilts the card to her and she scans it quickly. She gestures for him to come close and
she whispers only for him to hear, "It's basically a really big house that rich people live in."

He glances back at the card. Sees the words 'house' and 'live' underneath the top word of 'Mansion'.
He shakes his head. "Can't say that."

She hums, puts a hand up to block the others from seeing her mouth move. "Just tell him: 'The new
place his grandpa bought.'"

"Okay." He sits up straight again and looks at Luffy.

"Thirty seconds," Blondie reminds from his place at the small table in front of the couch.

"New place. Your grandpa bought."

Luffy's face twists for a second as he thinks. "House?" He guesses.

Zoro shakes his head and looks to Nami again.

She pulls him down quickly, "Tell him it's big and costs a lot of money."

He nods and repeats the hint in a louder voice, "Big. Costs money."

"Oh, uh ..."

Blondie interrupts. "Ten seconds."

"Uh ... mansion? Mansion!"

"Yeah, you got it!" Nami shouts and high-fives his outstretched hand.

Luffy whoops as Blondie and Usopp groan. "Good job, Roronoa. We got another point."

He nods, squeezing the man's hand before continuing to thread his fingers through Nami's hair.

Her head is in his lap and she's stretched out over the couch. She didn't want to play the game-
'Taboo' he thinks it's called- but agreed to be Zoro's helper. And 'helper' really just meaning she's
playing for him at this point. Luffy is seated on a chair across from him with Blondie and Usopp-
their own team- on either sides of the table.

"Whoever gets this next point wins, so that better be us," Blondie says as he picks a card. Luffy
presses his button for the timer and they start- Blondie throwing out hints and Usopp trying to
guess the main word on the card. Zoro mostly understands the game now after the first few
rounds. The actual words on the card are a different story. Even when he is able to read and
understand them it's hard for him to come up with a clue to lead Luffy to the word, so he's grateful
Nami stepped in to help. He doesn't need her as much when Luffy is the one giving him hints at
least. He strokes her soft hair, loosely braiding a few strands together.
Usopp guesses the word right if the pair's sudden, excited jumping is anything to go by. They
promptly rub the win in Luffy and Zoro's faces. Luffy pouts. Zoro just shrugs, happy to see them
happy.

He finishes the stick of dango he had left to the side earlier and the rest of them double down on
the snacks a little. Nami and Blondie are the only ones drinking, though he's pretty sure Nami is
responsible for half of the pack being finished already. She's still extremely alert. Usopp drove
them here anyway, so it doesn't matter too much either way.

"Darling, you done with that?" Blondie asks, pointing to the can in Nami's hand. She nods, starts to
hand it over before Luffy pushes it back toward her.

"Luffy! It's empty."

"Yeah, but I want you to get up and throw it. You've been hogging him this whole time," Luffy
complains. He looks pointedly at her head in Zoro's lap and with a jolt Zoro realizes that Luffy is
talking about him.

Nami grumbles, "He's comfy, though," but she does get up after a second.

Luffy beams- "Yes!"- expression victorious like he's just found the treasure at the end of a map. He
plops down onto Zoro's legs. "My Roronoa."

Zoro stutters out what might have been a response. Stares down at Luffy who adjusts off his lap
slightly to tuck into his right side, legs crossed over his and head pillowed on his chest.

"So soft," Luffy hums, nuzzling his cheek against Zoro's right breast.

The skin of his cheeks feels like it's on fire. He squeezes Luffy in tighter. Glances up to see Usopp
and Blondie snickering- though Blondie's face is a telling shade of pink.

"You guys aren't gonna play again, are you? We should just put on a movie," Nami calls from the
kitchen.

There's a sound of agreement from Blondie and Usopp.

"Alright, one of you pick something nice but short. And Roronoa, sweetheart, I really hope you
don't mind a little drool on you."

He makes a questioning noise, then hears a faint snoring from below. He looks down to see the
shadow from Luffy's eyelashes casted on his cheeks where he has already fallen asleep. His mouth
is open ever slightly and Zoro's heart clenches at the sight.

No, no I don't mind at all.

True to his word, Smoker has been around more often. He has yet to address Zoro directly again-
stuck as his disguised person- but the man's occasional watchful eyes have become a sort of
comfort when he's working. Zoro hasn't had to work the back rooms since the man officially
showed up a few weeks ago and he's not sure if he has him to thank.
Crocodile- on the other hand- has been around much less. Making sure things are right with the
new place and getting everything underway and stable has been taking up a lot of his time. The past
week the apartment has been empty- save for a pop-in visit from Mr. 3 last night that Zoro would
do anything to forget. Though the soreness around his neck has made it hard to. Fucking fucker
choked me out when I wouldn't listen to him. No customers have commented on it tonight though
and Smoker hasn't stopped by yet either so he'll count his wins.

He's just grabbing a keg from the storage room when he hears the door open. "Zoro?"

Is that ...?

He hoists the new, full keg over his shoulder and turns to face- it is him- Ace, who is standing in
the light of the doorway.

"Ace." He walks forward and gives the man a side-hug with his free arm. "Here?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just got into town yesterday night. Sanji told me you work here so I figured I'd stop
by to see you." Zoro nods, squishing the man against his side once more before gesturing through
the open door of the storage room. Ace apologizes, quickly understanding his meaning. "Sorry,
man, don't mean to distract you from your work. I'm right behind you."

Zoro walks back out into the club, locking the door after Ace and quickly replacing the keg as Ace
takes a seat across the counter. Zoro refills a few drinks and mixes another- it's been a pretty steady
night. He turns his attention to Ace.

"I didn't even know you were a bartender. You never told me."

He shrugs. "Order?"

"Something nice and easy for you, I'm not picky."

Normally he dislikes when customers say stuff like that, because everyone has different tastes and
there's no guarantee they'll like what he decides on. But for Ace, and the cold night they've got
right now, only one drink comes to mind. He grabs apple cider and mixes it in a mug with Fireball
and honey. Adds the hot water and tops it with a cinnamon stick and some nutmeg.

"Fireball hot toddy," he says as he passes the mug over. "On me."

Ace's expression goes soft. "Thank you."

He lets the man taste it and delights at his satisfied face afterward. "Work?"

The man glances up, eyes lingering on Zoro's neck for a second too long, before reaching his face.
"Work's been good. I'm only off for three days, so I'm going back after tomorrow. I got a few crazy
stories from this past week if you wanna hear 'em?"

Zoro ducks his chin. "Love to."

.
 .

Chapter End Notes

the guy zoro fought, with the 'jaw of steel' yall guess who it was?? no, just me? lol
anyway zoro beat morgans ass

and YES i described zoro's pec as a breast bc it felt like the only acceptable alternative
to tiddy. pleasee tell me u saw how fluffy luffy was being

ik this chapter is more of a setup/buildup but i felt like it was necessary to have the
crew for the 1st time address whats kinda going on w zoro before they actually get
into it yk

also SORRY for the angst w zoro in the kitchen it just fit so well

ofc ace has gotta be here to check in- next chapter is probably gonna pick up Right
where i left off here or the next day- dk when im gonna update tho hopefully soon !

soooo whatd yall think?

 of all the places i could be (its a prison, get me out)
Chapter Summary

everybodys worried abt zoro, and said green-haired fighter goes through the wringer

Chapter Notes

have fun with this one, longest chapter so far !

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He locks the door of the bar just as the last customer staggers out, half-leaning on Miss Monday
who agreed to call the drunk man a cab before heading home.

"So, the place all to ourselves, huh? We could get up to a lot of things in here."

Zoro doesn't need to turn around to know there's a mischievous smile on Ace's face. He does turn
anyway, because he needs to finish cleaning up. He walks past him and circles back behind the bar.
"Clean. Can't." Ace had insisted on staying until Zoro leaves which won't be until he has
everything tidy. Red-haired girl left early today but not before keeping up her areas so Zoro really
only has the bar to focus on. It shouldn't take him too long tonight.

Ace shrugs. "I know. I was mostly kidding."

He clears everything off the long counter and starts sanitizing it.

"Where are you going after this?"

Home. Where else?

"I mean, where do you live?"

"Apartment, upstairs."

"Really?" Ace moves his elbows so Zoro can wipe where he was leaning. "In the apartment
building right outside?"

He nods, unsure where the questioning is going. I can't invite him over, if that's what he's hoping.
If Sir happened to come back tonight and saw another man in our bed he'd ... well it's best to avoid
it, anyway.
"Do you live with anyone else?"

Before answering he pauses and takes a second to focus on Ace. His body language is open but
almost too open? Like he's finding it hard to act casual. It can't hurt to tell him a simple yes or
no. "Yeah."

"Oh okay. Parent?"

"No." He says, firmly, and he doesn't expand past that. He's sure Ace remembers Zoro's mom is
dead. It was something they had bonded over as kids- missing their mothers. He's
significantly less sure that Ace knows about his ... He doesn't. Ace wouldn't remember any of that.
Lighten up.

"Mm."

He's being weird, why's he being weird. Zoro decides to ignore it and starts restocking the wells
after wiping the barstools.

Ace hasn't moved from his seat when he starts again. "I was never good at tiptoeing around things,
so I'm gonna be blunt with you." Zoro nods for him to continue, clenching a bottle between his
hands. "You're like a brother to me, Zoro. You've always been. So when I see you hurting, I ... I
just wanna protect you."

He doesn't know what to say, so he responds with the only thing he can think of, "Not hurt."

"You are." He points directly- unmistakably- to Zoro's bruised neck. "You are, and it's not the first
time. And I know you're strong. I've seen how strong you are. But it's only natural for an older
brother to be worried about his dumbass younger brother and I am. Worried about you."

Zoro's breath catches in his throat. Chest warms- like wood has taken flame around his heart- yet it
also clenches at the kind words. Because yes, Ace called him a brother. But he also stated his
worry.

If Ace finds out about what I do ... if he figures out all the shit I've done past what's visible, I- I
don't think I could handle that.

"Don't worry. Rough partner."

He gives him a confused look.

I have to throw him off, make it seem consensual. Though even just thinking about the word
'consensual' next to anything that has to do with Mr. 3 has nausea crawling its way up his throat.

"You're .. what do you mean?"

"Rough partner. Not hurt, I wanted it." He repeats, raising a barely noticeably shaking hand to his
throat- mimicking the move Mr. 3 pulled on him last night. "Like it." And it comes out almost
normal despite his inner embarrassment. He just hopes Ace didn't catch on to the forced breaths
behind each word.

His face pinks a little. But it's clear he doesn't believe him. Zoro is surprised to hear him vocalize
it, "I don't believe you." Zoro starts to protest but brown eyes narrow in his direction. "Don't lie to
me, Zoro. And don't brush this off either. I won't let you, not this time."

The words are strong and he shakes his head at them- I can't tell you, please understand. Maybe
Crocodile will kill me one of these days, and I'll never see you again. But if I tell you- if you knew
what I do- then I'd lose you anyway.

"Please."

Ace sighs, rubs his hands down his face a slow minute. "I want to help you Zoro." Don't, don't do
that, don't- "You're in someplace bad, and I wanna help you out. But you gotta let me in, man. You
gotta let us in." Us. Us? "We're all worried about you. Did you think Luffy and Sanji wouldn't
notice something was up?"

His breath catches at the base of his throat once more. It barely makes a sound. Fuck. It must've
been from that game night a few weeks ago when I freaked out. I'm so goddamn stupid. Of course
they wouldn't brush that off.

"Let me help you, man."

"I can't, I-" He shakes his head, thoughts too much. " Don't need help." The words are desperate
and clipped through clenched teeth.

"Zoro."

"Ace, stop. I can't, he'll-" Shut up. Stop talking right fucking now. "'M fine." He says firmly. This
whole conversation is getting too much. He steps back, takes a breath. "Need ... finish cleaning."
And he doesn't wait for a response before springing back into action. He uses the familiar motions
to avoid Ace's heavy stare.

It takes him a few more back and forth trips to finish restocking the well. Ace's eyes track his
movements wordlessly. When he's done with that he stops again in front of the man and goes
straight into cleaning and sanitizing the taps.

Though Zoro desperately wants him to, he knows Ace can be stubborn when he wants to be and is
definitely not going to drop this anytime soon. Fuck me.

"I'm leaving tomorrow night."

Zoro pauses in his movements.

"I don't wanna leave without knowing that you're gonna be safe. I know you're in some deep shit,
man, but can you at least promise me to go to Luffy if something goes bad or you get hurt again?"

He glares at the tap in front of him as though the harder he looks, the more likely it is for the tap to
sprout a face and start articulating all the shit in his brain that he wants to say. As that doesn't
work, he instead settles on a simple, "Can't."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"I-"

"Sleep on it, please. Let's meet tomorrow at that coffee place around one. We'll hang out and talk a
bit. You can let me know then, okay?"

Zoro confirms his agreement. It can't go any worse than this conversation already has.

.
He perks up with a tilt of his head, the motion allowing long strands of hair to cover his eye from
where they've fallen out of his bun. "Yes?"

"I'm Kuina, the new bartender."

He looks her up and down. She has a thinner build with dark blue cropped hair and a gleam in her
eye. Kuina, huh. "Zoro."

"Are you the owner's son?"

He owns me, so I guess technically you could call it that? Then Zoro thinks about how Crocodile
made him suck his dick this morning before fucking him in the shower. "Not really."

"Well it's nice to meet you," she reaches her hand out and he shakes it, his palm much smaller than
hers. "What happened there?" She asks, pointing to the puffy, jagged pink line that took out his left
eye over a year ago. The wound scarred ugly- a result of Crocodile refusing to get him treated.

"Nothing."

She hums, eyes holding a certain weight. "Well it's nice to meet you Zoro. What do you normally
do around here?"

"Clean up, restock stuff." Fuck men in the back rooms, he doesn't say.

"So you'll be like my mini helper." She says with a smile.

He nods, "Been learning to mix drinks, too."

"Oh, yeah? I can teach you a bunch of stuff about that. Aren't you a little young to start learning?"

He shrugs.

"Okay, nothing wrong with that. How old are you anyway?"

He tilts his head as he thinks. Twelve. Or thirteen, maybe ...? I was nine when Crocodile took me
and I think it's been around three years. He pushes away the heavy feeling that comes with that
particular thought, because he does still have to answer verbally.

"Twelve." He says, voice uncertain.

She narrows her eyes for a fraction of a second before her face smooths out again. "Well then you
are just the cutest twelve-year-old I've ever seen."

Zoro feels his face warm at the compliment.

Kuina bends down and ruffles his long hair. "Why don't you show me around a little, sweetheart?
I'm sure you're an amazing tour guide, too."

.
Zoro walks into the cafe and almost right back out.

Because Ace isn't sitting in there alone. No, Luffy and Blondie are seated on either side of him at a
high table near the back.

It's too late to walk out anyway, because Luffy has already seen him and is waving him over
excitedly.

Fuck. Fuck.

Normally he'd be excited to see them. But not today. Not after that shit last night when Ace
couldn't keep his eyes off Zoro's red-marked neck. Especially not after he asked about it and Zoro
tried to spin it to him as consensual. He said he wanted to talk. Though he didn't say he'd be
bringing anyone with.

Now, Zoro has the bruises covered with a high-necked shirt. Maybe he changed his mind and
doesn't wanna talk about any of that stuff. Please, please let him have changed his mind. As long as
he doesn't ask me about shit in front of the other two.

He crosses the space in a matter of seconds that wishes last longer. Fuck this, fuck this, fuckthi-

"Hi."

There's a chorus of happy greetings in response. Ace gestures for him to sit down in the open chair
across from him. Zoro looks at Luffy and Blondie. Sees their smiles. Fuck. Relax. They won't do
anything worse than talk. You can handle that.

He allows a shaky smile to take his face as he sits.

"What do you want me to order for you?"

"Not hungry," he shakes his head at Ace.

"Okay, what do you wanna drink then?" Blondie asks, gesturing to the cups in front of each of
them.

Ace has an iced coffee, Blondie a type of espresso with pretty art on top, and Luffy with some pink
colored drink that has strawberry pieces in it.

"Not thirsty."

As though on cue, they all take a sip of their drinks.

"It's nice to see you, mossy."

"You too." He hesitates- do I bring it up?- looks to Ace. "Didn't know ... both here."

"Yeah, uh ... I told them I saw you last night and invited you for coffee today. Hope you don't mind
they tagged along."

He shakes his head, "'Course not."

Ace passes him his cup, "Here, try some."

"No thank you."

Ace and Blondie both give him a look.

"Jeez you guys need to take a hint. Zoro's a big boy, he'll ask if he wants something to drink." Luffy
says, smiling as he rocks his chair on its back legs.

"You little shit. We're just offering, you know ... to be polite."

"Being polite is dumb. It's like being fake nice. No one should be fake nice."

"I sw-"

"Can I see your earrings?"

Zoro pauses at the sudden attention on him. But he nods, automatically reaching for his right ear as
he takes out the small hoop there. Then his left, grabbing the other ring of the matching pair. He
collects them both in his palm and offers it out.

Luffy picks them up and holds them to his own ears in a similar manner. He makes a fake stern
face. "How do I look?"

"Dumb. Like the Mosshead."

"Oi."

"Meh." Ace chimes.

"Maybe I should get earrings."

Zoro hums. "Looks nice."

"You know what you should do?" Luffy gets in close and Zoro's breath quickens. He leans to reach
over Zoro and holds the two earrings up in front of Zoro's left ear. "You should put them right here,
Zoro, but you have to add another one."

He swallows when Luffy pulls back just enough to be in front of his lips for a second before
relaxing back into his chair.

"Three, all on one ear? Please, for the love of everything, don't listen to him. Luffy's got shit taste
for fashion."

"Do not."

"Yeah, well you both have bad taste, how about that."

Blondie opens his mouth to-

"Oi, who wants to hear about this lizard-cat I saw yesterday!"

Confused and completely distracted from what was sure to be an argument, Blondie starts, "Lizard
..."

"Cat?" Ace finishes.

"Yeah, it was so cool. It had green hair- kinda like Zoro!- and a really long tail that looked like it
had scales on it."
Ace and Blondie start asking him something or other about are you sure it wasn't just dirty but any
words after that don't process. Because a jolt of dread hits him as he realizes Luffy just used his
name- his actual first name- twice in the span of a minute. And earlier, fuck, why did I not process
that?

Fuck. He knows. How the fuck does he ...

The material of his pants is soft and he bunches it into his fisted hands. He said it so casually too.
Like that wasn't just the first time he has called me my first name in years.

A hand taps the table in front of him and he snaps out of his stupor. "Where'd your head go,
mosshead? You alright?"

He nods but doesn't respond further. Can't take his eyes off the straw hat hanging on the back of
Luffy's chair.

Time has slowed. He's aware of Luffy saying something to him. Aware of Ace and Blondie's
confused expressions. But he can't do anything. It feels like someone's playing this all as a big
joke. It's not funny though. It's not fucking funny and he's stuck in a bubble that makes everything
muffled- is making everything around him move slow. He called me Zoro. His mind can't get over
the fact. He- he knows. Luffy knows. How-?

"Zoro?" And it's Luffy calling him by his name again that has his head jerking up. The bubble pops
and he looks at Ace, eye raised to focus just below the other's gaze.

Did he finally tell Luffy? Two weeks ago Luffy was using Roronoa, now all of a sudden he's calling
me Zoro again? Ace raises his hands in defense, seems to realize the question in his eye because he
says, "Wasn't me, I swear."

Blondie then, maybe? When I first met him that's how I introduced myself after all.

Fuck, I haven't heard my name out of his mouth since we were little. He remembers then. He
remembers who I used to be, and now he's seen who I am. Seen who I've become.

But no, he doesn't know all of it, he only knows what I've shown him. He doesn't know what I do-
what I've done.

You dumbass. He's seen enough though. You can't hide your fucking eye and that says enough by
itself.

"You gotta calm down, Zoro."

He's gotta stop saying my fucking name. He's gotta-

"You called- Zoro you called me ... you, you remember, I-" He cuts himself off, digs his nails into
the skin of wrists and pulls.

"I've known."

"What?"

"I realized who you were the second time you came to the apartment- when I mentioned Zoro as a
kid and you looked like you were seeing a ghost."

This whole time. Fuck. This whole time. He's known.

"Luffy." He's pleading for something, he's not exactly sure what.

"I never forgot you, Zoro."

"You didn't ..." This whole time. You've never said anything. I thought I was hiding myself from
you. Why did you never tell me?

"Zoro didn't want me to know." Luffy looks at him in earnest.

He thinks of all the shit he's been through since they first met. What Luffy must have seen despite
his efforts to hide it. Drags his fingers deeper, draws blood. "But you know ..."

"I don't think any differently of you."

"How-!" How could you not? How could you not see me and be disgusted- knowing who I used to
be. Knowing what I am now. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. You know now.

"You're still my Zoro. You've always been."

Zoro shakes his head rapidly, feels his breathing quicken and struggles to get it back under
control. Stop it. Stop freaking out. You're fine. Don't make it worse by worrying them. Apologize,
do something other than freak out. "S-sorry. 'M sorry."

"It's okay, man. Don't worry about it. He shouldn't have said that without any warning- especially
not for the first time." Ace pulls at Luffy's ear.

Luffy yelps in pain, "I didn't mean to." He turns to Zoro, eyes sincere, even as he tries to wriggle
away from Ace. "I call you Zoro in my head so it's really hard to not call you it out loud even
though I know you don't want me to."

Zoro shakes his head. "S'okay." He's coming more to terms with it anyway. Stop being stupid. Just
because Luffy connected the dots, doesn't mean he knows who I really am. I haven't told him what
I do- what I've done. Even if he figured out who I am, there's no way he has figured out what I do.
The fact that he's here right now proves that. If he knew this whole time, who I was and the shit
I've done, he would've left a long time ago.

The thought helps him to relax. Helps his leg to stop shaking against the floor where he was
actively fighting himself not to bolt. It's fine. Don't be dumb. Luffy knows, but he doesn't know all
of it.

Still ... what does he even think of me now? There's no way he's not disgusted at the look of me. Big
and scarred and useless. There's no way he- Maybe he's just really good at hiding it.

"So, uh ... what just happened?"

They all turn to Blondie with an 'oh fuck' expression. He has zero context for this. Probably's got
no clue what's going on.

"Well ..." Ace starts up and Zoro relaxes into his seat gratefully- I really did not want to explain
this shit. "Me and Luffy used to know Zoro when we were kids."
"Really?"

"Yeah, it was for this one summer," Luffy jumps in, "back when we lived on the coast. We used to
play around in this really big lighthouse and with that- Oh, Zoro! Do you remember that one super
old guy that took us fishing all the time?"

Zoro nods, lets a small, fond smile show on his face, even as his chest feels hollow. "Smoked, like
Blondie."

"Yeah," Ace's voice is wistful before he cranks a smirk. "I don't think even Sanji smokes as much
as that guy did though. Fucking smoked those cigarettes like they were his air." The brothers
snicker.

"Okay, so you guys grew up together."

Zoro shrugs at Blondie. It feels like it sometimes, but really it was only a few months. "Three
months."

"It felt like a long time though," Luffy echoes his thoughts. "Cause we had tons of fun, before ..."

"Before what?"

Zoro shies under the Luffy and Ace's attention. They still don't know what happened. The in-
between of all these years.

And I'm not gonna be telling them. "Nothing." He says, eye fixed on the wooden table.

The eyes linger on him for a few silent moments, and Ace seems about to say something when
Blondie switches the topic. "Well, no worries. Who wants to hear about this celebrity table that
came in the other day?"

He's never been more grateful for a subject change, and he settles in for the story, ignoring the
questioning look in Luffy's eyes before he too, finally turns his attention to Blondie.

I gotta be more careful around these guys. Yes, they're my friends but if I keep getting too
comfortable with them, then they'll start to figure shit out. If they figure shit out then they'll know
that I'm just a-

They can't know. I can't let them find out.

If I do then I'll lose them.

I'd do anything not to lose them.

.
He closes the door behind him softly, kicking his shoes off and placing them to the side. When he
straightens back up he sees Crocodile laid out on the couch.

One arm is draped over his face, the other holding his jacket and hanging over the side of the
couch. He's still wearing his dress shoes. It's been over a week since he's been home. Zoro walks
over.

There's a light sheen of sweat on his face.

Is he sick? Maybe just really tired. He hasn't been home in a while.

He moves Sir's arm a little to press the back of his hand to his forehead. It feels only slightly warm.
He brushes stray strands of black-purple hair off his face, runs his thumb over the smooth skin of
his forehead. It's only smooth like this in sleep. When he's awake his brows are normally always
drawn, forehead wrinkled.

Zoro has always liked seeing him asleep. The only time he's so relaxed and calm. Like a sleeping
bear, danger hidden under deep breathing. Did I miss him? Fuck, why'd I miss him?

Crocodile stirs under his touch. Lets out a deep, low whine. "... ngel?"

"Mm." He runs his knuckles on the dark scar over Crocodile's nose.

"Missed you."

He settles on his knees next to the couch. Rests his head against the man's shoulder. "Me too." He
buries into the soft vest a little. "Raindinners?"

"It's good. Finally got everything settled. Just need to keep oversight now. I'm fucking exhausted."

I can tell.

"Hot bath?"

"Oh, what did I do to deserve you." He grabs Zoro's hand and strokes his thumb over the back,
moves it so it rests on his heart. "Before you go run the bath, I need to ask something of you."

"Yes, Sir." He nuzzles his head further into Crocodile's shoulder, trying to ignore the sudden uptick
in his heartrate, which pulses through his ears.

Maybe it's something small this time.

"I'm having Bon Clay moved to man the bar at Raindinners. He'll be main staff there before I get
another person to trust for the job." Mr. 2 is the main full-timer at this bar along with Miss
Valentine and Zoro. Zoro tends to work most weekday evenings and the occasional weekend- if
he's not in the back- because the other two normally have the rest covered. Though their schedules
do flip-flop every so often. Moving Mr. 2 means- "I'm gonna need you to work a lot of his shifts.
So you might be working all day at the bar some days. I am having Mikita pick up some too and
when needed I'll just call in a freelancer."

"Okay." That can't be it. That's nothing. A few extra long days? It'll be annoying though, squeezing
the gym in even earlier on days I'm working mornings to past midnight.

There's a pause, like he knows what he's about to say won't go over well. "You're gonna balance
the pleasure rooms with that too." There it is. "I know I don't normally have you do this but you're
gonna have to bartend his mornings then finish the night in the back pretty often. Just until I get
more secure with the staffing."

He said often. He didn't say every day. Fuck, you can do this. As long as it doesn't affect- "Fight?"

"I'll make sure you're free on your fight nights. But other than that I'm really gonna need your help
these upcoming weeks."

He nods, ignores the trembling that has started in his left hand- shoving it into his pocket.

"Good, thank you, angel. You know I appreciate everything you do. Maybe I'll take you on a
vacation after all this."

Stupidly hopeful, he looks up at him, meets bleary yet sharp eyes for just a second before
downcasting his gaze. "Yes, Sir." If I don't leave by then.

He chuckles a little. "Alright, go run that bath. You'll be joining me, yes?"

"'Course, Sir." He stands and Crocodile lets his hand go. He walks through their bedroom to the
bathroom, strips himself of his shirt and starts filling up the tub. The hinoki onsen fills the room
with a relaxing air when he pours it in.

Crocodile comes after a few minutes. His steps are heavy and slow. Zoro strips them both down,
cleaning them off with a wet washcloth before stepping into the bath after him. Crocodile breathes
out a groan when he settles into the hot water. It comes up just under his chest. Zoro takes his spot
between Sir's large legs, leaning his back against the man's front. Soothing steam fills the room.

"Did Chaser try to move on you while I was gone?"

He tilts his head back, stares up at the man's strong jaw. "Sir?"

"Answer, angel. I've seen how he looks at you."

What? Smoker doesn't look at me any type of way. Are you stupid? You don't get to ask, just
answer. "No, Sir."

"Really? He didn't take you?" Crocodile's hand reaches around to grip at the inside of his left thigh.
Then the other hand finds his right and his legs are being pushed apart gently. "Then who did you
open these for?"

No one. No one I swear, I haven't even worked the back rooms since you've been gone, I haven't-
His hand circles at the base of Zoro's cock and he squeezes tight. Zoro hunches over at the pain.
"N-No one, Sir, please."

The pressure is gone as soon as it came and Zoro slumps back in relief. Tenses again at the large
hand at his throat.

"What's this then?"

This. This what? I don't-

His fingers press down and Zoro is reminded- as though struck by lighting, fuck how could I
forget- of the dark bruises there. "You're telling me these aren't from that fiery boy who stayed
after close yesterday? The one you went to see this morning?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How does he- Of course he knows. I'm a goddamn idiot. No, but I didn't do
anything with Ace, I didn't-

"I don't like when you try to be sneaky, Zoro. It never works, you know that." He grabs a fist of
Zoro's hair and pulls. "When's the only time you can fuck other people?"

"Your permission. Your permission, Sir." He desperately wants to turn around and apologize- stop.
what am I apologizing for, I didn't do anything- but Crocodile hasn't told him to move.

"You think that's what I wanna see when I come home? My angel bruised up by someone else that
I didn't know about?"

It was goddamn Mr. 3, it wasn't anyone- I didn't ... He wants to scream in frustration, but no, can't
interrupt. Can't- Fuck it. "Mr. 3, Sir. I swear."

The grip around Zoro's hair loosens. His scalp stings.

"Mr. 3 did this to you?"

He nods rapidly, inches back into the man's chest. "Two nights ago." Believe me, you have to
believe me.

Sir clicks his tongue, finally lets go of Zoro's hair. "He's been pissing me off that one. He didn't tell
me." He wraps his arm around Zoro's chest, pulls him in close as he sinks them both further into
the bath. "Relax, angel. You're alright. Just wanted to make sure you know who you belong to."

As though I could ever forget the weight of my submission.

You own me. How could I not know. "Sorry." He says, and though he doesn't know what he's
saying sorry for, the word helps his muscles to relax, his breaths to come easier. You apologized.
It's okay. You're okay.

"It's alright." There's a pause, only the slight sloshing of water to be heard. "I know I don't need to
remind you the consequences of when you let people I don't approve to fuck you." He thinks, for a
moment, that Crocodile is talking about Blondie. But his hand doesn't touch the jagged scar he put
on Zoro's right leg after that night, no. It drifts further down to the long-scarred-over, discolored,
marred skin of his knees. "I mean, last time ... someone died."

And just like that the tension comes back like a crash of the tide.

Someone. He said. Someone, like she wasn't the most important person in Zoro's life.

Yes, I know what happens.

Because Sir isn't taking about the scar he gave him after sleeping with Blondie. Sir's talking about
three years ago.

He feels numb.

Sir's talking about that time three years ago when those fucking men-

But I didn't let them fuck me. He can't ... he can't think that I would ever let someone fuck me like
that, that I wanted that. Not with how they left me.
Especially not with what happened after with Kuina. Stop. Stop thinking. Stop remembering.

"Sir." A desperate whine.

"Relax. I got you. I know you're so good for me, angel. I know you haven't forgotten."

He closes his eye, is helpless against the onslaught of long-buried memories that flash through his
traitorous mind. Go away, go away, go away. An onslaught of uncontrollable shudders wrack his
body.

"Yeah, you remember."

"Oh. I didn't think you'd be here." Daz shuts the door behind himself and walks into the apartment.

Zoro pauses where he was sweeping the floor. "Why?" It's a Wednesday so he's normally off, and
Mr. 2's last day isn't until next week. Plus he went to the gym earlier in the morning, so he's just
been relaxing at the apartment for a few hours- some meditation and UFC videos in between.

Daz takes off his vest and drapes it over one of the kitchen chairs. "Well I just stopped in with Zala
before coming up. She said you were out over at some boy's place."

That doesn't make any sense. I saw her before I left to the gym, told her where I was going. I didn't
tell her I was going by Luffy's. I haven't even been over at Luffy's in a few weeks. Though I did see
him at the cafe two days ago.

"Been home."

He hums, collapses to sit on the couch. "Smells good. What'd you make today for food?"

"Yakisoba." He sets down the broom, already going to put him a dish.

The lunch is still warm on the stove so he doesn't bother heating it up, just scoops some of the
noodles and beef onto a plate. He walks over to the living room and sets it down on the table. Daz
is sitting up now, and he grabs Zoro's wrist before he can walk away.

"Cleaning," he protests, only tugging lightly once against the hold. It gets released after a second.

"Where's your earrings?"

What?

His hands reach up reflexively and are indeed met with pierced, but not decorated
earlobes. Where'd they go?

"Don't know." He says honestly, rubbing the soft skin between his fingers. I normally never take
them off. Sir likes seeing me with them too much. Fuck, I mean, he got them for me so long ago
they're basically a part of me now. They had been a gift. The first thing Sir got him after putting
the slash through his face. Oh wait, fuck- Luffy wanted to see them the other day at the cafe. I
must've forgot to ask for them back. I'll have to stop by his place later to get them before Crocodile
notices.

"You must've left them at that boy's house then. If you're off today, make sure to grab them later."

How did he ... I just told him I haven't been to Luffy's. Why would he assume my earrings were
there?

"Anyway, I hear you'll be working more once Bon Clay moves." He starts digging into the food.

Zoro nods. Though the back of his mind stays confused, focused on how Daz knew.

"Is Croc still letting you fight?"

"Mhm."

"When's your next bout?"

"Next week." Zoro walks back over to where he had left he broom and continues sweeping around.

He hears a slurping sound. Then, "I might come to see it. Croc has been wanting me to pay Franky
a visit. He's normally there for the fight nights right?"

Zoro shrugs. I mostly just go for my match and come back right away. Never really pay attention to
who's there. Franky is the owner of the place but I've only noticed him around once or twice.

Daz hums. "We'll see I guess."

He finishes sweeping the pile into the dustpan and dumps it in the garbage. "Rainbase?"

An eyebrow is raised at him. "What about it?"

"You. Rainbase?"

Daz sighs, "Stop. Come here." He points to the floor in front of him and Zoro walks forward until
he reaches it. He's not sure if Daz meant standing or on his knees so he gets to his knees just to be
safe. "Did I tell you to kneel?" Zoro's eye widens and he shakes his head, goes to stand- "It's fine.
You're already there."

He nods, settling back down.

"Now repeat your question one more time. And, please- Listen pet, I'm not as good at
understanding you as Croc is so I'm gonna need you to use more words than that if you want me to
know what you're saying."

His cheeks flame softly, and he wishes he hadn't spoken at all.

"Go ahead."

Zoro forces himself to relax. You're fine. He gave you permission, you can talk. He clears his
throat. "You're ... gonna be at Rainbase?"

"Oh. No, I'll be at Raindinners the next few weeks. Why you gonna miss me?" He cracks a sly
smirk. Zoro just lowers his gaze to the floor in front of him. Daz sighs again, "Anyway, yeah, Croc
has been watching over all of 'em but he's taking a break- gonna be more with the bar and casino.
So he wanted some special attention on the new place- which is where I'll be."
"Okay. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." He slurps his last bite of noodles. Hands Zoro the empty dish. "Was good, pet, thank
you."

Zoro nods, gets up and washes the dish.

"I'm gonna crash here for a couple hours. Don't let me sleep too long."

"Okay." He puts the dish to dry and grabs an extra blanket from their closet. Drapes it over Daz
who is already deep asleep.

"Fuck," the man groans out, the sound accompanied by a deep thrust. "Look how easy he opened
up."

He didn't open up easy- but the man had no care for that anyway- skin tearing with the rough,
unprepped movements. His arms are secured behind his back, chest pressed against the floor of the
alley, head held up and knees spread wide on the concrete. He can't scream, can't shout for help.
Not with one of the men holding his mouth open- so he doesn't bite down again- the other choking
him with his cock. Tears make a puddle underneath him. His face is wet with more than just that.

Every hard thrust scrapes his knees further into the ground. They're stinging in a pain so strong his
head feels swimmy with it. He feels like he's not even there at all. How long have they been fucking
me? It's had to have been at least twenty minutes now. After the first five he gave up when he
realized there was no way out of this until they decide to let him go. They're holding him down too
effectively. Though he still attempted to run after one of then finished on his back and they went to
switch positions. All the awkwardly executed attempt earned him was a kick to the ribs and his
face eating concrete.

"Shit, his ass was fucking ... mh ... made for this."

He hasn't been fucked like this in a long time. Not since he was younger and Mr. 3 used to tear him
up until he started to listen just to avoid it. He never wanted it back then. He doesn't want this now.
Even working the back rooms is bad, sometimes rough, but this is different.

This is different from working the back rooms and this is different from fucking Mr. 3. Sure, he
doesn't like doing either, but at least there he has some choice, some type of control. Fighting back
with him or in there might get him in trouble with Crocodile, but at least he can fight back. Here
he's helpless. Getting fucked in the alley next to the bar like a throwaway toy. Worthless,
worthless, worthless.

His eye is scrunched tight. There's a scraping sound. He's still out of his body. A sudden
electrifyingly numb pain brings him back and he realizes the scraping sound is coming from his
knees where the concrete has grated his skin down to the bone.

He throws up.

"You fucking slut!" The man shrieks, pulling his vomit-covered dick out of his mouth. The man
behind him keeps fucking him without a care. "Quiet down, we don't want anyone to hear."

"He threw up on me, the whore!"

Fingers at his hips dig in, drawing blood. But he can barely focus on anything past the visceral
feeling of concrete against his bones. He almost throws up again.

A door slamming open is too loud in his ears and it's only then that he realizes that he's sobbing.
His mouth is free now that the two men in front have dropped his head to the floor. "Stop, pl-please
..." He begs out. There's a hoarseness to his voice that he loathes but is more than used to.

All of a sudden he's empty.

Blissedly empty. He cries in relief. There's shouting above him, maybe, a woman's voice, but the
man is off and out of him and that's all that matters. A pain rivaling that when he lost his eye
overtakes him and now- free of the hands holding him- he flips onto his back to provide his knees
the break they've been begging for. The sounds of fighting slowly filter into his senses and he opens
his eye. Is that-

Kuina shoves at the man who was just in his ass, sends him to the floor. "Don't you dare touch him,
you fucking. Piece of. Shit!" She emphasizes each word with a kick to the man's face and stomach.

"Get off him, bitch!" The man that was in his mouth lunges at her and Zoro can do nothing as they
tumble to the floor. He tries to get to his feet but with his hands still behind his back he can't. All he
can do is cry out as the man punches Kuina in the face. Stop it, stop it, please leave her alone.

He manages to throw himself against the wall, uses it to help him up. He doesn't know where the
third man has gone but then he doesn't know where anyone is because his vision goes all wobbly
and dark when he gets to a stand. "Kuina."

His vision clears. She's holding her own against the other man, now on top of him and slamming
him with a barrage of hits. The first man stands up and reaches for his waistband.

"KUINA!"

Zoro dashes forward, but on his damaged legs- along with the countless drinks he had earlier- he
doesn't get further than a step before he's falling. He catches a glimpse of Kuina's wide-eyed face
when she turns to him. Two shots ring out as he hits the floor.

"C'mon man, fuck, let's get out of here!"

He forces himself up on his torn up knees enough to see the two men stumbling as they run away.
One of them yelling, "Fuck, what'd you do?" But the voice is faint now. His heartbeat pounds in his
ears as he looks to Kuina. She looks confused, eyebrows drawn with a hand on her chest. "Kuina.
Kuina!"

She looks up at him, dazed. "Zoro," she says, and she smiles something sad.

"Kuina, they- they ..." He struggles to a stand against the wall. Forces himself to push off and
toward her. Each step sends a searing pain up and down his legs but he pushes it down because
Kuina- Kuina is breathing heavy, hand still clutching above her heart, blood slowly soaking her
shirt a dark color. He finally gets to her. She holds up a pocketknife and he turns, using the blade
to slice through the ziptie holding his hands back. His shoulders cry as his wrists are released.
"C'mon, c'mon Kuina." She stands on shaky legs with his help. "Inside, please. Let's get inside."

"It hurts, Zoro." There's tears in her voice.

The stumble through the open back door to the storage room. Another few steps and she collapses
to the floor. "Needa call. Needa get help, Kuina, please." His words are broken up by cries that he
tries to stifle. He goes to limp toward the door, towards help, but is stopped by a hand on his arm.

"I can't Zoro- this is it."

He shakes his head, tears falling down his face uncontrollably. "No. Just needa get someone. Call
someone, they're gonna help you."

"Zoro." Her voice is firm and it commands his eyes to hers. " This is it."

He kneels next to her. Moves her hand. The white dress shirt is stained red. Desperately he presses
against the wound and blood smears across his palms.

"They hurt you bad, didn't they?" Her voice wavers. No, no. They just used me for what I'm good
for, you're the one- "You'll be alright, sweetheart."

No, no, no, stop it. He feels her start to weaken. "Kuina, please."

"I'm sorry I'm breaking my promise, Zoro." Her voice softens. No. No. It wasn't supposed to be
like this. We're supposed to leave this place together, we- this is it. She's dying. Kuina's dying, I
can't- There's a smile on her face so Zoro tries to be strong for her too. He brushes her hair back,
scoops her up in his arms and rocks her gently.

"It's okay. Done so much good. Can rest now."

Her smile broadens, voice just higher than a whisper. "I love you, sweetheart. I never wanted to
leave you."

He can barely see through the tears. He chokes on a sob. "I Love you. Oyasuminasai." He holds
her tight even as she goes limp in his arms. Even as the room stills, the air getting caught in his
lungs.

"... Zoro!"

He snaps into his body at the sound of his name being yelled, though somehow it doesn't feel like
the first time it's been called.

"Hey, easy there, you alright?"

Smoker is standing above him and he only has half a mind to pull the robe tighter around himself
when the man's gaze lingers too long on his bruised knees. The action reminds Zoro of exactly how
he fell into the memory in the first place. He shifts on the plush bed. After the red-haired woman
came in to clean up from his last customer he had sat on the bed in anticipation for the next. And
just looking at his exposed, damaged knees, with his legs sore from fucking was enough to have
him sent back. The memory of what happened that night have been at the forefront of his mind
since Crocodile brought it up last week. Sure, he thinks about Kuina often. Has mostly come to
terms with her death even though he still misses her like she took a piece of him with her. But
rarely does he ever think about what happened to him before she died. He had effectively buried all
memories years ago of the men holding him down and brutalizing him against his will. Yet one
comment from Sir was enough to bring it all back.

Fuck, I was so stupid back then. Getting so plastered I could barely walk, following those men out
for a smoke. And they knew how young I was at the time, three years ago I wasn't a day older than
fifteen- and they got off on it. Fuck.

Stop thinking about it.

He recognizes the words that come out of Smoker's mouth as a question. But he's still not fully
there so it takes his brain a minute to really process them.

Are you okay?

He wipes his wet cheeks. Has to take deep breaths to quell the shaking of his body. Finally, he
nods. "Doing here?"

"I ... uh," he sits at the edge of the bed. "I wanted to see you. I told Crocodile I'd have you for this
last hour."

Oh. He wants to fuck. Zoro nods in understanding. His arm reaches out automatically and his brain
shifts into auto-pilot as his body shifts to a kneel. Smoker's white jacket is easy enough to unzip. A
steadying hand stops him before he can push it off wide shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

Does he want to strip himself? "One hour."

"Yeah, an hour to check up on you, make sure you're safe. Not an hour of ... fuck, Zoro." He steps
back, putting about a foot between him and the bed. "I know it's bad, I just ..."

His eyes scan noticeably scan Zoro up and down.

He feels too conscious of his body right now. Too aware of the feel of silk on his marred skin, and
just how much of it is exposed to Smoker.

Sure, in that hotel room he had bared himself with nothing but his boxers between them. But this is
different. Feels different. Soft, sheer fabric hanging just above his shoulders, spread wide
suggestively across the ends of his collarbones. Short robe tied so loosely around his waist where
just a simple tug would expose his used thighs and soft cock easily. It's much more intimate than he
can handle right now.

So when Smoker takes his jacket off and drops it atop Zoro's shoulders, the gratitude he feels is
something tangible. "Thank you." He reaches over to grab at the man's hips. To thank him the best
way he knows how and his hands get swatted away.

"None of that." His eyes hover low around Zoro's throat for a minute- where he can feel the nipped
marks from a man earlier tonight who liked to bite- before he sits at the foot of the bed.

Smoker takes out two cigars and smokes them. He blows out a large puff. "How many years have
you been here, Zoro?"

Too many.

The response flashes through his mind instantly. But he doesn't respond to verbalize it.

Smoker sighs- I know- he's saying. "I'm so close to saying screw this whole undercover shit and
just getting you out of here."

He doesn't look up at him, but he does tilt his head in the direction.
"I can't keep seeing you like this, Zoro. I'm thinking to just tell my team to move in on what we
have right now and see where everything falls."

Zoro thinks on it for a second, then shrugs. Regardless, Crocodile won't get taken in by the police.
Things just don't work like that.

"Anyway, I'm meeting with my boss tomorrow at a safe location to see what he thinks. If not, I'll
have to stick around longer to collect evidence. It's been hard cause Crocodile doesn't trust me with
all that stuff yet- but I've managed to get some info on his illegal dealings. So even if we were to
move in today, I wouldn't be too worried. Plus we still have your testimony."

My what. "Excuse me?"

"Y'know, your testimony. It's basically your report about everything that Crocodile has done to you
and everything you've witnessed about his illegal business. " Oh. Oh, he thinks I'm gonna ...

"No." He says, firmly, shaking his head. "I won't."

Smoker exhales sharply around his cigars. "What do you mean you won't?"

"Won't talk. Not involved."

"You're not gonna get involved?" His voice rises incredulously for a moment. "Zoro, you already
are involved. Your testimony is key to this whole thing. Sure, we might be able to get some other
employees to flip, but you- you're one of our main witnesses."

No. Nope, nope, nope. Not happening. I'd rather escape then get involved with this. Because when
their 'evidence' isn't enough and Crocodile gets out? He'll know that I was involved and then ...

Fuck. No. "Can't."

He sighs something long and tired. "Zoro, I-" Smoker cuts himself off. "You don't have to be
afraid."

"Not."

"You are. You're scared of what he'll do to you if you testify against him. But you'll be protected, I
promise. He won't be able to get to you."

Zoro shakes his head. I don't need protection from him. But I won't go against him either. I'll just
run. I've been wanting to leave for so long anyway, once I figure out how he's tracking me, that's it.
I'm out.

"You know what fine. Fine, for now. But we are going to talk about this later when you're less
exhausted."

He shrugs. Whatever. My answer won't change.

"Anyway, on an unrelated note ..."

"Yeah?"

"Things might be shaky around here the next few weeks. I heard Mihawk tried to make a move on
Crocodile's new area yesterday, so Crocodile hit him back this morning."

He takes pride in the fact that he doesn't so much as flinch at the sadistic man's name. But shit that
sounds serious. Must be why Sir was more stressed than usual yesterday at breakfast.

What does he mean things are gonna get shaky?

He must sense the question, because he says, "Just keep your eye out. I'm sure Mihawk won't just
let something like that slide, so this place might be a target."

Great. He nods.

There's a minute of silence, then, and he lets Smoker observe him quietly. "Well, I guess that's all I
really wanted to talk to you about. How're you doing?"

"Good," he says. More honestly, "Tired."

Smoker hums. "And your fights?"

He manages a small smile, though his eye has started to droop shut- the need for sleep having hit
him all at once. "Really good. Three days. Won, first round KO."

"Impressive," he returns the smile with a soft one. "When's the next time you'll be fighting?"

"Two weeks." He partially stifles a yawn. "Sorry."

"Don't be silly." Smoker stands, pulls the blanket out from under Zoro and gestures for him to lay
back against the pillows.

He shakes his head, "Not sleepy." Though it's getting increasingly harder to fight against his heavy
eyelid.

"Get some rest, Zoro." Gently he pushes Zoro back until he's leaned against the headboard.

Zoro pulls Smoker's jacket tighter around himself. "Leaving?"

"No, no, I'm gonna stay here for the rest of the time- but sleep. I'll keep you safe."

His heart clenches. "Thank you." Through a half-lidded eye he sees Smoker's large shoulder and it
looks like the comfiest thing ever. "Lay?"

He smiles. "I'm okay. Just try and get some rest."

"Lay. Please?" He demands in an exhaustion-slurred voice.

Smoker sighs, but ultimately obliges. He puts out his cigars and slips into bed next to Zoro.

Zoro rests his head against the man's shoulder, relaxes into the arms that wrap around him after a
moment.

"I got you, Zoro. Good night."

.
"I have to say, I was surprised when you reached out." The room is dimly-lit but beautifully
furnished. Dark maroon-colored couches, with a large chandelier above them that glows softly.
"Though I'm not complaining. I was looking for a way to hit him hard and it looks like you've just
given that to me." The yellow-eyed man sips at a glass of wine.

"He should be back after two days, I'll let you know exactly when. But basically it'll be him and the
brat."

"Will they go straight upstairs?"

"I'll make sure they don't. It'll be easier to get it done and write off if they're in a more open area."

"And will you be the one to do it?"

The man in front of him smiles, raising his cup of tea. "That's the best part."

Mihawk quirks a brow. "And what's that?"

"I'm calling him our executioner." Then, louder, "Come on in!"

It's a few moments before the large door opens and a blue-haired, red-nosed man walks in. He
looks ridiculous but Mihawk recognizes him instantly. "Buggy. Leader of the clown gang. I don't
recall ever having the fortune- or misfortune, I suppose- to meet you in person."

"Hawk-eyes." His smile is wide- lips so red he must be wearing makeup. "I hear you're in for
taking this bastard down?"

A minute nod. "Help yourself." He gestures to the opposite wall that's lined floor to ceiling with
bottles of alcohol.

Buggy grabs a bottle, pops it open and chugs. He lets out a satisfied sound. "But, I never expected
you to turn on him like this. What'd he do to you that's got you bringing together an old and new
enemy of his to kill him?"

The man drinking tea sets down his cup. "Something I'm not open to telling you about. But, more
than that- I want what's his."

"Greed, then. A fine motivator."

"My motives are my own. Judge the ones you know if you want, either way, I don't care. You're
either in or you're out."

"Oh, we're in." And the three share a dark smile.

.
His legs feel weighted by bricks and he barely manages to throw on a fresh pair of boxers and one
of Sir's large t-shirts before collapsing into bed.

I can't keep this up.

It's just like before. The escape attempt before my last.

Exhausted and frustrated and so goddamn sore and I ran and I should do it again. Fuck, I can't
stay here for much more of this.

He pulls his sore legs to his chest. Ignores the urge to scratch at his skin and his hair and his face
because- No. You're fine. You're clean. You showered them off and you're gonna be okay. Still his
fingers twitch before he buries them into his upper arms. They're bloodied at the knuckles from this
morning when he went too hard on the bags without wrapping his hands. Should've wrapped them,
should've fucking- But the pain felt ... cleansing. Like it wiped his mind.

Clear of all the ugly emotions and stress and-

Yeah, well next time you might hurt your wrists instead and then you won't be able to fight until
they heal and by that time you'll have gone even crazier than where you're headed now.

Fuck.

Shut up.

The back rooms have not been kind to him. Today there weren't even as many customers as usual
but they were all of the type that wanted Zoro to take control. It was as physically draining as it
was mentally.

But he forced himself through. It's all he's been doing recently- forcing himself through long shifts
at that bar that bleed into longer hours in the back. His training hasn't suffered yet but he knows it's
only a matter of time before he slips- just like last time.

I shouldn't let it get to that point again. I shouldn't ...

What can I do though? He's tracking me, I know it. He knows where I am at all times- even if I
were to try to escape again, it wouldn't end any different than it has before- except maybe this time
it'll end for good.

If I run again, he might kill me.

But what is this? This isn't living either.

Fuck.

Fuck. Turn off, shut up, I need to sleep. I'll think about this shit in the morning.

The other side of the bed dips and he feels a familiar hand digging into the back of his neck. I
didn't even hear him come in.

He reeks of smoke- surprisingly no alcohol- and his voice is rough when he mumbles, "Are you
sleeping?"

Even if I was I would've woken up from you grabbing me. "No."

The hand reaches under the blanket and the baggy shirt to drag down his back.
 Blunt nails scratch lightly over large muscles. The touch has Zoro arching his spine and Crocodile
hums at the reaction. "I'm taking us on vacation tomorrow." Zoro flips his cheek to see Crocodile
laying on his side, eyes closed, his right arm having stilled on Zoro's back as he continues. "I know
you're real tired from everything you've got on your plate, and so am I, so I think we deserve it."

"Where?"

"Downtown. I booked us a suite close to Raindinners. It'll just be for a couple days. Need to stop at
my tailor and then there's one restaurant I've been thinking to take you to. The second day I'll show
you around the new place."

It feels like his body physically lightens as tension seeps out. I won't have to work for two days.
Vacation. Fucking finally. "Thank you, Sir." He reaches his arm out and rests it on Sir's hip. His
fingers slip under the loose waistband in question.

Crocodile grabs his arm, bringing it to lay between them instead. "I'm good, angel. I know you're
grateful, don't worry."

"Sorry. Wake tomorrow?"

"I told Zala not to knock before 10. So you don't have to worry about waking up early, okay? I
figure it's better to be well rested for everything."

He nods, burying his head further into the mattress. With Sir's warm hand over his own, breathing
steady next to him, and Zoro's relief at his mercy for gifting him a break, all thoughts of leaving
and escape melt like butter from his mind.

Sleep finds him not long after.

Chapter End Notes

sooo a decent amt of angst and a lott went on

i will never get tired of soft smoker and zoro interactions

um next chapter shit goes down- just a warning. things picked up in this chapter and
will continue to pick up in the next. but anyway im making too long of an endnote
again

also thank u guys for being so patient w me ik updates are slow- i do have alotta stuff
going on so idk when the next update will be, feel free to reread in the meantime lol

lmk your thoughts!

 you were never supposed to leave (i was)
Chapter Summary

blood, guns, and a vacation- thought not entirely at all in that order

Chapter Notes

ummmm ... so

remember when i said shit goes down? this is said shit

buckle up

(this whole fic has a tw on it which im sure yall are used to but there is some unhealthy
dialogue in the beginning dream scene and some bad thoughts later on so just take care
of urselves) anyway enjoy!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

He's leaned against the wall of the storage room. Watches as Daz runs a heavy hand over the boy's
ruined back before grabbing a handful of ass and pulling out. "You did good, pet. Clean yourself
up." And Daz tucks himself back in. Walks out and leaves the boy shaking where he's leaned over
the sink.

Zoro watches the boy gouge deep valleys into his upper arms with his nails. Then he takes a deep
breath and Zoro sees the second he pushes everything down. Fuck, don't do that. The boy looks up,
his one eye laser-focused on the faucet in front of him, hands trembling where they're clenched
around the bowl of the sink like he can't get them to move. Zoro pushes himself off the wall. I
remember this. He approaches the young boy, and says nothing. Just turns on the sink. The boy
makes no indication that he can see him and maybe he can't, but he puts water onto his hands
anyway and reaches around to splash some on his small back. Fuck, I remember this. This is the
time Kuina-

Did I always look so young?

He stares down at the young version of himself. I think I was thirteen, here. The boy struggles to
wipe the blood off his back and Zoro can see the frustration building behind his eye- can remember
the frustration all too well. So Zoro scoops some water into his hands and goes to help the young
Zoro clean off. But the liquid in his hands has turned to blood and he drops them in sudden
surprise. It splatters on the floor, splashing his legs. His hands are still stained. What's going on?
He tries again, reaching for the faucet but suddenly the water rushing out is thicker, has turned
that same deep red color too. Stop it, wait- The young boy seems not to notice, and he reaches for
it again. Zoro tries to stop him, to push his hands away but he phases straight through the
outstretched arm. "Stop, it won't clean you!" He tries to yell out, but his voice only sounds in his
head. There's something over his mouth, his hands suddenly trapped behind his back. Stop, please.
Young Zoro swipes his arm through the stream of blood, and wipes it on his back, adding to the
mess. His eye stares blankly forward. This isn't how this happened, why is this-

He's back against the wall. This time he's chained down. The stream from the faucet has stopped,
and young Zoro still stares blankly ahead. Hands back to being clenched around the sink, back still
bloody, but just from Daz, not from the blood-water and- it's as though the last minute never
happened. We reset. Why'd we reset?

But he knows the answer soon enough when he hears the storage room door open. We're back to
the memory. He watches as Kuina walks in, completely unaware. And then he watches when she
sees because her face falls. She makes an uncomprehensive sound, like she can't understand what's
in front of her, and she falters a step. "... Zoro?"

He watches as the boy's eye shoots up, widening in fear.

This is the first time she found out.

"Kuina, no. I'm fine, promise." The boy desperately adjusts his rumpled clothes. Pulls his blood
and semen-covered jeans over well-bruised thighs- tries to ignore the stinging pain coming from
his backside.

"Zoro, what the hell!" Scared. Her voice is scared.

Fuck, not this. I remember this. He stands off to the side, watching the small, 13-year-old version
of himself panic near the sink of the storage room.

Fuck.

It was chance, pure chance that she came to grab something from the storage room just as he was
cleaning himself up. He'd been having sex for years at this point, with customers, with Daz, with
Sir. But he hid it. He hid it all from her, he-

A year into her working at the bar, and this was the first time she found out about what I really
do. Kuina approaches the boy, a soft, scared, look in her eyes.

I don't wanna live through this again.

"What happened? Who did this to you?"

The smaller him's eye widens, wet with tears. He remembers the way his throat closed up, because
Kuina was there and looking at him with her big eyes and he just wanted to cry. He remembers the
desperation and deep feeling of hopelessness in that moment. Hopeless, knowing that Kuina- the
one person who thought he was good, who didn't treat him like just a body to fuck- finally saw who
he really was. "No one. Nothing happened." The boy's voice is pleading, begging. Please, go away.
Don't look at me. I don't want you to see me like how I see me.

All I ever wanted was to hide this from you.

Zoro blows out a long breath, leaning his head back against the wall. The chains holding him
down have disappeared but he has no reason to move anymore. He watches as Kuina walks around
the boy, lifting his shirt up gently. His back is torn up in usual manner, a messy crisscross of
marks, new and old. She sucks in a harsh sound- "Zoro-" hiccups a cry. "Oh, sweetheart."

For a second Zoro closes his eye. That voice.

When he opens it, the memory- no, it's a dream, you're dreaming- has changed.

He's staring straight into her face. Well, no, he's staring straight down into her face.

This isn't right. I was never taller than her. Not before she died.

He glances around. Young Zoro is gone, and they're the only two in the room- though that has
changed as well. The place they're in now has red walls and corners that stretch endlessly on into
the distance. It feels familiar.

"You still haven't left, huh?"

Zoro opens his mouth to speak- finds it taped shut again. His arms are held together at the wrists
too, he realizes as he tries to tug them apart from behind his back.

"I think you like it here too much." Her look changes then. Features twisting into something
sinister. It's a look out of place on her normally soft face. "Were you ever going to leave, or was
that all just a show?" She places a hand on her shoulder. Applies the lightest of pressures and Zoro
is already on his knees. Her hand cards through his hair and he looks up at her.

"You're disgusting."

No. No, Kuina never said that.

She spits at the ground in front of his feet.

This isn't real. This isn't- Kuina never looked at me like this.

She digs her fingers into his chin, smile curving into something not human. And he stares wide-
eyed at her face that's not really hers. "All that talk of escape, but deep down you know this is all
you're good for."

He shakes his head violently. I'm a fighter. A fighter. You know that. You taught me that.

"Crocodile's green-haired whore. I get it now." And she laughs, like she's just understood the
funniest joke in the world.

That's why they were supposed to leave, after all. So they could find a place where no one knew
about her past. A place where no one knew him by that title.

"Even your friends know it now. It's written all over your body, sweetheart." Stop it, don't call me
that- not when you're like this.

"What a slut. You're happy to just lay there and take it, aren't you? Bet you beg for it."

No, that's not true, Kuina- please.

And suddenly it's Luffy looking down on him.

No. No. Not you, please.

He scrunches his eye shut.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

Luffy laughs. You can't say it. Not you too, please.

"You're such a-"

"Zoro, Zoro!"

He cracks his eye open. Immediately closes it because the world is spinning for some reason.

Give it a minute, it'll go back to normal. There's a dull pain above his ear. His body feels light and
heavy at the same time, and some of his clothes are wet- sticky against his body. Is it raining?

"Zoro, hey- wake up! Don't pass out on me."

There's a wall behind him. Concrete underneath him. He opens his eye again, presses his hand
against the wall, tries to stand up and almost gets halfway but then his head goes fuzzy for a
second and he's falling.

An arm catches him. It's thin, wiry. He steadies himself against the wall and tries to focus his
swimming vision. Sees messy black hair.

"Lu ... ffy?"

Hands steady his shoulders as he sways. "Zoro, where's all this blood from. What happened?"
There's a slight panic in Luffy's voice that he's never heard before.

Blood. His clothes are wet. Blood, not rain.

He reaches a hand up to the side of his head. Runs his fingers lightly over the deep valley there and
flinches.

Gunshot. Sir. The bar. He's-

He looks down at himself, Luffy once again steadying him as the small motion of his head makes
him stumble. But there, on the bottom half of his shirt- clear as day- is blood that's not his own. His
arms are stained with it- he can feel the dried fluid itchy against his skin.

Sir's blood.

The breath gets punched out of his lungs and he flinches as he remembers the events that must've
happened only a few hours prior.

Gone. He's gone and I couldn't ...

A low scream sounds from somewhere. It's a frustrated noise, filled with tears, and only once his
throat starts hurting does he realize it's coming from himself. His vision is blurry. He wrenches his
hands into his blood-soaked hair and pulls.

2 days prior

Hands tighten around his hips.

Crocodile leans forward. Bites Zoro's shoulder as he thrusts one final time, before holding his hips
down, keeping him fully seated on his dick as he finishes inside. He groans low, breathing heavy,
as his warmth fills Zoro up. "Fuck."

Everything is too hot- the water around them, Sir's hands on his waist, his skin which is sweating
slightly from his exertion their past two rounds.

The first had started in the gorgeous, ridiculously big bedroom of the suite up against its tall
windows that look down on the city. The second was moved to the jacuzzi in the equally as large,
and equally as elegant bathroom.

Sir shifts a little before signaling for Zoro to move. He struggles to catch his breath as he lifts
himself off- legs shaking violently. "How do you always make it so good?"

Zoro shrugs, settling in next to Crocodile in the large tub. "Know you." The water feels
suffocating, though the feeling isn't all bad since it does help to kill his erection where he was a
zero to Crocodile's three in orgasm count for the rounds they went.

"Mm. Did you like the suit I picked out for you?"

He nods, though he's distracted by the feeling of cum inside him paired with the feeling of empty.
"Thank you, sir."

"Of course. Do you want to wear it tonight?"

"Please."

"So polite." He hums low, half-turning to Zoro and leaning down to nip at his neck. "You having
fun?"

"Yes." And he's not lying. It feels so good to have a break. It's been nice. They relaxed earlier-
went shopping and to the tailor. Even now, that he's caught his breath, he is starting to enjoy the
water on his cooling skin.
"Good, I'm glad." He leans his head back against the rim of the tub. Sighs something long and
closes his eyes. "I'm gonna take you again before we go. Plug you up with everything when I
finish."

Fuck no, please. He can't stop the way his body freezes.

"I know, I know you don't like when I use it," he placates, sensing Zoro's reaction. "But I want you
to be nice and loose for me tonight, okay?"

"Okay," he whispers. And now tries to appreciate the emptiness. Because this'll be the last time I
can feel it today. Fucking hate the plug. He rarely uses it but when he does ...

"Gonna make a mess of you."

He nods, forcing himself to relax. You're on vacation. He took you on vacation. The least you
could do is let him fuck you messy.

"We really needed this, huh?"

Zoro nods, grabbing Sir's hand in the water. I was going crazy without a break. This vacation is
exactly what we needed. I still don't know why he even took me.

He lowers his head to look at his scarred thighs that seem as though they are moving, wobbling
side to side, under the gently bubbling water. All these fucking marks. All of them because I
wouldn't listen, or I was no good, or- All this shit and he's put up with me. For years. If he wanted
he could make me work till I pass out and keep me caged in the apartment the rest of the time. But
he doesn't.

He lets me go to the gym and train, have my fight nights, see my friends. He takes me on vacation
when he knows things are getting to be too much. Why?

It's a question he has asked many times over the years in many forms. Why does he bother with
me? Just a no good screw-up.

Stop. You can't think like that, you're-

Maybe it's the frustration building in his chest, or the cum leaking out of him paired with the too-
hot body next to him that's making him feel not all there- but there is a distinct lack of filter
working in his brain when he blurts out, "Why do you want me?"

Crocodile says nothing. Then chuckles, "What?"

Instant regret flashes on his face in the form of increasingly red cheeks. Crocodile's eyes stay
closed though, as though to give him a moment to collect his thoughts. The question weighs heavy
on his mind- always does when Sir treats him nice. What have I done to deserve his kindness? Why
has he kept me all these years? Not one to back away, he pushes down his discomfort and
insecurity. Repeats the question, though it's with more of a stutter this time. The question itself is a
reflection of his vulnerabilities. It's a desperate attempt at getting reassurance. Pathetic.

He expects Sir to laugh it off. Say something along the lines of: What kind of a question is
that? But he doesn't. He hums. Finally opening his eyes to look down at Zoro who shrinks under
his gaze. "You're mine, angel. Why would I ever not want you?"

Zoro shrugs. Tries to shove away the thoughts that scream at him just a good-for-nothing fuck.
"Look at me."

His eye widens, but he quickly snaps it up to meet Crocodile's chest.

"No, look at me. In the eyes. Let me see you."

Zoro's face burns. He drags his eye to meet Crocodile's own. Even now he's gifting you- letting you
look him in the eyes as though you deserve to. He hopes Crocodile can see the gratitude on his
face.

"Since you were little, I've taken care of you. Given you a home. Because I saw you had something
special. Sure you don't listen all the time, and I've had to show you the consequences of that." His
hand trails up Zoro's scarred torso, reaches around to feel down the deep grooves in his back.
There's a few new raised additions from last week. "But you've always been good. Even when you
try to run, you always learn your lesson. Come back more grateful than before." He pauses at the
small of Zoro's back. "You're a good kid. You do a lot for me, don't think I'm blind to that. So you
deserve this vacation."

The hand moves to his hip. "I want you, because even when you were smaller you were always so
good for me- so eager to please." A smile spreads across his face and Zoro finds it hard to continue
to meet his eyes. But he doesn't dare look away. "And now look at you," he level a heady,
appreciative gaze at Zoro's body. "You've grown with me. You're mine." He repeats. And the
answer settles in Zoro's ribs like a final judgement.

He nods, averting his eye. "Thank you," he whispers, feeling dirty for even asking for the blatant
validation. He owns me- of course I'm his.

Crocodile hums. "Relax, Zoro. Don't think so much- enjoy the vacation. Like I said, we both
deserve it." He closes his eyes again, relaxing into the tub.

"Yeah," he follows Sir's lead. "Okay."

"Did I ever tell you the story of how I first opened Baroque Works?"

Yes. It's a story Zoro has hear countless times already- practically know it by heart- but he needs
something to distract himself with, so he makes a noise of affirmation, never one to lie, and follows
it up with, "Like it."

Sir laughs. "Well, then, I suppose it doesn't hurt to repeat." And he starts into it.

Every word takes him further away from his doubts and anxieties and not long after, he's fully
pressed into Sir's side, muscles loose.

Halfway through, Sir starts dozing. Zoro lets him sleep, leaning against him as he rests. Under his
breath he finishes the rest of the story out loud among the sounds of bubbling water and light
snores.

.
Dinner goes well enough. It goes great, actually. Crocodile takes him out to the fanciest Japanese
restaurant he's ever seen. The food is so tasty and it pulls up faint memories of his mother's
cooking. He can hardly believe that the place is real and that it was Crocodile who took him- who
has been wanting to take him here for a while.

They talk for a long few hours. It's mostly Crocodile venting his frustrations about work while
Zoro listens, but Sir is more than used to it by now- it's how most of their conversations go
anyway. He does ask about Zoro's bouts, which gets him excited and allows him to temporarily
forget about the two loads of cum stuffed in his ass.

When they finish dinner they head back to the hotel and Crocodile fucks it out of him slow and
easy. They take their time.

The next morning they sleep in, have sex, and grab breakfast, before heading to Raindinners.

It's very similar to the Baroque Works club, with some elements from Rainbase, and something
else completely new. Crocodile shows it off to him proudly. Zoro can't ignore the part of himself
that is happy and relieved to see the other man in such a good mood.

Before he knows it, they're in Sir's car, and they're heading back to the apartment. The past two
days felt like a dream- a whirlwind of an outing that was over too quickly. But he nonetheless
appreciates having had the time off. He feels more well rested than he has in days as they drive
away from the center of the city- leaving twinkling lights behind them.

Once the streets start becoming more recognizable he knows they're almost home. Sir has soft
music playing over the radio. He reaches over. Let's his hand hover just next to Crocodile's- who's
lips twitch as he grabs Zoro's hand.

"Thank you, again." He says, because he feels like he hasn't shown his gratitude enough.

"Mm, anytime, angel." He kisses the inside of his wrist, other hand on the wheel as he turns onto
the street of the club and apartment. "I had fun with you."

"Me too."

The club isn't busy, and Zoro sees a familiar-looking guy smoking outside before Crocodile pulls
the car in and parks it behind the apartment.

"Unload our stuff upstairs and then meet me down." Crocodile shuts off the car and hands him the
key. He nods, grabbing the couple bags they had from the back seat and taking them to the
apartment. He unlocks it and sets the bags inside, just off to the left, before locking the door again
and walking back out. The man from earlier is gone and he heads in. There's not a bouncer at the
front, even though there should be- he clocked the time at around 1:30 am before he got out of the
car.

The club really isn't busy at all, barely even twenty people hanging around the place. Miss
Valentine is at the bar, and- there's that guy. The one he spotted smoking outside. He looks so
familiar. Fuck, where do I know him from?

He knows the face, but can't place it. Until he steps closer and spots a tattoo of a skull and
crossbones with a red nose on the man's exposed upper arm.

The symbol of the Buggy crew.

Cabaji.

He thinks of lingerie and rope- the two things Cabaji had used on him all those years ago- and how
he made Zoro-

Fuck. What is he doing here?

It's been years since any of that clown guy's people have stopped in. Not since the falling out
between Buggy and Sir.

He doesn't know much about what happened, but he does know things were left on bad terms. So
why the hell is he here?

Normally they'd be stopped at the door if any of his guys tried to show up- wait, there's no bouncer
tonight. Well that tracks then.

Miss Valentine seems to be chatting him up. Zoro recognizes the hustle behind trying to get a nice
tip, but also shudders at the thought of doing that with Cabaji. Fucking pervert. But she also hasn't
been here too long, maybe came in a year and a half ago, and it's had to have been at least two
since they had their problem- so she would have no clue who he is.

As he walks to the bar, he clocks four more of that clown's crew. Somethings not right. Where's
Sir?

"Hey, Zoro." Miss Valentine greets, passing him a glass of water over the counter. He accepts it
gratefully, grunting out a 'thanks', before turning to Cabaji who already has his greasy-haired head
turned and narrowed eyes locked onto him.

"Well, look at you all grown up."

He hums, sips at his water. Figure out what's going on. "Doing here?

"Oh, just stopping in to say hello."

"To who."

He leans forward, pulls Zoro in with a hand bunched in his shirt. "Your handler," he whispers into
Zoro's ear, before biting down on the skin underneath it. Zoro lets him. Lets him until- "Unless you
wanna let me dress you up all pretty again, show me a good time before then."

Don't fucking- In one quick move he breaks the hold on his shirt and slams his elbow into the
man's face.

Cabaji yelps and clutches at his nose in pain.

Fuck you, you don't get to fucking touch me.

"You bitch."

Zoro steps back from the man's advance.

"What's going on out here?"

Everyone Zoro identified earlier as Buggy's crew turns their heads as Crocodile walks out of the
office and into the main area of the club. Miss Doublefinger and Mr. 3 are close behind him.
Crocodile's eyes lock onto Cabaji- blood trickling out of his nose- who had frozen mid-lunge at
Zoro.

Zoro reads the way Sir's eyebrow twitches as him recognizing Cabaji's face, but also struggling to
place him. He leaves Cabaji by the bar, feels like he's walking through sludge from how thick the
tension in the club has suddenly gotten, as he crosses the few steps to go by Sir. He covers a decent
amount of Sir's body with his own once he's standing in front of him and when he's close enough
he whispers, "Buggy's crew. Cabaji."

Sir's eyes narrow instantly.

"Get the fuck out of my club, now." His voice is calm and even- but the threat is unmistakable.

Zoro shifts to cover the subtle movement of Sir reaching for his gun. He looks over his shoulder to
see Cabaji smile with teeth stained red.

"All of you, now." Sir corrects, eyes pinpointing the four other people standing around from
Buggy's crew.

"Don't you wanna hear the message first?"

"Spit it out."

"Well," he pushes himself away from the bar, "Buggy still wants your ass dead, and Mihawk sends
his regards." Zoro sees the movement before Sir does, and he shoves Sir to the side as Cabaji
draws his gun. Then his ears ring with the sound of a gunshot and he feels thrown into slow-
motion. The side of his head burns, sending electric pain through his skull from where the bullet
grazed the skin just above his right ear. His breathing is loud in his ears- the only other sound he
can hear past the ringing and the muffled bang of gunshots. But he registers that Crocodile has
ducked behind a wall, peeking in and out to fire off shots at the members of Buggy's crew.
Somehow Zoro manages to lunge for the safety of the bar as two bodies slam against the floor.

There's screaming. People are screaming, why are they- Fuck, there were other people here. The
club wasn't empty, there were customers. Shit.

An arm is on his and it's Miss Doublefinger. His ears are still ringing. He looks up to read her lips.
'Help him'. She says, pulling her own gun out. Her voice grows slowly louder in his ears, " ... I got
this."

A barrage of gunshots assaults his ears once his hearing is back to normal. Miss Doublefinger is
off, shooting multiple rounds in the direction Cabaji was. Help him, she said. Him who? He
immediately looks to Sir, who is crouched on the floor, grabbing at his stomach.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He trips in his haste to get to the other man. Panic has him uncaring that he's running through a
path of shots being fired. Sir got shot. Sir- He slides to a crouch in front of him. Presses his hands
desperately against the bullet hole on his abdomen.

"'M fine, angel." He shouts, waving Zoro off. "Gonna kill that bastard."

Zoro shakes his head, hands wet with blood. Too much, he's bleeding too much. He looks up at
Crocodile's face. It's paler than usual. Outside of their bubble the screaming and gunshots seem to
have stopped. He glances over to see Miss Doublefinger slumped over- but it's in relief, not
pain. She must've got Cabaji. Sir's sudden choked out growl grabs his attention again. "You-"
His eyes narrow with a sudden understanding and hatred.

Zoro whips his head around.

"Me."

It's Mr. 3 standing a few feet away, not a scratch on him, and mouth twisted into a smile- an arm
leveling a gun pointed straight at Crocodile's head.

Zoro lunges. A record of no, no, no, no- on repeat in his head.

His ears again ring with the sound of a shot being fired off and more screaming and then he's
slamming Mr. 3 to the ground. The man struggles under him and Zoro forces him onto his
stomach, arms already around his throat. He holds his body down while pulling his neck up into
his arms and Mr. 3 is out in a second. He shoves off of the limp body, looking back frantically.
Miss Doublefinger is crouched over Sir, tears streaming down her face as she holds her hands
against his bleeding neck. His stomach too- is still bleeding profusely, and Zoro stumbles over in a
daze. "Sir." His hands find the stomach wound again, and he applies pressure to it the best he can.

"I'll be okay." He slurs, eyes foggy in what must be an immense pain.

"Sir, please."

This can't be it. This can't-

In a daze, he stumbles through the streets. Leaving behind flashing red and blue lights.

'We'll do the best we can, but it doesn't look good.' The EMT had said as they loaded him up in the
ambulance.

Wind feels cold against his cheeks, the breeze drying tears and blood on his face. Wake up, wake
up, wake up.

This isn't real. Can't be.

'So will he make it?' Miss Doublefinger's wet voice rings through his head. Then the grim look on
the EMT's face- more damning than anything he could have replied with.

It all happened so fast.

They wouldn't let him in the ambulance.

He had to watch, helpless, as it sped away along with another- carrying a customer that had gotten
caught in the crossfire. Police cars had swarmed not long after but by that time Zoro was already
away from the scene. His feet somehow carrying him despite the weight in the pit of his stomach.
Thoughts screaming at him to get away, get away, wake up.

His head is still bleeding, he realizes distantly- though he can barely feel the pain past the heavy
layer of numbness that has settled under his skin. He's gone.

It's over. Just like that.

A scream of frustration tears itself from his chest and he wraps his arms around himself, blindly
digging nails into his shoulders. He almost collapses to the floor. His legs feel weak- his whole
body too weak- to keep going.

It was never supposed to end this way.

You useless piece of shit. All that he's done for you and you couldn't even help him when it
mattered.

Stop it. Stop it. Shut up.

What am I gonna do now?

I can't ... can't go back there. But I don't have anywhere else to go. His feet seem to know a
destination his head isn't aware of though because they keep him moving forward.

It's just a bad dream. Wake up. Wake up.

No amount of begging seems to rouse him and he realizes suddenly that he's stopped. Looks up at
the familiar apartment building. Why did I come here? I-

They can't see me like this. I can't let them ...

But his legs give out. Where else can I go? He leans back against the brick wall. Should clean
myself up. Should ... but his eye is drooping shut. The lid is heavy, and his legs are lead and none
of this is real. When I go back home Sir is still gonna be there. No bullets in him and smile still
soft from their vacation.

The night air is cool on his skin.

Not again. Not this again.

Now

He comes to- to the smell of food. His clothes are dry. The surface under him is soft. There's no
wind on his skin. He sits up slowly, mindful of the slight dizziness behind his eye. He's on a
couch. A slow look around reveals that it's the couch in Luffy and Blondie's apartment. Fuck. Fuck
how'd I get here?

There's a sheet of gauze above his ear. It feels soft under his fingers. You were shot. Sir was shot.
Sir is-
Stop it. Stop.

He swings his legs over the couch.

Luffy found me outside, I remember. Light streams in from the window. He looks down at his
clothes. His pants are the same from last night, though his bloodied shirt has been tossed, and now
he's left in just his undershirt. There's specks of blood under his fingernails and he swears his hands
are still stained red even though it looks like someone wiped them clean.

He's gone.

And the thought slams through him like a finality.

"Roronoa?"

Zoro turns, glancing over his shoulder to see Blondie in the kitchen. He walks over slowly and
Zoro tracks him with his eye.

"How're you feeling?"

Like there's a weight in my heart pulling me down. Like I can't feel a fucking thing.

"'M fine." He puts a hand to his head again, feeling the bandage. "Did you ...?"

"No, no." Blondie sits across from him on the the table. A hovering distance. "Law came by to
stitch and patch up your head. He wanted to stay but he had work, told me to just keep him posted
once you woke up."

Zoro nods. I shouldn't have come here. Bothering them all with my bullshit. He stands. Blondie
puts an arm out instantly, but Zoro doesn't need it, is able to steady himself and blink away the
black spots in his vision on his own. "Sorry."

"Nope. None of that." Blondie puts an arm on his shoulder and Zoro tenses. He drops the hand just
as quick. "Don't apologize for anything. I'm glad you came here, I just wish I had known you did
earlier- you must've been sitting out in the cold for hours before Luffy came home."

"Luffy, where?"

Blondie gestures behind himself. "He's sleeping. Before he found you he was over at Usopp's. The
two dumbasses pulled an all-nighter playing some new game of theirs. Though I guess it's not all
bad cause if he hadn't come home when he did, we wouldn't have seen you outside until I woke up.
Anyway, sit back down, I made you some soup." His tone is firm, but Zoro still wants to argue it. I
can't stay here. They've already done too much for me.

Where else am I supposed to go? I can't- won't go back to the bar. Back to our apartment. There's
no place for me there, not anymore. But that doesn't just give me the right to crash into their lives
like this.

He looks at Zoro expectantly.

Fuck. Eat first, figure out what to do after. After, when he's not watching you like he thinks you'll
bolt any second.

Zoro sits down and Blondie smiles, "Great, just a sec!"

His leg pistons against the floor once Blondie is out of sight. He comes back with a steaming bowl
in hand and Zoro tries to control the shaking.

"Can I?" He motions to the space on the couch next to Zoro.

It's your place, you can do whatever you want. You can throw me out on my ass, if you wanted. You
should throw me out. I'm no good. He nods.

Blondie takes a seat and hands him the warm bowl. "This is the first time I've ever tried to make it,
but I thought you might like it, so let me know."

It's Zosui by the looks of it. "Okay," he whispers, and he picks up a spoonful. Tremors in his hands
won't stop. The spoon bends a little under his tight grip and he manages to get it in his mouth with
minimal spilling.

Then he's struggling not to cry.

It tastes just like she used to make it. Whenever I was hurt bad or sick she'd make me this. Fuck, I
can't think about her. Not now. Not on top of everything.

"Roronoa?"

He looks up instantly, blinking back tears.

"'S perfect. Thank you."

Blondie smiles something soft. "Enjoy. I made a lot."

Zoro nods, and then they sit in silence as he finishes the bowl. When he's done he goes to stand up
but is stopped.

"I got it," Blondie insists, snatching the empty bowl from him.

He shakes his head. "No more, not hungry."

Blondie shoots him a look between angry and incredulous. It screams, I'm not taking any bullshit
from you. "That's not your call to make. Law said you lost a lot of blood, so you need to eat more,
get your strength back." He refills the bowl in a flash and comes back, handing it off along with a
water bottle. "Here, finish both- please and thank you."

And he really has no appetite, but he knows how Blondie gets with food, so he finishes what he's
offered. Clutching them both tight against his chest when he's done.

Blondie understands the message. "Oh, alright, give them here. I won't put you more, promise. But
you're having some later."

Hesitantly, Zoro hands them off. And Blondie takes them, walking them back to the kitchen. He
hears the rush of water behind him and then Blondie's asking, "So I heard there was a shootout at
your bar late yesterday. Is that- were you there when that went down?"

Flashes of last night- of bullets and blood- pound at his head.

He's shaking again. Can only remember three times in his life that he's ever felt so lost as he does
now. "Don't wanna ... talk." He whispers, but Blondie hears him all the same.

I can't do this. I can't ...

"Okay, no worries, I just-"

"Bathroom." He blurts out, and then he's surging to his feet. Blondie says something but he can't
hear anymore because he's already down the hall, bathroom door shut behind himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You're freaking out. Stop freaking out.

Fresh memories of Sir bleeding out underneath him assault his mind.

He struggles through a half-assed attempt at controlling his breathing.

He wants to cry. Wants to scream and rip his lungs out of his chest because they won't just breathe
and he feels like he's going crazy.

He's gone.

He's gone and I can't stay here.

What am I supposed to do?

Fuck.

I can't just sit here and cry about it. I won't let myself.

I need to push it down. Push this down like everything else and get the fuck back up.

I can't stay here, and I can't go back.

All these years. All these fucking-

This is what it's led up to?

He pulls at his hair to stop himself letting out a laugh of pure hysteria. After all this ...

There's something clawing at his chest and he stops himself right before he puts a hole through the
bathroom wall with his fist.

Breathe.

His head is far from clear, but he knows freaking out won't do anything, so he shoves down all his
useless fucking thoughts and emotions. It leaves him feeling more hollow than before.

What's happened, happened.

I can't change it. I just have to deal.

Sir's gone so I'll-

What else can I do except leave? Finally leave. Just need to go back to the- fuck- apartment and
get my money stash. Grab some clothes, and my gym bag and the money and hop on the next bus
out of here.
I can leave.

Fuck.

He takes a deep breath and walks out of the bathroom.

Blondie looks up at him from the couch. He opens his mouth to-

A knock sounds.

He looks between the door and Zoro for a moment. "One sec," he holds a finger up and walks over
to the door. Checks the peephole and Zoro sees a look of confusion on his face before he unlocks
the door, opening it a small sliver.

"Yes?"

"Is Zoro here?"

Zoro freezes at the voice. That's-

"Who the fuck are you?" Blondie has a hand on his hip and Zoro takes a few steps toward the door.

"Is he here?" The man repeats. Zoro still can't see him, behind the door as he is, but he knows who
it is. Why? Why him. Why now?

"Hey, shithead. I just asked you a question. Now tell me who the fuck you are before I slam this
door in your face." Blondie's voice has risen and Zoro sees him grab for a cigarette.

"The police. If he's here I need to talk to him."

"Well he's not. Sucks. Have a good day." He goes to close the door and Zoro stops it with a hand.
Blondie looks back at him, expression shocked.

"It's okay," he says, and he nudges him to the side, opens the door fully. Is met with the wide frame
of Smoker.

"Zoro," he breathes out.

"Smoker or Chaser?" Who are you here as?

"Smoker. I dropped my cover after ... last night."

Zoro nods. Doesn't know what else to say. Why did you show up? I had- I have a plan. It doesn't
involve you. It doesn't involve anyone else. Just me and a bus ticket out of here.

A fresh start.

The one I've been looking for all these years.

"I know you probably don't want to talk about anything right now-" You're damn right about that.
"But I'd like to take your statement about yesterday's events and some stuff about Crocodile."

Sir's dead. Why the fuck do the police still care about him? Can't arrest a dead man. Zoro shakes
his head.

"Zoro, it's really important that I get your statement, please. I promise I won't ask you anything else
about your work except what happened yesterday, unless you're comfortable with it."

"What's it matter?"

"Huh?"

Zoro shifts on his feet, hands clenched tight at his sides. "Matters why?"

Smoker still looks confused. "Wh- you were directly involved yesterday. You got shot for damn
sakes. And we already talked with Zala- she's the one who told me where I could find you- but she
said you choked out the shooter as well."

"You WHAT?"

Zoro ignores Blondie's outburst. Processes on some level that Miss Doublefinger somehow knew
where he was. "Yeah, but he's ..." Fuck I don't wanna talk about this. He takes a shuddering breath.
Eye on the floor. It's real- there's no changing that. Saying it won't make it any more real than it
already is. "He's gone." The words come out quieter than he intended.

"Who's gone?"

And it's only because Smoker sounds so genuinely confused that Zoro looks up. You know. You
just said you talked to Miss Doublefinger, I'm sure she would have told you this too. But he doesn't
seem like he's joking, so Zoro clarifies, "Sir. He's dead."

There's that hollowness in his chest again.

Smoker looks even more confused than before, which is saying something. "Crocodile? He's not ...
why would you say that?"

And now Zoro's expression matches him, but it's also laced with a rising anger. I don't wanna
fucking talk about this, and why the fuck is he acting like he doesn't know? "Shot." He places a
hand on his neck and stomach- the two places Sir had been hit. "EMT said ... didn't make it."

Smoker inhales sharply. "Zoro." And his voice is possibly the most serious Zoro has heard it yet.
"Zoro, listen to me. I want you to listen and not freak out, just ... Okay?"

What the fuck is wrong with him? Spit it out, whatever it is.

He takes the silence as a go ahead and places a hand on Zoro's shoulder. "He's not dead, Zoro."

The following silence stretches for a minute.

Zoro looks at him as though deciphering a foreign language.

Not dead, not dead, not dead- on loop in his mind.

He shakes his head. "What?"

"Crocodile's not dead."

 .

Chapter End Notes

i really said SIKE huh?

soooo whatd yall think? bit of a long chpt. please yell at me in the comments! i love
interacting w u guys

more plot to come in the next few chapters, dk when ill post next tho, as always
appreciate ur patience w me!
 all these goddamn decisions, but i just wanna be safe (just want You)
Chapter Summary

sooo summary, Right

croc is alive, zoro deals with a hard decision, and smoker is a treasure

Chapter Notes

can yall believe it only took me like a wk to update this! crazyy shit ( i barely looked
over this)
also theres a kinda long scene in here but read through it its worth it i promise

enjoy !

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The quiet of their apartment is a suffocating curtain. He closes the door, slumps against it, and just

breathes.

What a fucking day.

Pushing himself off the door, he goes to walk to the bedroom and almost trips over one of the bags
he placed by the door last night. Managing to steady himself, he glares down at the small
collection of them. Just yesterday I put these here after we got home. Jeez.

What a fucking day.

He leans down and opens the one he had almost tripped from, pulls out a large hoodie off the top.
It's Sir's, and it's soft and well-worn. Though that's more from Zoro's use of it as a comfy thing to
sleep in than anything.

Currently he's still just wearing his black, short-sleeved undershirt. So he's cold. He's cold and the
undershirt is so tight he feels naked and- did he say he's cold already?- and there's definitely no
other reason why his slips the hoodie over his head. Definitely not an attempt to feel safe or
anything.

He also definitely doesn't notice the way his whole body relaxes with the familiar feel and
comforting scent of Sir's clothes.

He's alive.

Zoro breathes out.

He's alive and I'm still leaving.

The soft fabric on his shoulders grounds him, lets him stay out of his thoughts for the time needed
to pick up all three of the small bags, walk over to the bedroom, and toss them on the bed. The bed,
which looks more incredibly comfortable than possible.

Just wanna sleep.

His eye starts to fall close at the thought, but no- Need to pack my shit.

He grabs his tip stash from a box under the bed and his gym bag from the bathroom and stuffs the
money into one of its pockets. His body mostly works on autopilot as he changes into a clean pair
of sweatpants and gathers the few items he always takes with him when he tries to escape. When
he's all packed, he ties Kuina's blue bandana around his arm and leans on the bedframe. I won't just
try this time. This time this is it.

Slowly he sinks to the floor. Lets his head knock back against the mattress.

His eye travels over the room and into the bathroom, through the slightly ajar door. Memories of
the years he's spent with Crocodile flip slowly through his mind like a picture book. He thinks of
all the good and bad things that have happened here. All the times he felt loved. All the times he
felt hurt and scared and alone. And thinks, I can't stay.

Sir's alive. And I can't stay.

After an unknown amount of time he stands up again. Smoker's probably outside. He brushes his
pants off, slings his gym bag on, and walks out of their apartment- his home for the past nine
years- without another glance back.

It's cold outside when he closes the larger door behind himself. He walks down the couple steps
onto the sidewalk. There's still a mess of yellow tape around the club's entrance so he avoids
looking over. Smoker's police car runs idle in front of the apartment, though the man isn't inside.
Zoro steps closer until he's next to the passenger and resists the urge to try the door. Shouldn't get
in if he's not here.

He waits, cold air biting at his cheeks, and lets his mind wander a bit. There should be no one to
come after me when I leave this time. Smoker said they arrested everyone involved in Sir's illegal
stuff- including Miss Doublefinger and Daz.

Still ... I don't trust it. What if one of them gets off? If one of them doesn't go to jail?

If they come after me...

I can't come back here.

I'll run myself through before coming back here again.

Should- needa make sure they can't find me just in case. Need to stop the tracking.
They know where I am. They've always known. How? Think.

His mind flashes through his countless escape attempts, old and new, tries to find a pattern- to
narrow this down to something. Last time I tried to escape I took nothing with me that I hadn't
already checked over. Just my gym bag, some clothes, and money, and I checked everything to
make sure it was clean. They still knew where to find me. I'm missing something. Think.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. He feels more than sees the startings of snow as some
flakes brush against his nose, settle in his hair.

It always comes back to Miss Doublefinger. More than Sir. More than Daz. She always knows
where I am. Fuck, she even told Smoker that I was by Blondie this morning. How'd she know?

He reaches a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. His palm bumps past the earring on his right
ear and he freezes. It's such a sudden, bodily movement, that paired with his stilled thoughts, it
leaves him shaking. His hand trails back to his ear. Fingers trembling as they unclasp the hoop
there. His left arm follows to take out the other. And then he can do nothing else except stare at the
collected earrings in his hands.

It can't be.

You're just being paranoid.

The gold twinkles up at him, mocking. Wet drops of snow fall into his open palms.

Years.

It's been years of me wearing these. The first gift Sir ever gave me.

And his brain has thawed now, and is spinning. Connections fall into place like a hideous puzzle.
Is this how Miss Doublefinger always knew where I was? I was wearing them last time I tried to
escape. The only things I took with me, completely unintentionally too, that were from Sir. How a
few weeks ago she told Daz I was at Luffy's but I wasn't? I wasn't- just my earrings were.

It's the only thing that makes sense.

But ... It can't be.

Everything is spinning, so he closes his eye. It doesn't fucking help.

I always thought ... and Sir liked them on me so much. Said they were the best things he ever
bought me. Always playing with them, thumbing at them when he'd brush through my hair and-

I'm gonna be sick.

He barely manages to bend over before he's retching onto the sidewalk. The earrings stay clenched
in his right fist.

"Whoa, you okay?" It's Smoker's voice. From the corner of his eye he sees him ducking under the
police tape and jogging over. Zoro doesn't wanna lean back up.

His face is numb from the cold, the taste of bile lingering in the back of his scratched throat, and
tears in his eye that are two seconds from spilling over. Go away, go away, go away. I'm a mess.
Fuck. Get it together.

There's a hand on his shoulder. "Kid, you alright?" Zoro nods, rubs aggressively at his eye with the
sleeve of his hoodie before straightening up. He avoids Smoker's gaze. "Okay, alright. Let's get
you in the car." He opens the door for Zoro, making sure he slides in without problem before
walking around the car and settling into the driver's seat. Then Zoro is being handed a napkin and a
bottle- both of which he takes gratefully. He wipes his mouth then swishes water around it. The
taste is still there, along with the burn in his throat, but it's much fainter than before. "Thank you."

"No problem. You have an upset stomach or something?"

"No," he mumbles.

"Mhm." Smoker lets him have a minute. "So what was that then? Nerves?"

Zoro shakes his head. He turns to face him slightly, and holds out his hand, palm up. He catches
Smoker's confused look, and puts his arm out further to hand the earrings over. Smoker takes them,
albeit hesitantly, and asks, "These are your earrings aren't they? Why're you giving them to me."

He wants to scream. Instead, calmly, he says, "Tracking."

"Tracking," Smoker whispers the word under his breath as though repeating it will help him
understand it better. Then his breath hitches. "Crocodile used these to track you?"

He nods.

"So after I arrested Zala this morning, when she told me where you were ... she knew because of
..."

"Those. Was wearing 'em."

"Fuck." And Smoker shakes his head. "A while ago, when I had a chance to dig into their systems
in the club office, I found some program thing with a GPS and your name, but I just figured they
had your phone location or something, not that ..."

Zoro shrugs. "Don't have a phone." His chest feels tight.

This whole time. This whole time. How could I not have realized until now? So goddamn stupid.

Fucking-

"Well, then screw these." Smoker opens his window, tosses them out, and Zoro's heart pulls. "So
like I told you before, I'm just bringing you in to get your statement about last night. Even though I
recommend it, you don't have to talk about anything else if you don't want to, okay?"

"Okay."

"You got all your stuff?"

Too fast. It's too fast.

"Yeah."

"Alright. You ready?"

No. No I'm not fucking ready. Tears come to his eye, and he struggles to blink them away. This is
it. This is what you've been waiting for all these years. To leave and have no one be able to find
you or bring you back. Why does it feel so heavy?

He stares out the window at the apartment. Can't stop his lip from quivering.

Tries to ignore the piece of his heart that's crying. The part that's shrunk in on itself because- It
wants to ... to go back inside. To wait for Sir to come home and sleep in the warmth of our bed. But
I know that's not right. That's not right. This place is your prison, you're leaving. And I know that, I
know that, I do. But it's been so long, and it's all so sudden and normally I have a few weeks to
think about it and plan and get my fucking emotions under control and-

Leaving has never felt like this before.

"Zoro?"

"Hm?"

"You ready?"

He lets out a long breath. Relaxes his hands from the fists they had made in his sweats.

You're leaving.

They'll never be able to find you again.

And despite his warring emotions, he can't ignore the lightness of his shoulders- like a pressure
being released- at that thought.

You can't falter. Not now.

He nods.

"Let's go."

"And then what happened?"

The interview room is cold and small. Zoro tries to focus on the young man's questions but it's
already been an hour of them and he has long past reached his mental capacity.

"Zoro?" The man prompts again. He's a thin guy on the shorter side- a detective is what Smoker
had introduced him as. Long pink hair is kept out of his eyes by a colored headband and glasses up
on his forehead.

Right, question. You have to answer. What happened next?

"Choked."

"Who choked?"

"Mr. 3."

"Okay, that's Galdino, yes?"

Zoro nods.

The pink-haired man taps his pen against the notepad. "And what did he choke on?"

"My arms." He smiles, able to appreciate the moment now looking back on it. Got what was
coming to him the b-

"Right. So you choked him out?" He glances up for confirmation, and looks back at the paper upon
seeing Zoro's nod. "I know you must be tired, but I think we're almost done. I just need to make
sure I'm documenting everything accurately and with enough detail for your statement. Could you
continue?"

He shrugs. Just get through it. It's all fine now, anyway- Sir is safe and you're getting out of here.
No point in thinking too much about any of this. He finishes retelling the events of last night with
broken speech, a flat voice, and plenty more questions from the man.

Still, against all attempts to remain unaffected, there's emotions clogging his throat by the time he's
done and- no matter how much he tells himself to stop it- stop thinking- he finds them hard to
swallow past.

"Well, then that should be it." Pink-hair scribbles off something at the bottom of the page and
hands the few papers over.

Zoro just stares.

He shakes his hand a little and the papers flutter against each other. "Here, take them. Just need
you to read through everything. If it all sounds good, and I copied everything down how you
intended, you can sign at the bottom. And if you need me to change anything, you can let me
know."

He pushes the man's arm back- who looks confused- shaking his head. "Can't," he says, as
explanation.

"You can't what?"

"Read."

"You can't read or write?" His voice sounds incredulous and Zoro shrinks in his seat for a second
before straightening back up. Yeah, so what?

Zoro nods, though it's not entirely true. I know how. But if I tried to read this it would take me two
hours. And if he had me try writing it instead of himself? We'd be here all day.

Fuck, I can't even remember the last time I picked up a pen and wrote a fucking sentence.

"Okay, I'll be reading it out to you then. Listen through it once, then if you want me to reread any
part or change anything let me know."
He nods, and listens.

The man copied everything down accurately, so when he offers him the pen again, Zoro writes his
name at the bottom- with what he hopes shows only as minimal struggling- and hands the papers
back.

"Alright, perfect. I just have to go talk to my captain real quick and then I'll be right back to get you
on your way, okay?"

"Okay."

The pink-haired man smiles, putting the papers into a file and walking out.

After a few minutes the door opens again but it's Smoker that walks in this time. Along with an
older man he doesn't recognize. The man is tall- absurdly so- with short, spikey gray hair and a
gray beard to match. He doesn't introduce himself, just grabs a chair and sets it to the corner of the
room.

"Hey, Zoro."

Zoro nods at Smoker as he also takes a seat.

"You did great, kid. I'm real proud of you."

"Thank you," he ducks his head.

"I know it wasn't easy to go over all that again, but I appreciate your cooperation."

He says nothing. Can feel the old man's strong gaze boring into him.

"Now, I'm going to tell you something, and I'd like for you to keep an open mind about it, okay?"

"Ok."

Smoker takes a breath. "We talked to some of the employees at the club, and two of them- a
Marianna Goldenweek and a Mikita Valentine- are willing to speak out on Crocodile's illegal
dealings."

Miss Valentine and ... Miss Goldenweek?- that must be the red-haired lady. What does any of this
matter to me? Unless ... fuck, he's expecting me to speak out against Sir too.

I won't- I told myself already. I'm not getting involved in this shit.

Plus I don't know much about his businesses, except that he's involved in weapons dealings and
has loose connections in the drug trade. But I don't know enough to be able to give a fucking
statement about it.

Yeah, no. Fuck this.

"Now, we have enough info and evidence on his underground operations, but," Smoker continues,
"they specifically are willing to testify that Crocodile was a pimp. And there's video footage to go
with that accusation- years of it."

Years of videos? No, there were never cameras in the back rooms.

"The footage goes back for a while. It's from the hallway just outside the pleasure rooms, and
every night it shows men going in and out around every hour or so, and then you or another person
coming out of the room at the end, covered in- well ..."

Oh.

Oh.

They wanna charge Sir for ... but it's not- he told me it's not-

"Not illegal."

Smoker pushes forward, as though Zoro hadn't spoken. "What did you used to do in there, Zoro?"

"You know." He replies, because why is he acting like he doesn't? Like he didn't personally take in
the smell of sex under vanilla air freshener that night he visited and let me sleep on his shoulder.

"In your own words."

He shifts, uncomfortable in the chair underneath him. The large man in the corner who has yet to
introduce himself stays silent. Zoro shakes his head. "Not illegal," he repeats. "Not."

"Okay, if it wasn't illegal, why don't you tell me."

This feels like a trap. He knows already, he- Fuck, I can't tell him out loud. I can't be a part of this.

"You can tell me, Zoro. It's okay. The 'back rooms', right? What did you used to do in there?"

"Work," he says, avoiding the heavy gazes of the two men.

Smoker hums. "What type of work."

And he knows he's jumping around the answer, but he doesn't want to say it. Has always hated
voicing it aloud- this ugly part of his life. But it's the truth and he knows Smoker knows it's the
truth. Fuck.

There's a fancy word for it, starts with a 'p' but it's long and he can never remember it and- it's fine.
It's legal in this city. Sir won't get in trouble from you telling him. If he even fucking wakes up.
Fuck. He takes a deep inhale.

"Whore." He says quietly, plainly, finally. The word has been tossed at him countless times. It
bounces around his head on repeat on his bad days. What type of work? I'm a whore. A slut. And
knows it's all he's ever been. But not all I'll ever be.

"Are you familiar with the word 'prostitution'?"

That's it. He nods.

"So Crocodile was the one that had you working back there, right?"

Another nod, though he hesitates more with this one. This is a trap.

"And how long have you been a prostitute for him?"

"Since-" He snaps his lips shut. Don't.

Smoker sighs. "Well, from what you said earlier, I'm sure you're aware that prostitution is indeed
legal in this area. However, it is illegal for minors to be pimped out. And regardless of what you
want to tell me, those videos go back at least six years."

Shit.

Fucking-

"Want me to say?"

Smoker leans forward on his elbows, eyes holding a certain softness. "I don't want you to say
anything, kid. But you're hurting."

"I'm fine." He argues.

"I hope so." He leans back. "Anyway, I'm giving you the chance now, to go on record and say what
that bastard Crocodile made you do. I know he pimped you out. I know you two lived together and
that most of those markings on your body are probably from him. Him and all the other bastards
that he let rap-"

"Stop."

"Zoro."

His head is bowed. "Please." He digs his fingers into the meat of his covered, scarred thighs.

Sir wasn't bad all the time. Right? He ... Sir let me go to the gym and fight. He took me on
vacations. He fucked me nice. He wasn't-

And what about all the times he hurt you?

Smoker sighs.

"I know you've had a long day on top of everything that happened last night, so I won't pressure
you. Like I've already told you, you don't have to say anything, and especially with those two
employees, our case is solid without your testimony. But for your own sake, if you want to tell me
what he did to you- I'm here, and I'll listen."

What he did to me. What he made me do? Sure, Smoker knows a bit of it. But to tell him
everything? How would he look at me then.

Fucking slut.

Plus, no matter what he says, anything I say can still get Crocodile into more trouble, I know that.
And I won't do that to him, not after everything. He shakes his head.

There's a sigh, but he doesn't look surprised. "Okay, Zoro. That's your choice, and I'll respect it."

"Thank you," his voice coming out softer than intended.

"You don't have to thank me for anything, Zoro. Just, before I let you go, there's just one more
thing I want to talk to you about."

He stays silent. Go ahead.

"You're leaving tonight, right?"

He nods. That's the plan.

"And do you know where you're going?"

Anywhere. Somewhere far away from here. From them. "No. Wherever."

Smoker nods, like that's the answer he was expecting. "I want you to stay with me." He says, blunt
as ever.

What? He tilts his head. Did I hear him right?

"I want you to stay with me." He repeats.

"What?"

Smoker looks to the man in the corner, then back. "Everyone that kept you in that place, that made
you do the things you didn't want to, that made you hurt- they're all locked up now. And they're
going to stay that way for a long time. So, I understand if you want to leave to get a fresh start. But
if you're leaving because you're still trying to run away, I'm telling you there's no one for you to
run away from anymore."

He's floored. Caught with his mouth slightly open, and what the fuck do I even say to that?

"I want you to stay at my place, at least for tonight, and think about it."

"About what?"

"About not leaving," he says simply.

"But I don't- I can't, I ... I have to leave."

"But you don't, kid. That's what I'm saying. All the bad stuff you've been through, you don't ever
have to go through it again. And if you leave, yes, you'll be able to start new. But you'll also be
leaving behind the life you had outside of Crocodile and those goddamn rooms."

The life I had ... outside of Sir?

Luffy's smile spreads across the front of his mind. Then Law's and Blondie's. Ace's. Nami and
Usopp and Vivi and ... all of them. All my friends.

He's right, I'll be leaving them behind too. If I leave, I'll never see them again.

Well so what? I can't be so selfish. It's better for them anyway if I leave. They're so ... so good. And
I'm me.

I don't deserve them, I don't-

Fuck, I don't wanna think about this.

"You have people that care about you here, Zoro. You have friends here, and you have the gym,
and your fight nights at Franky's, and- your life outside of that abusive piece of shit. And like I said,
I get it, if you still wanna leave. But all I'm asking is that you hole up with me, just for the night,
and think about it. Because if you decide to stay, you get to keep working on what you have built
already instead of starting from scratch. And I can help you out here if you stay. Can help you find
a new job and a safe place to live. You can keep living your life."
Overwhelmed, his eye wells with tears. I've never ... never thought staying was an option. Never
had a reason to want to stay before.

Escaping was all I've had. All I've wanted and wished for all these years.

"Smoker, I-" his voice breaks.

"It's okay, Zoro. It's okay."

Stop it. Fuck, stop. Don't fall apart here. He wipes at his eye. Clears his throat, though he finds he
has no words to say.

If he's right ... if they all stay locked up ... then there's no one here to force me back to work in that
place. No one here to force me to do anything. That's all I had ever tried to escape from- not Sir
himself, but the things he'd make me do. If Smoker's right then ... I wouldn't be running from
anything- just my own fears. Fears that someone in this goddamn town will see me and recognize
me and know me for what I really am. Crocodile's whore.

All I've ever wanted was a fresh start. It's what Kuina wanted, too- what she promised to get for
the both of us.

Yeah, and then she died for you. Isn't following through on this- on leaving- the least you can do?

His thoughts are so much, too fucking much, and there's a sharp pain at his skull, and it's his hand,
and he's pulling firmly, desperately at his own hair.

I can't do this, can't think about this anymore. I was leaving, it was supposed to be so simple.

"Think about it like this- if you're leaving anyway, does it really hurt to stay one more day?"

He swallows around the lump in his throat.

Can I really stay here? Live here instead of running away?

So what if someone sees me for what I've done. Yes, I'm a whore. But I wanna be more than that-
I've been trying to be more than that my whole life.

Maybe this is the chance I've been looking for. Not to leave and start a new life, but to stay and
keep living this one. Maybe-

Fuck. He's right. It doesn't hurt to stay one more night and think about it.

"Ok." He says, words spoken with a soft finality.

"Okay?"

"I'll stay ... tonight 'n think." Then, because Smoker is opening his home to him, "Thank you."

Smoker doesn't quite smile but it damn near something close.

"You're a strong young kid, you know that?" The man in the corner finally speaks, voice deep and
steady but soft.

Zoro lets his head hang before addressing him, "Thank you, Mister."

"Oh, none of that Mister stuff now. You can call me Garp."
"This is my Captain," Smoker introduces. "Captain Garp."

Zoro nods, "Nice ... meet you, Mr. Garp."

The man sighs. "So I hear you're going through a tough time."

Zoro shrugs.

"It's okay to admit it, no shame in that. You've got that strong will, anyway, I can tell you'll make it
through."

He nods sharply, in acknowledgment and thanks. Why is this guy here?

"I wanted to introduce myself to you, because I believe you know my grandsons. My oldest was
worried about you so he came to see me."

Grandsons? Worried about me? He glances up quick to snatch another look at the man's face but it
doesn't remind him of anyone he knows. "Not sure, Mister. Sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure you know them. Delinquents the lot of 'em. Well, I guess Ace turned out alright-
even if he did choose firefighting over joining the police force. But jury's still out on Luffy."

Zoro gasps soft and unintended. This is Luffy's grandfather? The one that bought the ... fuck what's
the word for a big house? Mansion, right.

He's a fucking police captain?

Well, that's gotta be convenient at least with all the trouble Luffy's always in.

"Yeah, you know 'em. Anyway, listen."

Zoro nods, leaning forward slightly, the man's presence alone commanding his attention.

"Like Sergeant Smoker here said, you've got a lot of people to support you. And I want you to
know that I'll be one of them."

His breath hitches.

"You seem like a good kid, and I know you'll keep an eye out for Luffy. So if you need anything,
or run into any trouble-" He stands, and Zoro has to crane his neck up just to look at his
outstretched hand. "The department agreed to let me issue you a phone, since Sergeant said you
don't have one."

Zoro shakes his head, eyes glued to the phone in the palm of Garp's large hand. I can't accept this.
"Can't, Mister. Too much."

"I'm afraid I'll have to insist. Take it." He orders. Hesitant, Zoro does. It feels odd in his hands.
"You can use it for whatever you want, it's yours now, okay? And on it is my phone number. Like I
said, whatever you need, you call me."

"Thank you, Mr. Garp." His voice wavering only slightly.

Garp nods. "All the best, kid. You'll turn out just fine."

He walks out of the room, and now it's just him and Smoker.
"You about ready to leave, Zoro?"

He nods, then feels a certain pull in his bladder. "Bathroom?"

"Sure, it's just down the hall. One left, then the first door on your right. Meet me back here once
you're done and we can get going."

"Okay." He stands up and walks out of the room, repeating the directions over in his head. He
manages to find it after a couple minutes and he relieves himself quickly, dutifully ignoring the
image of himself in the mirror. When he exits he turns his head left to right, looking down the
hallway that stretches in each direction. How did I get here again? A right then a left? Or was it
two lefts then a right. Fuck.

He starts walking. It shouldn't be too hard. How many hallways can one floor have?

After a few minutes, he finds himself thoroughly lost. What was it- one left and a right, right? How
could I mess that up. But he can't even find his way back to the bathroom to reset. Maybe it was
down here? He turns onto another hallway, this one lined with bars. Did I pass this before? Fuck, I
don't remember. Maybe it's at the end of this hall.

He walks past a few cells, trying to mentally retrace his steps. I don't think I walked down here to
get to the bathroom before. Fuck, where did I-

"Is that you?"

He almost stumbles over his own feet at the speed with which he freezes. That voice. He turns his
head slowly- everything feels so slow all of the sudden. Meets yellow eyes.

"I thought I recognized that green hair."

His breath catches in his throat.

"It's been a long time, eh little rabbit?"

Get out of here. Move, just fucking, move. But his feet won't listen- they're rooted to the spot. His
whole body frozen, yet shaking, under the hawk-like gaze.

Mihawk sits casually at the back of the cell, one leg crossed over the other, observing Zoro as
though he's his next meal.

"Mihawk." He grits out, able to at least make his tongue move, even if the rest of his body has yet
to follow.

The man tuts. It's a condescending and disappointed sound all at once. "I thought you knew better
than that. It's 'Master' to you, remember?"

Zoro tries to bite something back but everything is too much. Get away from here. His lip is
trembling, so he clenches his teeth.

"I hear the only reason Crocodile," disgust drips off his tongue when he says the name, "is still
alive is because of you. You took a bullet for him." His eyes hone in on the gauze patching the side
of his head. "How touching."

He can't even move his head to respond.

"I hope you know, little rabbit, that I won't be staying in here very long. The police don't have
enough evidence to arrest me for anything. Even if they do, I won't be locked up for more than a
couple years. And once I do get out ..." His smile sharpens. "How's your scar treating you?"

Zoro clenches a fist at the front of his hoodie. Stop talking to him, move, move move.

"Oh, I do have a question," he uncrosses his legs and stands up. Stalks forward until he's pressed
against the metal bars. Zoro's back has found the wall behind him.

"Does Crocodile still own you? Because if not," he hums, and the sound makes Zoro shiver, "I'm
going to need a new plaything once I get out of here." His voice drops. He wraps a hand around one
of the bars. "And I'd love for it to be you."

"Zoro?"

He hears Smoker's voice distantly, but he can't make himself turn away from those eyes.

"You scream so pretty."

"Oi, shut it you piss poor maniac." Then there's a large body in front of him, standing between
them, and Zoro gasps out- the gaze holding him in place now blocked- body slumping against the
wall.

"Smoker," Mihawk says, voice filled with disdain.

Smoker turns around, body still blocking Mihawk from view. "Zoro, hey, you alright?"

He tries to nod, but he's still remembering how to breathe first.

"C'mon, let's go." Smoker wraps an arm around his shoulder. Zoro keeps his eye on the floor,
doesn't want to look up and accidentally meet that gaze again- be frozen in fear again. Weak, weak,
weak. Why couldn't you just fucking move?

Smoker helps him forward, and he regains his breath more and more with each step away from that
fucking cell.

A voice booms through the hall, just before they turn. "Until next time, little rabbit."

"Come on in, don't be shy."

Zoro nods, following behind Smoker's tall frame as they walk into the apartment.

It's a cozy looking place, a little messy, but inviting. The living room walls are a deep blue, and
there are some plants over by a window against the wall to the right. There's a few bookshelves,
with some of the books strewn across random surfaces of the place. A kitchen is off to the left and
straight ahead is a door which he's assuming leads to the bed and bathrooms.
"You can set your stuff down wherever." Smoker strips of his white overcoat and drapes it over a
beige side chair. "I'm gonna order us some dinner, you have any preferences?"

He shakes his head. He stands still, waiting, in the middle of the room.

Smoker chuckles from the kitchen. "Put your bag down, Zoro. Take a seat. Anything you want to
do, consider my permission already given, yeah? You don't have to ask me anything."

"Okay," he mumbles. He sets his bag down next to the light gray couch and slots himself in the
corner of it. The cushion is soft underneath him.

Smoker's voice sounds over rushing water as he washes his hands in the kitchen sink. "I'm sure
you're tired, so if you want to nap before the food gets here, I'll open up the couch for you- it's a
pull-out. I'd offer you the bed but my wife would kill me if I made her sleep on the couch." He pats
his hands dry on his pants.

"Wife?"

"Yeah," he smiles. Grabs a picture frame off one of the bookshelves. "This is my wife, Hina." He
hands Zoro the frame. It's a slightly grainy photo of Smoker standing outside of some kinda bar
with his arm wrapped around a tall, pink-haired woman. The picture must be from a while ago,
because Smoker's hair is still its old mint green in it and he's lacking his face scar. They're both
smoking, with prominent scowls on their faces. "That was one of our happiest nights out," he says
fondly. Zoro looks again at their downturned lips- happiest?- and shrugs internally. "Anyway," he
takes the frame, setting it back where it was. "I'm gonna go change and order the food, I'll be right
back."

Zoro nods as he disappears through the door.

Later, after they've eaten dinner and Smoker is about to turn in to go to bed, he blurts out the
question that has been on his mind since he first found out Sir wasn't dead this morning. "Is Sir still
okay?"

If Smoker is surprised at the question, he doesn't show it. He just gives him a sad look that
Zoro hates. I'm just asking. It doesn't mean anything, I just ... just wanna know. Just wanna ...
he's gotta be okay.

He sits next to Zoro on the couch. "Yeah. Yeah, he's still alright."

Relief floods through him. He's okay. He's still safe.

Smoker rubs the back of his neck. "Nurse from the hospital called a few hours ago, before we left
the precinct. Said he's awake now and kicking, but he'll need some time to recover before we can
take him to trial."

"Trial?"

"Yeah, in court. Unless he pleads guilty- which I doubt- we'll have to take him to court on the
charges."

Court. Court and then jail. Fuck.

Well, it's not like I was planning on ever seeing him again anyway.
He ignores the empty pit in his heart. He whored you out. Hurt you. All these years, you shouldn't
still fucking care about him.

Then why do I?

Smoker visibly hesitates, then, and Zoro's attention is brought back to him. "I want you to promise
me kid, that even if you decide to leave tomorrow, you won't try to go see him."

He says nothing. Focuses his eye on his hands, fisted in his lap.

"Promise me, Zoro."

I can't. I can't promise that. I know I shouldn't want to go see him, but I-

"It's not healthy for you."

I know that. Fuck, you think I don't know that?

"Well, I suppose I can't stop you either way. Just be safe, okay? Can you promise me that?"

"Yeah." He nods. "I'll be safe. Promise."

Smoker blows out a breath. "Thank you." He reaches his hand out and Zoro squeezes it. "Anyway,
I'm beat, so I'm gonna go sleep." He gestures for Zoro to get up. He does, and he helps move the
table as Smoker pulls the couch out into a small bed. "Try and gest some rest, kid. If you hear
someone coming in later, don't worry, it's just Hina. She's out with her friend Robin right now,
some type of ladies' night," he shrugs. "But yeah," he turns to the door, "think about it, get some
rest, I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," he says, voice only just higher than a whisper. He settles onto the couch mattress, thoughts
astray in every direction.

Fuck.

Am I really gonna stay?

He taps his foot against the concrete. It's shaking more from nerves than the cold.

His thoughts are surprisingly quiet, head clear in a rare moment of peace.

It's a few minutes before he hears the screeching of tires as the large bus brakes in front of the stop.

The doors swing open. "Last bus of the night." The driver yells through the open doors, engine still
running loud. The streets are empty otherwise, stars winking down at him knowingly.

Last bus of the night.

 This is ... Is this really it?

He shoulders his bag and stands up.

"Well? You getting on?"

Chapter End Notes

to whoever i promised that i wouldnt leave them on another cliffhanger im soryyy

also idk when im gonna be updating next got a lotta shit going on

hope yall liked it! like i said before theres lots of plot going on in these chapters so
sorry if it feels like a lot. obviously zoro is still going through it but hes got support its
just up to him now if hes gonna use it or not (and did yall PEEP garp lol it was nice to
write new characters)

lmk your thoughts in the comments !!

 if i tell you i love you, will you hear me?
Chapter Summary

just ... zoro meets w crocodile ... among lots of other things

Chapter Notes

tw for the beginning hospital scene, its always so easy to write their dynamic and i
hate it

enjoy loves !

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The elevator is cold as he takes it up to the sixth floor. He's hit with a burst of sounds when the
doors slide open on what the front desk lady downstairs had called the 'tele' unit. Fuck what room
did she say it was? He turns out of the elevator and walks to the nursing station.

There's two nurses sitting behind the large curved desk, though he spots more walking through the
hallways stretching in either direction. It's a few moments before either of them notice him.

"Can I help you?" The blonde-haired nurse looks up at him.

"Yes, please. Looking for ..." he clears his suddenly dry throat. "For ... Crocodile."

She raises her eyebrows, turns to the other nurse- an older woman with straight hair and weird
earrings. "Is he allowed visitors?"

The black-haired nurse shrugs. "No clue. Should be fine, though." She focuses her eyes on Zoro.
"What's your relation to the patient?"

Zoro shrugs, "He owns me."

The nurses exchange a look.

"What?"

Maybe they didn't hear. He repeats the statement.

"Yeah, yeah, no. That's what I thought you said. I-"

The weird earring nurse cuts off the blonde one, "You know what, that's alright. Go ahead- it's
down the hall on your left. Room 620."
A nod. "Thank you," and he starts walking.

"I-" He hears the blonde nurse from behind him. "Wrong way!"

He turns, furrows his brows. She just said it's down this hall.

"Your other left." And she points down the other hallway.

"Oh." He switches to walk in the direction her arm is pointing.

"It's the room with the officer in front of it, see her?"

He does indeed see the uniformed woman standing in front of a room further down. "Yes, sorry."

"No problem. We did lower his pain meds a little an hour or so ago so he should be pretty lucid if
he's awake."

Zoro nods, despite not knowing what that means. "Thank you," he repeats, and tries to hide his
limp as he strides down the long hall- keeping the officer in his sights lest he gets turned around
again. His legs are more than achy from walking the streets nonstop last night. His right leg, up
and down the old wound on his thigh especially, has been throbbing something fierce. And now
here you are- visiting the same person who sliced you up there in the first place. It's an ugly and
painful reminder of all the times Crocodile has hurt him. What am I doing here? The distance
closes between himself and the room. He passes another nurse at a computer station along the wall
that fixes him with an odd look.

This is a mistake, fuck, I should just turn around. I should-

"You here for him?"

His sore legs have already taken him to the room. Zoro looks up at the police officer standing
guard outside the door. Last chance. Last fucking chance to do what you were too scared to do last
night and just leave.

But I can't. Fuck it I can't. I didn't wander around for hours yesterday mentally beating myself up
about this just to not see him now.

He nods, slowly.

"Fifteen minutes is all you get, alright? You need anything, I'm right out here."

She steps to the side and opens the door.

"Thank you," and he tries his best not to brush past her as he walks into the room. The door shuts
behind him.

His eye immediately is drawn to the large hospital bed up against the wall on his right. He steps
forward before stopping himself. He settles instead against the wall a few feet across from the foot
of the bed. There's a sudden well of tears clogging his throat and he takes in the steady rise and fall
of Crocodile's chest where he's sleeping soundly on it.

He's really okay.

Fuck.

It's hard to breathe past the sudden pain in his chest.

He's okay.

His arm itches to reach out, to run a hand down the harsh planes of the man's face but he forces it
against his side, twists it into the fabric of his sweats as he blinks away the wetness in his eye.

He's wearing a light blue hospital gown. Neck heavily bandaged from where he was shot two
nights ago now. Only two nights ago. Shit. It hasn't even been that long since I saw him last, why is
this affecting me so much?

Maybe cause you thought he died, dumbass.

There's cuffs around both wrists, chaining them to the sides of the bed, and a few tubey lines poked
into the insides of his elbows.

Right, they arrested him. And after he's healed he'll go on trial, is what Smoker said. He'll go away
after that, he'll go away and- You really had to come and see him one last time, huh? Stupid
fucking loyal whore-

No. Stop it.

Stop it. I'm here already, I won't turn back. Fifteen minutes the lady said. Shouldn't waste a minute
of it. I feel bad to wake him but I want to just- wanna talk to him one last time.

Fuck- you know how that sounds right? You shouldn't even want to see him, you useless sl-

"Sir?"

He remains undisturbed.

"Sir?" He tries again, louder. "Sir, please." He swallows around the tightness of his throat and then
words rush out, unbidding. "Wake up. Needa talk to you, sir. Needa hear your voice again. I can't-"
Shut up, shut up, shut up. He drags his hands over his face, pulling at the short strands of hair that
fall over his forehead. The heels of his palms push heavy over his closed eyes. So goddamn weak.
You never should have come here.

" ... angel?"

He snaps his head up, arms immediately dropping back to his sides.

Crocodile stirs, eyes blinking open slowly. It takes him a second to get his bearings. Another to
focus his gaze. It settles on Zoro. "You're here." A small, slightly dazey, smile spreads across his
face, "My angel." His voice is hoarse but Zoro hears it all the same. It draws his eye closed.

I never thought I'd hear those words again. "Sir, I-" he chokes on a sob, emotions from the past
few days flooding through him and filling him up to his lungs, swirling around and searching for an
outlet.

"You're here," Sir repeats, smile settling.

He opens his eye. "You're okay," Zoro whispers out, still in disbelief. The white bandages stand
stark against the light tan column of his neck.

He nods, shrugging his shoulder. "Okay enough."

The sudden need to feel those steady arms around him- to place his head on the man's chest and
feel it rise- pulses through him like its own heartbeat. He ignores it. I can't. Ignores it and feels like
he's vibrating in place from the effort of restraint.

"You seem tired, Zoro." His eyes track down Zoro's body. From the sweat-damp hair and the
gauze taped above his ear, to the eye bags, and rumpled clothing.

He is tired. Exhausted, really. Barely standing on his feet, would be the most accurate. He shakes
his head, "I'm okay."

Crocodile sighs, sitting up more in the bed. "Come here."

And he moves forward without thinking. Catches himself after two steps.

Crocodile sees the halted movement, reads his hesitation. In that same, even tone, he repeats,
"Come here, angel."

Listen, you needa listen. He won't like having to say it again.

Wait no, stop. Remember. I can't- can't ... "Sir." He pleads. Don't make me feel your hands. To feel
your touch when it's kind. If I do, I might ... might forget all the times you hurt me. Might forget
and ... never want to leave. His right thigh pulses- a necessary reminder.

He hurts you. You're here to say goodbye, remember? Nothing else.

"It's okay, angel." His voice softens. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stop. "It's okay. Come here."

And it's too much- the pull to obey, his warring emotions- so he closes the distance between them
in a daze. Fists his hands in the bedsheets to stop himself from doing something stupid like
brushing them over Crocodile's cheeks.

"Is that my sweatshirt?"

He looks down at the soft hoodie, keeps his head bowed. "Yes, sorry." He mumbles.

"Don't apologize. My clothes have always looked good on you, anyway." He hears the smirk in
Crocodile's voice. Doesn't look up to see it. He clenches his fists tighter in the cloth. "You can
touch me. It's okay."

He shakes his head rapidly. "Can't." The word wavers on its way out. He's struck still. When was
the last time I ever told him no?

"Zoro." Crocodile's voice is hard steel, now.

"Can't, please, I'm-" You can do this. You can tell him. "I'm leaving." All the breath in his lungs
rushes out.

He's silent for a few moments. So long that Zoro dares a glance up. Crocodile is pinning him with
a dissecting look. "No," he says finally. "No, you're not."

"I-" He goes to protest. Is stopped by the sudden clank of metal on metal.

He looks down to see Crocodile jerk his arms against the cuffs. "Don't you fucking lie to me, now."

There's a live anger holding up his words and Zoro drags his eye back to Sir's chin. His lips are
curled, expression serious. Zoro tenses his shoulders on instinct.

"You're not leaving." He states plainly, as though it's an obvious fact. "If you were, you wouldn't be
here, talking to me."

Zoro hates that he's right. That he's able to read straight through him, as always.

"You were gonna leave, but you didn't. You came here, isn't that right?"

It's right, of course it's right. Last night the bus had come, and he was going to leave, but he ... it
came and he just stood staring, torn at the emotions that held him apart in that moment. He had
waved the bus driver away, then wandered the streets until deciding to come here, hoping to find
...

He considers lying for only a moment. He'll know. He'll know if you lie and it'll just piss him off
more. Zoro nods.

"So then why'd you come?"

Words get caught in his throat. He's not sure he'd know how to say it anyway.

I wanted to see you one last time. Didn't want my last memory of us to be you bleeding out in my
arms. Not like Kuina.

Needed to hear your voice again. To tell you goodbye.

"You could've left. Instead you came here. Tell me."

Zoro knows he can't avoid the question the second time around. "Wanted to ... needed to see you,
sir." The admission has the bedsheets ripping a little under his grip. Yet at the same time it allows
him to breathe. Mostly, though, it just makes the walls just look so perfectly fucking puncheable.
Weak. You've always been so goddamn weak.

The one time you could've actually left, but no- you couldn't just stay away.

"You 'needed to see' me."

His hands twitch. "Sir." It's a plea.

"You needed to see that I was okay, is that what it is?"

It's more than just that. Head down but shoulders up and steady, he nods.

"And now that you've seen me with your own two-" a soft smirk, "with your own eye, and you've
seen that I'm okay, what will you do?"

I don't know, I don't fucking know. It's too much. Hours of wandering last night, thinking about his
options, thinking about the whole goddamn situation, and all it did was make him more unsure
than when he started. I need to decide. I came here looking for a reason to- if I don't find one ...

"They're gonna lock me up."

Zoro nods. I know.

"I'd like to say that it's all going to be alright- I have gotten out of these situations before- but they
got us good this time."

He's right. Zoro remembers a couple years back the police had tried to search Sir's businesses and
arrest him but they came up with nothing. This time, Zoro knows, is drastically different. This time
the police were planned and ready and they took in everyone.

"Me, Daz, and Zala are trying to scapegoat Galdino," he spits the name, "the two-timing bastard- so
that should lighten things, but nothing is for sure yet. Did they talk to you already?"

He tilts his head.

"The police."

Oh. He nods.

"And what did you tell them?"

"Just Mr. 3, Mihawk, and Buggy."

"Nothing about the business, or what you do?"

"No," a mutter.

There's a soft hum. He closes his eyes for a long second. "Good. That's my good angel."

Zoro tries to tamp down his reaction to the words but he's not quick enough and his cheeks flame.

"I won't stay in jail." At the look Zoro gives him he continues, "No matter what, I won't stay put
away. I'd rather be a man on the run- free- than a man stuck in prison."

You can't just decide that. Escaping won't be so easy.

"If they let me out on bail, I'm hopping on a plane out of here."

Zoro doesn't meet his eyes. He hears the question in those words without it needing to be voiced.

Sir's arms rattle against the cuffs again and Zoro's fingers twitch. Don't do it, don't do it.

"I want you to come with me."

Fuck.

"Zoro," his voice is serious, now. "Leave with me."

And he never thought it would be Crocodile telling him this. The words too similarly echo Kuina's
from years ago.

'Leave with me, Zoro. We'll start new lives for ourselves- you'll be safe from all of this.'

All of this.

Everything he's made me do.

I can't leave with him.

"I know, there's a lot of uncertainty- but I ... I'm selfish. When I get out, I want you with me."
Why? Why do you still want me? "Sir, I don't-"

"Just think about it."

'Think about it', Smoker had said.

I can't, fuck that. Fuck this whole thing. Blood pounds through his skull. It's all too much goddamn
thinking.

"The hearing is in a couple weeks. If they put me out on bail, I'll go to Conti's restaurant at night-
you meet me there- and we can leave together."

I can't leave with you.

"Think about it."

He breathes out. Fuck. "Okay," he says finally, because what else is there.

"Good, now let me see you."

He tilts his head up from where it was staring down at the floor.

"I'll miss you in the meantime, handsome."

His fingers twitch in the sheets again, he just wants- Fuck. No. He unclenches his hands forcefully.
"Me too," he admits, whispers it like a secret.

"Touch me, angel. You can touch me." He repeats his words from earlier, all sternness and anger
having now bled out of his tone.

He doesn't fight it this time. Lets his hand rest on the side of Sir's neck, just over the bandages
there. The action soothes his racing heart. And something settles in his chest when Sir smiles.
"Does it hurt?" He asks.

Crocodile shrugs, and Zoro's hand slips to his upper chest. "It's dull," he says with a sigh. "I think
they got me on some strong stuff." His eyes jump up to Zoro's hair, though they're obviously tired
and starting to droop. "How's your head? I'm sure that hurts too."

"It's fine." The pain has been a constant for the past two days, but today it's overshadowed by his
heavy thoughts. Yeah, it hurts. Nothing I haven't dealt with before.

"Thank you, for that night. I don't think I would've made it out of there if you hadn't pushed me out
of the way."

He nods. "Of course, sir."

His thumb rubs back and forth over Crocodile's chest. Eyes start to drift close. "Anyway, I'm ...
gettin real tired here, angel. Might go back to sleep."

"Okay, rest."

"Yeah. Yeah, alright." His eyes are fully closed now and he hums as Zoro's hand lifts. "Remember
what I said."

"Okay, sir."
He steps back from the bed, watching the rise and fall of the wide chest once more.

"My angel." It's no more than a sleep-ridden mumble, but Zoro catches it anyway.

He breathes in deep, out again.

Zoro's shaking, though the feeling is distant. "I'm leaving," he whispers in the quiet of the room-
words blanketed by the quiet beeping of machines. "I'm leaving," he says again- a reminder to
himself- and the rest of the words choke him at the throat. He forces them out in a long exhale-
might be the last time he ever says them- that feels too much like a goodbye. "Love you, sir."

The front desk is unmanned when he walks into the gym. He scans his card and walks to the locker
room.

Before he can decide what to change into, he sits on one of the long benches in there, puts his head
in his hands and just breathes.

You're leaving aren't you? You're leaving. Why are you here?

I don't know, I just- that's- the whole reason I went to go see Sir. Was looking for a reason to leave,
was looking for- he gave me nothing.

Well it was a dumb idea to go to him anyway. You should've just left last night.

Yeah, but-

No.

No buts. You went there to say goodbye. Hoping he'd shout, get angry at you, something, anything
to tell you why you shouldn't stay. To give you another reason why you can't.

Instead he was sweet, and nice, and So What? He's nice and sweet a lot of the time. He also is
mean and violent a lot of the time too. He's injured and handcuffed right now, did you really expect
him to do anything to you? You really thought he would fucking ... so goddamn stupid, how could
you be so goddamn-

"I don't know!"

He gasps, hearing the echoing of his own voice on the walls, and realizing he had shouted the last
thought aloud. A quick glance around reveals a, thankfully, still empty room, but- Fuck. Fuck.
Relax, deep breaths. He does, slowly. Stares unseeing at the lockers in front of him.

I don't know. I just- there's so many reasons to stay, I thought maybe ... if he did something to me
one last time, got angry, or- or if he hurt me again, I'd be reminded why I have to- I'd be given a
reason to leave.

Fuck.

He sighs.
You already have a reason- years of reasons. Just look at your fucking body. And it already feels
like betrayal to stay, doesn't it? Betrayal to Kuina, to yourself ... leaving is all you've ever wanted.

It's not safe for you here.

It is. It is though, who could come after me? Sir? Mihawk? I can hold my own. I can protect
myself, I can, and I just wanna ...

Yeah.

Yeah, I know.

Don't wanna restart anymore.

You do have friends here. Support.

Wanna keep living the life I already have.

If you really want to stay ...

You're thinking too much, stop thinking. It's simple.

I can make it through this. I'll be fine.

He pushes himself onto his feet.

It's gonna be just fine.

A man Zoro recognizes as a gym-regular walks past, flashing a quick smile. Brief, Zoro returns it.
I'll stay. I'll stay just these next few weeks with Smoker, try to find new work and an actual place to
live. If I can find those, I'll stay. And if I don't find either by the time Sir gets out ... then leaving is
all I'll have left. Whether it's by myself or with him, I'll decide later.

"Fuck, alright." Get to work. No more thinking about any of this. His bag gets thrown into one of
the lockers and he decides to just work out in the outfit he's already in. It's the same hoodie- Sir's
hoodie- and sweatpants he's been wearing since yesterday and, shit, I'll definitely have to wash
these later.

If he's staying, he's still got a scheduled bout coming up at Franky's, so he can't afford to slack off.
He walks out to the gym floor and does some stretching to get that achy feeling out of his right
thigh. The gym has missed him for a couple days now so he throws himself right in. Training has
always helped to center him, after all. It doesn't fail this time either.

His mind starts to quiet as he starts skipping with the rope and practicing grappling techniques.
Then he fully loses himself in bag work. After about an hour he focuses on arms, before using the
speedbag and then working on core and neck strength- thoughts amazingly few and far between.

By the time he's sweaty, gross, and finishing up his 6 mile run on the treadmill, his head is
absolutely silent.

It's a familiar feeling- one that he has come to seek and one that he appreciates properly. He does
now, taking deep breaths as he comes down from his exerted state. Thoughts a blank slate.

He stretches out on the mats in the back. For what feels like the first time in days he's able to
breathe easy.
Okay. You're gonna be okay.

Whatever happens, you'll figure it out. He flexes his bruised knuckles. You always do.

Still a little soaked through with sweat, he lowers his arm from where he just knocked. Steps back
once and then waits.

I left without saying anything last night, hopefully he'll still be willing to take me-

The door swings open.

He's met with cigarette smoke, pink hair, a scowling face, and sunglasses. It's quite a lot to take in.

The woman is tall- definitely has more than a few inches on him- and she peers down with an
unbothered look. He recognizes her from the photo Smoker showed him yesterday. His wife. Fuck.

I left before she came in last night, so she probably has no clue who I am.

Shit. She definitely won't want me here.

"Well?" She asks, one hand on her hip, the other taking a long drag on her cigarette.

He lowers his head and looks at the floor in front of her. "Roronoa Zoro, Miss. Wanted to see
Smoker?"

"Eyes up, hun." So he looks back up, eye focusing somewhere around her chin. She sighs. "You
can call me Hina, alright. Do you know who I am?"

Zoro nods. She just looks at him expectantly, fixing him with a stare that makes him stutter around
his next words. "His wife, Miss Hina."

Hina makes a dismissive sound. "Good enough. Well he's at work right now. You want to come
in?"

His eye widens as he processes her words. Brows pinch and rolls his shoulders out. She's gonna let
me in? She doesn't even know who I am.

Another sigh, "Do you have anywhere else to go, hun?"

He thinks of Luffy and Blondie's place. No, they've done too much for you already. Are you really
to burden them with yourself again? Sure, you're not leaving anymore, but you can't stay with
them. He shakes his head.

"I thought not. Smoker should be back in a couple hours, and he was worried sick about you this
morning. Come in." She ushers him through the door. "Said you left without a word, so he'll be
glad to see you're alright."
Zoro follows behind her. "He ... told you?"

"Yeah. What you thought I just let in any random guys that know my husband into my house?"

"No?" He says, uncertain. It's proving very difficult to get a read on this woman's tone.

"Exactly." She's busying herself with something in the kitchen. Her eyes have been focused on him
the whole time though. "So where did you go? He told me there would be a green-haired man
sleeping on the couch when I came home last night- and then I came and you weren't there."

"Couldn't sleep," he says, knows that he's not really answering her question.

She hums.

"You look uncomfortable. Want a change of clothes?"

He drops his arms down from where he was fiddling with the collar of the sweaty hoodie around
his neck. "Sorry."

A tsk. "I didn't say I minded, I just asked if you wanted a change of clothes. We have a shower too,
all yours, if you want to wash off some of that sweat." She steps out from behind the kitchen
counter and walks over to him.

He doesn't move. It might be nice to get into something clean and dry. Plus with everything going
on I haven't showered in a few days. She stands in front of him, still puffing on her cigarette,
waiting for an answer.

"Okay."

"Great. Follow me," she walks over to the door in the living room and it opens to a bathroom with
doors on either side. "I'll grab you a shirt and some shorts from Smoker, okay? You got socks, a
change of underwear?" He nods, gesturing to the backpack on his shoulders. "Alright, just a sec."
She walks through the door on the right which he assumes leads to the bedroom. After a minute she
comes back, small set of clothes in hand. "They should fit you alright. It gets really hot in here
during the wintertime so that's why I grabbed these, but if you want something warmer just let me
know, yeah?"

He nods again, knowing full well he won't. She's already letting him in her house and giving him
clothes, he won't so ungratefully ask her for new ones- no matter how uncomfortable being without
long-sleeves might make him.

Once she's out of the room, he strips out of his hoodie and sweatpants, placing them off to the side.
He uses the bathroom, then peels off the gauze above his ear. Looking at himself in the mirror
seems like it might take a lot out of him, so he doesn't- just finishes stripping, turns on the water
and jumps in. It's cold but a nice pressure, and it warms as he washes himself. It also stings against
his bullet wound. In an effort to not waste too much, he only stays under the spray as long as it
takes him to clean his body and wash the blood and sweat out of his hair. He's dressed and out of
the bathroom before he knows it.

He finds Hina on the couch, smoking a new cigarette. She has regular glasses on now, a book in
her hand, and her legs up on the table. Zoro shifts, anxious, on his feet. She doesn't look up. "I
ordered us some dinner, hope you like Middle Eastern food."

He nods, doesn't move.

"Smoker should be coming in about thirty minutes. He'll pick the food up on his way. I already let
him know you're here."

A sigh. "Come sit down, hun." She gives a vague gesture to the couch cushion beside her.

He follows, setting at the edge as she continues reading. The silence stretches. After a few page
turns she shuts her book and faces Zoro. A screen of smoke hides her expression. He waits for it to
dissipate, and it does- clearing for just a second before she's puffing out more. Zoro gives up trying
to read her face altogether.

Long seconds pass. Through the smoke he can tell she has barely blinked from her steady staring.
She is turned to him, though she still hasn't actually said anything since she set her book down and
it's ... unnerving. And she's not someone Zoro is fighting by any means, but he finds himself
having to liken their current position to when he's staring down an opponent, in order to remain
unflinching under her gaze. Is she waiting for me to say something?

The smoke between them finally clears and she leans over to put her cigarette out in the ashtray on
the table.

Fuck, I didn't thank her for letting me in. Or letting me shower. Or giving me a change of clothes.
Shit, shit, shit, shit. That's probably what she's been waiting for you fucking idiot.

He blurts, "Thank-"

"You know," she muses, effectively cutting him off. "I think I recognize you from somewhere."

Zoro freezes.

"I once met a young boy in a bar"

Fuck, no.

She definitely won't let me stay here if she knows I'm a whore. But I don't remember her from the
back rooms though, I don't-

"I think I was walking to the bathroom, and on the way he came out of some type of storage room,
arm fully broken from where something heavy had fallen on him." Oh, jeez- that?

She glances down at his right arm. It's covered in scars and burns from the years, and visible under
all of them is a long surgical scar on the inside of it. "He had green hair- like yours- though he
didn't have that," she mimics a line over her left eye, "and the thing I remember most is that he
wasn't crying." She shakes her head, as though she's in disbelief still to this day. "His arm was bent
in two down the middle and he wasn't crying. The only time he said anything to me was when I
called the ambulance and he told me not to. Someone wouldn't like it, he had said- though I forget
who."

"Sir." He answers the subtle question. Because Crocodile had drilled that into him since he was
little- no hospitals, no police. 'I'll never hurt you more than you can handle, or more than you
deserve.' He can almost hear Sir's voice in his head. And if it was someone else, or something else
that hurt him, he was always to come to Crocodile directly and Sir would patch him up himself.

"So it was you."

Zoro shrugs. It's nothing to hide. "Long time ago." To be honest, he completely forgot about
breaking his arm until she brought it up. It's probably the least eventful way he's ever gotten hurt-
though he does remember going to the hospital then for one of the only times in his life. But it was
way long ago, he knows, if she said it was back before he lost his eye.

Hina hums, leaning back into the couch. "A long time ago, huh. You definitely seem to have been
through a lot since then." And he doesn't need to look to know she's cataloguing his visible skin.
Only a quarter of it is showing- short-sleeved shirt and shorts covering the brunt of his marks-
though even with just his neck, forearms, and short expanse of legs from shorts to socks is visible,
he'd prefer she saw none of it at all.

She pulls out another cigarette. Contemplates something. Then, "Do you smoke?"

He tries not to show his surprise at the question. Do I smoke?

Not in years.

"Ah, a past smoker then. You're young for that," she comments. "Well do you want one?"

He shrugs. He had never sworn off smoking the way did alcohol. Knows it was his drunkenness,
not the cigarette he followed those men out for that night, that made him not easy but easier to hold
down and ra-

Stop it. "Later?"

"Sure," she says casually. "I'll be at work tomorrow. Both of us will be."

He cocks his head.

"I assume you're staying the night, since you didn't yesterday." And leaves it at that as though that's
an explanation.

"I-" His brows furrow. "Want me to leave tomorrow?" Is the conclusion he draws, because why
else would she be mentioning that she and Smoker won't be here.

She puffs out smoke, raising a clean eyebrow. "Is that what I said?"

A shake of his head.

"I'm telling you that we won't be home just that way you're aware- you know, in case you wake up
to an empty place."

Oh. Okay.

"You're welcome to do what you'd like while you're gone, make yourself food or order in, or go
wherever you'd like, okay? And if Smoker didn't already tell you, you can stay here as long as you
need, hun."

He nods, wonders how much Smoker told her about his situation for her to be so trusting of him- a
too big, too scarred man with bruises collaring his wrists. "Thank you."

She picks up her book again.

"Work?"

"Are you asking if I'm reading this for work?" She flips it open to the page she left off on.

His head shakes back and forth. He gestures to her, keeping his hand as close to his body as
possible. "Your work."

"I'm a prosecutor for the DA's office."

"Ah." He nods, uncomprehending.

"That basically means a lawyer," she clarifies.

"Oh," he gets it now. "That's ... good?"

She shrugs, "I could be doing worse things," and sends him the first sly smile he's seen from her.
Picking her book up off her lap she asks, "Would you like something to read?"

"Not good at- don't know how."

"I could teach you," she takes his answer in stride, but he shakes his head. "Well, I'll read to you
then, unless you have any objections?"

"No." Whatever you want to do.

"Alright," she taps her cigarette onto the ashtray. Places it at the corner of her mouth. "This is a
mystery novel. It's called 'Devil in a Blue Dress'. I'm already a few chapters in, if you'd like me to
explain what's going on?" At his blank look she nods, "I'll just get into it then."

She takes a deep breath, then puffs out the inhaled smoke.

"'When I finally made it back to my house, on 116th Street, it was another beautiful California
day'." She starts, voice slow and even. "Big white clouds sailed eastward toward the San Bernadino
mountain range. There were still traces of snow on the peaks and there was the lingering scent of
burning trash in the air.'"

All his exhaustion from the past few days catches up with him as she reads. It's a few minutes, right
around when a man named Mouse is introduced in the story, before his eye drifts closed. He tries
to open it again but the lid is too heavy to keep it that way for long, and his whole being aches to
melt into the couch. Relax. Smoker's coming soon.

You're safe here. He forces his eye open one last time. Hina keeps reading in that same, steady
voice and all his thoughts blur.

"'In my mind he had such power that I felt I had to do whatever he wanted'."

His eye falls closed and this time he doesn't fight it.

"'But I had dreams that didn’t have me running in the streets anymore ...'"

Keys jingle.

He jolts in place, eye snapping open. Looks around blearily. There's a steady sound from his left
and he turns to see Hina still reading out of the book, voice lowered to a softer tone now. Right, you
fell asleep. The sound of the front door opening grabs his attention and he's reminded of why he
woke up in the first place.
Smoker walks in, shoulders tense and tired. He doesn't smile, but his eyes soften when they see
Hina and Zoro seated on the couch.

"Hey," he greets, slinging a worn messenger bag off his shoulder and setting it, along with some
plastic bags, next to the door. Hina has paused in her reading. Zoro stands, rubbing at his eye. It
still feels heavy with a need for sleep- the maybe twenty minutes he had napped just now doing
nothing to quell it. He reaches his arm out. Smoker, unthinking, hands him his coat. And belatedly,
even though he had reached for it, Zoro realizes that he's not home and so he has no clue where to
put it. Smoker catches the uncertainty in Zoro's expression and curses himself. "Shit, I'm tired-
wasn't thinking." He takes his coat back and walks past him to lay it over the back of one of the
side chairs. "Sorry about that, kid. You don't have to put my coat up when I come in though, I got
it. Don't worry."

Zoro nods, confused, but still makes a mental note- Smoker likes putting his own coat away when
he comes in.

He walks over to Hina, leaning over her on the couch and Zoro turns away to give them privacy.
There's words whispered behind him and then, "You hungry, kid?" He turns back.

They're both looking at him with a similar expression that he can't quite place. Very. He just
shrugs, eye on the floor.

"Here, why don't you grab the food from over there and I'll set the table, okay?" Hina points to the
plastic bags Smoker had brought in. Zoro nods, already moving to get them.

Another hushed conversation is had between the two. Smoker has yet to say anything negative
about Zoro's presence but he's holding his breath. He brings the bags of takeout over to the kitchen
counter and Hina joins him after a moment, setting down some placemats. Smoker has disappeared
past the bathroom door. "You want anything to drink?"

She unpacks the food, setting it out onto the table.

"Just water," and he notes which cabinet she takes the cups out of.

"He's just went to change and then he'll join us, I ordered a chicken one for you, is that okay?"

There's two shawarma wraps on the table and one bowl. Two days in a row they've ordered food
for you. He nods, holding back emotions. "Thank you, Miss Hina."

"You don't need to thank me. As long as you enjoy, that's all that matters." She sits in front of the
shawarma bowl and gestures for him to sit in front of the wrap next to her. He does, though he
waits until Smoker comes back to start eating. Once they're all settled in around the table, Zoro
takes a bite. The food is amazing, and he only realizes how hungry he was when he looks down
and finds his plate empty all too quick. Smoker and Hina are still eating on either side of him.
"Thank you," he says, and catches a mumbled you're welcome from them both. He keeps his head
down, only lifting it slightly to sip at his water, while they finish.

It's a relatively quiet atmosphere. Smoker recounts his day to Hina, who does the same in return
afterward. Zoro can't help but feel like he's intruding on them so he stays silent, lets their words
blend into an unrecognizable stream of sound. A hand taps the table in front of him and he snaps
out of it. They've both finished their food and are getting up.

He stands with them, grabbing their dishes before they can and quietly washing them despite Hina's
protest.
"I got it, Zoro. You don't have to wash those, just go sit down."

He doesn't move though. They got him food, the least he can do is help them clean up. "Few
dishes."

She sighs. "Fine, but that's it, okay? Then you come sit."

He nods, finishes them in a couple minutes and then joins them on the couch. Hina is on the far
end, closest to the front door. Smoker sits in the middle, his large arms each spread across the back.
Zoro is careful to put as much distance between them and himself as possible. The tv is on- playing
some show he's never seen before and doesn't have much of an interest in.

After a few minutes Hina gets up to make a pot of coffee. Smoker turns to him, one arm holding a
cigar to his lips now, the other still draped on the back of the couch. "I hear you visited Crocodile
today."

His body stiffens. His gaze bores into the floor. Fuck, the one thing he asked you not to do. Fuck,
fuck, fuck. He found out, of course he found out, he's a fucking cop- did you think you could hide it
you idiot?

Maybe this was all just a build-up. The food, the letting me stay. I disobeyed the only order he
gave me. Wait, no. He said yesterday for me to just be safe. That's right, he said even if I go see Sir
to be safe, and fuck, I mean ... I'm still here ain't I? I'd say that's safe enough.

If Smoker sees the rapid mix of thoughts Zoro's going through, he doesn't mention it. "What did he
tell you?"

Hina has rejoined them on the couch, passing a mug of coffee to Smoker and keeping one for
herself. They're quite a sight sitting next to each other, both with a cigar or cigarette in one hand
and coffee in the other.

"Nothing," he says, aiming to make his tone as casual as possible.

All it gets him is a 'really' look in return.

"Nothing important," he rephrases. Though Sir's words still pound through his head. 'When I get
out, I want you with me.'

Smoker hums, puffing on his cigar. "He didn't tell you any of his plans?"

Zoro shakes his head, mouth sealed shut. Conti's, Sir had said, if he gets out meet at that old Italian
restaurant and we'll leave from there. But he can't tell Smoker any of that.

He doesn't want to ruin anything for Sir. Maybe worse yet, deep down, if he does decide to go- to
leave with Sir- he doesn't want there to be anyone to stop him.

"Did he hurt you?" The question is asked in the same easy way as the others, but he notes the
tightened grip Smoker has around his mug. Hina observes silently.

"No," he finds his voice a whisper. "Handcuffed, he couldn't ..."

He trails off, but the pair is already nodding and Zoro breathes a sigh of relief before a thought
strikes him. "I- can I still-"

A head tilt signals him to continue.

"Can I still stay?" There's surprised looks. Shit. "J-just for a few weeks. Promise." He says, earnest.

"Yeah, I- Of course, you can stay, Zoro." The response is immediate. It comes from Smoker,
though Hina nods her agreement behind him. "I want you to just relax a little this week, get used to
being in a new place. I can get some of your stuff from the old apartment too, whatever you need.
But you're welcome here, always," he says, words echoing Hina's from earlier. "I wouldn't have
offered you to come here if I wasn't expecting you to stay, Zoro. You understand?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"Good." A glance to Hina. "Anyway, next week- if you want- I can also help you start looking for
a new job."

Right, a job. He had only thought on it a little, but he knows he needs to find one so he can afford a
new place. Sure, he has money saved up, but it won't be enough to last him more than two months.
What am I even gonna work as? Too fucking stupid to do anything that makes a lot of money.

Guess I could be a bartender again, just as long as- he holds in a shudder. As long as I never have
to work as a backroom wh-

"Don't worry about it right now, hun. Just relax and take it easy for a few days."

That's Hina, and he doesn't want to lie to either of them but still, he nods. I can't wait a week. I'll go
out tomorrow and start looking. Anywhere that'll take me.

"You look tired."

Zoro shrugs, points back to Smoker who just chuckles, "Yeah, I guess I probably look tired, too."
He points to the shirt Zoro's wearing, "Is that comfortable or do you want something else to sleep
in?"

Zoro looks down. The shirt fits nicely, just a bit of give around his shoulders where Smoker's frame
is wider, and the lower half of the shirt is loose and long, folding around his waist and reaching to
his mid-thigh. The shorts have a similar fit, tighter around his legs but reaching long- just past his
knees. He shakes his head. "'S good." And though he'd prefer something long-sleeved, he won't
voice it.

"Kind of long on you, no?" Him and Hina send him a similar smirk.

He definitely does not pout. He does huff a bit. "You're like 6'10, Smoker."

"I know, I know. Just teasing," he blows out a plume of smoke on a laugh.

"Thank you, again." He says, suddenly, the words bursting out of his lungs. He never thought he'd
be here. Away from home, staying with an old sparring partner and his wife.

"We wanna help you, hun. You deserve a future. To live the life you want, and achieve your
dreams."

He breathes in deep, blinking past the tears in his eye.

Smoker holds out a hand and Zoro takes it. "You're a good kid, Zoro. A good kid."
 .

Chapter End Notes

smoker and hina *sigh* definitely a needed support for our struggling guy

so zoro officially decided to stay !! (unless smth maybe definitely potentiallyyyy

happens w/crocodile in the future which i wont tell yall until it comes time for that tho
)

i think i like how this chapter came out but as always lmk what yall thought ! even the
smallest things you notice i love reading em

ik i took a minute to update this one but thats cause i have another chapter ready after
this one ! will probably post it later tonight if not tomorrow ! have a good day yall
<333
 these eyes are so heavy (i refuse to drag my feet)
Chapter Summary

zoro is tired- he doesnt wanna think abt why- but hes making it through

ft. some strawhats being introduced for the first time, the curly cook, and istg its not
another cliffhanger

Chapter Notes

sorry for being a lying liar yall ik i was supposed to have this posted a few days ago
but i got distracteddd. anyway, i barely checked over this but enjoy !!!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"Roronoa-bro!" A booming, light-pitched gravel of a voice shouts from behind him. He turns as
people brush past him on either side on their way out.

The lights have just turned back on.

He was the last match of the night, and ended it quick with a series of combos and a first round
knockout. His opponent was a taller heavyweight with ghostly pale skin, long curly hair, and a
now swollen face.

Franky- the owner of the place- walks up to him. "You had a great match!" He rolls the 'r' and
sticks out a thumbs-up. "Good job with the KO, the crowd always goes crazy for those."

"Thank you."

It's the first time he's ever spoken to the man. Normally Sir would talk to him about scheduling him
in for bouts, but with Sir gone-

"I hear Mr. Crocodile got busted, huh?" He slaps a hand on Zoro's shoulder.

"Uh ... yeah." He drags his eye down the arm on him, rests his gaze on the sharp butt of the man's
chin. If he senses Zoro discomfort at the touch, he doesn't show it- hand even digging in a little
more.

Zoro quickly shoulders it off, putting a step of distance between them.

"Want what?"

Franky smiles as though nothing happened. "Aw, come on. You don't have any juicy details for
me?" His smile is wide. There's a danger behind it, Zoro's sure. "Didn't you use to work for
him? Live with him, even?"

He shrugs at the suggestive tone, unwilling to really tell this man anything.

"Well that's no fun." He pushes his sunglasses up off his face, lets them rest on his bed of spiky
blue hair. "Anyway, why don't you come with me a minute, I got some business wanna talk to you
about."

Business? I already got my fifty buck purse of the night. What other business could there be?

But Franky's already walking away through the crowd of people and past the cage. Fuck. He
adjusts the gym bag over his shoulders and strides after him. Franky turns down a dim hallway and
walks through the first door. Zoro, highly wary, follows.

The room is just as dim, with only a small fluorescent light in the corner. There's tools and large
scraps of metal everywhere. It looks like if a junkyard threw up.

Franky drags up two crates and sets them in the middle of the room. He sits on one, gesturing the
other for Zoro.

Zoro stays standing.

Undeterred, Franky starts, "A couple years ago, you won the Intercity Golden Gloves tournament."

Zoro nods, though he's confused why it's being brought up at all.

"You were, and are still, the youngest to ever do it."

"Yeah." And?

Franky clasps his hands together. There's large stars tattooed on the outsides of his forearms. "Then
you disappeared, didn't see you here for about a year until a few months ago when Mr. Crocodile
came around saying you'd be fighting again."

Zoro sighs, scratching distractedly at the inside of his left wrist. Did I really follow him here just so
he could tell me facts about my own life? Yeah, Sir made me stop fighting for a year.

"What happened in that year gap, bro? Why'd you stop?"

I didn't stop, but Sir-

I just ... I screwed it up, like the fucking screwup that I am. After I won, I went ahead and pissed
Sir off with an offhanded comment, made him take away the one thing I enjoyed doing- the one
thing I lived for.

It's fine. You're fine now.

He still let you go to the gym during that year off.

Then he let you start fighting again after Mihawk. And now-

Now he's going to jail, and he has no control over you at all.

Right? Right.
"Well?"

It's a dumb question anyway.

"Nothing."

He hums, "You don't wanna tell me, huh? Bummer, bro."

Didn't he say he wanted to talk business? You know what, what the fuck am I doing here right
now? I need to go sleep. Screw this. Zoro moves to leave.

"I was going to let you know though ..."

Zoro pauses by the door.

Franky leans forward, arms on his knees. "There's another tournament coming up, if you're
interested."

Zoro turns back around.

Takes in a deep breath.

"Golden Gloves?"

"Yeah, same one you did last time. Now, I know- whoever he was to you- Mr. Crocodile won't be
there to support you this time." He stands. Towers over him even with the distance between them.
"So I wanted to offer my support."

What?

"The Cutty Flam," he gestures to the air around him. "Would be your sponsor."

Sponsor? I don't need a goddamn sponsor. I already have all my gear, what else do I need except
that, my hands, and my ambition?

"No."

A laugh is belted out. "You're hilarious, boxer-bro. You didn't even think about it!"

Yeah, cause I don't need to.

But for some reason, Franky is still saying something. "... and I have connections. If you let me
sponsor you, I can make sure there's a scout or two at each of your matches. It'll help your chances
of getting recruited to fight for one of the bigger organizations."

Recruited huh?

He has always meant for big things- knows he'll get there eventually. If there's another tournament
coming up, it is a good way to get my name out there.

But fuck that, I'll get my name out on my own.

I'll do the tournament by myself. And if no scouts show up, that just means I didn't fight well
enough for them to.

Screw Franky's 'connections'. Why is he wanting to help me anyway? "What do you get?" He asks.
It must be something. There's gotta be some benefit for him signing me up, otherwise he wouldn't
be offering it.

Franky's lip quirks, like he wasn't expecting Zoro to catch on. "Well, if you let me register you, and
put this place down as your sponsor, then if you win, I'd just get a small percentage of the prize
money." There it is. "You'd still be getting most of it though, boxer-bro, so you don't have to worry
about that."

"Wasn't worried," he says with a shrug. I couldn't give two shits about the prize money. Yeah, it's
always nice to have- but I've never fought for the sake of money before and I'm not starting now.
Not to mention things are bound to get more complicated if I include him as a sponsor. He starts
walking out. "Thanks, though. 'M good."

Franky follows him, with surprisingly light steps for such a big man.

"You wanna think about it at least? It's a good offer, bro."

Zoro shrugs again. "No."

The main floor has mostly cleared out now. Just a few men working to clean up are left- one
folding up chairs and tables, the other taking down the cage. Crocodile told him once what type of
business the Cutty Flam was, when it wasn't hosting fight nights- though he can't for the life of him
remember now. He supposes he could ask Franky, but that would require actually talking to
Franky, and he thinks he's had enough of that for one night. He really just wants to get back to the
apartment and crash.

"You wanna keep fighting here?"

He turns back to Franky, eye wide. Is he gonna threaten to stop putting me for fights if I don't
agree to let him be my sponsor?

"Nothing like what you're thinking- I'm just asking if I should put you down for next week's fight
night or not."

Zoro breaths a quiet sigh of relief. "Yes. Yeah, please."

"And all the ones after too, right?"

A nod.

"Alright, well still let me know if anything changes about your decision. The way you fight is
super, Roronoa-bro."

"Thank you."

Franky claps him on the shoulder. "Get home safe, it's a cold one tonight."

He nods, turning away and walking to the exit. His phone is pulled out almost immediately after
stepping outside. The time reads past midnight.

At least Smoker and Hina should be sleeping when I get back.

He hadn't told them where he was going tonight, just left after making dinner and took a taxi over
to Franky's. It's only been four or five days of him staying at their apartment but it feels like much
longer. He hasn't done much since staying with them past going to the gym in the mornings,
wandering around looking for work, and coming back to make food- he's learned that neither
Smoker or Hina know how to cook so they tend to order out more than is probably healthy. Plus
cooking and cleaning around their place helps him feel less useless and bummy. Now I just gotta
head back and hope they don't ask me about anything tomorrow.

A gust of wind blows through him. It is fucking freezing out here. He ducks into the alley next to
the Cutty Flam to escape the harsh, frosty winds. No way I'm walking back in this weather. A
glance out of the alley down each direction of the street reveals no taxis driving around, so he
quickly punches in the numbers to one on his phone and orders.

He tells the man on the line his location, who then says, "Someone will be there in five." When he
ends the call, he puts his phone away. Bounces up and down on his toes to keep himself up. His
match tonight was quick and all the pent-up energy it left him with is rapidly disappearing.

Stay awake, need to wait for the taxi.

Maybe if I'd been able to fucking sleep more than a couple hours the past few days, then I wouldn't
be so goddamn tired. Stupid fucking brain doesn't know how to shut up at night. Body isn't used to
sleeping in a new place, and without Sir's warm-

Shut up. Shut the fuck up. You don't need him, this isn't about him.

Isn't it?

He's too tired to argue with himself and his thoughts are a lot and you know what- the brick wall
across from him isn't looking too bad.

Wait, think, dumbass.

You'll hurt your hands and for what? You still have to train tomorrow, and you fuck yourself up
now, you won't be able to. Just sleep it off once you get to the apartment.

His hands twitch at his sides.

I don't normally train heavy the day after a bout though anyway. What can it really hurt?

He pushes himself off the wall.

No, nope. Stop being a stubborn bastard. You're not about to let loose on a fucking brick wall. Just
hold it in you goddamn-

In a fluid motion he turns and snaps an overhand left into the wall behind him. The force of impact
bolts up his arm. Alright, stop it, you fucking idiot. No more.

He leans his forehead against the brick.

With that one movement his remaining energy bleeds out of him. Like the other side of a coin,
exhaustion fills him up, hits him all at once. So fucking tired.

Why has it been bothering me so much?

You know what, no. Don't wanna think about it. Not thinking about that right now.

He steps back out of the alley, stands on the curb of the street to wait for the taxi.
A few minutes pass before it's pulling up. He hops in and shows the driver Smoker's address which
is saved along with the man's number on his new phone. The ride isn't too long and he dozes in and
out with each turn. Doesn't say anything past a thank you after he pays. He hurries into the building
to keep out of the cold. Makes his way up to Smoker's apartment- is there someone giggling?- and
then quietly, using the spare key he'd been given, unlocks the door. The soft laughter is louder
now, and he walks in, shutting it behind himself. Hina is sitting on the couch, wide-eyed, with
Smoker sprawled out and snoring peacefully next to her. There's a strange woman on the side chair
across from them. Both ladies look up at him curiously.

"Hey, hun, you're back?"

Frozen in his spot at the unexpected attention, he manages a nod. I thought they'd be in bed by now.
And who the hell is this woman?

"Zoro, this is my friend, Robin. Robin, this is the boy I was telling you about that's staying with
us."

Robin tilts her head as though examining him. Her eyes are kind, but there's something there too,
something-

"Well aren't you a sight."

A nod. "Miss Robin." His struggles to keep his eye open.

She grins. "No need to be so formal, I'll probably be ..."

The rest is lost as he focuses all his energy on not falling asleep on his feet.

"... Zoro?"

He snaps his eye to Hina. Rubs a rough hand into it in an effort to wake up more. His thoughts are
mush. And his head feels so heavy.

Hina. Just focus on Hina. She called you, she wants ...

Something. Some-thing. Wanted?

"You alright, hun? What's wrong?"

He wants to scream. Just wanna sleep. Just ...

He shakes his head. "Good, Miss Hina." Rubbing at his eye again, "Real tired."

"Sorry, I know we're on your bed right now. We can move and I'll pull the couch out for you in just
a minute, okay?"

Energy drained from earlier, and swaying on his feet- days, it's been days since he last got more
than an hour of sleep- he could crash anywhere. "Don't need," he blinks himself awake again, "a
bed."

"Nonsense," the new woman says. Zoro had forgotten she was there. "I should be leaving soon
anyway, my fiance finished work a little bit ago, so-"

If he was more present he never would have interrupted her, but as is, he's barely up on his feet, so
he says, "Stay, s'okay." He'd rather sleep somewhere else than make anyone- especially Smoker,
who's already asleep- move. "Miss Hina, can I ..." He points to the other side chair across from the
couch, a few feet away from Robin.

"I mean ..." she picks her cigarette up from where it was resting in the ashtray. "You can, but I'd
rather you sleep comfortable on the couch. It's not a bother to pull it out, I promise."

Permission given, he just manages to slip his bag off before sinking into the chair ungracefully.
"S'okay, Miss Hina. Thank you." Vaguely he feels Robin staring at him, though he's too worn out
to really care. His eye is already closed. Breathing already even. He thinks he mumbles another
thank you but by then he has already crashed.

Two days and still not enough well-slept nights later, and he's at the asian supermarket getting
groceries when he hears a surprised, "Mosshead?"

He turns, and there's Blondie, in all his effortless elegance, grabbing something off the shelf and
placing it into his cart.

"Blondie," he grins something tired. "You good?"

Blondie gets a look in his eye, the one that Zoro knows means he's about to explode.

"Am I good?" Zoro's never heard a voice sound so incredulous. "Am I good?" He repeats the
question as though he can't believe it. "It's been a whole fucking week since I saw you. You
remember? When you left our place with a random man after getting fucking shot in the head?!"

After a deep breath he seems to realize he's shouting in the middle of the aisle.

"I mean ... are you okay?"

He nods. "I'm fine." Tilts his head to the side a little and brushes his fingers over the ridged line
over his ear from where the bullet grazed him. "All closed. Healing."

Blondie breathes out. "Good, alright. That's good." He bites his lip. "Can I ...?"

Zoro's not sure what he's asking for but he nods anyway. Blondie steps in close, reaches his own
arm up and rests it on the side of Zoro's head.

"Why'd you leave that day?"

He almost flinches at the soft touch.

"Had to. Sorry."

"You didn't ... I mean, you never came back to the apartment."

I was a mess. Still am. Couldn't face you guys like that.

"I went over by your bar but it was still closed. Ace said you live with another man on the first
floor of the apartment building right outside the club, so I checked there too, but no answer."

Fuck, he went looking for me?

"Luffy's grandpa, of all people, called us the morning after you left with that white-haired cop. Let
us know you were alright, but nothing more than that." He drops his hand.

"'M okay, Blondie. Promise." He says, because he can tell he's worried.

Blondie nods, obviously not convinced. "If you haven't been home then where've you been
staying? You're obviously still somewhere in the area if you're shopping here."

"Yeah," he runs a hand through his hair. "Smoker."

A curly eyebrow is raised. "What does me being a smoker have to do with anything?"

Shaking his head, he corrects, "The man you saw ... named Smoker."

"Oh, the cop?"

He nods.

"You're staying with a cop?!"

"He's nice, I ... sparring partner- years."

"Uh-huh. You knew him from the gym you mean?"

"Yeah."

Blondie shifts on his feet. "So you've been safe the past week." A disbelieving sigh. "Fucking hell,
that would've been nice to know. God knows you don't have a phone for me to have called you and
checked up. Why haven't you come back to let us know how you're doing?"

Oh! He digs into his pocket, grabbing the small phone and handing it over, palm up. "Mister Garp
got me."

"Luffy's grandpa got you a phone?"

He hums. "Your number."

"Okay, yeah. Let me put mine and Luffy's numbers in there." He takes a minute typing into the
phone before handing it back over. "You still didn't answer my question though."

He cocks his head.

"Why didn't you stop by to let us know you're safe?"

Right. That. It's not that he hadn't thought about it.

Every time he's went to the gym these past few days, he's thought of stopping by at their apartment.
But every time he talks himself out of it.

Don't want to burden anyone. Wanted to wait a little, till I was more put together. Then maybe,
once I found a job and my own place I'd come to see you guys.

"Didn't want ... bother you at all."

"Oh, you absolute idiot." He berates. "You're not even fucking kidding, are you?"

Fuck, I pissed him off. What'd I say wrong?

"I knew you were dumb, mosshead, but I didn't know you were that dumb. You are never a
bother." He tempers his anger a tad, "I was worried about you this whole week. Luffy was too. We
just wanted to know that you were okay. You wouldn't have bothered us by coming over. Even if
you wanted to stay over, it would never bother us. You got it?"

Not really. He nods. I'm a mess, a burden, whether you admit it or not.

"Luffy?"

Blondie sighs. "Yeah, Luffy's okay." A pause. "Misses you."

Zoro drops his head. Thinks of Luffy's wide, sunshine smile. Thinks of the way he always knows
what Zoro means, even without words. "Miss him too."

"You should come over, mosshead. I'll let everyone know you're safe once I get back, but it would
be nice if- I'm sure they all want to actually see you in person."

He nods. It would be good to see them too, of course. Just not right now. Not when I'm like this.
"Call?"

"Sure. I can do that. And like I said earlier- you're not a burden, dumbass. We'd love for you to
come over, whenever you're up for it."

"I'll try."

"I know." He sighs, face lightening. "Anyway, what're you here for?"

He shrugs, "Just groceries. Smoker gets take-out, lot ... but I- homecooked better and ... not doing,
anyway. Y'know?"

Blondie looks at him like he definitely does not know what just came out of his mouth.

Zoro decides to redirect, "You're here why?"

"Oh, well, I went to this restaurant the other day and had the most delicious green-tea beef yakitori
over rice. So I'm just getting the stuff I think was used. I want to try and recreate it." His eyes light
up as he talks and Zoro's crinkles at the man's excitement.

"Can help." He offers. He's made yakitori before, though he's never actually used a grill for it, but
he knows what ingredients are needed to marinate the beef.

"Really?" His visible blue eye widens. "That would be great, mosshead! I always forget you know
how to cook. But yeah, of course! If you could help me out, I'd really appreciate it."

He nods, grabbing what he needed for Smoker's apartment from the aisle and putting it into his
small basket. "Yakitori's easy. Don't need much," he gestures for Blondie to follow him to the next
aisle over. He smiles, despite himself, because he remembers- even though he swore off drinking-
that it's, "Good with yamahai sake."

Blondie has on an excited smile. "Oh you're in for it now. Next time you come over, whenever it is,
you're telling me all the recipes you got up there." He waves up at Zoro's head.

He cracks a similar grin. "No problem, Cook."

They finish shopping with an easy atmosphere between them, promising to call and keep in touch
before walking their opposite directions.
.

The sidewalk he's on is broken and damp.

A heavy drizzle started up a few minutes ago, and he's halfway to soaked, now. Cars honk from all
around, though it's a soft blur of noises. He must not be too far off from a main street. There's a
distant police siren, and if he focuses even more, he can hear the occasional screeching of the
subway rails under the pattering of rain. It's not a windy night, so he isn't too cold despite the wet
clothes starting to stick to his body.

A dog barks from somewhere close.

If he was still back at Sir's apartment, the air would be much quieter, cleaner. But he's not there,
and Smoker's apartment is closer to the city, so his new nightly walks have been accompanied by
lots of busier sounds. He thinks he might prefer it over the oppressive quiet of the street he used to
live on. Used to live on. Like it was all that long ago.

It's nearing almost two weeks of him staying with Smoker. Every day he gets more and more
restless.

So goddamn restless and I can't fucking sleep either. It's a shit combo.

He narrowly avoids stepping into a large puddle at the entrance of an alley.

The walks started a few days ago. He hadn't been able to sleep more than two hours before he was
jumping off the couch, grabbing his coat and heading out the door. He had to do something- move
around, clear his head- and so he walked. And walked, and walked. Until he was thoroughly lost at
4am in a still-awake city. He made his way back using the address saved in his phone, mind clearer
than it was before. Every night after that he's done the same thing, and tonight is no different. He
managed three hours of tossing and turning before deciding he needed fresh air. Smoker and Hina
sleeping away, none the wiser, in their bedroom. He doesn't bother to check the time on his phone,
but he knows he's been walking for at least a couple hours. Time just seems to blur when he's like
this.

A few cars rumble past, slow.

He's restless.

Trying to find a job has proven extremely difficult the past week.

It seems everyone wants something called a Resume, and he has no clue where to buy one of those.
So no one wants to hire him, and he can't afford a new place without a job, and he can't get a job,
so he's being fucking useless at Smoker's apartment- unable to do more than cook and clean and
hope that shows them his appreciation for letting him stay as long as he is. Smoker tried setting
him up with some desk job at his police precinct, but Zoro knows he's too dumb for something that
needs reading and writing like that. He then offered to set Zoro up in a school to get some type of
GE ... something- certification that would help him get a job, but he hasn't been to school since he
was nine, and that's been way too long for him to go back now.

Ok, that's enough.

Think in the morning. Just relax now. Now isn't time for problems.

Right.

He breathes in the city air. It smells like sewage and ... pizza?

Fuck, I'm hungry.

He keeps walking.

The street he turns onto then is more populated, music blaring from one of the apartment buildings
and kids sprawling out into the street. Dancing, and obviously drunk while trying to find rides
home. Zoro turns in down the next alley.

Traffic, especially the heavy sound of trucks passing by, is louder here. He walks a little longer
under yellow lamp lights before the rain clinging to him gets heavy and he ducks under the awning
of a 24-hour diner to get out of it. Might as well get something to eat, if I'm here. He goes to pull
the door before realizing the lights are off inside the place.

Isn't it ... He walks back into the rain and peers up at the bright red sign. Unless the rain is blurring
his vision too much, it reads Navarone Diner, with a smaller, Open 24 Hr sign underneath. He
goes under the awning again. Tries the door.

It's locked.

Damn. I coulda really went for some food right now. A glance up and down the street finds no
other restaurants. Oh well. He sighs, leans back against the door. Should be heading back anyway.
But why's this place ...

Oh. There's a sign.

Shit, let's see. He squints at the note taped to the door, scrawled in loopy handwriting. It takes him
a couple minutes, but he thinks he reads out short-staffed, no overnight servers. sorry for the incon
venience. And next to it, a typed, NOW HIRING sign.

He blinks.

Now hiring?

Short-staffed. Wait, fuck. I could be staff.

Maybe- I mean this place seems like they really need someone- maybe they'll ...

They should be open in the morning again, I can come by and ask, see if they wanna hire me?

Yeah, fuck, yeah.

He types the name of the diner into his phone, finds its address and saves that too.

I'll be back in the morning, and if they take me, I can be a server here. It's not too far off from
bartending. He uses an app to route himself back to Smoker's apartment. And he must've made
more circles around the city than he thought because it shows he's only 25 minutes away, walking.
And it's not that far either, shit. He cracks a small smile.

If this works out then I can finally start looking for my own place to live. Can finally start fresh.
.

He goes back after the gym the next morning.

The manager of the diner is a stern woman. She asks him three questions and nothing else.

"You have any experience?" She had asked.

And he told her about his years as a bartender.

"You an ex-con?" Was her second question.

And he told her he didn't know what that meant.

Her third was, "When can you work?"

And he tells her overnights, and mostly every night.

She doesn't smile but her body language becomes slightly more open. Then she starts talking to
him about pay and job responsibilities- is she not going to ask me anything else?- as she walks to
the kitchen. He follows her, trying his best to listen while also calculating how much he'd be
making with the salary she offered up. It could be enough for a small studio apartment with a
couple hundred left over if I work full shifts six nights a week- and that's not including any money
from tips.

The kitchen is bustling, in fact the whole diner is. Truly a stark contrast from the silent, dark place
it was last night. Sounds of sizzling and orders being called back and forth assault his ears. She
weaves between and behind the cooks, still going on about expectations. When they reach the back
of the kitchen, she turns down a short hallway with a couple doors. She unlocks the door to one
and walks in.

"The overnight shift isn't as busy as you saw just now, but it is steady, and we normally only have
one cook on duty." There's a desk against the back of the small room. This must be her office. She
turns to him, sizing him up suddenly.

Like a flip of a switch he's instantly tense. Eye aimed at the floor as he's examined. Fuck, why the
hell is she looking at me like that?

He clocks a tilt of her head before her stare breaks and she strides over to a large dresser near the
door. "Are you an XL?"

A broken off sound forms and dies in his throat. He clasps his hands behind his back.

Then the tension is released from the whole of his body as she pulls out a maroon polo, black
pants, and a waist apron. Oh thank fuck, that's why she asked.

She hands them over to him. The shirt might fit alright, but the pants definitely seem too small- he
doubts he could get them even half-way up his thighs. He shakes his head, holding out the pants.
"Bigger."

A nod, and she digs in the dresser again, pulling out a larger size.
They seem like they'll do aright, but he shakes himself- suddenly aware of the fact that he's holding
a uniform in his arms. Is that it? I'm hired just like that?

"Like I was saying, overnights aren't busy, just steady. You'll mostly have three types of people
coming in- truckers, tourists looking for a late-night snack, and workers from the hospital down the
street. If you're free tomorrow morning, come by, and I'll have one of my servers show you the
ropes."

Fuck, this is really happening. Tries not to sound too excited when he says, "Yeah, tha's great."

She walks to her desk and sits down.

Zoro's excitement fluctuates in the face of her stare. He tries not to tense again.

"I don't normally hire people so quick. But ... you seem like a good man, and a hard-worker, and I
hope you can be reliable."

"Thank you, Miss Jessica."

She nods. "Come see me tomorrow, I'll get you all set up, okay?"

He shakes off his lingering disbelief. She's really hiring me. I'm getting a new job. "Thank you," he
says again, and hopes his tone conveys his sincerity.

Uniform in hand and thoughts everywhere, he somehow makes it back to the apartment in only
twenty minutes. There's a spring to his step that he can't deny. Even before he unlocks the door, he
can hear the tv. Maybe Hina came from work early? It's a little past two, but her and Smoker
normally finish around 4 or 5. He walks in and is met with the woman from last week. Fuck, what
was her name again? Started with an R, I think, R ... something.

Miss R-something sits poised on the couch. Spares him a brief glance. Focuses back on the tv.

"Hello, Miss."

He sets his new clothes down when she gives him no response past a nod, and makes his way to
the kitchen. Thinks on what to make for a quick snack and later for dinner.

An interested hum brings his attention to the woman again. She's staring, intrigued at the
screen. Did she let herself in? He shakes his head, clearing it. Doesn't matter anyway. She doesn't
seem in the mood to talk, too focused on the tv, and Zoro has never been the type to start a
conversation.

Grabbing the ingredients to make himself some onigiri, he takes out some extra salmon- figures
he'll make some for the woman as well. And maybe some gyoza for dinner? I haven't made those
in a while. He washes his hands and gets started, losing himself so much in the cooking process
that he almost forgets about the woman on the couch, until-

"Zoro?"

He turns away from the counter where he was finishing wrapping his stuffed rice balls with nori.
"Miss Hina?"

Was she in her room this whole time? That must be why the other woman is here.

Hina is dressed in a tight, deep-red dress. Her makeup is all done and she has her purple sunglasses
resting on her head. "You left early this morning." Heels click as she walks over to the counter
separating the living room and the kitchen.

Right, I went straight from the gym to the diner, so I didn't see her.

"Sorry." He says. Then with a shrug and a small smile, "Got a job."

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. "Really!" She steps around the counter, wraps Zoro in a hug
he tries not to tense into. "That's amazing, hun." She lets go, holding him at his shoulders. "Where
is it?"

"Navarone diner." Her eyes light in recognition. "Overnights, a server."

She nods. "Good, that's- you said you were a bartender before, right?"

A bartender, a stripper, a slu- "Yeah."

"Well then that's perfect for you. I know the owner of that place, he's a nice guy- hell of a
mustache."

Zoro tilts his head. It was a woman, though, that hired me. Miss Jessica- the manager, I think. He
voices the name to Hina who nods again. "Right, Jessica is the manager and head chef. Her
husband, Jonathan, is the owner though."

Oh, okay. He shrugs.

"Anyway," she walks back to the living room. "I'm heading out with Robin in a little for a work
event." That's it- Robin. He notices for the first time that the woman is also dressed fancy. She
glances up at the sound of her name.

Fuck, I just made a lot of onigiri thinking she would eat though. "I- uh ..." Hina turns to him and he
gestures to the counter behind him. "Making a snack. Want before you go?"

Hina glances at her watch, then at Robin, asking a silent question.

Robin shrugs, eyes still half on the screen- it must be a good show on if she's so invested in it.
"Well," she starts, voice even, and already Zoro gets the sense she's the type of person that talks
deliberately, and doesn't speak without thinking about it first. "We don't need to be there for
another hour, and it is thirty minutes away."

"Okay," Hina nods to Zoro, "if you made extra, we'll have some. Thanks, hun."

Alright, just need five minutes to finish up.

Hina sits next to Robin on the couch, pulls out a cigarette and the book she had left on the table last
night. She too, glances at the tv though, and Zoro turns away. Though he then feels her strong gaze
on the back of his head. Fuck, what is it? He ignores the prickling feeling until he finishes making
the onigiri- setting them onto a large plate and bringing them over to the living room. Hina's eyes
are still on him. He sets down the plate, and takes a few large steps back.

"Miss Hina?" He prompts, because maybe she wants him to do something, and that's why she's
staring?

"Zoro, I-" She finally breaks her gaze. Why does she sound so torn up? "I know you haven't told
me much about where you used to be, and Smoker only told me the basics ..."

At Hina's words, Robin sets curious eyes on him.

Fuck, why is she bringing this up?

Hina continues. "But what did you say the man's name was?"

The man's name. It's not hard to know who she's referring to. Sir. Fuck it's been almost two weeks
since I saw him at the hospital. And I've been distracting myself pretty damn well since then so I
wouldn't have to think about him. Why is she making me think about him?

"Sir," he says. And she shakes her head.

"His name, hun. His real name."

He sucks in a breath. "... Crocodile." He whispers, eye to the floor.

"Yeah," she sounds strangely forlorn. "That's what I thought." She points to the tv, and Zoro
follows the length of her arm. What the-

On the screen, what Robin was so interested in, is some type of news person behind a desk, words
bolded at the bottom and a large picture of Sir in handcuffs at the top right. Fuck. He finally tunes
in to what's being said.

"... we've been reporting on this for the last thirty minutes, and we've just received a new update.
This just in. The hearing for Crocodile- one of the largest business and casino owners in the city,
who is now being accused of murder, weapons and drug trafficking, extortion, pimping, and
underage sex trafficking- is officially scheduled for tomorrow at the Alabasta courthouse. And our
sources say it is highly likely for him to get out on bail. More on this after ..."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I didn't wanna think about it, didn't wanna-

He fists his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking.

The hearing is tomorrow. It's been weeks since I saw him. Weeks, so why do I still ... 'If they put
me out on bail, I'll go to Conti's restaurant at night,' Sir's voice is loud in his head. He remembers
the words so clearly.

'We can leave together.'

Fuck. No I'm staying, I'm staying. I just got a job, and I'll start looking for an apartment soon and
...

He remembers warm arms around him, and flashes of slow mornings waking up to lazy kisses flick
through his head. Even the hoodie he's wearing right now is Sir's- one of the ones he asked Smoker
to grab him from their old place because he was desperate to feel that comfort, that safety, that he
had with Sir- even if he wasn't with him anymore.

Stop it. He wasn't good for you. He hurt you.

 'We can leave together.'

"Zoro?"

He latches on to Hina's voice. Tries to ground himself back in the now.

"Zoro, are you okay?"

'We can leave together.'

A shuddering breath. He nods.

'We can leave together.'

Chapter End Notes

soooooooo
whatd yall think. yell at me down below <3

next chpt might not be for a while but it will have some of yalls favs in it dw

also ik the intercity tournament you cant register unless ur over 18, and that you also
dont get paid for it cause its amateur- but in this universe it starts at 16, and theres a
purse bc thats just what worked w my storyline okk. as a past amateur i couldnt just
write it up like that w/o an explanation lol
 i could never look you head on- a final kiss, and the last ill ever see of you
Chapter Summary

no clue how to summarize this one but OOF have fun reading

Chapter Notes

YALL

idek what to say but enjoyy

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The server with the gold band around her forehead curses at him for what is now the fifth time.

"Fucking hell, Table 18 is that way." She's behind him, and she grabs his shoulders with both
hands, turning him around.

"Sorry," he mumbles. There's only a few plates balanced in his hands and he keeps them steady as
he walks over to the table. It's an older couple that smile at him when he sets down their food. "Get
you anything?" He asks, just like the lady server had told him to.

"No," they respond together, one of them adding a 'thanks, honey' before he walks away.

His training is going fairly well, though the server actually training him might disagree. He glances
down at her name-tag to remind himself before she turns away. Carmen, right.

He follows Carmen back to the kitchen. She's actually one of the cooks here, she had told him
earlier, but she also works the front from time to time.

"Alright," she says, once she checks that no dishes are ready to be pushed out yet. Her elbows rest
back on one of the stainless steel counters in the busy kitchen, she's leaned so she's facing him.
"Why do you keep getting turned around."

His cheeks heat.

If Blondie were here he'd call him a directionless mosshead.

Luffy and Ace would say that's how Zoro is, always lost.

But there's no one else here with him, so he just says, "Sorry."

He's not getting turned around for the usual reasons today anyway. Today he's distracted.
"That's not an explanation ..." she sighs. There's a shout of an order ready and she pushes herself
off the counter. Balances stacks of dishes over skilled hands and walks out.

Zoro follows.

He came early and has been training for the last four hours. The first one, Jessica showed him
where everything was. She was shocked he didn't have a bank account, but did agree to pay him, in
cash instead, every two weeks. He hadn't told her he doesn't even have an ID, so there's no way he
could get a savings account- but he didn't think she'd take that well. Then she put him to work with
Carmen who drilled into him everything he needs to know.

His first real day is tomorrow night.

"Hello?" Carmen's voice rings loud, annoyed.

He glances up at her, realizes he's blocking her way to go back to the kitchen and finish grabbing
dishes and he quickly apologizes and leaps to the side.

"So distracted, goddamn." She scoffs. He follows her again into the kitchen. "Focus up, okay?
Take this to Table 4- it's the window booth- and come back." She waltzes off with her own tray in
hand.

He takes it and makes another trip for a requested refill before meeting her back in the kitchen.

"Good job, you didn't mess up." She sounds genuinely surprised.

A weird mix of feelings- insulted and proud- light his cheeks.

"You wanna tell me what's got you so distracted? Or is this just how you normally are."

He shakes his head. "Normally better. Just-" Just today is Sir's hearing.

'Leave with me.'

"-sorry." He finishes.

"Yeah, yeah. You're always sorry, I got that." She waves him off, giving another order ticket to the
cook line. "Anyway," she turns back, "I think I'm gonna let you go, unless you feel like staying
more- it might be good for you to experience a lunch rush- but that's up to you. I feel like you got a
good handle on mostly everything, and tomorrow I think Jess said she'll be the overnight cook just
this once in case you need help with anything."

He nods, doesn't skip past the opportunity. The few hours he's been here have flown by, but the
more time that passes, the more he's bound to get distracted. Smoker still hasn't called. "Thank you.
Later?"

She shrugs, grabbing a tray of food and taking it back out to the floor. He trails behind her.
"Probably not. I haven't worked the overnight shift here ever and I don't plan on starting now." She
sets the dishes down, refills a few coffees. "Good luck to you though, you'll do alright."

He nods. Leaves her with the customers. His coat is back in the hallway past the kitchen and he
weaves through cooks to get there. He slips it on and slips out the back.

Zipping up his jacket, he start walking back to Smoker's. Might as well hit the gym, get my mind
off all of this.
As though on cue, his pants start buzzing. In a scramble, he almost fumbles his phone trying to
snatch it from his back pocket. Doesn't bother to check the caller ID before he's answering and
pressing it to his ear.

"Smoker?"

"Hey, Zoro." He says, voice calm in response to his rushed one. "How's things with the diner
going?"

Fine, fine, fine- That's not what you're supposed to tell me about.

"Good. Just left."

"That's good." Voice slow as ever, as though he's urging Zoro to take a breath. "I'm proud of you
for going out and finding yourself a job, kid." Proud, great- but that's not why you called- "Listen-"
Finally. "About the hearing ..."

All morning his thoughts have been pulled away toward Sir, finally Smoker is-

There's an extended pause.

With a free hand Zoro pulls at his hair. Just talk, please just fucking- A scream is held down in his
lungs.

"Smoker, please."

A heavy sigh. Clothes shift on the other end of the line. "Well ... The hearing just ended. He's been
remanded ... on bail."

What? "What's that mean." And he's too pumped full of anxiety to bother to keep the demand and
frustration out of his voice.

Another sigh. "Zoro he's ... he made bail. He paid the amount they told him to and- they let him go
until the trial in two days."

They let him go.

His hand drifts the phone away from his head.

Is he already at home? Back at our apartment, is he-

Tonight then ... tonight he'll be waiting for me.

"... Zoro?" A muffled voice.

He presses the phone back to his ear.

"Zoro, just- just come home, okay? I'm leaving the courthouse now, I should be there in about an
hour."

"Gym," he says, shaking his head.

Need to go train, clear my head. "Gonna get- bag 'n go."

"Okay, kid, I know, but ... just wait for me, alright?" A car door closes. An engine starts up. "You
can go train later today, after I get to the apartment. Just wait for me thirty minutes once you get
home, yeah?"

He doesn't respond. Hadn't realized he'd frozen in place. Starts walking again, steps quick, the way
back to Smoker's apartment.

"Zoro?"

"Don't ... wanna wait."

He walks through side-streets, narrowly avoiding passing cars. Smoker must hear the honking,
"Zoro watch where you're going."

Right, right. Focus. Get back, grab your bag, go to the gym, and figure this shit out.

"Sorry."

"I'll be home soon, kid. Wait for me."

He nods, knowing full well he won't. He can't. Not after-

Sir's probably at our apartment right now.

"Thank you."

For telling me. For everything. And it's not a goodbye, it's not.

"Zoro wait-"

He ends the call. Turns his phone off and slips it back into his pocket.

He's laying on the couch, head cradled in Crocodile's lap.

Crocodile runs his knuckles around Zoro's navel. He's saying something to Daz, who's seated in
the armchair a foot away. Zoro's eye stays trained on the movement of Sir's jaw as he speaks.
Doesn't focus on what he says, just the way his lips move around the words, they way he pauses
every couple minutes to puff on his cigar.

He lets his eye trail up further until he's watching Sir's eyes. After a few moments Crocodile
glances down, as though he knew Zoro was looking and suddenly dark eyes meet his singular one.
They're neutral, no emotion strong enough to be read in them. Zoro tenses at being caught. Not
supposed to- fuck, fuck, why'd I look. He regards Zoro curiously.

Then, as though nothing happened, Crocodile looks back up at Daz, continuing their conversation.
Zoro relaxes, forces himself to look away lest he get caught again. He moves his focus to where his
feet dangle over the armrest of the couch. Thankfully Sir had let him put some pants on before they
came out to the living room. Though he is shirtless, just having finished fucking Crocodile before
Daz arrived, needing to talk. Sir digs his fingers into Zoro's bare stomach. Cum leaks out of him
slowly, likely staining the back of his pants.
He shifts a little onto his left side, nuzzling the side of his head into Sir's lap, it brings his working
eye level with the crease of Sir's hips. Regret is quick to flash through him as he realizes- he's
giving Daz his back. Daz, who enjoys tearing it up more than even Sir himself. Who had just torn it
up with a whip last week. He tries to turn back so it's flat against the couch again, hidden from
view, but a strong hand stops him. "Stay."

It takes everything in him to obey before he reminds himself-

Your body is theirs to use anyway. If they want to see your back who are you to tell them no?

He breathes through his nose.

"Open my shirt."

The buttons pop open easily under his hands. Instinct has him pressing a kiss to the newly exposed
skin of Sir's abdomen.

Sir hums. Continues talking to Daz who responds back in turn.

After a few minutes there's a lull in conversation. He feels the eyes on him. Desperately wants to
turn so he's flat on his back again. Stupid. Why'd you turn yourself to the side like this?

"You're mine, Zoro. You know that right?"

I'm yours. I've always been. He nods.

No, not always.

There was a time when ... he didn't own you. Just a couple years ago. When you weren't his
because you weren't anyone's. You were just Roronoa Zoro. The son of a gambling man and a
woman gone too soon. A pudgy kid that loved fighting and adventure. One who found temporary
salvation in a lighthouse on the coast, with two bright-smiled, kind-hearted boys.

Sir hums.

"You know what you'd look nice with more of?"

Zoro opens his mouth to question and then it falls open further in a choked, silent shout as a
searing pain centers at the side of his right shoulder. There's a pressure with it too, before nothing-
before the sudden melting gives way to a dull burning that radiates through his upper arm- and the
pressure stays, then lifts after a moment.

He makes no noise, just silently looks up at Crocodile. A smile's on his face. He puffs on the cigar
he just burned him with.

"I wanna make a pattern, all the way down," he holds the offending cigar close to Zoro's skin,
mimicking drawing a line with it over his arm, stomach, and leg. "You always look so pretty with
my marks. Take me so well. What do you think?"

He knows the expected answer. The numbness and pain make it hard to grit out. "What you want,
sir."

"Good," he hums deep in his chest. Practically purrs the word. Under Zoro's other shoulder, he
can feel Sir's cock hardening steadily in his pants. "I'm going to keep talking with Daz. Try and
stay quiet for us, okay?"
"He'll be too loud, Croc. I don't think we'll be able to talk if you're marking him up."

"He'll be fine, he knows how to keep quiet, don't you, angel?"

"Yes, sir." He pants.

Sir sighs, "Anyway," and it's directed at Daz, "I know you're just saying that cause you want to use
his mouth."

He can hear Daz's smile, a shifting of clothes as he shrugs. "He's got a good mouth." Then the
voice is louder, like he's leaning forward. "Aint that right, pet?"

Quiet. He told you to keep quiet. But Daz wants an answer. Zoro looks up at Sir for permission,
who's smile widens. "You can answer him."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I don't want this. "Yes."

Then the cigar lifts, and it hovers a few inches down from the first burn. "I'm going to start now."
With his free hand, he cups Zoro's face. "You can take it, can't you?"

Yes. I can take it. I can take it.

He nods. Breathes. It's far from the first time Sir has done it- countless similar, circular marks
littering the rest of his body. This is nothing.

The cigar lowers to his skin, and he can feel the hair there being singed along with the melting of
skin. Sir starts talking again, and Zoro clenches his jaw and takes it.

The subway is packed. He takes it out to the gym, the same way he's been taking it for the past two
weeks from Smoker's house. Today is no different. Well, today is slightly different.

Today Sir got let go.

Jinbe smiles at him when he walks in.

He clenches his fists and pushes down his anxiety and smiles back.

He trains and he trains and he trains. He trains until he's dripping with sweat. He trains until he can
make a decision, but he hasn't yet- can't yet and so he trains. Everything hurts but it's not his body
this time. This time it's his fucking heart and it feels like it's pushing itself against his ribs.

He trains.

There's wool in his head- must be- because everything feels muffled, even his thoughts. There's an
itch under his skin.

He throws combo after combo until his hands are a screaming red. He pulls Kuina's bandana off
his head so he can yank at his hair.

Gathers himself enough to get back to the lockerroom and grab his things.
Then he breathes.

And makes his decision.

He crosses the block.

The club is still closed. Lights off and a padlock on the door. He ignores it- it's not why he's here-
and walks up the apartment steps.

The steps he thought he'd seen the last of.

He digs the keys out from his gym bag where he's tossed them in two weeks ago. He forget he even
had them until earlier today.

And now he's here.

He unlocks the door and the itch in his veins amplifies. I haven't even been away for that long, why
does it feel like this? He walks through the short hallway, taking a deep breath and opens their
door.

It's dark inside. The only light coming from the bedroom where the shades were left open and light
streams in. He shuts the door behind himself. Sets his gym bag down. His mind is buzzing.

The apartment is quiet.

He's not here.

His laugh is soft and bitter and it echoes through the silent room.

Stupid, loyal slut.

But, that's not- that's not even why he came back this time.

Was just going to tell him I wouldn't be leaving with him tonight. Was going to tell him-

Well, no use now. He's not here.

Fuck, I should leave. Lemme just ...

He walks to the bedroom. Rummages in the drawers a little, and grabs a few of Sir's shirts. Smoker
had passed by and grabbed some bags of Zoro's things last week, and a single hoodie of Sir's- but
Zoro had been too embarrassed to ask him for more than a few clothes of Crocodile's. Now,
though, he bundles the oversized clothes in his arms, walks to shove them in his gym bag, and then
back to grab some more.

Something glints next to the bed. It catches Zoro's eye and he approaches the gold circles on the
bedside table.

His rings?

Why would his rings be here?

Zoro picks one up- it's gold like the rest, with a thick, intricate band, and a white moonstone in the
center. It's the one he wears on his smallest finger.

He was wearing them on our vacation, wasn't he? And at the hospital. How could they be here?
Maybe one of the police dropped them off once he'd been arrested?

Oh, fuck it, it doesn't matter, you idiot, stop getting distracted. Finish grabbing what you want and
leave.

Right.

A door creaks open from behind him.

Startled, Zoro shoves the ring into his pocket and whips around.

Crocodile walks out from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and hair dripping wet.

Sir. Sir. Sir. Sir. Sir.

He's here.

He's here?

He seems just as surprised to see Zoro as Zoro is to see him- which is saying something.

"Zoro?"

He dares forward a step. Crocodile is bandage free, the only evidence he was ever even close to
death being the new gunshot scars on his neck and stomach. They're a vibrant pink color from the
shower, and- I didn't hear it running when I walked in. He must've finished right before I got here.

Crocodile closes the distance, and Zoro lets him, rooted to the floor, and vibrating with the effort to
not move. The itch is screaming at him now, pushing against his skin.

Then large, strong arms- the same large, strong arms that have taken care of him- have held you
down- for half his life- wrap him in a hug, and the itch settles.

He stays still for a long moment. Then he circles his arms around Sir's waist. Lets his hands rest at
the small of Sir's back as he breathes him in.

"You're home." Sir says, voice disbelieving, and he whispers the words into Zoro's hair.

After a few moments, Zoro is the one to break the embrace. Their arms drop at the same time.
Zoro doesn't move back, just stares at the damp chest in front of him- the one his face was just
plastered against, and blinks back tears.

"You're okay." It's a question. He knows Crocodile will be able to hear it.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright, angel." He sighs. Water runs down his chest, dripping from his hair. He
sees Zoro's sweaty hair, rumpled clothes. "Were you at the gym?"

"Yeah."
"You've been staying here then?"

And Zoro realizes how it must look- him coming home after the gym, sweaty and needing to
shower- but he hasn't been back here since ...

"No," he says, and clamps his jaw shut before he can elaborate.

Crocodile's eyes narrow slightly. "Where've you been staying?"

Zoro steps back, just enough to put some distance between them. I can't tell him. He knows Sir
wants a proper answer, and Zoro has never been one for dishonesty, but he also can't exactly tell
him he's been staying with Smoker, so he decides on, "Safe."

"Zoro," he repeats, voice rising. And he's always had paper-thin patience when it comes to
disobedience and half-truths. "Where have you been staying."

Zoro gives him nothing. Holds his ground. He can't know. "Safe," he says again.

Sir's eyebrows furrow, creasing heavily in the middle of his forehead. "What's going on." He
demands. "This isn't you." His eyes scan Zoro's face, down his body then back up.

Zoro lets himself be examined. Sees the exact moment Crocodile notices his missing earrings, and
then, "Did the police send you?"

He shakes his head, eye on the floor.

"But you came here for me," he says, a statement.

Zoro nods. Emotions swirl tight in his belly. He steps back in to Crocodile's space. Rests his
forehead against Crocodile's chest again, his neck still tilted down to the floor. He wants to grab
Sir's waist, hold him tight, but Sir hasn't given him permission to touch and he's not supposed to
want to anyway. Tell him you're staying. Tell him you won't leave with him.

Voice softer than before, he asks, "What's going on, angel?" A hand tangles into his hair, dragging
his head up so he's looking at the bottom of Sir's jaw.

He focuses somewhere around his lips. "Can I ..."

Sir sighs, knows Zoro's avoiding the question. But he relents, allowing him some give. "You want
something?" There's a coy lift to his lips. A heavy hand settles on Zoro's left hip, the other at the
back of his neck. He rolls his hips, holding Zoro against him.

"Sir," his voice is a breathy, low-pitched whine and he hates it. Still, he can't take his eye off his
lips. Tell him you can't leave.

"I got you," he leans down, presses a kiss to the corner of Zoro's mouth. "I got you," and he slots
their lips together.

His heart lightens.

Zoro rests his hands against the burning skin of Sir's chest as they kiss, something deep and easy.

When they part, Sir still holds them close. "Stop hiding from me."

"Sorry." He mutters on an exhale. Genuine, always genuine with Sir.

Their breaths mix. "You have something to tell me. Something I won't like."

Able to read through you, as usual. He nods, swallowing hard.

"What is it, angel?"

"You're leaving."

Sir nods, eyebrow raised. "Yeah ... later tonight, you know that. I just have a few things to take care
of around the city first, but the arrangements are all set for us."

"Right." He takes a deep breath. Tell him. "Not me."

The hold at the back of his neck tightens.

"You think you're not coming?"

Fuck.

"Sir ..."

He grabs Zoro's chin. "You're mine. You're leaving with me, why would you think anything
different?"

Words swirl around his head, but none of them fit right- none are what he means to say.

I can't leave with you. I want to start new here. I'm staying.

"Sir-"

"Have you forgotten who you belong to? Everything I've done for you?"

That's not what this is about. He shakes his head rapidly, begging Sir to understand. "I know ... 'm
yours, Sir, please. Don't wanna."

"You don't want to leave?" His voice rises incredulously. "You've wanted to leave for years. Don't
bullshit me, Zoro."

I'm not lying, I'd never-

Fuck, why did I think coming here and telling him this was a good idea?

You didn't want to take the coward's way out. To leave him waiting at the restaurant wondering
when you'd show up.

Fingers tighten at his chin. A bruising grip. "You're coming with me." He says, like a fact etched in
stone.

Then he drops his hand after a minute, shakes his head. "Distracting, fuck, I don't have time for
this. How do you always manage to do that to me?" He's mumbling to himself now, and he walks
past Zoro, grabbing a pair of boxers from his dresser, and dropping his towel to pull them over his
hips. "Anyway, I need to take care of some things," he says matter-of-factly, as he walks past Zoro
again to get to the closet. "I'd take you with me, but these need to be handled on my own. Then I'll
go to the restaurant." He pulls out a set of clothes, lays them out on the bed and starts getting
dressed. "Give me a hand, angel?" His arm points to the small row of shoes on the floor of the
closet.

Numb, and lost at the sudden change in topic and tone, he nods. Grabs Sir's favorite shoes and a
pair of socks to match. Sir is seated at the edge of the bed now, suit pants on but unzipped. His
navy dress shirt half-buttoned. He nods to the floor and, still slightly disoriented, Zoro follows the
unspoken order.

He hasn't gotten to his knees in weeks.

Doing it again now, for Sir, makes something in him shift. He wants to cry. He won't.

"You know how to get there?" He asks, crossing each foot over his knees to put on the socks and
shoes.

Zoro nods.

I'm not going. I'm not leaving with you.

He wants to scream.

"Do those up for me, would you?"

"Okay," his voice comes out a whisper. What are you doing. What are you doing. What are you
doing?

He ties Crocodile's shoes both, then his hand is being guided up to settle on Sir's crotch.

"Once I'm done taking care of things, I'll meet you there. It's ..." he checks the watch he must've
put on at some point, "four-thirty right now. We'll meet there at 7." Then, "Go ahead, angel." Zoro
zips up his pants. Sir stands. As though sensing Zoro's confusion, his voice takes on an
understanding tone.

"I'm not angry with you." He sighs. "I know the police must have talked to you, made you a little ...
confused." He leans down, rubs Zoro's earring-free, pierced, earlobe between his fingers. "But
you're mine, always. You know that, don't you?" And he offers his hand.

He hesitates for a fraction of a second. Then he takes it. Lets Sir pull him to a stand. "I know."

"I won't leave without you."

Do I lie to him? Promise I'll meet him tonight?

You fucking coward. Just tell him the truth. He doesn't believe you, you need to make him listen.
It's not the police making you do this.

"Sir, I can't le-"

"I won't leave without you, Zoro." His conviction is unwavering.

Zoro exhales deeply, a shuddering breath, and blinks away frustrated tears. Turns his head to the
side.

"You understand, don't you?" He thumbs over Zoro's jaw.

No, I don't fucking understand. He nods.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

"Good. Well, I really do have to go now." He slips on his suit vest and buttons it up, then shrugs
into his long coat. Walking over to the bed, he grabs his rings off the drawer. "Have you seen my
white one?" He turns to Zoro, eyebrows furrowed.

Zoro's eye widens. I forgot I had it. He snaps a hand to his pocket, snatching the ring and offering
it out.

Crocodile chuckles something light. "That's okay, angel. As long as you have it. You can give it
back to me tonight, okay?"

He chokes out something unintelligible. Manages a nod.

Liar.

Sir walks past him and out of the bedroom, toward the front door. Zoro follows him in a daze.
"Seven at Conti's, okay? Try not to get lost." He smiles, then leans over and presses a kiss to Zoro's
matted hair.

He moves away, opens the door and goes to leave, and something claws at Zoro's chest. You won't
leave with him. You can't- Desperate, he grabs Sir by the collar and drags him down to meet his
lips.

Surprised, but never opposed, he hums against Zoro's mouth.

"Sir," breathless, he parts, then pushes forward into another. Tell him, you need to tell him. "I-"

"It's okay, angel. It'll be okay." He pulls away, "Don't be late?"

Heart in his stomach, lips tingling from the rough kiss, he nods. "Okay sir."

Liar.

Sir nods, sending him another small smile before he walks out.

Zoro stares through the empty doorway. Three hours. He's expecting to meet you at the restaurant
in three hours.

You can't go. Can't leave with him.

You promised yourself- if you got a job or an apartment then you'd stay.

You can't leave with him. He's not good for you.

Hands shaking beyond control, he picks up his bag and digs out his phone. Turns it back on and
dials one of five numbers he has saved on there.

The line picks up after a few rings. "Hello?"

He breathes a relieved sigh. "Blondie."

"Mosshead, is that you?"

"Y-yeah?" He's the one that gave me his number, how does he not know it's me?

"Sorry, I must've forgot to put your name in my phone. Is everything ok?"

No, everything's not okay. Sir wants me to leave with him and I feel like I'm drowning. I want to go,
even though I know I can't. Even though I know I shouldn't. "You home?"

"Yeah, uh- I'm off today, just got back from the store with Law. You wanna come over?"

Fuck, Law's there? I don't want him to see me like this. Don't want anyone to see me like this. This
was a shitty idea.

"... Zoro?"

"Sorry."

"Is something going on with you? Come over, mosshead, you don't sound right."

Shouldn't go over there. Fuck, why'd I even call him? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Always bothering
everyone.

"Come over, okay?"

He breathes in deep. Pushes down his stupid thoughts. It'll be fine. Maybe they can help keep you
away. "Ok. Thank you."

"Great, see you in a bit?"

"Yeah," he sighs, clenches his hands to stop them from shaking. "Yeah, few minutes."

He feels gross. He hadn't showered after finishing at the gym, and now he's here, at Blondie's
apartment, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, and he feels gross.

Blondie is making tea. Law is napping in another room. And Luffy isn't home.

"Sit down, Mosshead. It's almost done."

He feels restless. Wants anything else other than to sit, but Blondie invited him to come over so he
can't tell him no. He goes to the couch. Blondie joins him after a minute, passing a warm mug into
his hands.

"Thank you."

Blondie hums, sipping at his. A silence falls between them. Zoro's glad he took a few minutes to
gather his thoughts before heading over here. Everything feels slightly clearer, his mind easier to
deal with now- thoughts no longer shouting at him. He just feels oddly ... hollow.

Thankfully, Blondie doesn't try to pry anything out of him. But he's always enjoyed talking so he
tries to start up a conversation. It's really not his fault that he chooses arguably the worst topic he
could have. "So, I hear the owner of your bar is going to jail."
Zoro freezes. Then forces the tension to bleed from his body. He doesn't know. You're fine. He
mutters a, "Yeah."

Blondie continues, "News said he was some kind of ... mafia guy, I don't know. Arms dealing, sex
trafficking ... I mean isn't that crazy?"

Slowly, he nods.

"I know you worked for the guy, did you have any clue he was doing all that stuff? And what the
fuck kinda name is Crocodile," Blondie laughs a little to himself.

Zoro knows Blondie prefers to have silence filled with conversation, but fucking hell. He gets to his
feet. "Can I shower?" Is what he asks, instead of answering. The topic, along with the drying sweat
on his skin, making him increasingly uncomfortable.

Blondie blinks at him for a second, then, " Yeah, yeah, of course!" He springs to his feet, ushers
Zoro over to the bathroom. "You need a change of clothes?"

His eyebrows furrow. He looks pointedly between Blondie's slender frame, and his own bulky one.
The only time he's worn something of the cook's was when they went to the beach- and even
though they were loose on Blondie, they had barely held together on Zoro. Not to mention he's put
on around 10kg of mass since then.

Blondie grumbles. "Just offering, dumbass. I have some oversized stuff."

"I know. Thank you." He scoops up his gym bag and walks into the bathroom- he normally leaves
a change of clothes in there.

"Whatever shampoo or body wash you wanna use, go for it. You need anything else you let me
know, idiot."

Zoro cracks a small smile at the term of endearment. "Thanks," he says again, and he closes the
door. There's no rush to his movements as he strips of his now mostly dry, sweaty clothes.

He washes himself off on autopilot. When he's done he digs through his gym bag. Decides on a
white long-sleeve with the purple wings of the baroque works club on it that he had taken from Sir.
Throws on his own black sweatpants, stuffs his sweaty clothes back in the bag, and then rushes to
grip at the sink when a sudden bout of nausea hits.

It's gone as fast as it comes.

He eases his hands off the sides, hangs his head over the bowl.

Fuck. What the fuck was that?

He inhales deeply through his nose. Holds it. Then out again through the mouth.

You're fine. You're okay.

He fiddles with the sleeves around his wrists.

Sir is leaving tonight.

I can't go to him.
He swishes some water from the faucet around in his mouth. Spits it out and breathes once more.
He knows he can't go back out like this. If Blondie decides to stay on the topic of Sir, he can't have
his head messy or things will go to shit in a snap.

So he takes a few minutes. Lets his thoughts drift by slow until he can settle his mind into an easy,
meditative state.

He still feels hollow.

Cut it out. You're fine. He grabs his gym bag off the floor, throwing the towel he used into the
hamper, and turns the light off before walking out of the bathroom.

He's met with excited chatter that makes his heart melt.

Luffy is bouncing around the kitchen. Switches between hanging off of Blondie, who seems to be
cooking something, and Law, who looks like he just woke up.

Zoro walks further into the living room, and all three look up at him in unison. The sudden
attention has him averting his gaze. "Hey."

And then there's thin arms looped around his neck and he's supporting Luffy's weight against his
body.

"Zoro!"

"Hi, Luffy." His voice comes out softer than he recognizes. Luffy jumps up from the hug, wrapping
his legs around Zoro's waist and then climbing further- where is he going- finally settling atop
Zoro's shoulders.

"It's been so long." His hands move everywhere, hesitating along the scar above his ear, and then
brushing his face, shoulders, chest. As though making sure he's okay and real.

"'M right here," he reassures. Stabilizes Luffy by holding his shins.

The words have their intended effect and Luffy relaxes, hands no longer wandering everywhere,
but instead settling in his hair. Playing with it gently. "Thanks," he says, slightly sheepish. "Missed
you." Zoro can picture his cheeky smile above.

He starts walking to the kitchen but the ceiling is lower over there, and Luffy is sitting tall on his
shoulders. "Your head, Luffy."

The following pout makes no noise but is so loud. "Fine, I guess." He hmphs and climbs down
Zoro's back, though he stays arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Taking the sign that Luffy does not want to be put down, Zoro easily hoists him piggy-back style,
continues to the kitchen.

"Law, Blondie," he greets when he walks around the counter.

Blondie just smiles, at the same time checking the food he's got on the stove.

Law approaches him with easy steps.

"Glad to see you're okay, Zoro-ya." The words are genuine. Zoro nods at the unspoken question in
them. You are okay, aren't you? "How are you healing?"
Good. It barely hurts anymore. He turns his head so Law can see.

The man hums, "It does seem like it closed up nicely. Any pain?"

A shake of his head.

"And what are those from?"

Confused, Zoro looks up to find where Law's eyes are focused. Golden eyes are staring straight at
his chin.

I didn't ... 'those' what? I haven't hurt my face recently. Even my bout a couple days ago only left
me with some body-shot bruises, nothing where he's looking.

He feels Luffy stretch to see what Law is talking about. Blondie glances over as well.

Zoro looks to the floor under their scrutinizing stares. When he says nothing, Law continues, "Red
marks. Almost as though someone ..." he grabs at his own chin.

Oh. I forgot about that.

Did it bruise already? From when Sir grabbed me?

His stupid brain can't think of an excuse fast enough. He just stutters out, "It's nothing."

Their eyes don't move off him. He feels too big for the room, suddenly. Like its squeezing him
tight. Like he's taking up too much space, and how did the kitchen ever fit all four of us? Luffy
settles behind him again, at least one pair of eyes averted, nuzzling into the back of his neck. Zoro
focuses on the sensation. The chapped lips against his nape. The warm breath ghosting over skin.
And slowly, the room goes back to normal, and he can breathe again. You're fine. They're just
worried. They don't know anything that you don't tell them.

"No worries, mosshead. Hey, Law, come try this a sec." Blondie turns back to the stove- an
obvious and appreciated attempt to redirect their attention- and Law follows him. Thank fuck. Law
tries a spoonful of something orange that looks like butter chicken out of a saucepan. The cook
looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

Law hums, "It's really good," and he licks the spoon clean.

Pleased, Blondie nods and stirs the pan some more.

"Why don't you all go sit down? The rice should be done in ten, and Zoro go finish your tea- you
didn't drink it earlier. If it's too cold just heat it up."

He hums and follows Law to the couch. Luffy hops down his back, reclining into the middle
cushion. Zoro sits at the far end, though he moves closer at Luffy's complaining noise. Law starts
talking to Luffy about something or other and Zoro downs his cold tea then dozes with his eye half
open.

Blondie brings over some bowls of curry a little later, and he shakes his head a little to wake
himself up. They eat around the living room table and, Law was right, it does taste really good.

It's nice being around them again. His friends help to keep his mind off of everything else going
on. When they address him, he responds the best he can, but mostly he lets their conversation float
around his ears.
He's about to ask if he can maybe stay later into the evening if they're not busy, when his pocket
starts vibrating incessantly. The three look over at him, a question in their eyes. He pulls his phone
out, and Smoker's name blinks up at him. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes to them and stands, walking
toward the front door for a semblance of privacy before answering.

"...Zoro?"

He presses the phone to his ear. Tries not to tense. "Hey, Smoker."

"Kid, you had me worried half to death," he sounds beyond anxious. Fuck. "Why haven't you been
answering?"

"Gym," he says, aiming for simple, omitting the part where he shut his phone off for a couple
hours specifically to avoid his calls.

Smoker takes a deep breath, audible over the line. "And where are you right now?" The words
sound carefully articulated- the underlying tension feels tangible.

"Luffy's."

The man looks up at the mention of his name. Zoro shakes his head at the unspoken question,
turning his shoulder away.

"Thank god. So you're safe, you're alright?"

"Yeah," he breathes out. "Alright."

"And did you ..." he hesitates, "Did you go anywhere else?"

Did you go to see him?

His shoulders rise and fall heavily. He readjusts his grip on the phone. "I-" Don't lie. You've
already lied so much today, you have to stop. "Yeah. Home," he admits. Then, after a moment's
hesitation- because he knows Smoker will ask about it anyway, "Ran into Sir."

"You saw Crocodile."

"Yeah."

"What did he tell you?"

You can't keep lying.

I won't give him away, though. Not to the police. Not after everything he's done for me.

I'm not leaving with him, but that doesn't mean he should be forced to stay.

"Nothing, just ..." you can't tell him. "Talked."

"You just 'talked'." He can practically see the look Smoker is wearing. The man sighs, "You know
what, that's fine, kid. Just come home."

The time reads almost six.

An hour left.
You can't go to him.

And I won't. I'm not leaving with him.

"Zoro."

"Y-yeah, sorry." He clears his throat. "Couple hours?"

"Zoro, come home."

And he can't say no, not to the man who's been kind enough to give him a place to stay. He can't
say no. But also, an hour left. So he doesn't say no, he just asks again.

He doesn't plan to leave with Crocodile. But he also might just pass by their meet-up spot. See him
one more time before he leaves.

There's another sigh. "Will you stay at your friends' apartment?"

Fuck, am I just gonna keep fucking lying to him?

He says nothing. A glance over his shoulder finds his friends still talking casually. "See you ... few
hours."

"Zoro, answer me. Don't go anywhere else, okay? Once you leave Luffy's apartment, come straight
here. Promise me."

Vaguely, he's aware that Smoker might actually beat his ass if he hangs up on him for the second
time today. But he just can't promise him that. If he does, then he can't break it and then he won't
be able to-

"Promise me."

Fuck it. I'm not even gonna do anything. I'm not leaving with him. Might just stop by- that's all.

"Thanks, Smoker. Couple hours."

The man starts a protest and Zoro hangs up. He's gonna kill me when I get back.

He turns his phone off again. Takes a steadying breath. He rejoins the three on the couch, brushing
off their questions with an, "All good." And lets himself sink into the cushions. Feels like the piece
of shit he knows he is for treating Smoker like he did. Disrespectful fucking whore. And all for
what? You might not even go there.

Luffy goes on a rant about his favorite types of meat as Blondie refills their dishes. Though he
tucks himself closer to Zoro's side, as though he can sense his inner turmoil. Zoro catches Law's
eye who gives him a small smile. Blondie sets a full dish in front of him. My friends. And he
remembers how to breathe.

.
He comes upon the Italian restaurant all too quickly. Why'd I always think it was farther than this?
A rain has started up. There's a gas station just across the street and he quickly ducks into it. Stands
at the large windows facing Conti's. The lights are on, making it easy to see inside where it seems
empty- save Sir's usual table in the back. The man himself is seated, stabbing at a plate of food in
front of him. The owner is standing nearby, and there's an ease in the atmosphere. It's just before
seven. He's probably expecting me any minute now. Or thinks I got lost on the way.

"Hey! You gonna buy something?" The gas station cashier yells at him. "You can't just stand
there."

"Sorry," he nods, grabbing a random drink from the mini-fridge on the counter. He pays the
cashier his dues, then gestures that he's gonna go back to the window. The man curses at him, but
doesn't say no.

When Zoro looks through the window again, Sir is still seated. But the owner is gone, and instead
there's a woman standing next to him. She has long black hair, and she's faced away from Zoro's
view.

Who is that?

She hands Sir something, and he takes it with a smirk. Zoro squints his eye to try and catch what it
is, but it's too far, and the rain has started to blur his view. He steps back outside to try and get a
better look, leaning against the brick wall behind him to not seem overly suspicious if anyone were
to glance his way. He threw a hoodie on before leaving Blondie's apartment, and he's got the hood
up to cover his hair. Kuina's bandana hangs around his neck and he pulls it up over his nose to
further cover himself.

Stopping by. You're just stopping by, remember?

The woman gestures at Crocodile seemingly angrily. He continues to smile up at her, and there's
something self-satisfied in the expression.

There's another exchange of hands, this time she hands Sir over some type of envelope. He seems
to invite her to sit, but she refuses, gesturing one more time before turning away.

Zoro's mouth drops open. Or it would have if he wasn't clenching his jaw so hard.

Because the woman walking away from Crocodile is Miss Robin.

She knows Sir. Robin knows Sir? How?

Robin walks out into the rain, sighing heavily once the door swings shut behind her like she's just
been through an exhausting ordeal. She doesn't move, just stands there, looking down the street
like she's waiting for something. A ride maybe. Shit, what the fuck was she doing with Sir? Does
she work for him and I just never met her before?

Sir glances down at his watch, then out the restaurant windows. Looking for me. Zoro freezes. But
the dark eyes don't even glance at him.

A different set does though.

Zoro looks back to Robin and finds her staring straight at him. He can't tell from this distance if
there's recognition in her eyes or not, but he can see the apologetic smile she sends him. Fuck, I'm
all covered up, how does she know it's me? I've only fucking met her twice.

She finally moves her gaze away and her smile shifts into something different when she looks
down the street again.

Suddenly there's the wailing sound of sirens. Red and blue lights reflect off the walls. Off the rain.
And off the windows of Conti's as police cars swarm the street. Zoro's eye snaps to Crocodile.

Sir looks up and barely has the chance to stand- is halfway toward pulling his gun- when a hoard of
policemen flood inside, guns drawn. Zoro can hear them shouting at him through the open door,
though he can't make out exactly what they're saying.

The gun is thrown away. They get him in handcuffs.

Something in Zoro's heart clenches.

He steps forward.

Catches himself.

What the fuck am I doing?

Sir is walked out, a few weapons pointed at him. When he sees Robin in front of one of the cars he
just laughs- it's a ferocious sound. Echoes of it bounce over to Zoro, and he can hear the rawness in
it. Sir spits at her feet.

Zoro tugs his bandana down as he crosses the street. What are you doing, you idiot? He pushes
past a police officer that tries to step in his path. Sir gets shoved into the back of a squad car. Zoro
rushes over just as the cop gets in to drive off.

Sir looks up at him behind the rolled-up window. Their gazes meet. Expressions so full of emotion
that they're unreadable. Then there's hands at his arms and he's being pulled away.

"Get off me!" He's yelling and he can barely hear himself. The car drives away. Hands on him are
released, replaced with a softer touch. He turns, flinching out of the hold, and meets Robin.

"Zoro," she says carefully, calmly. Voice half drowned out by the increasing downpour. He can't
focus on her. Too much just happened in too little time and he can't focus on her. Smoker was right.
I should've just went straight back. I didn't need to see this. Didn't need to know this happened.
Could've stayed fucking oblivious and thinking that Sir was able to get away.

"Let me take you home."

His breath shudders out of his lungs. He can't hear it over the rain. Why is everything so goddamn
loud.

"Come on, let's get you home."

.
 .

Chapter End Notes

WHATD U THINK

cant believe i updated this in less than 2 weeks honestly (any mistakes pls lmk, i barely
looked at this lol)
at first i was not liking how this chapter was turning out and then i read over it once
and was like. yk what its alright

soooooooooooo yea lmk all ur favorite lil things !!

definitely dk when next chpt will be up but thank yall for ur patience as always <3
 theres an apology ready on my tongue, thank you
Chapter Summary

smoker is not happy, zoro experiences some catharsis

and some t raining filler near the end !

Chapter Notes

uh yea so 1- so sorry this took me a month to update, thanks for being patient <3 n if u
need a refresh on where we left off last chapter, i know i did so go ahead lol
2- i did kind of rush this but hopefully its not too shit, i think it has its moments
3- enjoy !!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"So you don't remember me."

The car rumbles loud down the street. He glances at the cabbie- who is in his own world,
humming along to soft music through the speakers- then over to Robin. The question is phrased as
a statement. It's the first thing she's said to him since they got in the taxi- which she insisted on
calling rather than taking public transport.

Zoro is not in the mood to talk so he doesn't.

He does shake his head as an answer, because he doesn't want to be rude.

She hums. "You've been with Crocodile for some time now, haven't you?"

He nods, slowly. Though the way she asks it is like she already knows.

"Do you know why I was there tonight?"

He shakes his head. Robin had handed Sir some things. They obviously knew each other. And then
the police showed up. An envelope, wasn't it? The second thing she gave him. "Envelope?"

Her head tilts from one side to the other and she contemplates his answer.

"Yes." Her tone is careful. "Yes, I handed him an envelope. He didn't ... he never talked about
me?"

He shakes his head again. Sir never told him anything about Robin, or that he was meeting with
someone else tonight before Zoro was supposed to leave with him. I've seen her somewhere,
though. There's something familiar about her eyes.
Zoro can see the words turning over in her head, a debate if she should say more or not. She
glances out the window. Sighs, resigned. "Well, we're almost to the apartment. A story for another
time, I suppose."

And he's curious- how do I know you?- but he's got no energy to push, so he lets her let it go.

A couple minutes pass and they're coming up on the apartment. Robin pays the driver and he
follows her out onto the curb. The rain hasn't let up.

She rushes inside to get out of it. Hesitates by the door when she turns and realizes he hasn't
moved.

"Zoro?"

Water soaks into his skin for a long minute.

He doesn't want to go in.

Doesn't want to face their inevitable anger.

They might make me leave. Might not let me live here anymore. I hung up on Smoker- twice. Didn't
listen to him. What good am I if I don't listen?

But ... fuck it- it's the consequences of his own actions. He has never backed away from them
before. He won't back out of them now.

"Coming, Miss Robin."

Hina grabs him before she even finishes opening the door. It's not in the way he expects.

There's no shoving, no bruising grip, or spat words.

Instead she just leads him inside, a warm hand on his shoulder. Says his name with no malice and
greets Robin in an easy tone.

On the elevator ride up he had grown increasingly tense. Couldn't help it, really. He expected
anger, expected ...

This doesn't make sense.

Now his tension has nowhere to go.

Hina is saying something or other to Robin, still in that calm voice of hers.

Maybe she's waiting you out a little, to see what you'll do. If you'll apologize on your own. Maybe
she just doesn't want to react in front of her friend. Or maybe she won't react at all because Smoker
wants to be the one to do it. To tell me I can't stay here anymore.

Smoker is nowhere to be seen for the time being.

As such, he doesn't yet let go of the tightness in his braced shoulders.

He doesn't sit either. He was bad, and he didn't listen, so he figures he's not allowed. Hina takes her
seat on the couch and Robin across from her, and she doesn't say anything to give him permission,
so he knows he's right. At least she isn't making me kneel.

Despite himself, he thinks that might be easier though. To just get it over with.

But she seems not to care about speaking to him at all- intent on talking with Robin first. He clues
in enough to know they're discussing the events of the night.

And then Smoker walks out from the bathroom and everything goes quiet.

A teapot whistles faintly from the kitchen.

Hina gets up to go to it and Robin follows, though it seems like more of just an excuse to give them
space.

Smoker barely spares them a glance.

There was relief in the way he held himself when he first walked out and saw Zoro. Now the
expression is replaced by anger.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Words sincere, Zoro apologizes immediately, and bows his head. Waits for judgement.

He can hear the man inhale deeply through his nose. Then a long exhale.

"You're okay?"

His eyebrows raise of their own accord. He keeps his head to the floor. Nods, because Smoker
hasn't indicated if he wants him to stay verbal or not.

"You lied to me."

There it is. He pinches his shoulders up to his ears. Smoker waits for a response. "I'm sorry," Zoro
repeats.

"That doesn't change what you did."

"I know."

"When did he tell you that he was going to be at the restaurant today?"

What? "Seven."

"No," he says, words slow. "I know what time he was there. What I'm asking is- you knew where
he was going to be tonight. When did he tell you that?"

Oh.

He wants to know how long I've been lying. Fuck.

Just be honest. You've already lied to him enough. He won't let you stay here if you keep lying.

"Hospital."
A sharp inhale.

Zoro ducks his chin further into his chest. "Sorry." He says. Because he won't give excuses so
apologies are all he has.

"So you've known- for weeks now- that he was planning on leaving."

His throat feels dry. "Yes."

"And were you going to leave with him? This whole time were you just using this as a place to stay
until you could leave with him?"

"Wasn't," rapidly, he shakes his head, "I promise. And I didn't, I-"

"Then why the fuck were you there, Zoro?" His voice is a shout and it raises on a steep crescendo.
Zoro doesn't think he's ever heard the man so loud.

He tries to find words. They've always abandoned him when he needs them most- they abandon
him now.

He's perfectly still except his eye shifting back and forth over the floorboard in front of him-
searching for a way to articulate that I was just passing by. I wasn't going with him- I wouldn't have
went with him.

But he struggles to open his mouth and let them out.

Smoker huffs out a frustrated breath.

The kitchen is in Zoro's blindspot but he feels Hina and Robin's eyes on them.

"I want you to have the freedom to go wherever you want, kid. I didn't want to restrict you
anything. But when you refuse to tell me where you're going and I know there's a high chance
you're going somewhere where you'll be in danger, I just ..."

"Wasn't in danger," he blurts out. Shut up. Don't interrupt him, stupid. Still, he swears, "Was safe."

"Zoro, look at yourself!"

He snaps his arms behind his back at the outburst. Clutches them in a tight grasp. Look at you.

Dirty. Pathetic.

He considers getting to his knees.

"Smoker," Hina's voice sounds from the kitchen. It's a warning and Zoro has no idea why.
Smoker's right. He's right and he's angry. I disrespected him. I didn't listen to him, I should've just
fucking-

A hand rests on the left side of face, thumb over his scarred-closed eye.

The room shrinks. There's an ocean in his ears.

He thinks it feels rough- the pad of Smoker's thumb on his eyelid- but the nerves there have been
dead for years, so he isn't too sure.

"Look at yourself." His voice has quieted. And with a shock Zoro recognizes- he's hurt. Because
that's the other emotion in Smoker's words. Hurt. Not just anger.

And fuck. What the fuck do I do with that?

"Do you really think you could ever be safe with a man that took this away from you?" He brushes
his thumb over the scar once before dropping his hand. "How much else has he done to you." The
hand gestures to his body- to the brutal marks they both know are there, hidden by baggy clothes.
"How much else has he taken from you?"

The answer goes unspoken.

"You've never been safe with him, kid." A questioning wave to the bruises on his chin. "And those
are from today. From him?"

Zoro finds a breath somewhere in his constricted lungs, "Yeah."

Smoker sighs, and Zoro hears the bone-deep weariness in it. Hears it because he's been feeling it
too. Because it's all he's felt for the past two weeks since he first thought Sir died.

"Fuck, I can't-" His fists clench like he wants to punch something. "I'm going to get some air." He's
grabbing a cigar from the box on the table and pulling out his lighter, then, and it takes Zoro a
second to react to the feeling of wrongness those actions give him. He wants a break from you, but
it's his house. He shouldn't be the one to leave.

"Sorry," he moves to the door before Smoker can reach it. "I'll go."

Hina and Smoker say his name at the same time. Smoker approaches slow. "You're fine, kid. I'll be
back in a minute."

Zoro shakes his head. It's your house, I should leave. Not you. "Your place. You stay."

He pulls in a deep breath. Patience hovering over the edge. "Move, Zoro." And Zoro moves.
Smoker brushes past him as he wrenches the door open. "Stay here. We'll talk more later, alright? I
just need some fresh air."

"It's raining out," Hina calls.

"Few minutes," he grunts in response, then pulls the door closed behind himself.

Zoro stares at it, thoughts scattered.

There's a loose hold at his wrist. "C'mon, hun. You're okay." He's led over to the couch. Still in
trouble. I shouldn't sit down. But Hina insists, so he wedges himself into the corner.

She attempts to hand him a mug of tea. "Can't, I'm-" He's shaking almost violently. Can imagine
the tea spilling over the sides if he tried to hold it now.

He fists his hands into his lap to try and quell it.

"It's gonna be okay. You're not in trouble, alright?" She takes out a cigarette.

"He's just worried about you. You scared us, today."

Sorry, I'm sorry. You've been so kind to me, I should never have lied. It won't happen again. The
words get caught in his throat.
"Breathe, hun. You need to breathe."

I'm trying. He takes a deep breath that fails to fill his lungs. I'm trying.

Her cigarette is lit and offered in front of him. He grasps for it. It trembles between his fingers and
he takes a long drag. Tries to pull the smoke into his mouth like much needed air.

The taste is an old friend. He holds it in his lungs for a long few seconds. It forces the frantic
beating of his heart to slow and then he blows it out on a heaving exhale.

"There you go. You're alright," she eases the cigarette out of his loose hold. Takes a few of her own
puffs.

Forcefully, he presses his wide back against the couch. Uses the pressure to ground himself. I'm
sorry I freaked out. Sorry I disrespected Smoker and lied to you both. "Thank you." He pushes
himself back harder into the cushion, stays present. "Thank you."

Hina squeezes an unsteady hand in her own. "Think you can take that tea now? Your voice isn't
sounding too good."

The hand not being held still tremors slightly, but he knows the tea will soothe his scratched throat.
He doesn't even know why it's like this. He hasn't taken anything in his mouth since the vacation
so it must be his anxious exhaustion making him sound so rough.

Robin picks up her own mug, then passes Zoro's into his hand. He thanks her, and the warm sip
feels heavenly going down. It shakes when he lowers it into his lap.

Hina and Robin get on to continuing their conversation. Zoro tries to ignore the static in his head.

A few minutes pass. Smoker walks back in looking more tired than before. But his anger is no
longer a visible thing, and the grip around his wet cigar is loose. His shoulders are damp with rain.

Hina doesn't pause in her conversation this time. Smoker's eyes settle on him, heavy. "Get some
rest, Zoro."

"Smoker?"

Didn't he say he wanted to talk once he came back? I'm still in trouble, I know it.

"I'm tired. We're all tired." He shrugs off his rain-spattered jacket and lays it over the back of a side
chair. "We can discuss some more things come morning. And I'm not trying to restrict you, either,
but please no late-night walks tonight." He knew about those? "Just stay here for the night, okay?"

He nods.

"Good. Hin?"

She looks up with a hum.

"I have to work early tomorrow. Garp called me about a few things need to be taken care of and
there's lots of paperwork about tonight I gotta do too."

"Okay, what time?"

"Not sure yet, but I'll set an alarm. Just make sure I don't sleep through it?" He walks around the
table to her. He leans down and they peck a kiss on opposite cheeks.
"No problem. Go rest up- I'll join you in a few."

He nods, wishing them each a good night and disappears past the bathroom door.

Robin finishes her tea and stands. "I'll get going, anyway. My fiance is probably waiting for me at
home, and I have yet to update him about what happened tonight." Hina stands with her. They hug
briefly. At the door, Robin puts on her trench coat and then her attention is on him. "I'm sorry you
had to experience all of that earlier, Zoro."

"S'okay," he shrugs, "my fault."

She hums. "Perhaps next time I can tell you our story." And she walks through the door without
pause. Our story. Why'd she say 'our'? "Call me tomorrow?" She says to Hina.

"I will," and the door is shut behind her. Hina sighs, puffs on the end of a cigarette. "I suppose I
should get to bed as well. Do you want me to pull out the couch for you?"

"No thank you, Miss Hina." He helps her in cleaning up the table, not bothering to move it or pull
the mattress out yet. There's an calm silence between them.

She's really not going to yell at me.

He's astonished by the thought.

His breathing has evened out from earlier, so when she tells him everything will be okay and not to
worry, he responds in a mostly steady, affirmative tone.

"Thank you."

She smiles. "I know your clothes got wet earlier, so if you want you can shower- the sound won't
bother anyone. Do try to get some sleep tonight though, Zoro."

"Okay."

And with that she bids him goodnight and follows Smoker's earlier path to their bedroom.

He sighs once he hears their door close. Forces himself to pick up his feet as he walks over to the
coat closet. They've let him keeps his clothes here for the time being. He grabs a relaxed outfit at
random, barely glancing at the articles before heading to the bathroom. He shucks off his clothes
that smell like street-rain. Tosses them in the hamper but not before slipping the metal circle from
earlier out his pants pocket and setting it on the counter.

The shower is quick, which is admittedly a hard feat with his body is feeling as heavy as it does.
Fresh clothes are slipped on and he brushes his teeth before heading back to the couch.

They didn't punish me. Didn't even threaten me with anything. No promises of taking away the gym
or my fight nights. Fuck. Is Smoker just waiting to do it tomorrow?

But no ... they don't own you like Sir does- did? Shit. Don't think about it.

So even if they did order you around, you don't have to listen, do you? You could just leave.

Do they know that too? Is that why they didn't do anything to me?

He unfolds the fuzzy blanket from its spot next to the couch and tucks himself in small in the
couch corner- small for him, of course, means taking up half the couch without trying.
Sir's ring is cold in his right hand. It warms under his touch as he twirls it between his fingers.

He watches the motion from under the blanket in a daze.

Sleep does not find him for hours.

Light has just started to trickle in through the blinds when he closes his eye to rest for the first time
that night- morning?

stop thinking

Tired ... Sleep .

So he does.

What couldn't have been more than thirty minutes later, he's woken up by the sound of liquid
sputtering. The smell of coffee fills the air.

He uncurls the fingers of his right hand which had been fisted around the gold ring. Let's it rest in
his palm as he turns his head to the kitchen. His burning eye spots Smoker in front of the machine.
His white hair is matted on one side and disheveled on the other. Feeling Zoro's eye on him, he
glances up. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."

Zoro shakes his head, lowering his legs over the side of the couch and standing. "Breakfast?" His
voice is a deep croak.

He glances at the time. "No, just go back to sleep, Zoro. I got it."

But Zoro is already folding the blanket back up and walking to the kitchen. Smoker pours the
steaming liquid into a mug and hums when he sips at it. Zoro cups some water into his mouth from
the kitchen sink and spits it, then rubs at his eye which is still burning. He washes his face and
hands. Making sure to give a wide berth around Smoker, he walks over to the cabinet next to the
oven and pulls out a small frying pan. "Eggs?"

Smoker sighs.

Zoro tenses. Fuck. It's too early for this.

"You didn't pull the mattress out." Smoker says, which doesn't answer the question. "Why don't I
pull it out and you can try and get some more sleep." He starts walking around the counter.

Zoro's arm reaches out automatically, though he doesn't actually go to touch the man. "Breakfast."

Smoker stops in his path, levels an even- weary- gaze at Zoro. "How much did you sleep last
night?"

He tilts his head to the floor. "Don't matter." His clothes feel heavy on his skin.

"How many hours."

Zoro glances at the far wall. He's not sure exactly what time he fell asleep but there's only a little
more light coming through the window than there was at the time. Thirty minutes. Like I thought.
Maybe an hour max? "Half."

"Half ..." his brows furrow, "Half- you mean half an hour?"

He nods.

Smoker shakes his head, making nuh-uh-uh sounds and walking towards Zoro. "You. Sleep.
Now."

Zoro steps back, pointing to the frying pan he set on the stove. "Breakfast," he repeats, tone
respectful but insistent because he knows Smoker's stubbornness is a thing to be reckoned with.

The man runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up further than it was. "I can make myself
breakfast Zoro, don't be ridiculous."

Which is not another demand for him to go back to bed so he takes it, turns to the fridge. "Eggs."

He goes to argue, maybe demand Zoro get out of the kitchen, before relenting with a weary nod.
"Yeah. Yeah, alright. If you don't wanna sleep, you want some coffee?" He offers just to be nice,
like he always does, even though he knows Zoro doesn't drink it.

"No."

"I'm gonna get ready for work." He finishes his mug and sets it in the sink. Thanks him in a
genuine tone.

Zoro acknowledges him with a hum, then whisks a few eggs together with some spices and a splash
of milk. He pours them into the hot oiled pan and cuts up a few things to add to the omelet he has
decided to make. Smoker and Hina like simple things for breakfast- bagels, eggs, oatmeal, come to
think of it, Hina might be awake too. Should I make an omelet for her?

But Smoker didn't say anything. Normally he'll tell me if she's up.

Guess I'll just ask when he gets out.

He sets the plate in front of Smoker's chair along with a glass of orange juice that he knows the
man tends to enjoy with his morning cigar.

Then he heads back over to the couch to wait. Throwing the blanket back over himself he's halfway
to dozing again when the bathroom door opens. Smoker walks out, dressed for work and a badge at
his hip.

"Thank you," he walks over to the table, already smoking his first cigar of the morning. Zoro nods,
pulling the blanket up over his chin.

"Miss Hina?"

Smoker sips at the juice, follows it with a puff. "Still sleeping."

Zoro hums. The sound bleeds into a broken-off sleepy exhale.

"What you did yesterday, Zoro ... you can't do it again. You understand that, right?"

He peers over at Smoker, eye barely open. "I know. Won't."

"Good." He bites into the omelet with a fork. Swallows before continuing. "And you know I'd
never hurt you. Right?"

At that Zoro has to shrug.

He knows from experience how little it can take to push a man to violence. How often even the
smallest things Zoro did angered Sir into beating him blue, fucking him rough. And sometimes
there were worse things than physical hurt. Sometimes the worst hurt came from harsh degradation
and biting words.

Though also in Zoro's experience he deserved it all. Always my fault, but never more than I could
handle.

Question ... he asked me a question, didn't he? Wanted to know if I thought he'd ever treat me that
way.

"You think I could hurt you?" Smoker's pitch climbs, steeped in some emotion Zoro is too tired to
place.

Zoro just shrugs again. Explaining, "Only if ... did somethin' ... deserved it."

"You'll never deserve to be hurt, kid. No one deserves that, you understand?"

He doesn't. Not really. But he's also craving the crash of sleep and doesn't think he can hold up a
conversation much longer. He manages a nod.

Sensing it, or maybe just done saying his piece, Smoker brings the attention to more mundane
things. "Well, anyway, the omelet is really good, kid, thank you."

"Welcome," he mutters, tiredness holding his tongue heavy and hostage- unable to say any more.
Unable to ask for his forgiveness, or thank him profusely for letting him stay. You're still in
trouble, stupid. Don't forget. You need to show him you're sorry. But he's too tired for that too.

Smoker puts away his food quickly, always a fast eater, and drops the dish in the sink.

"Hopefully I won't have to be too late at work today, Will you be here when I get back?"

Shaking himself slightly out of his sleep bubble he nods. He should be home in the evening. Later
he'll probably hit the gym and shower before coming back to make dinner. When he asks what
Smoker wants him to make tonight, the man gives a firm 'no, we'll order in'.

Zoro doesn't push. His working eye refuses to open and so he lets himself just relax into the
cushion.

Then Smoker sounds closer than before. "Your first day is later tonight?"

He nods.

A hand ruffles his hair. Zoro leans up into the large palm, eye still closed.

"Well, good luck. You'll do just fine. Call if you need anything, okay?" His voice is steady and
reassuring, and Zoro knows he's not out of the woods yet, but can't help being ever relieved to not
hear it strained in anger as it was yesterday.

He lets the hand slip out of his hair without protest. "Thank you."
.

The morning after he finishes his first overnight shift at the diner, he goes for a run.

It was a good shift. Jessica showed him more things, and he served a good mix of truckers and
hospital workers that were all polite.

So yeah, it was a good shift. But the whole time there was that ... thing under his skin.

That itch. That buildup of ugly emotions that started clawing at his ribs. Like a monster given
form. It only got worse as the hours passed.

He had brought his gym bag with him to work and so he changes in the back, switches his maroon
server shirt for a hoodie, his black pants for joggers. And he hops on a bus.

It's packed with the morning rush. People brush against him at each small jolt, and every touch
pulls his shoulders up higher and higher. He's practically hunched into himself in an attempt to
make himself as small as possible when a little girl sneaks through the legs of a man next to him.

She has wide brown eyes and she stares up at him with a confused look before smiling brightly.
Something in Zoro's lungs squeezes at the expression.

"Hi, little one." He winces at the sound of his own voice- much too rough for a kid so small.

She doesn't seem to mind, beaming smile widening and she shouts back, "Hiya! Is your hair
grass?"

He blinks at the question. "Uh ..."

A woman pushes past the man at his right, grabs the arm of the little girl. "No talking to strangers,"
she sounds exasperated, like she's used to it. "Ikou, our stop is next."

"But kaachan he has a grass head!"

And honestly Zoro is just surprised that she saw his ugly mug and decided to focus on his hair.

"I'm very sorry about her," the mother apologizes, accent prominent. Zoro doesn't mind at all, if
anything this whole thing has distracted a little him from the feelings sitting heavy in his stomach.

He doesn't fully look at the woman when he says, " Daijoubu desu," but he can see her expression
soften out the corner of his eye. He leans down a little toward the girl, "Watashinotomodachi ni
'marimo' to yoba remasu." His tongue fumbles clumsily over the words of a language he still
remembers but has no one left to speak it to.

But the girl understands him well enough and she laughs like he's told the funniest joke ever.
Gleefully she starts singing "Marimo, marimo, marimo!" even as the mother hushes her, sending
him one last apologetic look before ushering them over to the door as the bus comes to a stop.

He watches them get off the bus safely and realizes that he's smiling. A genuine, eye-crinkled
smile.
Then he catches someone looking at him with a dirty smirk and the smile drops instantly along
with his eye. Everything else is a blur and he rocks back and forth on his feet as he waits. The
initial crowd dwindles and past a certain stop not many others get on. Most have filed out by the
time the bus gets to his stop. He thanks the driver and walks out into winter air. The beach
stretches out ahead.

He doesn't take his eye off the water, so blue that it feels like the color is reflecting onto the sand-
bathing everything in a sort of stormy hue.

Aimless, he walks along the sidewalk until he reaches a small shack of a building that probably
opens to serve food later in the day. He sets his bag against the paneled wall and stretches out his
legs. A small ways away winds a bike trail. He makes his way over and takes a deep breath before
starting up to a steady jog.

After a few minutes he picks up the pace until he's running. A solid pace that has cold wind
whipping at his cheeks. He stays light on his feet even as they eat up miles of the trail. His face is
cold and his hands are numb. But he just keeps his breathing under control and pushes through
until the markers on the side of the path indicate he's gone about four miles. For the last one, he
switches between jogging and sprinting at 30-second intervals.

Every sprint he puts his all into, and it's no different with the last one- his lungs burning as he
finishes. He slows from a sprint to a jog until he's walking to cool-down.

Belatedly, now that his mind is not occupied with the run, he realizes that he still has to go to
where he left his bag five miles back.

Well, it's not like I had much else planned for this morning.

He presses his frozen fingers to his equally frozen cheeks and relishes in the heat of the contact.
There's a small public drinking fountain a few feet away that he takes small sips out of. The beach
is empty this early on a weekday, and he had hardly passed two other people on his whole run.
Looking around, he sees a small concrete dock across the beach. Not really thinking, he walks onto
the sand and toward it. The winds are harsher this close to the water and he walks until he's at the
end of the short pier.

The waves are choppy. They splash up against the stone sides and he sits down on a dry patch, lets
his legs dangle over the edge.

His run had helped ease the tangle of emotions overgrowing in his ribcage. But there's still ...

He doesn't know if he's even thinking about anything specific when the first tear falls.

Maybe it's being around the sand and water that has him feeling vulnerable in this way, but he
hasn't let himself feel much of anything in weeks and knows keeping everything inside will only
make it worse. So he doesn't stop himself when the need hits and he grips his thighs tight and
screams out hoarse to the endless ocean.

When he's done his throat feels scratchy. He wraps his arms around himself and stares out at the
rippling blue waves.

Everything that happened, happened. It's in the past now, and if you dwell on it, you'll drown.

Fingers dig into his biceps.

You're still here. Still fighting.

You will become more than you are.

The familiar mantra feels more tangible today.

Some water sprays against his side. He finds the breath coming easier from his lungs. Tears stain
his cheek which grows steadily colder under frosty winds. With one last long exhale, a heavy
pressure is lifted off his chest. And the hollow feeling he'd grown accustomed to as of late goes
with it.

He gets back to his feet, deciding to stay along the coastline rather than on the bike trail as he
walks back. The sand flattens under his shoes and he wipes at his face with the sleeve of his
hoodie. His head and heart feel clear. Clearer than they have in a long time.

After some minutes, the wind dies down to a soft breeze. Air becomes more still and for the first
time since he started his run, he tunes into the sound of seagulls cawing from above.

At some point on his walk back, the sun emerges past thick gray clouds. It reflects beautifully off
the water. It's deceptively bright though, because it's not warm- he supposes that's to be expected
for late winter. Still, it feels nice on his skin. He keeps his eye forward and his head tilted up
toward the cool rays.

Eventually he makes his way back to the beach shed. His bag is untouched and he takes out his
water and a protein bar, gulping down both before resting it on his shoulders.

He takes the bus back to Smoker's apartment. Roadwork normally leaves him energized, but the
long walk back and his shift last night have him feeling worn, and he knows he needs to get some
rest if he wants to be at all functional later. It's 11am so he's not surprised to find the apartment
empty. It takes less than an hour to make some natto over rice- they don't have a rice cooker but
he's gotten used to boiling it in the few weeks he's been here. After eating he makes sure to clean
up and leaves the dishes to dry while he uses the bathroom. He changes into a clean oversized
short-sleeved shirt and some shorts.

Then he pulls out the couch and he's asleep almost as soon as he pulls the blanket over his head.

He wakes up a few hours later. Feeling pretty well-rested he pushes the mattress back in and goes
to the kitchen. The time reads almost five so he starts dinner. Decides on soba with shrimp tempura
because it's quick and he hasn't made it in a while. Cooking has always been a relaxing thing for
him and he loses track of time as he tends to the food. When it's done, he eats a small bowl and
leaves the rest to stay warm on the stove. Then changes into a hoodie and sweatpants, takes his
work clothes out of his bag, and packs it for the gym.

Smoker and Hina still aren't home. He hasn't seen either of them since before he left for his shift
last night, and he feels bad to just leave but he needs to go train.

He takes the subway out to it and there's a lightness to his step he's not sure is from his run earlier
or from the sleep he got just now. Either way his smile comes easy when he greets Jinbe at the
door. Warm-ups are quick and then he's throwing himself into bag work. He stays heavy with it,
doing more rounds than normal. There's nothing to distract him from his training today, and
nothing he needs distracting from, so he's hyper-focused. Each combo is thrown with intent. Each
hit a purpose.

Even as he tires nearing five minutes of three times as many rounds and his arms burn and his legs
ache, he tries not to let the fatigue cloud his mind.

He's just finished up his last round when a large shadow comes over him.

It's Jinbe, looming tall, and he turns to meet him. The huge man is smiling- a toothy expression-
with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans. "Something weighing heavy on you? You've
been at the bag for a while now."

Zoro shakes his head, "Just training," as he unwraps his hands.

"I hear you've been doing good at the Cutty Flam."

He shrugs. I haven't lost since I started back but I can be better. Sparring normally gave me a good
edge, exposed my weaknesses in practice so I could work at them before a bout- but fuck I haven't
sparred anyone in a minute. "Needa spar more."

Jinbe hums. An inked blue serpent flexes along with his forearm when he crosses his arms on his
chest. "I could spar with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, maybe show you some things. I used to do-"

"Wrestling." Zoro blurts, because he hasn't known the man for long, but he's obviously a wrestler
through and through. Then immediately apologizes for interrupting.

Jinbe doesn't seem angry at the interruption. Seems surprised, if anything. "How'd you know?"

He contemplates it for a second. "... you have- walk."

And then the man laughs something loud and bright and claps a hand over Zoro's shoulder.

Zoro looks at the large palm, then back up at the man's goattee and round face- not sure if he can
still blame the high flush of his cheeks on just his workout.

"There's a walk, huh. Wrestlers have a certain walk?"

He hopes Jinbe doesn't think he's making fun of him. Still, hesitant, he nods.

"Is it a bad walk?" Zoro shakes his head- it's not bad, just distinctive. "Well that's good at least."
Composing himself, and maybe realizing he's still touching Zoro, he drops his hand- though the
smile remains. "But yes, I used to wrestle. I never got into boxing so I couldn't help you with that,
but if you need a partner on the ground a couple times a week, I'd be happy to."

"Thank you," he bows his head.

"Oh no problem, it'd be good exercise for me anyway." Zoro sees him tap at his larger belly a
little.
Nodding, Zoro debates on how to ask- "Did you ... we could ..." Jinbe's confused eyes lock onto
him. Zoro clears his throat. It's fine. You're fine- you have to offer. "I can help you out too."

If anything, he seems more confused. "What do you mean?"

Cursing internally, he tries not to let his muscles stiffen as he puts himself in the man's space. Only
a foot between them, he keeps his head tilted down, and then so his intention can't be missed,
reaches his hands out until they're just hovering over the man's jeans. "Can help you out."

"Oh." His eyes widen and he steps back immediately.

Zoro hides his sigh of relief at the distance.

"No, no. I don't expect anything of you, Zoro. And I'm not interested in men."

Every words eases his tension, and he smiles something grateful. "Sorry."

"No, that's quite alright. Did you want to spar today?"

He shakes his head. "Just boxing. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sure-" Someone by the front desk waves him over, and he gives Zoro an apologetic look.
"Sounds good. I'll be here in the afternoon."

He thanks him again before the man walks away. Sips at his water before finishing up his workout
with some weighted pressing movements. On his way out, Jinbe is nowhere to be seen, and he had
wanted to express his appreciation once more, but figures it can always wait till tomorrow. Cold air
greets him at the door and he adjusts his gym bag over his shoulders.

The subway isn't too busy which makes sense for the hour. Impulse has him going past the stop for
Smoker's house.

All the talk of sparring earlier made him eager for it, and he's been thinking about looking for a
place to find a new challenge for a while anyway. So he takes the line out to a random stop and just
starts wandering.

Here we go. He doesn't know how much time has passed, but it doesn't feel like too long before
he's coming up on a boxing gym.

A large black and white sign with circles is posted outside with some words on it that Zoro doesn't
bother to try reading. The entrance is basement level and there's a small set of stairs leading down
to it. He takes them without second thought. When he opens the door he's met first with the smell.
Then with the sound of bags being hit, steel clinking together, and grunting.

There's no front desk, so he walks in, weaves through people mid-workout to get to the back where
a pair is sparring. One man- the coach he assumes- is directing the both of them, pointing out tips
and advice as they throw punches at each other. A small group of people stand off to the side,
watching, just like they watch Zoro walk up.

None of them approach him though, so he patiently waits for the pair's round to be done so he can
speak with the coach. A clock off to the side buzzes and they break apart, neither looking too
gassed. The coach gives them each a short list of what to work on before turning to the spectating
group. "Okay, Nero, Jabra, you're with me." He waves over two taller guys. "The rest of you, don't
just stand there, do some fucking work while you're waiting." He goes to reset the buzzer on the
floor and Zoro interrupts him with an outstretched hand.
The coach looks at the hand like it did him a great offense and Zoro quickly retracts it. "Can I help
you?"

"Sorry, Mister. Spar?"

"Excuse me?"

Zoro clears his throat. Points to himself, "Different gym, heavyweight." Tries to keep his stuttering
to a minimum. "Could spar? Few rounds?"

"So you just walked in here thinking I'd let you spar?"

Zoro shrugs. He's done it at another gym before a few years ago, and they hadn't minded, just made
him pay a small fee. If this place doesn't let him, he'll go wander until he finds one that will. He
pulls out his wallet and takes out a twenty. "Few rounds?" He asks again.

The man scoffs, finishes setting the timer and straightens up. "Maybe you don't remember me, but
I sure as hell remember you; there's not many fighters walking around with only one eye. You
fought one of my guys a few months back- Kaku." Kaku. Kaku ...? He tries to place the name, but
he normally just remembers other fighters by their faces and styles. At his blank look, the man
sighs. "Square nose, tall and thin."

Right. My first fight back.

He nods his recognition. Doesn't apologize at beating the man because they had both stepped into
the cage willingly. The offer is mutual anyway- Zoro gets practice, sure, but so does whoever he
tangles with. "Both ... good for," and he points to the group of men lingering behind him.

The coach considers him for a long moment. Then he snatches the bill from Zoro's hand. "Alright,
go get some gear on. If I see even one dirty shot from you," he holds his finger up in a way he
probably intends to be menacing. As if Zoro would ever fight dirty. "I'm putting you out on your
ass."

Zoro nods, grateful. "Thank you, Mister." And he puts on his wraps.

.
Chapter End Notes

i have a lot of ideas for next chapter that im just writing down write now and will
probably patch together later- theres lots of robin foreshadowing here and im so
excited to tell how she knows zoro next chapter (its not happy, sorry in advance)

idk if yall liked this chapter, i definitely had a lot of feels writing the part with smoker
in the beginning, and the quick thing w jinbe ughh /// but it was fun including other
factors from one piece like cp-9 (the gym zoro goes to @ the end) in this universe just
for fun, anyway lmk what u liked/didnt and any of ur favorite parts ! i Love All Ur
Comments <3

also quick translation from the bus, zoro tells the mom its ok and the little girl that his
friends call him marimo (mossball)
 and they've never hurt me (how did you know)
Chapter Summary

uhhh new chapter . thats it.

Chapter Notes

honestly ? not bad for a 2 wk update (probably)

unhealthy thoughts ahead that are honestly par for the course rn

enjoy !

See the end of the chapter for more notes

"I think it'd be good if you got some sleep."

You want to be good for me, don't you?

He nods.

"I can take you to the doctor if you'd like." Smoker leans against the far wall, drinking his morning
coffee. Zoro got back from his bout around midnight last night and hasn't slept since. Hasn't really
done much past stare out the dark window blankly for hours- which is how Smoker found him this
morning.

"For what?" It comes out a tired rasp, and he doesn't look at Smoker when he talks.

Footsteps approach until Smoker is standing above him. Zoro bows his head further, exposing the
nape of his neck. Smoker sighs. The couch dips next to him a moment after. "You haven't been
sleeping. It's been three weeks of your staying here, and I don't think you've slept a full night
through even once. Is it the couch that's uncomfortable?"

"Couch s' good." It's not why I can't sleep.

Smoker nods, finishes his coffee and sets it on the table. "Well if you're up for it- I mean ... maybe
the doctor could give you something to take that would make it easier."

I doubt anything they could give me would work. He shrugs. Says nothing, because he can't exactly
tell Smoker he's just missing Sir's arms around him. Can't tell him that sometimes the baggy
hoodies are almost enough- allow him to feel comforted and safe for a few hours, just to close his
eye and slip into a shallow rest- before he wakes, longing for the warmth of a real person.

Weak. You're weak, you shouldn't need him.

The man has been kind enough to let him stay so long, so no, Zoro won't tell him any of that.
Instead he redirects, "Working?"

A head shake. "It's saturday, kid."

Right. "Up early," he gestures to Smoker- has to fight to keep his hand from veering too close
because he can feel the man's body heat even with the small distance between them. He digs his
fingers into his palms. Smoker doesn't want you like that.

"Yeah, woke up from a random phone call, couldn't fall back asleep after."

Zoro nods. Then jolts. You forgot to tell him about yesterday.

"Kid?"

"I ... Found a place."

"You mean you found somewhere to stay?"

"Yeah. Studio."

"Wow." His tone seems genuinely surprised. "You found a studio apartment, huh? When?"

"Yesterday." He had been walking around the city in a random neighborhood, looking for another
gym to spar at- instead he had found a broken down apartment building that was accepting tenants.
But the landlord inside had said he needed an id and paystubs- two things Zoro doesn't have- to let
him sign a lease. "Need you," he says.

Smoker's brows furrow.

"Not money." Zoro quickly explains, "Just id." The last thing he wants is for Smoker to think he's
taking advantage of him in any way.

"Okay, I'm working on getting you an id, it'll probably just be a few more weeks."

"Can't- too long," he says, shaking his head.

"Zoro," his voice is calm, placating, "you can stay here as long as it takes."

I can't stay. Can't keep using up your kindness.

"Can't."

Smoker sighs. "Listen to me. I know you have a hard time believing this, but me and Hin love
having you here." He rubs at his neck, then. Seems unsure. "I mean, we were talking about it the
other day and ..." His hand settles back to his lap, open-palmed. "If you want- we were thinking
maybe you could stay here with us. For good."

"I-" What?

He forces his shoulders down from where they're hiked up to his ears. They want me to stay with
them?

"Whatever you decide to do, I'll support your decision. If you need me to sign a lease for you, I can
do that. But, I just wanted to let you know ... that we'll always be here for you. And our home is
yours too, and will always be open to you if you decide to stay."
There's a pressure at the top of his nose and between his eyes and he realizes he's about to cry. He
breathes and blinks the tears away. "I ...Thank you." He says. He won't take him up on it, but he
knows any offer from Smoker is a genuine one- though can't for the life of him understand why the
man would want to keep him around.

"You don't have to thank me for anything. We can talk more about it later, anyway." He relaxes
into the couch, draping his right arm over the back. "Now come here. Get some sleep."

Wide-eye, Zoro looks at his open arms- at the invitation.

"Let's both try and get some rest, yeah?"

Words can't seem to find their way out, and all he can do is stare, confused and disbelieving.

Smoker huffs lightly. "Come on, kid. It's alright, I promise."

Slowly, Zoro scooches back. He chances a glance up at Smoker, who's eyes are already shut. How
does he know what I've been missing? Sure enough when Zoro presses himself into the nook of
Smoker's side and lets his head rest on the man's chest, the cord holding all the tension in his body
is cut.

He fists a hand lightly into Smoker's shirt. "Thank you," he says reverently, eye closing, and cheek
against his warm torso. "F'r everything."

"Hey buddy, could I get some more coffee over here?" The trucker calls out, loud in the empty
diner. Zoro nods a yes, already grabbing the coffee carafe.

The diner bell chimes softly.

He goes over to the man's table, refills his cup and mumbles an, "Anything else?"

"All good, thanks."

Zoro puts the coffee back and picks a menu up off the counter before walking to greet whoever
just walked in.

He sees navy blue scrubs fitted on a lean body as he approaches. "Sit wherever," he says as he
holds out the menu.

The person doesn't take it. Zoro steps forward to put it closer in reach.

"Zoro-ya?"

He looks up to see Law's face. Meets bright eyes before looking back down. "Hey, Law." Offers
the menu out again.

Finally, it's taken, and Law doesn't make Zoro repeat his earlier suggestion to pick a seat,
wordlessly making his way to one of the window booths. He slides in and fixes Zoro with a soft,
barely there smile.

"Working?" Zoro's had lots of hospital workers come in during the night shifts, though he hadn't
known they were from the same hospital Law works at.

"Yeah, just taking my break," at the surprised look Zoro gives him he laughs, "I know, I know, it's
not like me to take one, right? But I'm doing a double today and I've been trying to take better care
of myself."

"Good," Zoro says, tone genuine. "Drink?"

"Just some water. Could I order now too?" Zoro nods for him to go ahead and Law hands him the
menu without looking at it- he must've come here in the past. "Okay, a cheeseburger lettuce wrap-
medium well."

A what? He voices the thought.

"A, uh- it's basically a cheeseburger but with lettuce instead of a bread bun."

Lettuce as a bun? I'll just ask the cook if he can do that.

"Right- er ... called again?"

"It's called a cheeseburger lettuce wrap." Law repeats, ever patient.

Zoro nods, "One sec," and turns to walk to the kitchen. The cook- a thin, young man with a mullet
tucked under his hairnet- doesn't look up from where he's sitting, on his phone, near the freezer
door. Zoro approaches until he's stood in front of him and the thin man looks up boredly. He says
the order verbatim, in a questioning tone, and with no context.

The cook goes back to his phone. "Alright, five minutes. They got any allergies or something?"

He shrugs, a movement the man doesn't see with his neck craned down to the screen. "Don't like
bread." He says, because he remembers Law telling him so once, and assumes that's the reason.

"Great," the cook sighs, stretching as he stands- suddenly far too close. Zoro steps back hastily.
The man just raises a thick brow at him and walks around to go to the sink.

Zoro grabs a pitcher of cold water and a cup and goes back to the floor, setting both on Law's table.
"I-"

"All done over here." The trucker says from a few tables away. "Ring me out would ya?"

He gives Law an apologetic look and makes his way to print out the receipt and then over to the
other man. The trucker gives him an even bill, which Zoro takes and grabs the man's couple dollars
change from the register. "Keep it," he says, standing up and patting off his shirt.

Zoro thanks him as he leaves, then cleans up the table at a brisk pace.

Law is sipping idly at his water when Zoro approaches again. "You been?"

He sighs, sets down the cup. "I've been good, all considering. Just work and more work, really.
New management at the hospital has been giving us issues but I think things should smooth out
soon." A gesture invites Zoro to sit.
Zoro shakes his head, waving vaguely back to the kitchen. It shouldn't be too long before Law's
food is done.

"Well how're you doing?"

A nod, "Good."

Law hums. "Anything new?"

Zoro thinks on it for a minute. Anything new.

He officially got an apartment now- Smoker came and signed the lease for him yesterday morning
after they had woken up on the couch, and he'll be moving in today. Other than that, the Intercity
tournament starts next week, his first bout next saturday. Law's just asking to be polite, he doesn't
want to hear you try and stumble through all that.

"No."

"Well, this job is new for you, isn't it? At least, I haven't seen you working around here before."

He nods. His first day was only just last week- also the last time he saw Law.

And the last time you saw Sir. Fuck, has it already been a week?

"And how do you like it so far? I imagine it's a lot different from bartending since you're not the
one making things anymore."

"Different," he agrees.

Somehow Law doesn't seem to be bothered by his inability to hold up a conversation- Zoro
supposes he's used to it by now. A hum. "Well the uniform looks good on you at least."

"I- oh."

Law smiles cheekily, head resting in his palm.

"You too." He stutters out. He's seen Law in his scrubs before and they definitely fit him well.

"Thank you. You know-"

The cook's voice sounds from the kitchen before Law can finish. Zoro quickly grabs the plate of
food and returns. After setting it down he hovers for a second, unsure if Law wants to continue
what he was saying or be left to eat in peace.

"Alright, there's no other customers right now, come sit."

Grateful at the direction, he eases into the booth across the tall man. There's a soft song playing on
the speakers- something off the cook's playlist- that Zoro can't quite place.

Law takes a few bites of his sandwich and washes it down with water. "What I was going to say is,"
he starts again, and his head does that little dipping movement like he wants to catch Zoro's gaze.
Compliant, Zoro allows his to raise Law's nose- just short of meeting his eyes. It's the highest he'll
go without express permission or feeling like shit. "You know ... you quite possibly have the most
beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

He can't stop the soft gasp he releases at that. The statement is unexpected and Zoro lowers his
head, attempting to hide the sudden flush of his cheeks.

"Thank you." His voice is little more than a murmur. He realizes that Law referred to his eyes as
plural- it's not the first time he's done so, but it still makes Zoro feel strange every time. "The ...
color?" He asks, because when they first met Law had asked him the same. "Gray, you said."

His lips upturn into something soft. "I remember. Yes, they're a very nice light gray and ... I do like
the color a lot." A pause. He tilts his head a little. "More than that though, I think I like the way
they crinkle when you smile."

Well Zoro's definitely smiling now. His blush burns low. He wonders how Law can say such things
so effortlessly.

"I- I like your hands," he blurts. And then feels his cheeks heat some more at his own poorly
worded outburst. What I mean is, I like their slenderness compared to mine- which are rough and
scarred and large. I like the way each tattooed hand catches my attention doing even the most
ordinary of things.

I like how they've never hurt me.

Law looks at him like he hears all of that anyway. "Thanks, Zoro-ya." He finishes off the rest of
his burger. Zoro refills his water and the taller man downs that too.

"I regret that I do have to go soon."

Right, he's working too.

"When do you think I can see you again?"

"All week work ... not friday."

Law's face scrunches a second, confused. "No ... I'm not asking about your work schedule- though
I wouldn't mind coming here again if that's the only way to meet up." A thin hand is placed on the
table. "But I'd much prefer seeing you somewhere more comfortable. Like when you came over to
my place, or how we were at Luffy's last week."

He nods. Thinks. Then realizes he doesn't have any good ideas or a concrete time to tell him. He
thrusts his phone out at Law. "Number ... call, make plan."

"That works perfect." He types his number in and saves the contact. Pays the bill and leaves a nice
tip that Zoro insists on not keeping. Law insists back just as hard until Zoro relents. "It's okay,
Zoro-ya. I'll see you later?"

"Later," he nods.

.
Desert stretches out far as he can see.

The sky is clear, not a cloud in sight.

Sand blows past on a light breeze, though it doesn't touch him under the safety of this-

Where am I?

In the distance, a shadowed, child-like figure appears, approaching slowly. The figure raises their
hands as they get closer, and Zoro thinks he can make out a familiar face. He starts out of the
wooden structure above him. Remnants of a voice carry over the wind. The figure screams and
Zoro starts running.

And then the wooden roof is gone, the desert disappears, and he's falling.

He falls straight into a chair, that rocks back dangerously. He's on a chair. In an electric blue
room that is physically drumming with lighting. There's cold all around him. Briefly, he wishes
the coming storm to be warm and kind.

Robin sits across from him in a chair much similar to his own. Steel, and icy, and impersonal.

But she knows him.

Her head is in a small glass fishbowl. When she speaks the fish scatter. The water bubbles over the
sides. And he can hear her perfectly clearly. "He died in front of me."

Who? Zoro tries to speak, but his voice comes out a coughing mess. There's a blue smoke filling
the air. He hacks for what feels like hours. Through tear-blurred vision he sees Robin staring at
him blankly- unaffected under the water. A swelling travels up his chest and clogs the back of his
throat for a painful second before he coughs so brutally he spits out his heart. It plops onto the
floor of the back rooms- when did we get here- with a wet splat. Robin has moved. She's standing
at the corner of the room. He's seated at the edge of the mattress. A whirring has filled his ears
and the bed dips behind him.

A hand comes up to wrap around the front of his throat. "Has she told you yet? She was there when
I killed that sorry excuse of a man." Daz says, smiling meanly. He digs his blunt-tipped fingers into
the muscles of Zoro's neck and squeezes.

Robin observes silently.

"Why don't you show her how good you can be, pet?"

Zoro keeps his eye fixed on his exposed heart, still pulsing, on the floor.

A chunk of skin along his collarbone is sliced off.

He doesn't scream. Daz has always liked him quiet.

Roughly, he's shoved down. He lands hard against the floor. His eye is in line with his heart a foot
away, beating faint. Robin approaches slowly, ever silent.

"Croc's whore. But he's gone now, and so am I." A boot presses into the middle of his back. "You
want us back, pet? You wanna be good again?"
Quiet. Daz didn't say you could speak.

He shakes his head. The floor scratches at his cheek.

"It's okay to admit it. Don't be shy just cause Robin's here, pet. She's seen you spread your legs
before."

Robin leans down, but it's not him she reaches for. She picks his heart up off the floorboards.

You were there?

When she squeezes he feels it echo in his chest.

Her mouth doesn't move but he can hear her talking. Voice muffled and somewhere far away.

She looks up and everything bleeds slowly to black.

He opens his eye.

Awareness filters through to his senses like the sun on a lazy afternoon.

Robin is sitting at the kitchen table. She's talking on the phone with someone, voice a blur of low
tones.

His heart beats steadily back behind his ribcage.

Robin.

He feels uneasy.

Rarely does he trust the vicious dreams conjured by his subconscious, but this time feels different.

There's something familiar about her, I've known it.

'She was there', dream Daz had said. Still, he can't place her in his memories.

As though sensing she was the subject of his thoughts, she glances over at him. Piercing eyes look
straight through him and he shudders- 'She's seen you spread your legs before'- feeling cold despite
the many layers he's wearing.

She stands, excusing herself to whoever is on the other line and hanging up. Then she walks over to
the couch, moving the edge of Zoro's blanket so she can sit next to him. "How did you sleep,
Zoro?"

Under the blanket, he digs his hands into his upper arms, adjusts his legs so he's sitting up straight.

I dreamed about you. Daz was there and he knew you too and ... you had my heart in your hands
and you were looking at me like- like ...

You were there.

"Fine," he says.

She nods, and seems unsure what to say for a long second. "The dinner was good, thank you,"
being what she decides on.

After his shift he had done some road work then came home and made some food before crashing
on the couch. "Sure." There's a water bottle on the floor next to the couch and he leans over to grab
it. Picks it up to swish some and rinse the taste of sleep out of his mouth.

"I came here with Hina, though she left around thirty minutes ago to pick up some things from the
store." She sounds anxious. Or not quite that, but ... there's a rushed tone to her explanation that he
hasn't heard before.

"Okay."

"I feel-" she cuts herself off as soon as she starts. Takes a subtle, deep breath. "There's a few things
I'd like to tell you that I can't, in good conscience, keep from you any longer."

His eyebrows draw.

"A few days ago, the night at the restaurant with Crocodile, you said you didn't know who I am. Is
that still true?"

He looks to the floor, shrugging. "Familiar ... can't remember where."

A sigh. "In that case, I'd like to tell you what past we have between us. Is that okay?" He's been
curious about it anyway so he nods. It's accompanied by a strong sense of dread. She rests her hand
in the space between them. Hesitates a fraction of a second before twisting a knife in his guts in the
form of words. "Do you remember the first day you came to be with Crocodile?"

Painful flashes burn the back of his eyelid.

He hasn't thought about that day in ages.

He remembers his dad- whose face has been lost to the years. Remembers staying in the car and
watching him walk into that fucking building and never walk back out. Doesn't realize he's shaking
his head until Robin's soft voice cuts through, "Breathe, Zoro. It's okay, you're safe."

"Wh-" he chokes out. "Why?" Why are you asking me about this? How do you know about it?

A long moment of silence stretches between them and Zoro tries to force down rising memories.
Hates that one question had the capability of catching him so off guard.

"Because I was there."

The words echo those from his dream.

"I was working under Crocodile at the time." Then, as though the words pain her, "And I used to be
in a relationship with Daz Bones."

Daz. She was with Daz, and she was there the day Sir found me?

"Crocodile had taken us to a seaside town. Said that a man who owed him a large debt had cheated
and stolen from him before going into hiding there for a few months." The summer I spent with
Luffy. The few months I had before my life became not my own. "The man knew he couldn't avoid
Crocodile anymore once he'd been found, so he drove to meet us under instruction." She looks
away. "Daz killed him before he sat down."

And fucking hell he can't properly process any of this. This story that's lining up in his memories.
The events that he's always thought to be true despite never getting confirmation that Daz was the
reason his dad never came out of that place. He doesn't feel anything past a distant, cold prickling
through his body.

She continues.

And this is the part he knows. Then Sir found me.

I got tired of waiting, so I got out the car and ran inside to look for my father. Instead I ran straight
into the large frame of Crocodile. My father's body was lifeless, bleeding out on the floor behind
him with Daz standing over it. I couldn't scream. Sir picked me up easily, little as I was, and
brushed a hand through my hair. I can't remember anymore what he told me but it was enough to
make me relax. To make me trust him- a stranger- and accept the comfort he gave.

Fuck, it's been so long since I've thought about that day.

"The car ride back was long. You were confused and exhausted and you switched between resting
on my lap and sitting on his depending on who was driving. Do you remember any of that?"

He nods. The movement is slow. His head feels funny.

There had been a woman. She was nice. He'd seen her for a little bit and then never again. Not
after-

She's seen you spread your legs before.

He hadn't remembered the woman's face well but he thinking back, he can remember her eyes.
They're the same as Robin's and that's what's been familiar this whole time, isn't it? And
everything clicks.

"You?"

She was different then though. Dyed white hair that was long and glasses. "Different." He gestures
to her hair, then to where her glasses would be.

"I ... yes. I looked different at that time. Now I've let my natural color grow out and I wear
contacts," she pops one out of her eye and quickly back in.

Fuck. He doesn't know what to say.

If she really is the woman from the car, then she was also the one who wandered into the
apartment that one time way back. It had been a few months before I lost my eye and the woman
had been looking for Sir. Instead she found Daz fucking me into the couch.

The dream slams into him with a new, startling clarity.

And they were together back then? Fuck. Does she think I wanted it? Wanted it like Daz always
says I did.

The only thing you're good for.

A soft hand has to pry his nails out of his skin.

She's seen you.

He exhales past the feeling of his throat closing up. "Sorry. Daz, he ... you- 'm sorry." She shakes
her head, face kind. Her hand is still holding his and he wants to cringe away from the touch. He
doesn't. Knows he has no right to say no to her. "You remember that, do you?" She blows out a
breath that ruffles her bangs. "I- I should've gotten you out of there, Zoro. You were a child and I
just ..." Her voice is pained, suddenly, saturated with a heavy guilt. "I should have helped you."

Helped me.

Daz used to take him so often back then, he can't remember the rest of what happened. It's hard to
separate one instance from the next. He knows the woman- Robin, it was Robin fuck- walked in on
them and screamed. But the rest of the memory is fuzzy.

She wanted to help me?

At least she's not angry.

"I had been wanting to get out for a while. The business was nothing but trouble and danger and I
wanted to start clean. They were holding some things over me, though, so I couldn't. But after I-
when I discovered Daz's taste for young boys," she shudders, breathing all shaky. "I ran. I didn't
care about the dirt Crocodile had on me- just changed my look and left town." A long pause. Zoro
tugs at the base of his shirt, anticipation heavy in the air. "Last week at the restaurant," she starts,
sounding like she really doesn't want to talk about it. And she shouldn't have to, so he tells her as
much- in less words.

That gets a flash of an odd look. "No, I do have to, Zoro." Her expression settles. "I've told you
most of our history already, it wouldn't be right to leave out the last piece." She steels herself with a
breath. "A few years ago I came back. I kept myself out of that life and got a good job, a good man,
which all just meant I had more to lose. Crocodile knew that. He reached out to contact me when I
returned to let me know it too. He stayed in the background, kept a connection with my fiance-
who had no clue of my past- didn't contact me again until, well ..." Zoro figures where the rest is
going. "I knew trouble was coming once I heard about his hearing. He called me for a favor,
wanted me to bring him some things to get him out of the country safely. But I didn't want to get
involved with any of that again." Her smile is small and sad.

"And at that point I had already seen you."

He's not sure what he has anything to do with it, but the rest makes enough sense. Robin was the
one to call the cops. She let them know where Sir would be and made sure they caught him trying
to leave.

And now he's in jail.

Do you think he misses you, like you miss him? Or are you just that-

Pathetic. As though anyone could ever miss you for more than your mouth. Worthless whore.

Stop it. Focus- Robin. Why is she telling me this anyway? She doesn't owe me anything.

"Why?" He asks.

"Why what?"

"Telling. Why?"

She reaches for him, an aborted movement, and settles her hand back in her lap. "I wasn't there for
you back then, not the way I should've been, and it's been a deep regret of mine ever since.
Selfishly, I'm asking you to let me be here for you now."

The words don't make sense when he hears them, nor do they when he turns them over in his head.
"What?"

"I want to help you. Support you. The way I was too scared to in the past."

He doesn't have a response. Even if he did he's sure it wouldn't be the right one.

Hina opens the front door at the exact moment.

He excuses himself and gets off the couch, immediately taking Hina's bundle of bags as she walks
in. "Thanks, hun. You can just set them down over there, I'll go through them with you in a
minute." A nod, and he sets them down where she waved to. "Sorry, did I take a while?" She jumps
into conversation with Robin, who's still on the couch, as she puts herself a bowl of food. The
microwave whirs as she heats it. He feels Robin's eyes stray to him more than a few times. He's
still not quite done dealing with the fact that she caught him fucking her boyfriend back when he
was no older than eleven. You're disgusting.

No.

I never wanted that. Not from him.

"...yeah, Zoro?" Hina must have been talking to him.

"Sorry?"

"Why don't you start looking through what I bought, I'm just gonna eat a few bites and then I'll join
you. Let me know if there's anything you don't like."

It's a weird request but he doesn't question it. He sits cross-legged among the bags. Opens the first
one to find a small set of frying-pans. He didn't think the apartment needed any more but the ones
she bought are good quality anyway, so he goes to the next bag. In it is a dark sage green bedsheet
and pillowcase set. The material looks soft through the packaging. Another bag has collapsible
canvas storage baskets. There's a few cleaning supplies and silverware in the next two, and his
confusion increases with each bag because all of it is stuff Hina and Smoker either have already or
don't need.

A few uninterrupted minutes go by with Hina and Robin talking at the table. Then Hina settles next
to him. She's got a serious look on. It's not the tamest of expressions but it's one Zoro is used to
now. "Well ... do you like everything?"

He stares at her chin. What does that matter?

Seeing his confusion she clarifies, "It's for you."

"What? Why?"

"For your new place. Smoker got caught up at work so I'm gonna help you move in."

The bottom of his vision blurs. "Got ... for me?"

She nods, a small smile breaks onto her face. "I hope those are happy tears and that means you
liked all of it."

His head bobs up and down rapidly. Thank you, thank you, thank you. What did I do for you to be
 so nice to me?

A small chuckle leaves her lips- with it a puff of smoke, and Zoro hadn't even realized she had a
cigarette in the whole time. "In all honesty, I don't want you to leave. Smoker said it's in a bad area
and too small. And I think I like having you here too much." He freezes. He won't leave if she tells
him not to. Smoker hadn't seemed fond of the idea of him getting an apartment either but he hadn't
told him no. "You deserve to have your own space, though, and to sleep in a bed that's not a pull-
out. Speaking of, I bought a mattress, it's downstairs on top of the car."

"How much?"

She shakes her head, "Don't worry about it, Zoro. It's on me." He protests immediately and she
shuts it down, "Consider it my housewarming gift."

All of this and a mattress? It's too much, I can't-

"It's okay, Zoro. Think of it like a repayment for all you've done for us these past few weeks. For
bringing us a new kind of happiness."

Fuck that's definitely a wet tear that he swipes off his cheek. I brought them happiness. Me?

"If there's no complaints about anything, we can load this back up in the car and head out whenever
you're ready. We'll grab the clothes you packed up too. But you need to promise me one thing."
She rises to her feet. Looks at him with a warm gaze. "Promise me you'll keep in touch and come
over all the time- when you can."

He shakes her hand and she pulls him to stand with it, wraps him in a tight hug. A feeling of
protectiveness settles in his chest and he knows in an instant he would do anything for her. Her and
Smoker. They took him in without question- treated him like ... family. "I promise." And he's never
made an easier one than that.

Chapter End Notes

anyone else wish they had had a smoker and hina duo in their lives when going
through shit ?

other notes:
1. the dream sequence Hurt smm

2. at first when i was writing the part w/ law and zoro at the diner i got stuck cause i
was trying to force a conversation abt plot and stuff like that so after a few attempts i
said screw it and just wrote law flirting and making our guy flustered--- also YALL
law doesnt know zoros age yet and idek how THATS gonna go down since hes
technically 18ish now but still like 5/6 years younger than law

3. robin is great ! but she feels guilty and wants to gain zoros trust so she can watch out
for him, but she doesnt know how just yet, so a little bit of words no action w her rn.
personally i would not have approached the situation like this (she kinda brought it up
in a shitty way) but i feel like it was real bc of how guilty shed been feeling for yrs and
worked for her character? - also in canon her past is something she ran from in the
beginning and she really only looked out for herself in an effort to survive, so even
though things arent quite the same in this story, i wanted to keep that same vibe going
(idk if that explanation made sense)- and ikkk she got interrupted by hina coming in
but dw yall Will get to see more of robin trying to help out in the future

4. as always i barely looked over this so lmk any mistakes- might go back and edit later
& idk when next update will be

sorry for the suuuper long end note- ik i rambled and it probably makes 0 sense lol,
please lmk all ur thoughts on the chapter, i love reading them !
 it's better this way, i promise (dirty and alone)
Chapter Summary

an empty apartment, a lot of fighting

Chapter Notes

i promise this was not just an excuse to write abt boxing

actually kind of a heavy chapter in terms of negative thoughts soooo just be aware ig

enjoy <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Blood feels warm running down his heated skin. Sweat from his forehead slides into the cut and it
stings but he doesn't take his eye off his opponent. Zoro evades another spinning elbow like the
one that had originally slashed the line open at his hairline.

"You're out of your depth, boy," the man pants. The words barely process. Zoro feints a cross
slightly slower than normal that gets blocked and then fires a jab full-speed where the man is open.
He ducks out of the resulting staggered punches the man attempts to throw and bounces out of
distance.

He's already taken the retired professional down a few times so when he approaches again and
level changes, the man subtly braces for a takedown attempt. Zoro snaps an overhand left instead
that wobbles him. "Fuckin-" More blows are exchanged. The man has incredible defense and
doesn't drop his hands despite the hard body shots Zoro's been throwing. Zoro's hands are up too
and he's very wary of the man's powerful legs and the way he threw them around back in round
one. Another minute continues like that and he knows the bout is a close one but he doesn't know
how to fully turn it in his favor. The man is experienced, an ex-pro muay thai fighter that retired
out of the sport early but still does these bouts to keep his skill up. He's weak on the floor. If I just
get him down again, I can take it. Those fucking legs though- won't let me get close anymore. On
cue, one slams against his side forcing the breath out of his lungs. A fiery pain centers at the
bottom of his ribcage. He doesn't lose focus, quickly parrying a thrown right and the man slips
away from his answering counter.

The kick is thrown again and Zoro catches it with his arm, traps it between his body and the inside
of his elbow. The man tries to spin out and Zoro shoves the leg away, stepping in and snapping a
left hook to his jaw all in a fraction of a second. The man stumbles under the hit and Zoro uses the
movement as an opening to pin him to the floor.

Then he's being pulled off by thick arms.

It takes him longer than it should- adrenaline a buzzing cotton in his ears- to realize they were
separated by the ref because of the bell.

The man hops up off the floor easily, giving Zoro a look like 'that was nothing' and going to his
side of the cage.

That was their fifth and final round and since they went the distance it'll go to decision. Fucking
hate when it goes to decision. There's nothing to be argued about a KO or submission. A decision
though ... it's your own fault. You need to train harder. Need to get the finish next time. It means
nothing that this guy used to be professional- you should've finished him.

The cut man approaches, swiping off the mess of blood down his face and neck and placing a few
butterfly bandages over the gash on the side of his forehead. It burns a dull pain. Words are being
said in a loud voice and Zoro recognizes it as the announcer, Den, making his way to the center of
the cage. Zoro gurgles some water and stands, meeting him there. The other fighter joins them after
a second. An unsatisfied feeling ripples under his skin and it festers further when his name is not
the one called, knotting into a tight ball deep in his chest. It's a split-decision that awards him the
loss. The man gloats some words or other to him before parading around the cage. He accepts the
defeat, bowing to the man and his team. It was close, I'll have to learn from this. Do better. After a
quick mandatory checkover in the back, he's deemed okay to go and since they were the last bout
of the evening, just manages to change and get out before the crowd starts to flood the exits. It's
another cold night, but bearable at least, in the pleasant absence of whipping wind.

His gym bag feels heavy on his shoulders. Kuina's bandana feels even heavier and he holds it out in
his palms. Rests against the side of the Cutty Flam and dips his head to the midnight blue fabric.
I'm sorry.

I miss you.

He ties the bandana around his arm and starts walking home.

His legs are sore but they carry him well enough and it's thirty minutes in before he even realizes
he's not walking to his apartment- he's walking to Smoker's. Fuck. I didn't mean to come here. But
it's getting harder to breathe with each step and a strong wind has started to build up. When he
swipes a hand through his sweaty hair it comes back red which means his head cut has opened up
again. It doesn't matter. You can't just walk in unannounced. He finds the nearest subway station
instead.

His keys clatter loudly when he tosses them on the counter next to the door.

The creaking of pipes breaks the otherwise quiet of the apartment. He breathes in the stillness. Sets
his bag down and makes straight for the shower.

By the time he's done he's shivering. The hot water isn't working again. It only really works on
occasion, if the past few days here have taught him anything, but the pressure is pretty nice and it
cleans the sweat and blood off him good as any other. He butterflies the cut on his forehead back
shut and dresses into something soft. His hands and ribs are aching.

There isn't really a middle of the apartment space but he has his zabuton placed where he's
approximated it to be. Almost reconsiders meditating altogether with the fucking effort it takes just
to sit down. He eases into the position anyway. After collecting his thoughts and his breathing, he
flips through the fight in his head. Pictures what he can remember from each round. He examines in
his head what he did well and where he went wrong.

He should've checked more of the man's leg kicks- sure his will be battered and bruised come
morning. And that elbow that caught him was telegraphed slightly, he just hadn't noticed it at the
time. He goes over that particular move a few times along with the kick to his side, visualizing
himself seeing the cue and evading both, returning in various ways.

When he's done everything feels a little too weighed down and worn-out. He really should've told
Franky to keep him off the cards tonight cause right now he doesn't know how the hell he's
supposed to get up in the morning for his first tournament bout. Sleep, just need to sleep. If I can
catch a good few hours now, I should be fine come morning.

He stands up slowly. His right leg all up and down the brutal scar has been throbbing something
fierce all week and he's not sure why. It's been made worse now with the leg kicks he ate earlier.
Shuffling over to the kitchenette, it only takes him a few minutes to make some hojicha tea. The
humming of the pipes blankets his ears. When the tea's done he leans back against the counter and
sips at it. Its warmth spreads through his belly in a calming sensation.

But he can't ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. He doubts it's the loss earlier making him feel
this way- he's dealt with losing enough times to know what that feels like and this is different. This
is ... familiar too ... he just thought he was done with it. Thought he was done feeling like his heart
is missing and his lungs have expanded to take up the space. He looks over the small studio. I miss
them all.

Smoker and Hina. Luffy and his friends. Si-

So good, all of them. Kind and good-hearted and clean, and you're you. You don't deserve them.
And they deserve better than to be forced to deal with you again.

He knows it's true, though that doesn't lessen how shitty it feels.

Fuck, I shouldn't do this right now, I need to be up early tomorrow. He finishes the cup and rinses
it in the sink. Walks over to the mattress that he has set in the corner on the floor. The sheets are on
the colder side. They feel soothing against his inflamed skin and he drapes them over himself,
thoughts loud. The tea helped relax him, though, and he's tired as hell so he closes his eye and
sleeps under the radiator's steady clicking.

Three boxing rings are set up in the stadium- which is less of a stadium and more of a cramped
sports complex. The smell of alcohol and cheesy food permeates the air.

Energy in the room is sky-high and shouting is a constant. So is the cheering and booing from an
increasingly rowdy crowd. People are piled into the bleachers, with some having paid extra for
their pass to get ringside seats on the ground.

Around 120 fighters from the area have signed up for the tournament that'll sweep through the
week, culminating in the final bout next saturday. The winner will walk away with the title of
Intercity Golden Gloves champion and Zoro's already won once a few years ago but he's still
hungry for it like his next meal.

Though it really doesn't help that he feels like he's been ran through by a bus. This morning he
woke up feeling even crappier than before. His legs are predictably swollen and his side has
bruised something ugly- purple and mottled red and that kick might've done a damage deeper than
meets the eye because it shouldn't hurt this much just to fucking breathe. He doesn't let the pain
show as he makes his way to one of the lockerrooms. A bout between some older flyweights has
just finished in the ring on the far left which means there's only two left before he's up. He weaves
his way through chairs, ducking out of the way of a man who stands up abruptly, beer sloshing out
his cup, screaming as the fighter in the middle ring gets a knockdown.

A small group of coaches and fighters are clustered near the back, blocking the door to the
changing room. A swell of chatter rises. Zoro brushes past them with his head down until he
reaches the door.

It closes behind him with a whoosh. The outside noise gets shut out and he welcomes the sudden,
relatively muffled, quiet.

There's only a few people in the room, and he makes sure not to disturb any as he sets his bag down
in the corner. One fighter is sitting on the bench, head bobbing up and down with headphones over
his ears. He's surrounded by his coach and some others with the same gym logo on their shirts all
talking amongst each other in low tones. A sudden crescendo of noise crashes into the room and
Zoro turns to see a ref peeking his head in. He signals to the group- the man must be up next- who
quickly follow him out. The space is granted to himself.

He properly warmed up about an hour ago outside the venue, and has been keeping himself lightly
active since, so he doesn't hop into his pre-fight routine right away. Instead he wraps Kuina's
bandana around his head and sits on the floor, his back to the wall. The meditative state finds him
with ease.

He only gives himself a couple minutes but he's well-grounded by the time he gets back to his feet.
Then he puts his gloves on and starts a light warmup- the same way she taught him to all those
years ago. Pulling the rope out of his bag, he skips a few minutes, then does some footwork drills
and shadowboxes. Lunges, bridges, and eagles are next and get finished off with some plank
pikes.

The ref pops his head in again as he's pacing the room. "Your turn, let's go."

Zoro nods, shucks off his hoodie and sweatpants and tucks them into his bag. He leaves his shoes
on and grabs his mouthguard and mandatory headgear on his way to follow the man out.

His limbs feel nice and loose as he makes his way back through the crowd and towards the
cutman. Vaseline is spread on his face, and his headgear is secured before being allowed to walk
up the steps. The man he's fighting is already there, jumping around in his corner. He looks taller
and slightly larger. They're both wearing tanktops and shorts- standard for these types of amateur
competitions- and he's really not used to it. At Franky's there's a no shirts allowed rule, so he
always fights bare-chested and in shorts. It's nice, now, to face his opponent and not have to deal
with the usual, initial wary glances to his body.

Being in the ring again has all his stress melting away and he's filled with a sense of calm and
gratitude as he stares the man down.

This tournament is mine. I won't lose.

The man's corner starts cheering for him as the referee calls for the start.

"Box."

And they advance on each other.

The next few days are a beautiful blur of work, the gym, and fighting. He doesn't think he's ever
felt better. Well-

Sure, work is a drag sometimes- he still needs the money- and his whole body hurts whenever he
does really anything, but he's working from his own choice and only getting hurt from fair fights-
no longer from kneeling submissively at the feet of men and letting them have their way with his
body- so it's good.

It's freedom, he thinks. No one to tell him what to do or force anything on him. He's free and on his
own.

He just never thought it would feel so ... shitty. Alone. If Kuina was still here-

It's better she's not. What would she say if she saw me like this?

His emotions try to run rampant but he keeps them in check, constantly meditating in his empty
fucking apartment, and training until he can't move just to have to fight a few hours later. But it's
good. Great, even. With his body so tired he can't think about his friends or Smoker. Can't think
about Sir or his warmth or miss his hands that held- hurt you, hurt you, hurt you- him for years.

It's good.

He feels unhinged.

So when a man comes up to him thirty minutes before his second to last bout of the tournament-
he's won all the others and if he wins this one, the next will be for the title- and presses against his
ass before even introducing himself, Zoro doesn't know quite how to react properly. Elbowing him
in the stomach, though, probably isn't it.

He was in the lockerroom. Had just finished skipping his rope when the man came in. Zoro was in
his zone, and didn't glance twice at him past knowing someone had walked in.

That is until he was shadowboxing and the man stepped right in front of him. Not one to easily lose
focus, Zoro just assumed he was in the man's way, slipped around him and kept on.

And then the man grabbed him from behind, holding his left arm hostage as he pressed their
bodies together and ground against his ass. Zoro's reaction was instant, elbow already deep in the
man's ribs before he could think better of it.

They're standing a few feet apart now.

Zoro is wary of the man's every move, his stance, his heavy breathing as he glares Zoro down, and
the way his fists clench at his sides.

An apology is on the tip of Zoro's tongue.

He swallows it down.

He shouldn't have grabbed me like that. He can't just ...

Did you forget already? You can't say no. If he wants to use you for what you're good for, who are
you to deny him?

No, no, no. He can't put his hands on me like that, not if I don't want him to.

After all this time you still think your body is your own? What's one more man to all the men
that've taken you?

Stop it. Shut up.

The man's mouth is moving, smirk on his lips, and Zoro hastens to tune in.

"... trying to injure your opponent before the bout?" Zoro hasn't heard that drawl in years. That
voice. And I know those lips, don't I? He used to come by the bar a few years back. "I could call
the referee in here right now and have you disqualified."

Disqualified. Shit shitshitshitshit- "N-no."

His smirk widens. "Do I get a proper apology, then? An elbow to the stomach is not a fun thing."

Don't. Don't apologize- he's the one that-

Yeah, but what if he does tell the ref? They won't believe me if I say he held me against him first.
They might- fuck. They might look at me and see the slut that I am, might say I had it coming.

Stupid. You should've just let him grab you.

"Sorry."

A hum. "Now, was that so hard, baby boy?" The pet name drops from his lips like a natural thing.

Zoro's neck prickles. For the first time since the man walked in, Zoro looks up to take in his whole
face. Fuck. I was right.

Fuck.

"Anyway I thought you love getting handled all rough like that?" His eyes seem to remember Zoro
all too well. "Or at least you never stopped me before."

No, no I never stopped him before. He was a customer. Saying no to a customer wasn't allowed.

He wants to ask the man what he's doing here, but the outfit says enough. He's a fighter. Called
himself my opponent. Am I fighting him today?

"Right, I forgot you're not a big talker. Well, I just really came in to say 'good luck', you know,
good sport that I am," he closes the distance between them and Zoro doesn't move. A hand
squeezes his right hip. "Let's give them a show tonight, huh? I know you're great at that." His smile
is salacious and he slaps at Zoro's ass before walking out.
The door shuts and Zoro can't move.

Breathe, dumbass. You're gonna be fighting him in fifteen.

He inhales through his nose, eye closing with the breath. On the exhale he opens it again.

You're fine. You're gonna fight him and it's gonna be just fine.

I knew I shouldn't've stayed in this fucking city. Was a whore for too long, fucked too many
people- there was bound to be someone that recognized me eventually.

So what? Running away would've done nothing for you, not after there became nothing to run
from. Do you really think anyone could look at you and not know? They'd be blind not to see you
for what you are. And what- just because this man knows that you're a slut more intimately means
you should be intimidated by him? Fuck that.

Fuck. It's bullshit, all of this.

The thought doesn't lessen the urge to scratch his skin off where the man touched him though .

He starts shadowboxing again.

You'll be fine. He's just another opponent.

Footwork follows. His shorts feel like they're burned through where the hand slapped him.

Just put your all out there, like you always do. So what he's fucked you before? So what he felt you
up? Don't let him touch you in the ring. In there, is where you have control.

He can't touch you in the ring.

He explodes through some counter-movement jumps. You want more than this, don't you?

Sweat beads at his forehead.

Fuck it all.

Let him know that I'm a whore. Let all my future opponents know, I don't give a shit. If I want to be
the best, I can't give a shit, not about that. It's who I am and I can't change it, but I can give them
something else to see me as too.

He finishes his routine, breathing controlled. The ref comes in.

You're a fighter. Let them see you as one.

His back pocket vibrates. He sets the basket on the floor and takes out his phone.
"Hello."

"Hey, hun."

He exhales. "Miss Hina."

"You busy right now? How is everything?"

"No. Good."

"What are you up to?"

He looks around the shelved aisles and shrugs. She can't see you, dumbass. "Store."

"Stocking up on some groceries, that's good. Are you holding up okay?"

"Yeah. You good?"

"I am." There's a softness in her voice. He wonders why she's calling. "I'll be getting off of work
soon and then heading home. You're working later tonight, right?"

He nods. "11."

"Would you want to come over, before your shift?"

Oh.

I haven't seen them since I left last week. Haven't even called, I just didn't want to bother them. She
wants me to come over?

"Dinner, I'm-" He clears his throat. Looks down at the ingredients he has piled in his basket that he
was planning to make tonight. "Dinner. I can?"

He swears in his head at the resulting silence.

"I-"

"Sorry, what do you want to do?"

Talk normally. More than two word sentences so she can understand you. "I'm, dinner ... making
soon. Can bring with?"

"Oh, I see." There's some shuffling on her end of the line. "Well, I was just going to order food for
us, that way you can take it easy."

He shakes his head. I can't just visit them empty handed. I'm lucky enough she still somehow wants
to see me. "Easy to make."

A sigh, "If you're sure, I mean I won't say no to your cooking. You want me to have Smoker pick
you up on his way home?"

That would be great, that way I don't have to take the food on the subway. "Please." He hesitates a
second. "Does he ... I'm- it's okay?"

"Of course you're okay, hun. We both want you to come over, alright? Don't worry about that."

"Sorry."
"I'll tell him around five, maybe he could stop inside, too? I know he hasn't been by since he
signed the lease for you."

"Sure. Thank you."

He knows her intonations well enough to hear the small smile in her voice. "I'll see you soon, hun.
Text me if anything changes." They hang up and Zoro finishes his shopping. The area he lives in
now doesn't have a good grocery store, so he's mostly been going back to his old asian mart to buy
things. He takes the bus back to his new neighborhood. It's a short walk from the bus stop to his
apartment and he carries the bags up the four flights of stairs. Inside, he starts on the dinner. He's
just making sukiyaki fried rice, something to give him energy and he's made it for Smoker and
Hina before so he knows they like it. It's finished with pretty quickly, leaving him with an hour
before five. His body is sore from the past week of fighting and work so he sits on the mattress to
relax. But- Damn leg won't stop jittering.

He stands back up.

With the food covered on the hot plate, he starts a calisthenics circuit in the small floor space
between his mattress and the kitchenette. The restless feeling subsides after a few minutes of
movement.

He's sweating lightly when a knock comes at the door. He hops up, using his hoodie to wipe at his
forehead.

"Smoker," he opens the door up wide, gesturing the man in.

"Zoro, how you doing, kid?" He walks in, eyes sweeping over the tiny room.

Zoro follows behind him. "Fine, thank you."

There's not much space to walk around so Smoker kind of hovers near the mattress against the wall
as he inspects the apartment. Zoro walks around him, shifting slightly to cover the window.
Smoker furrows his brows, having already seen the pack on the sill. He looks indecisive a second,
but doesn't comment on it. "You ready to go?"

He nods, points to his sweaty shirt.

"Yeah, go ahead and change. You just got back from the gym?"

"No." He picks out some clean clothes from one of the canvas baskets at the other corner of the
room. "Work clothes too?"

Smoker shrugs, "Yeah, you can bring them. You're welcome to stay late as you want, if you wanna
just go to work from our place that's fine."

He nods. I'll bring them just in case. Once changed into a fresh outfit, he packs his uniform into his
gym bag and throws it on his shoulders, bandana tied around his arm. "Ready."

"Alright," Smoker grabs the pot of food off the hot plate, checking that it's unplugged before
walking to the door. "Make sure you lock up." He does and they both walk downstairs. Smoker
comments about the inconvenience of the elevator, but it only just broke a few days ago and Zoro
doesn't mind the cardio so he stays silent. "So how's the tournament been going?" Smoker starts up
the car as Zoro gets in.

"Good."
A chuckle. "Yeah? Come on give me a few more details." He pauses, tone calm, and adds, "Take
your time."

Okay, details. He takes a deep breath, already apologizing mentally that Smoker has to hear him
struggle through talking. You're fine, he asked you to which means you're fine. "Good, uh ... won so
far. All."

He taps his fingers against his thigh, looks out the window.

"Man yesterday. Fighter and ... an- customer, years." He grips at his pant leg, eye unfocused as
buildings blur past. "Knew me. Grabbed my..." shut up, he'll just say you deserved it, a shake of
the head, "Beat him, too."

There's a silence and he glances over to see Smoker's raised eyebrows. "What happened
yesterday?"

"I- nothing."

"Zoro."

He shakes his head more. "Sorry, 's fine, promise. Didn't ... in the ring. I beat him." You're talking
too much.

"Right." He feels Smoker give him a look. "Well when's your next fight?"

"Tomorrow."

He nods, "For the title right?" Zoro hums in response. Smoker cracks open the window, pulling a
cigar from the case in his jacket pocket. "Would it be okay if we came to see you?" Zoro is silent
as he lights it. He doesn't need to ask if it's okay, he can do whatever he wants. "Kid?"

"Y-yeah. 'Course."

"Great, I know you'll do just fine." He blows some smoke out the window. Zoro wraps arms
around himself to keep away the cold air coming in. "Hina will get worried, I think, come
tomorrow. But she's never seen you fight and she said she wants you to at least have someone in
your corner."

That's ... so nice.

Fuck, I don't deserve them.

"Thank you."

"Maybe you could invite some of your friends too? I'm sure they'd like seeing you, especially if it's
for the championship."

Zoro shrugs, eye at his feet. Most of them heard that I train by now, but they'll be scared by the
way I fight, I know it. I would never do anything to hurt them, but if they see what I could do ... I
don't want them to be scared of me.

I'm still respectful when I fight, sure, it's just-

You're a different person in the ring. You have to be.

And he doesn't know how they would react to that.

Smoker must sense a depth behind his hesitation. "Just think about it. You don't have to do
anything you're not comfortable with."

"Thank you," he nods.

"Anyway," he starts, more lighthearted. "Can't say I'm not excited to be eating some home-cooked
food again. What'd you make today?"

He wins.

Smoker and Hina take him out that night to celebrate, but to him there's nothing to celebrate yet.
Regionals are next and after that nationals. He visits Franky the following morning and has the
man sign him up for the regional tournament. Says not a word to anyone else. Franky agrees to do
it free of charge and in two weeks Zoro is on a long bus ride to the venue.

He books a motel in the area and pays cash for the week. Losing and coming home early aren't an
option if he has any control over it so he tells Jessica he'll be back to work in seven. Hina and
Blondie call him a few times to check-in, ask if he's free to stop by, but he just tells them he's busy-
not that he's almost a state away, well-bruised from fighting each night.

He wins again.

The National Golden Gloves tournament will be in another two weeks and it's all he can think
about on the bus back.

The gym, training, and work fill his days once more and he tries his best to sleep when he can.

It's been almost a month since he's last seen anyone he knows- other than Jinbe and the nice cashier
lady at the grocery store and-

Tomorrow morning he'll be on a train, headed for nationals.

It's in a big city out west, more than ten hours away by train. But flying would be too expensive
and he still doesn't have id, so it's his only option. The train should be fine anyway, as long as
there's room to move around- maybe get in a few small workouts to keep himself from going crazy
during the ride.

If he's going to be slightly functional tomorrow though, he needs to fucking sleep now.

And he can't.

The small studio apartment is quiet. No humming of the pipes, no creaking of the floors, just

silence.
Except-

He flips over onto his back. Stares up at the stains and cracks in in the drywall ceiling. Sir's voice
laughs, a rumble just barely there in his head. A phantom hand brushes the side of his neck.

He feels twitchy.

Sitting up with a sigh, he lets his eye travel over the still unfurnished space of his no longer new
place. I really should get a couch in here or something when I get back.

Not that there's much room for anything other than his mattress.

He puts his head in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs and drags his fingers down his face.
Fuck, I need to sleep. But there's a warmth at his back, a familiar presence. Like maybe if he lies
back down he'll be embraced, held close. It's a lie. And anyway, the imagined blanket of a
presence brings him no comfort, not like Sir did. You're alone in your apartment, stop thinking
about him. Lay back down and close your eye.

He stands up.

There's nowhere in the apartment he can go to get far enough away from those large arms ready to
smother him whenever he puts his head down. He's in jail, stop being crazy.

A glance at the window. Five minutes should be fine, and then I'll come back inside and sleep.
Five minutes. The chill should get rid of Sir's- of this ... whatever this fucking feeling is.

He throws on a hoodie. Then, grabbing the lighter and pack off the windowsill, he pops the
window open. Squeezes through it and climbs onto the fire escape.

The night is cold.

It easily drives away burning hands on his hips. He lets the crisp air clear his head. Fill up his
lungs. He waits a minute before lighting a cigarette and letting the smoke do the same.

Cars and people pass by slowly on the street below. Snow drifts down. Some lands on the metal of
the fire escape, melting as soon as it lands. He breathes out.

Another week away, starting tomorrow. Ashes float down to his lap, mimicking the movement of
snow through the streetlights. He takes a few more puffs and puts the cigarette out. Slips the other
half back in its pack. Breathes out again, trying to loosen the tension in his muscles. Should go in
and sleep. Can't.

He considers for a moment calling Smoker to see if the man is still awake. Ask if he'd be willing to
drape a large hand over his back, just long enough for Zoro to drift off. Why can’t you just fucking
sleep on your own? He's shivering as he shakes his head. I don’t know, I don’t-

I can't go, anyway. Shouldn't dirty him more than I already have. Nails find skin and he gouges
crescents into his wrists.

He stops, frozen, when he feels the beading of red liquid at the pads of his fingers.

The last time he went this long with unbruised wrists, he was nine.

They were always so thoroughly bruised with Sir.

 Both from his hands and from those of customers- especially ones that used things on him. Even
now, though not bruised, they're not unmarred. Tilting his forearm, the thick wisps of scars that he
knows too well there, catch the light of the moon from where tight metal cuffs used to dig into his
skin until it bled- countless times as he fucked countless men through the years.

Fucking- Is there anyone dirtier than you ?

He retreats inside and slams the window shut, as though if done fast enough, his thoughts would
stay out in the wind.

You're filthy.

Fuck. And he knows from experience that even the hottest shower is incapable of washing out the
unclean feeling under his skin.

Maybe it's good I'll be gone a few more days. States away, I won't be bothering anyone.

Won't have to worry about his friends staining themselves when they touch him.

I'm no good to anyone like this. He curls up on the mattress.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I won't have to think about this shit- can just focus on my bouts. I'll win
them all and come back champ and then maybe, maybe, this'll all be tamer and I won't feel like
tearing myself apart so much.

The memory of Sir's hand settles back over the nape of his neck. Zoro doesn't fight the way his eye
closes, automatically, as the feeling becomes more tangible. Even though the hand isn't really there
and the apartment remains empty. He's too tired to deal with how sleeping under the pretense
makes him all the more disgusted with himself.

Once his whore, always his whore, huh?

You're no good.

But, tomorrow-

Tomorrow I'll be fine. I'll be better. I have to.

Chapter End Notes

AHHHHH

so many parts of this chapter were painful, i hope i captured everything well and that it
came across kind of the depth of zoros feelings/situation rn and instability (a lot of this
chapter made sense in my head but i never know if it translates well)

ALSO, i enjoy writing fights bc i fucking miss them (idk if the writing comes out any
good tho lol) BUT lmk if yall dont like reading em/find the fight scenes boring or
whatever cause i can skip any upcoming ones the way i did at the end of this chapter
and just use recaps, anyway lmk OR if u didnt like the quick timeskip thing lmk that
too !

not gonna leave a super long end note like last time but again, thank u for reading and
lmk ur opinion on everything ^
anything else u liked/didnt/just feel like ranting abt, please feel free to use the
comment section, yk i always enjoy reading what yall have to say !

hope u liked the chapter, i once again barely looked over it so lmk if i made any
mistakes, i just really wanted to share this out w yall <3
 i have this ambition
Chapter Summary

tournament time ! and other ... happenings

Chapter Notes

apologizing in advance for this absolute rollercoaster- (MOST of it is good tho i

promise)
anyway enjoy <333

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Shades of green pass by in an extended blur. The train chugs along as it has been for hours, passing
by forests and towns, highways and dirt roads. Zoro is beyond fucking bored.

Should've brought something to do. He's already been to the more spacious, empty car towards the
back and worked out twice now. There's still two hours left. Fuck me. He's drawing now. Had
managed to acquire some used tickets from the ticket guy- conductor?- and a pen, and is doodling
aimlessly on the empty space. His left cheek rests in his palm and he sketches some trees as he
looks out the large window to his right.

He feels good today. More relaxed than usual. Still restless, if his leg bouncing steadily under the
fold-down tray means anything, but it's easily overshadowed by the calm that has settled in his
chest.

Nationals. It feels like a dream that he's even here right now, steadily approaching the city where
he'll fight for a week straight against boxers from around the country. My first time fighting at such
a high level. I'll finally be able to put myself to the test here- see how I measure up against more
advanced competition. A grin spreads on his face at the thought. More than ready, he can taste his
own excitement on his tongue. Fuck, this'll be fun.

Another hour passes. He gets up a few times to stretch his legs, and switches between drawing
some more and gazing out the window. The ticket he's using now is all out of space and as he goes
to fold it up and draw on another one, he realizes he's sketched multiple straw hats. His eye
crinkles at the drawing while a pang of something heavier echoes in his chest. Should I have told
him? Should I have told any of them?

He shrugs to himself, smile dropping. It's too far away, anyway. And you didn't want them to see
how you get in the ring.

Probably a good call. He folds up the ticket and slips it into his pocket. Looking outside once
more, he sees the large city in the distance and refocuses. Now's not the time to worry about any of
that anyway. His face smooths out. The serene feeling returns. The next step in achieving all I've
ever wanted is right up ahead. And he can hardly wait.

When the train arrives, a large group of people exit with him. He barely knows how to navigate his
own city, let alone this one, but he manages to find the subway and take it in to the stop he thinks
he's supposed to. He checks in at his motel, pays for the night. It's one of the shadier ones but it's
relatively close to the venue and the cheapest he could find. Thankfully, the train hadn't gotten
delayed during the ride, so he's pretty on schedule with everything. His first bout will be in a few
hours now and all that's left is to get to the venue, warm up, and win.

The weather is different in this city, less cold and wintery, so he puts the address in his phone and
decides to walk. The air is humid. He walks over a bridge though, spanning a river, and there's a
nice breeze right in the middle. He pauses. Looks out at the glistening blue, just starting to reflect
the multicolored sky. The sun'll be setting soon. A large ferry passes out from under the bridge.
There's people on it, taking pictures of the surrounding buildings. Curious, he watches the boat
move through the water slowly. Then a child on deck waves up to him. Zoro glances around, but
no, he's the only one on the bridge. They wave more insistent, and Zoro quickly waves back. Feels
ever present as another breeze hits him and the child beams. After a few moments he continues on.
And then he's coming up on one of the largest casinos he's ever seen. It rivals even the Rainbase,
and the last time he was in a casino was w-

Stop it. Not today.

From his bag, he pulls out the ticket Franky had given him, enters through the side of the building

"Can I help you?" A woman asks, sitting behind a large desk in the even larger entrance.

He walks up and sticks his ticket out.

"Alright, for the tournament you'll have to go through security, which is just behind me, and then
it's on your right. Are you fighting?" A nod. "Once you get in there, just have someone show you
the changing room, okay?" Another nod. "Good luck."

"Thank you."

A security guard checks his bag and lets him through. "To the right," the guard says after seeing
Zoro walk in the wrong direction.

"Sorry." He follows the pointing arm to the correct door. Then he walks through and freezes.

The arena is huge.

Rows upon rows of empty seats surrounding a stage in the middle with the fanciest boxing ring he's
ever seen. "Fuck," he whispers, moving forward in an awe-like trance. He approaches the steps
leading up to the ring. Spins around and takes in the sheer size of the stadium around him. There's
a whole other level of seating a floor up that he doubts will be filled tonight- maybe for the final
match- but still, just imagining it packed with people is enough to have his breath catching. He
circles the bottom of the stage, feeling even more settled than before. By the end of this week I'll
have made this ring mine.

"Nice place, no?"

Doors don't open for another hour, so as he finishes walking around, he's a little surprised to see a
man in a suit sitting alone in the first row. He's old to be a fighter, and he's not dressed like a
coach. Heart sunglasses sit easy over a large black afro, somehow matching with the man's old-
fashioned three-piece.

Zoro nods.

"I like sitting in here before we open. It's fascinating, I think, to experience the silence before and
after large events like these compared to the loud noise during." He pauses. "Could swallow a
person whole- the silence." The man's tone speaks of experience. Zoro hums. He knows what the
man is talking about, has felt the switch of energy that comes after the last bout of the night when
the crowd is all filing out and the lights turn back on. "Now, does your other eye not open or have
you just been winking at me this whole time?"

Zoro looks to the ring, cheeks tinted pink. "Don't work. Scarred shut," he mumbles in answer.

"They let you fight with just the one?"

Zoro shrugs.

From the corner of his vision, the man stands up. His shoes clack loud, echoing in the empty
stadium. "You're that young one from the east, aren't you?"

"Roronoa Zoro, Mister."

The man smiles wide, showing teeth. "O-ho! I thought so. And so polite." Up close, Zoro catches a
glimpse of a long scar on the man's forehead before he looks down. "You haven't brought anyone
with you?"

He shrugs again.

"Well, I didn't intend to interrupt your getting acquainted with the venue," something about the
proper way the man talks has Zoro struggling to understand him, "but I can help show you around
if you would like."

That part, at least, he gets. The offer seems genuine enough and Zoro needs to find the locker room
anyway to start warming up. He accepts with a nod. "Thank you."

The man laughs a unique sound. "It would be my pleasure." And he launches into a history about
the stadium as he walks through the rows with Zoro. Then he leads Zoro out and down a short hall,
talking all the way. Shows him the changing room and a small warm up room. "This is the space
for you to practice in before your bout. There is another on the opposite side of the stadium that we
have in use for the tournament as well. If we head in that direction, I can also show you where to
get some snacks if you're hungry." The lanky man goes to walk out.

"Could-" The man stops at the door, looking back at Zoro. "Needa warm-up."

"Ah, my apologies. I suppose that will cut our tour short then."

"Sorry," he finds himself apologizing in response to the man's apology. He seemed to be genuinely
enjoying walking Zoro around.

"No worries."

Zoro sets his bag down and pulls out his jump rope, gloves, and shoes. Before he gets to them,
though, he ties Kuina's bandana around his head, sits on the floor and meditates.

A few minutes pass before he opens his eye. He stands back up and sees the old man still
hesitating at the exit. His brows furrow. "You ... okay?"

The man nods. "Of course, I'll be going now."

Zoro remembers how he had been sitting in the arena all by himself. "Wait." The man turns
around. "Wanna stay?"

A look of relief flits over his face, replaced by a wide smile. "Do you really mean that?"

Why would I say something I don't mean? He nods.

"I would love to. If you need help warming up I can assist you with that as well! Though I do tend
to talk a lot, I hope that won't distract you."

"'S fine." After meditating, he's intensely focused. Not much can distract him like this, especially
not the innocent ramblings of a lonely man. He points to himself, "Won't answer."

The man nods, hair bouncing with the movement. He sits on a long bench off to the side. "That's
quite alright. Please, focus on yourself, I'm well used to filling up the quiet."

"Right."

He kicks off his gymshoes and starts tying up his boxing ones. Flexes his feet, making sure the
laces are tight- they are- before starting to run through his warm-ups. The man's voice is soothing
and blurs easily into the background. Zoro puts his effort into each movement and an hour or two
must have passed before a referee and a red-haired man- who Zoro assumes is from his opponent's
team- come in. The referee goes over the rules, tells him he's up in thirty, and that him and the red-
head will be watching the wraps be put on. Both men wait as Zoro walks over to his bag and takes
them out.

"Do you have gauze?"

The old man is standing right in front of him. He approached so silently Zoro didn't notice, and if
he was any less dialed in he would've jumped. As it is, he nods, dropping the wraps back in the bag
and digging for the roll of gauze and tape. He turns, stares calmly up at the man's chest.

The two new observers are silent.

"May I?" Thin palms are held open.

"Know how?"

The old man nods, something of a secret smile on his face. "I'm very familiar."

Zoro half-shrugs, half-nods, handing over the tape. He's ushered over to sit on the bench. The man
sits next to him, rolls in hand. Zoro offers out his right hand and the man takes it, winding the
material around his wrist and knuckles in a practiced motion. Normally he doesn't have anyone to
do his hands, so he wraps them himself using the cloth wraps. He prefers the gauze though, makes
for a better fit, so it's nice having someone to tape his hands up. The old man finishes the right and
Zoro finds an easy, relaxed expression on both of their faces. He extends his left. The man takes it
and does the same thing. "Thank you," Zoro says, once his hands are set and settled back in his lap.
And if they didn't have an audience, or he wasn't about to go up and fight, he'd offer more than just
thanks.

"Alright, let's see." The referee and other man approach, both inspecting his hands. "Looks good,
good luck." The ref initials them. The red-haired man nods in agreement and they both leave the
room.

Once the door is closed, the old man turns to him, "Your gloves?"

Zoro quickly digs them from his bag and holds them out. The man grabs and goes to put them on,
though his fingers brush over his wrapped wrist first. "Lots of scars for a young man," he says, and
Zoro freezes at the mention of them. They're covered now, but the man just had a close-up of the
countless marks on his fingers and wrists alone.

Ultimately, he doesn't know how to respond, so he doesn't.

The man nods in understanding and focuses back at their hands. He straps Zoro's gloves on tight.

When he's done Zoro thanks him again. Bows his head deeply.

He chuckles a little in response. "Thank you for providing me with your company. I don't have
many people left who are willing to do even that anymore."

Zoro nods. There's an age-old tragedy of a story in his voice. It's what has Zoro offering him,
"Tonight, then two ..." He clears his rough throat. "More. Sit- you want."

The man looks confused for a long second. "You're okay with me sitting in on your warm-ups
again? And you have two bouts after tonight."

He hums the affirmative. This tournament takes only the winners of the regional tournaments so
there are significantly less fighters, which means less bouts, and ones that are more spread out.
Zoro only has to fight through three men over the course of six days to take the title.

"I think I will take you up on that. As long as I won't pose a distraction to you." The man's words
come out too fast to understand.

"Sorry?"

"Ah, my apologies." He slows his speech, "I was just saying that I don't have to if I distracted you
too much today."

Oh. He shakes his head, "No ... 's nice." Then he holds up his gloves, "Good."

The man's smile widens. "O-ho, you flatter me!" There's a knock on the door. "Well, I think you
must be going now. Best of luck to you, young man. I'll see you soon."

Zoro stands, stretching large. "Thank you." The knock comes again. The man's odd laugh follows
him out the door. He walks behind a stadium worker, head up like it only ever is before a match.
His focus is a clear lens between him and everything else. A wave of noise hits him when he
reenters the arena. The bottom level is half-full and people are still coming in. He's the first of a
few bouts tonight.

He's led to the ring where his opponent is already jumping around. He's blonde, going by the color
of his goatee, and huge. Behind him are a group of unique looking people, and Zoro recognizes
from among them the red-haired man. The ref inspects them both. His opponent's people set up
their corner and they are both called to the center of the ring.

An announcer's voice booms over speakers, introducing his opponent- a man nicknamed 'Killer'.
He's from the South and fighting red corner. Zoro gets introduced next, in blue.
The referee instructs them to their corners. He takes a deep breath. On the exhale he releases the
remaining tension in his body.

Killer surges toward him with the ref's call.

Zoro is light on his feet and ducks out of heavy thrown combos. He keeps an in-and-out motion, not
letting Killer adjust or find his distance- sending a precise jab between his guard whenever the man
gets too close. The man's corner is yelling. The whole crowd is screaming. He blocks a few hits
with his arms, gets caught with a left hook to the head that he sees just a split second too late. Still,
he rolls with it to lessen the impact. Killer turns up his aggressiveness and Zoro sees his opening.

He backs up. His opponent follows him with heavy pressure. Zoro's almost against the ropes when
he throws a 1-2, baits the man into that left hook again that Zoro rolls out of this time. He touches
the man with a jab as a follow-up right swings through and then Zoro comes in with a hard
combination. The right staggers him. The left shovel hook that he snaps under the man's chin puts
him on the floor.

The referee pushes him back as he starts counting and the crowd goes crazy.

Count goes to 10 and he's still struggling to get back up. A roar erupts from Zoro's chest, and it
joins that of the whistling crowd. Some workers- a medic among them- rush into the ring along
with his opponent's team. He beams out at the arena, raising his arms in the air. A cheer is raised at
the gesture. The announcer is saying something that can barely be heard over the crowd's noise.
Zoro turns back to the ring where Killer is being hauled up to sit. The man's eyes are more open
now at least and he spares Zoro a bleary glance. Zoro bows to him and the team surrounding him.

Once the man is able to stand, the ref has them both back in the center of the ring. Zoro's hand gets
raised as the announcer calls the match. One last surge of clapping and shouting runs through the
arena. The sound is loud and it lifts his arms higher.

Grateful, he thanks his opponent for the bout and takes one last look out at the stadium before
ducking out of the ropes.

One down, two to go.

He groans to get the noise to stop.

It doesn't.

Blindly, he fumbles his arm around, reaching for the source. His hand slaps against wood a few
times but the vibrating noise doesn't stop. It pauses for a second and Zoro slumps back in bed,
relieved.

Then it starts up again. He reaches his arm out again, snatching his phone off the dresser. His eye
is still closed but he thinks he hits 'answer' before pressing it to his ear.
There's silence. He breathes deeply, phone slipping from his hand as he falls back asleep.

"Kid?"

He retightens his grip on the phone. "Mmh-?" His eye is so heavy he can't open it. Doesn't want to
open it, just wants to sleep.

"Zoro, you there?"

The words bounce around his ears.

He hums.

"You alright, kid? It's ..." he gets pulled into a sleep haze, "... n't think I'd be waking you up."

There's an apology there, maybe. Or a worry in the voice. Fuck, get up. He forces his eye open.
Slowly, the tired fog fades from his mind.

"Zoro?" Smoker's voice prompts again.

"Here," he forces the word out. It sounds too deep and scratchy even for his own ears. "Sorry." He
stretches his body through down to his toes, which- mistake because it makes him aware of the too
many things that hurt.

"You okay?"

He nods. Rolls slowly into a sitting position. "-t's up?"

His tone is tighter than usual, "Nothing. Just calling to check in."

That's ... that's not- that's strange, isn't it?

The rest of his fogged brain lets up and he looks around the motel room with the clarity of a fully-
awake person. Hina normally calls, not Smoker. There must be something-"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. Really."

Zoro's brows furrow.

"Just- well, where are you right now?"

Shit. He gets out of bed, runs a hand through his wayward hair. It's grown long over the last few
months, now easily past his eyes. "Not home," he says, grabbing his hairpins off the dresser to pin
his bangs back.

"So I hear."

So he hears? I didn't tell anyone I was leaving for this.

"Robin and Franky were over last night." Fuck. "He said you're out of town. That he signed you up
for the national tournament."

Great. He walks the few steps to the motel sink to wash his face. Resigned, he admits, "He did."

"Okay," he hears Smoker take a deep breath. "So that's where you are right now?"

He nods, scrubbing his face with water as he balances the phone between his ear and shoulder.
"Yes." Then, because Smoker doesn't sound too happy about it, he adds on, "Sorry."

A sigh. "No, it's ... it's fine, kid. You're free to do anything you want. So you have the choice not to
tell us things- but, fuck Zoro, this is big." Shit, he's really upset. "I don't know if me or Hina
would've been able to take off work to come, but at least we could've tried. We-" Another sigh.
Zoro ignores the emotions swelling in his throat. "Did you tell any of your friends about it?"

"... No."

There's silence on the other end of the line. "You're by yourself over there." It's not a question, so
Zoro doesn't treat it as one. Just starts heating up some leftover breakfast he had picked up earlier
as he waits for Smoker to continue. "Shit, kid. Is it at least going well?"

Zoro nods. "Two bouts, won. Last- tomorrow."

"Well that's good." An extended pause has him checking to see if the call dropped. It hasn't, though
Smoker seems to be distracted with something. "I'm worried about you," he admits on an exhale.

Confused, Zoro tries to reassure him. "I'll win."

"No, not about that. But it's been over a month the last time anyone's seen you. Hina said you're
still answering her calls, which is good, but we want to see you, kid. I would've wanted to be there
with you tomorrow, you understand?"

I just didn't want to bother anyone, make you feel like you had to come. Didn't want to burden you
more than I already have.

"'M sorry."

"Just promise me you'll keep us updated. Next time Hin asks what's new, maybe tell her that you're
fighting in the fucking national boxing championship, instead of just saying 'nothing', you know?"
At Zoro's pause, he sighs, "We care about you, Zoro. We want to know what's going on with you."

Fuck. He swipes at his tired eye. "Okay, yes. Promise."

The microwave beeps and Zoro takes out his food.

"You headed back tomorrow night then?"

"Morning after. Home saturday."

"Maybe we could see you when you come back?"

He hums.

"Well good luck. Hina says she hopes you saved enough room in your bags for the belt."

He laughs for what feels like the first time these past few weeks. "Yeah, it'll fit."

He pounds his gloves together, one, two. The sound echoes off the walls of the lockerroom.
His breathing is controlled, even. His body is warm and his skin is sweat-damp. A prowling beast
claws in his chest, rumbling to be let out. He feels deadly calm.

"How do you know you'll win?" The old man asks, standing up off the bench.

Because I need to. Because my ambition is all I have.

Zoro shrugs, smiling.

The old man nods. Holds the door open for Zoro where a worker is waiting to lead him into the
arena for the last night. "Well, it was wonderful meeting you, young man, and I enjoyed your
company greatly this week." He holds Zoro's gloves as he passes. "You have a strong spirit, I'm
eager to see where it will take you."

The good company has gone both ways, made Zoro feel more human before his matches. He
thanks him, wrapping him up in a brief hug. The man lets out a surprised sound before his bony
arms return the embrace.

They separate and Zoro follows the worker into the stadium, the same way he has for the past few
days. The seats are all filled up for the final bout of the tournament.

His opponent is tall and large, with wing tattoos peeking out from the back of his tanktop. They
stand before each other like titans. And at the ref's call, the battle begins.

It's almost the end of the third round by the time Zoro finally finds a solid weakness in the man's
defense. It's too close, I need to finish this. I can finish this.

The clappers sound. Zoro lunges.

A vicious combo has the man stuttering on his feet before he slumps to the floor. Knocked out.

The crowd starts screaming and Zoro smiles, raising his sore arms. The medic is leaned over the
man, still out cold on the mat. Zoro yanks his gloves and headgear off. Presses his gauze wrapped
palms to the top of his head where his bandana sits. His heart feels so light yet full of emotion that
it makes him dizzy.

He's brought to the middle and the referee holds up his arm. Deafening noise surrounds him. He
falls to his knees. His chest hurts so much he thinks briefly the man must've broken one of his ribs.
He bodily pushes all his pain down as he bows his head, unties the blue cloth from around his
head. A belt is wrapped around his waist.

He stands back up, bowing to the man on the floor and to the crowd that still cheers for him.

Then he hoists the championship belt into the air with one arm. Kuina's bandana with the other.
And he smiles.

.
"You're not home yet?"

Loud rumbling makes him struggle to catch Blondie's words. "Few hours."

"That cop said you'd be back by today at noon."

Cop. Does he mean Smoker? He shrugs. Anyway, the train is a behind schedule, but should get
there around 4. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. All good. Just wanted you to stop by once you're back in town- if you're up for that?"

"Uh ..." He thinks of his lead-like bones, and the heavy cotton in his head. His swollen left cheek
that he's been icing for hours. The soreness of his wrists and hands. The purple-red bruising on his
knuckles and upper arms. The sharp pain that echoes up his torso every time he breathes too hard.

"Mosshead?"

I can barely fucking sit up straight, I can't fucking stop by and hang out. Still, he says, "Sure." And
curses himself.

"Great! I'll see you later tonight then?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, and Luffy says hi, by the way. He just didn't want to call because he said you hate talking on
the phone."

I do. "Tell- hi. Thank you."

"Will do."

The call ends and Zoro slips the phone back in his pocket. He picks the ice pack back up and
presses it against his cheek. It's lost a lot of its chill over the last hour, though he can't find the
energy to get up just yet and ask for a new one.

He put his body through a lot this past week. This past month, really. And he's definitely feeling it
all now. With his fight-fueled adrenaline long gone, his body feels heavier than ever.

It softens his aches a little to know he won.

You'll be fine. Almost home.

He drifts through the next few hours until the train guy wakes him up, telling him it's his stop
soon. Zoro gathers his few bags and waits at the sliding doors. A few other people join him as they
get closer. When they arrive, Zoro is straight off the train and onto a bus, taking it to his apartment.
The elevator is still broken, so he trudges up the few flights of steps. He locks the apartment door
behind him, dropping his bags on the floor and limping over to collapse on his mattress.

He breathes out deeply. Sinks further into the bed.

His eye closes.

Blondie's still expecting me by the apartment.

Shit.

Laying down seems to have been a mistake now, because he doesn't think he can get back up. You
promised him you'd go.

Zoro pushes himself up with a struggle. He groans as his ribs press against torn blood vessels deep
in his side. Pain a haze over his mind, he just barely manages to drag himself to the shower. His
whole body stings- it's worth it for the water to be warm for once- and when he gets out he stands
in front of the fogged up mirror for a long minute.

You're clean. You're good.

He sighs.

He's still in pain, but when in his life has he ever not been, and at least his head feels like it fits on
his shoulders now after the shower. You're fine. He dries himself off. His wet hair gets shaken out,
bangs pinned back. He throws a dark gray, oversized, waffle knit sweater on over a high-neck
compression shirt. Pairs it with a loose, but warm, pair of black pants. Is almost out the door when
he gets a text from Luffy asking to bring his duffel with him. Confused, but not enough to question
it, he scoops the bag off the floor and walks out. He hops on the subway to get to their place.

It's strange, but he feels better having somewhere to go- a distraction from his apartment that
somehow seems more empty now, upon his return, than it did before he left.

He gets off at their stop and walks the rest of the way. Soon enough he's knocking on the door.
There's some movement on the other side, a hushed commotion. His forehead creases. The door
opens. And then he's getting shouted at by a mix of voices.

"CONGRATULATIONS!"

Zoro steps back in the doorway, floored. Struggling to understand what he's seeing.

It's a group of his friends, gathered in Blondie's streamer-decorated apartment. A sign with
congrats champ written on it that Smoker and Hina are standing under. He might cry.

Luffy gives him no longer than two seconds to take everything in before he's on him, blowing a
noisemaker as he launches himself forward. "ZORO!"

Zoro catches him with ease. He's really too shocked to properly feel any pain from it. Noodle arms
sling around his neck and Luffy squeezes tight before hopping down.

"Let him come in, dumbass, we want to say hi too." There's Nami.

Luffy apologizes with a smile, then starts blowing the noisemaker in her face. Zoro takes a few
steps forward. Blondie grabs his arm and brings him inside the rest of the way.

"You alright?" A voice asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

He's too overwhelmed to recognize who spoke but he nods. This is all- He's dreaming, he must be.
"What ... what's this?"

"A party, obviously." Blondie has a smile on his face, even as he scoffs.
"For-"

"You, yes."

"Congratulations, hun."

He blinks tears away at the sound of Hina's voice. "You all ..." They did this for me? He can't
believe it. "Thank you." He swallows back heavy emotions. "I don't-"

A hand is clapped over his shoulder. He looks up at Smoker. "We're proud of you, kid. Your
friends wanted to surprise you with a party once they heard you won."

How did they- "Yeah, we watched your last match on stream. That guy you fought was huge- but
you did an awesome job against him!" Usopp gushes from the kitchen. It currently doesn't feel like
he did an awesome job, but the compliment has his ears burning regardless. They watched?

"Anyway, we can talk all about it over some food. I'm sure you're hungry."

He shrugs, though his mouth has started to water at the smell coming from the kitchen. He's
handed a plate along with everyone else and they all pile food into their dishes from a large spread
selection on the counter. Everyone settles to sit somewhere in the living room, some on the floor,
others on the couches. Zoro catches Blondie before he leaves the kitchen, thanks him profusely. He
hasn't had homecooked food in a week. Hasn't had Blondie's in even longer, and it looks delicious,
and the man made so much. Blondie smiles, moves them both to sit. They all eat in a comfortable
peace, only interrupted by Luffy's muffled- from all the food stuffed in his mouth- talking. Zoro
probably shouldn't think it's as cute as he does. A few questions are directed toward him, and Zoro
tries his best to answer with yes's and no's.

After some minutes once they've all finished, and Luffy has downed at least four plates, Zoro
relaxes back into the couch. His body feels warm, light- and it overshadows his pain.

Sentiments are passed around by his friends on how they wish they could've been there instead of
watching it online. It surprises him to hear them all so adamant about it. They really would've
wanted to come, just like Smoker said. He apologizes profusely which gets a few laughs, though
he's not in any way kidding.

"Zoro brought his bag, right?"

"Oh," he nods, getting up with shaky limbs. Walks over to the bag that he set by the door and
brings it back over. He hands it to Luffy, still unsure why he asked for it. The answer is revealed no
less than a second later when Luffy snatches it up and immediately undoes the zipper. He pushes
aside a few clothes to grab for the championship belt. Once in hand, he springs up, thrusting it into
the air with a roar. "I'm the champ!" He exclaims, and everyone laughs as he parades around the
room. Zoro smiles fondly. Usopp buttons the belt in the back and then Luffy starts shadowboxing
with absolutely terrible form as he approaches Zoro. When he gets close enough Zoro catches his
tightly balled fists mid-throw. Smiles and lowers them back down to his sides.

"Zoro's so cool! When we found out you were doing a tournament, I said I knew you'd win. And
then you did!"

He rubs his thumbs on the backs of Luffy's hands. "Thank you." Then he remembers something
and he drops them, side protesting when he reaches down for his bag. Luffy goes back to running
around. Zoro picks the small photo out of one of the pockets and walks to the couch Hina and
Smoker are sitting on. He offers the photo out, head down and kneeling next to the couch as he
waits. Smoker takes it from him.

Hina gasps softly, though it's barely heard from all the chatter behind him. "Oh, hun, it's beautiful."

He looks up. Smoker has taken out his reading glasses to be able to see the picture better and Zoro
sees the second his forehead smooths out as he realizes what he's looking at. "You look so ..."

"Happy." Hina finishes, handing him it back. It's a photo a worker had taken of him when he got
the belt. It was snapped just as he held it up along with his bandana. The expression on his face is
relaxed, smile genuine and easy. The lighting hit bright from above, highlighting the sweat
dripping down his body and the shine in his eye. He was handed the picture before he left the
casino and hasn't looked at it since, but the initial glance said he looked alright in it. He glances
again at it now and is surprised to find his thought unchanged. Luffy is in front of him suddenly,
making grabby hands. Zoro hands it over and then the photo gets passed around the room, earning
its various oohs.

He stands off his knees, walks in front of the tv and faces toward the room. Doesn't clear his throat,
but all the attention is on him anyway. "Thank you, all. Everything." He looks to the floor to make
it easier to speak. "Support and- Means ... so much. Never thought-" he cuts himself off. They
won't want to hear all that. Shakes his head. He folds himself over. "Thank you."

A distinct aww sounds from Nami and then orange hair swims in his vision as she gets up to hug
him. She's joined by another few pairs of arms and Zoro relaxes into the hold, warm and safe.

He rolls his shoulders, arms flexing against the tight fabric. Pulls at the collar and undoes the top
button so it can stop digging into his neck.

"You look good, stop pouting."

Zoro's frown- it's a frown not a pout- deepens further. A complaining hum vibrates from the back
of his throat.

"Don't worry so much, it'll be fun, promise." Blondie adjusts his own tie. "Law's gonna be there."

He can't stop the blush from rising to his cheeks at the mention of the older man. "So?" He crosses
his arms, turning his back to the counter. Blondie takes his eyes off himself in the mirror a second
to flash Zoro a flat look. Then he focuses back on touching up his gelled hair. "Don't ask me like
you don't know. You're telling me there's nothing between you two?"

Zoro shrugs. Picks idly at some stray lint on his dress pants. He doesn't see Law too much, but
when he does the man flirts with him a lot. They've yet to fuck, which he assumes is what Law
wants from him more than a serious relationship. Not that Zoro thinks he's ready at all anyways for
any type of a serious relationship.

"Well, as his friend and yours, I can say he likes you."

Law is nice. Patient with him and kind. It doesn't mean he wants something to be going on between
them. "I dunno."

Blondie sighs, "Just have fun tonight anyway, don't worry about that. I'm sure it'll get figured out
eventually." He does one last adjustment to his tie and then turns to Zoro, looking him up and
down with a critical eye. His eyes zero in on where his black dress shirt is tucked into his pants and
he reaches his hands forward, fixing where it wrinkles. Zoro holds him there when he goes to pull
back. Blondie wide-eyes him, fingers twitching above his waistband. "Thank you," he leans and
presses a soft kiss to Blondie's cheek.

The man retreats instantly, face tomato-red. He splutters a second before holding up what can only
be called a scolding finger. "Hey! No." Zoro shrugs. Blondie starts shaking his head, "I can't. Law's
already told me he's interested in you which means, even if I want to, I can't. Don't make me
violate the bro code here."

Expression unapologetic, he says, "Sorry."

Blondie scoffs, smiling, and the red slowly bleeds away to a warm pink. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get
going anyway, don't want to be the last ones to the restaurant. You think Ace got Luffy ready yet?"

He shrugs.

"Yeah, me neither." They walk over to Luffy's room, which is a mess of clothes thrown
everywhere. Luffy swings his feet casually at the edge of the bed as Ace digs through his closet.
"Ace, we gotta go. How has this taken so long?"

Ace turns around and sighs, exasperated. His face brightens a bit at seeing them in the doorway.
"He's insistent on wearing shorts, even though it's fucking freezing out and nothing I find works
right with them."

Blondie tsks, walking to the closet and pushing the older man away. "You've been away too long,
you forgot how easy it is to get this man dressed." He pulls out a maroon shirt and black trousers.
"Luffy, grab me a black tie." The man hops up off the bed and retrieves one. Blondie holds the
outfit out to him. "Listen, we need to go, so you're wearing this. The pants are comfortable enough
for you to jump around in and if you wear the tie with the shirt, I'll even let you roll them up a bit,
'kay?"

Luffy mouth shifts to the side, thinking. "And you buy me extra meat for dessert."

Blondie sighs, though it seems the proposition was expected. "And I buy you extra meat for
dessert," he concedes.

"YES!" He drops his pants and gets dressed at the speed of light.

Ace leads him out the room as Blondie helps Luffy with his tie, which Zoro is surprised is an
actual one and not just a clip-on. "You doing alright, man? We haven't had much chance to talk
since I came."

It's been a week since he got back from the tournament and most of his aches have faded to
something manageable. He's been sleeping better too, feels well-rested like he hasn't in a while.
Zoro nods, "'M good. You?"

Ace just got into town an hour ago- in the midst of them getting ready- having come dressed for
Usopp's graduation dinner. They indeed didn't talk much, though the man had eyed the purple-
green bruise on his face upon first seeing him. He eyes it now with the same worry. "I'm same as
always. What've you been up to?"

He shrugs. "Work. Training."

"Nice." Ace nods. His eyes keep glancing at the bruised cheek. "You've got-"

"I know."

"Last time I came into town you were ..." he struggles to find the words, "... in a bad place. Is it
still-?"

"No," he rushes out. "No, I'm ... he's-" a cold feeling runs through him. "-it's good. 'M okay."

Ace seems unconvinced.

"Just fighting," he points to his face, holds out his purple knuckled hands. "Promise."

That makes him breathe a little easier. "Good, that's ... that's great news, man."

"Alright, we're ready, everyone in the car. Let's go." Blondie comes striding out of Luffy's room,
said man in tow. He locks up the apartment and they head to the underground garage and pile into
the car. Blondie plays some type of relaxing music as he drives and soon enough they're pulling up
outside of a large, fancy restaurant. Luffy is chattering, overly excited about how he's sure they'll
have the best food. Blondie and Ace admonish him to act classy and they laugh when Luffy sulks.
And Zoro would join in if there wasn't ice currently shooting through his body, keeping him frozen
still.

I know this place.

I've been here before.

Someone calls his name from far, he thinks. Everything is muffled, mute. I've been here before.
One of Sir's business deals.

It's fine, it's just a restaurant. You're being stupid. And yet every muscle in his body is vibrating,
screaming at him to get away, get away, get away.

Fuck.

"Zoro?"

Everything slowly comes back into focus and he realizes they haven't gotten out of the car.

"Sorry," he mumbles, ignoring their wary looks in favor of opening the door. The night air is cool,
too much so against his already chilled skin. He looks up again at the restaurant. Can't quite
suppress his ensuing shudder.

Luffy jumps out of the car, approaches slow. "Zoro's okay?"

He nods, swallowing hard. You're fine.

Luffy reaches an arm out and Zoro tenses hard. The arm is dropped. "Zoro."

Zoro shakes his head, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Good. Let's go?"

The three make unsure eye contact with each other, but ultimately agree. They walk as a group to
the entrance. Blondie says something to the man at the front and they're led to a almost full, large
table near the bar. It seems their group is the last to arrive. Usopp is there, mid-story, and Zoro
recognizes most of the people around him. A laugh and some profanities are shared amongst the
table. Usopp smiles as they approach, and they all congratulate him, handing him an envelope
before taking their seats. Zoro sits across the round table next to Law. Ace settles in on his other
side. Surrounded by his friends, it's easier to push his unease to the side and just focus on the
company. This is Usopp's graduation party. Just because it's the same restaurant doesn't mean
he'll be here. You're fine.

"You're late guys! Everybody's starving."

Ace apologizes on their behalf and a waiter is called over.

Drinks and food are ordered around. Then it gets to Zoro. His throat attempts to work a few times,
though the effort is futile. And it looks like he'll have more trouble than he thought trying to put
what happened last time out of mind today, because he knows this fucking waiter.

Fuck.

He refuses any alcohol and stumbles through an order that he's not even sure he wants. The waiter
looks at him with knowing eyes. Eyes that recognize him. Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn't be here. The
waiter finishes taking everyone's orders and then spares him a long look before walking off. His
leg bounces wildly under the table. Fuck this. What if he's here? What if the waiter tells
him I'm here? He's still in jail, right? He has to still be-

A thumb brushes over thick scars that wrap around his wrist. He snaps his head up. Law is chatting
casually with someone next to him, though his finger doesn't pause in it's motion. Zoro breathes.

Then breathes again.

Focuses on the soft touch to keep him out of his head.

Slowly his leg stills. He squeezes Law's hand, grateful. You're dirty, don't touch him. And lets the
hand drop.

Stop it, I'm fine. After I came back I was supposed to be better, why- And anyways, Law doesn't
think I'm dirty. He's touched me before. He was touching me fine just now.

Yeah, because you were freaking out. You really think he'd touch you if you knew? Do you think
any of them would touch you if they did? Fucking hell, just the last time you were here you left with
another man and got fucked the night through.

"-Zoro? Is that right?"

He snaps out of it again. "Sorry?"

Usopp's voice carries across the table, "They're all calling me a lightweight, so I was telling them
about the time I outdrank you!"

The confusion keeps him away from his negative thoughts for the moment. Outdrank me? But I
don't ... Does he mean that time he got all plastered and emotional at- "The bar?"

His eyes light up, "Yes, exactly! Didn't I outdrink you?"

"I guess," he says with a shrug. Then points to himself, "Wasn't drinking."
The table is on Usopp immediately, all laughs with 'Told you you're a lightweight' and 'Drinking
more than someone sober doesn't count as outdrinking, you idiot'. Usopp holds his hands up in
defense, accepting the lighthearted teasing. The conversation is led somewhere else and Zoro's
attention is pulled away when Law settles a burning hand on his knee. He looks up at the man, eye
wide.

Warm breath tickles his ear suddenly, as Law leans forward. "You look stunning tonight, in case
no one has told you yet."

His face is too hot. Law pulls away an inch.

"Well? Has anyone told you?" The hand trails up to rest on his mid-thigh.

"I-"

"Oi." Ace says. Zoro switches to look at him. But Ace isn't looking at him. He's got his narrowed
eyes on Law. The man stares back, hand unmoving, unimpressed and irritated at the interruption.

"Can I help you somehow, Ace-ya?"

Ace swats at the offending hand. It lifts after a moment, though not without great reluctance from
Law. "Stop trying to make a move on my brother."

Law barks a laugh at that. "Luffy-ya's over there, busy eating all the butter packets. I'm not doing
crap to him."

"Not him, Tra-guy. I'm talking about Zoro."

An eyebrow is raised. "You're joking." His attention turns to Zoro. "You're related to these idiots?"

Zoro shakes his head. He points to Ace and says, "Long time."

"We go way back- brothers in everything but blood." Zoro smiles softly at the words. Ace smiles
too, though for a different reason. "Which means, keep your paws to yourself tonight, doc."

Law is back to looking annoyed. "Tch, I don't think Zoro-ya minded." He looks at Zoro softer,
wordlessly asking for confirmation.

He nods, "Didn't." I hadn't minded at all.

Ace is contemplative a second, gauging the authenticity of the statement. "Fine. But keep it to a
minimum."

Law gives him the middle finger, hovers his other hand- waiting- back over Zoro's thigh. Ace turns
away, saying something to someone across the table. Zoro mumbles a, "Go ahead." The hand
settles, warmth seeping through the cloth where it rests. "Thank you."

Law smiles. Conversation buzzes around them. His eyes light up, "I almost forgot- Luffy-ya tells
me you won a national boxing tournament?"

"Last week," he nods, finds a smile on his face in response to Law's.

"That's impressive as fuck! I was so happy for you when I heard."

His eye softens further, "Thanks."

"I really am proud of you, I know you train like a crazy person- but it seems like it paid off. Are
you planning to go pro?"

"Yes. I-"

"Okay!" The fucking waiter is back. Full tray in hand. "Here's everyone's drinks and of course the-
"

"FOOD!"

Luffy is promptly smacked in the head by Nami.

"Yes, the food will be out in one minute." The man makes his way around the table, announcing
each drink before he sets it down. Some ordered beer, lemonade, others wine, for Zoro he just
wanted, "Water for you." On his way to set it down he whispers a question about Crocodile into
green hair that Zoro frozen in his seat. Fuck, he knows. Fuck this, fuck this, fuck. I knew he
recognized me. The waiter hovers over Zoro's shoulder a tense moment. Continues on. Smile on his
face like nothing happened. Only once he's out of sight and the dishes are all set down does Zoro
let go of his rigidity. He takes a heaving breath that thankfully everyone else is too distracted to
notice. Then he snatches up his water, needing to ease the roughness of his throat.

Conversation continues on and Zoro tries his best to pay attention. He picks around at his plate.
Ace talks to him and he responds a little in turn. And then he starts feeling lightheaded. Fuck, the
last thing I need is to get a migraine right now. He downs the rest of his water. Takes a few more
bites of food.

He's focusing at the content smile on Usopp's face when his vision starts blurring. Shit, shit, what
the fuck. He blinks rapidly and it only worsens. Rubbing at his eye doesn't help either and in the
attempt to lower his arm he ends up smacking his leg. He recognizes the amused look Ace gives
him. It directly opposes the panic rising in his chest because-

My arms. I can't move my arms right.

He makes the effort to grab his fork and continue eating as normal. His hand barely raises from his
side. Fuck. What's happening with me? I haven't even drank any alcohol.

Don't make ... don't make a scene here. But thoughts are melting slowly out his ears. Don't- need to
... bathroom. Fix myself up in the bathroom. It takes all his conscious will to stand up- the back of
his chair as a stabilizer- without falling over himself. One foot in front of the other he starts
walking. Someone asks where he's going and he tries to respond though it comes out slurred. One
foot in front of the other. One ... four feet. I have four. Tha's new ... right? He looks up and finds
the room spinning. Immediately looks back down at his four legs. Forward. Bathroom, wanted ...

He shoulders the door open because his arms won't listen. Stumbles into the- bright, bright. Too
fuckin- The lights burn his throbbing head so he closes his eye. Shit, something's wrong. I'm not
right, I'm- A step is taken and he falls. Sprawled on the floor he struggles to use his limbs to get
himself back up. When he opens his eye he finds the sinks laughing at him. Laughing. Sinks can
laugh? The walls join in and close in and Zoro whines, the sound barely escaping his throat. Not
right. All the sudden. Why's everything-

Panic tastes like burning bile in his mouth and he scrambles away from the screaming door.
Slumps against the wall.

A man walks in ... two men?- his vision unblurs a second, no- one. Comes close. Stands tall, too
 tall. Says something but Zoro can't focus his eye enough to read his lips and the sound is all
jumbled. Too quick, why-? The man becomes two again, his outfit that of a- Waiter. Thi's the- Zoro
screams. Or tries to- doesn't get louder than a choked out exhale. No. No, no, no, no, no- He can't
run, has lost major control over his body and mind. Still he attempts to get away. The waiter grabs
him by the back of his shirt and slams him, too easily, into the floor. Places a foot on his back.

Bad, mean laughs fill his burning head.

Fingers fist in his hair. His head lifts up. With a hand in his pocket he blindly opens his phone, has
enough grasp on himself to try and call any of the few numbers he has in there. Help, need-

"C'mon big boy, can't keep the boss waiting." Is what's said right before the floor comes speeding
toward his face.

Chapter End Notes

YALL IK THE ENDING WAS MEAN---- IM SO SORRY

fr tho hope you liked this chpt, there were lots of small details in it that i really liked so
pls LMK what you thought/your favorite parts/just yelling at me in general etc ! i love
every comment

idk when next update will be but ill try my best on it- read over this literally once so
might go back to edit since theres probably mistakes
thanks as always for reading <3
 dont you know the only way out ? (is through your fucking head)
Chapter Summary

zoro has a pretty awful time

Chapter Notes

nothing super graphic but ... well you know how it goes- also might want to read the
very last scene of last chapter as a refresh (ik i had to)
enjoy ?

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The bedcovers smell like fresh cologne and sex.

His head feels so heavy, tongue swollen in his mouth. Sleep. He nuzzles further into the pillow. A
sharp stabbing shoots through his back. He moans softly in pain. Reaches bound hands down his
body and feels dried cum and blood on his thighs. Shit. He wipes it off on the sheets underneath
him.

Legs like lead, he manages to sit up. Distantly he's knows that this is the first time he's been so
aware in a while.

His pupil is blown wide and his head pounds with the effort it takes to look around. The sheets are
gray and unfamiliar to him. But the bedroom- I know this room, don't I? How long have I been
here?

Outside the door is a man's voice. It's muffled, but he recognizes the tone from somewhere.

What happened last night?

Vision spotted and blurry, he looks down at his bare torso. It's covered in welts and bruises.
Scabbed over cuts litter his body. He's just starting to feel the pain radiating from the larger ones,
congealed blood a testament to their depth.

I- I didn't have these before. Before.

Before.

Before ... what?

He doesn't remember receiving any of these.

Something's wrong. Something's really wrong. I shouldn't be here.

Where is here?

He's indescribably hurting, still he moves, desperate to get out of the bed. His limbs respond
slowly, like they're just waking up. His arms are sluggish, but his legs- his legs don't budge an
inch. Weight. There's weight. Can't move. He throws the blanket off his lower half with hands
cuffed together.

"Shit." The word scratches its way out his bleeding throat.

He's fully naked- no I already knew that, more important is- His ankles are cuffed to either
bedpost. Legs spread wide and held down. The skin is rubbed raw and red from underneath the
metal. Metal cuffs just like the ones on his hands. And he takes in the dried blood under the silver.

What the fuck is going on? I don't-

Hot tears burn the back of his eye. His mind feels so hard to reach, body too hard to control. And
his memory- There was a party. Usopp's party and then ...

He groans, terrified and frustrated. It feels like the answer to everything is behind a locked box in
his head but he doesn't have the key. I should know this, I should know what happened last night.
Was it just last night?

Think. Think. There was a dinner, the restaurant. When was that?

His head pounds with the effort, yet no memories surface.

Shit.

Shit, why can't I remember?

I shouldn't be here. What am I doing here?

Dread rises slowly in his chest until it's choking him.

Where is here?

His forehead throbs. He can't breathe.

Why can't I remember anything?

The bedroom door swings open.

He comes to, cheek pressed into the floor, in a puddle of ... fluids. Fuck. His hands don't budge
from where they're secured behind his back. The cuffs keep him tethered to the foot of the bed.
He's kneeling- or had been and is fallen over now- bare ass in the air. His legs are useless
underneath him, held apart with some type of spreader bar and unmoving. He muscles himself up
with his core and is immediately hit by a dizziness that spins his head about. He collapses onto his
legs, back banging against the bedframe behind him. Breathe.

Breathe.

The spots in his vision vanish more with each slow inhale.

I'm losing time.

He doesn't know how long he's been here. Here?

Here.

Here. With the man that hurts you. The man.

The man, right. With the yellow eyes. Little rabbit, he calls you. Master, he likes to be called.

Zoro shudders.

There's gaps in his head that scare him. I've been here too long.

He can barely remember anything. He knows when the man comes in. When he's shoved around
and fucked but only until before he's given that fucking water. Then it gets blurry and his mind
goes away. When he wakes, out of it, but more clearheaded than he was- like now- the memories
are dark. All he feels is the aftermath of the pain of being cut open and torn apart.

He looks down at his body that doesn't feel like his and vomit rises. Swallowing it back down, he
closes his eye. His breathing is shaky. Don't look.

Blood slides down his neck from- from what? And he can't feel his left arm anymore. Anymore.
When did that happen?

Was I able to feel it last time I woke up?

Last time.

Last time.

I was awake before?

Nothing makes sense in his head. Everything hurts and nothing makes sense.

He'll be back soon and you'll go away again.

Arms numb, he pulls jerkily at the cuffs holding him to the bed. Cries out through the gag in his
mouth as the movement has metal digging into already present wounds. You've tried this before.
His whole body is trembling. How long have I been here?
He maneuvers his thumb so he can brush at the skin of his wrists. Goes terribly still when he feels
the depth of the wet valleys ringing his wrists formed by his past struggles.

Struggles that he can't remember.

And there's something wrong inside him. The same wrongness of when customers would be too
rough or use too big of things. Customers.

You were a whore before.

Before.

Did it never stop? Is that why I'm here?

Here.

He looks around the room.

Here. With the hawk-eyed man.

He'll come back soon. Cut you down again.

He tries to pull his hands apart from behind his back. Pain stings as the cuffs press into deep cuts.

Stop it. You just tried this.

You're losing yourself.

Blood trudges through his veins. Pulses, overly heated, against his shivering skin.

I need to get away from here.

Here?

No- You're doing it again. Stop it. You need to leave.

He feels behind him out for the bedpost he's cuffed to. There's a piece connected at top and bottom
of the post, giving him about a forearm-length to move his arms up and down. He pushes his sore
arms up until the cuffs clank. Then gets his feet under himself and yanks as hard as he can. A
blinding pain jolts through him. It's aftereffects light a smoldering fire down already fried nerve
endings. If there wasn't a gag in his mouth, he'd be panting through his teeth. Ignore it. The pain is
helping to clear this fucking blanket from his mind anyway, so he'll take it. The bed scrapes against
the floor when he shoves forward again. His vision goes all swimmy. Another time and the bed
shifts more. His shoulders pull tight between him and the post.

What's your plan? To pull the bed all the way through the goddamn door? Fucking idiotic-

Shut up. I have to try something to get out of these cuffs while I still can. While my mind is mostly
here. What else can I do?

He strains again and again. The bed moves with him each time and the cuffs don't budge.
"Quite a heavy load you're carrying."

No. Zoro stumbles back, legs folding under him. "Get away!" He shouts, voice hoarse. The plea is
garbled by the gag in his mouth and drool slips down his chin.

The hawk-eyed man stands in the doorway, expression of bored curiosity, eyes cold. Mihawk. How
did I forget?

"I can understand the urge to stretch your legs, but I have to say this is excessive. And much too
loud." He steps forward and Zoro flinches. A smile crawls onto his face.

"Go away," Zoro mumbles, for the sake of his remaining sanity. He knows Mihawk can hardly
understand him with his mouth obstructed- wouldn't listen anyway. "Go away, go away, go away."
He pulls against his restraints. "Lemme go."

The man stalks forward. Zoro's cheek stings, hair falling into his eyes as his head jerks to the side
from the force of a slap. "So ungrateful. And to think I was going to leave you lucid." Fingers
gouge into the sides of his neck. "Maybe I'll collar you here, make it so that you can't move
without it-" the grip tightens and pushes his head up, choking him. He hums, "That would leave
some nice marks too."

Zoro struggles, breathless in the hold. Mihawk releases him after a few seconds, ignores Zoro's
gasps for air in favor of leaving the room. He comes back a moment later, glass in hand. Zoro's
vision is still spotty but he sees it, recognizes what's about to happen. You're gonna go far away
again.

He shakes his head desperately.

I don't want it. Don't want any of this.

His mouth is freed of the gag for a second and he tries to clamp down, swallow pooled saliva, but
fingers are at his jaw too quick and then the water gets shoved down his throat. No, no, no, no, no-
He splutters and some water sprays down his chest before his mouth is held shut. He's only
released when the rest is swallowed down. Violent coughs rack his body and he screams but
doesn't get far before the gag is already secured back on. "You're like a dog gone rabid." Mihawk
slaps his wet cheek lightly a few times. "Are there even any thoughts up there anymore besides
resisting for the sake of resistance?"

He's being laughed at, he thinks.

"You know, the very first time I had you, you were so perfectly submissive." The very first time?
He sighs, "Now, it seems, you won't do anything unless I give you this," he sets the empty glass
down. "But you don't truly need the drugs to be my good little rabbit, do you?" He looks at Zoro as
though waiting for an answer.

Zoro huffs through the gag, confused and unsure. I don't like the water. And I don't wanna be good
for you.

"Well, until you learn I suppose it'll have to do." Learn. Learn what? "You're not going anywhere."
Mihawk leaves Zoro's line of sight. Zoro's system is already starting to shutdown, limbs going
heavy and mind cutting off. Minutes pass. The man returns with something in hand. "Oh, don't look
so dejected. You should be honored that I chose you." Honored.

The floor sways back and forth, rippling in Zoro's vision. He tilts his head. Almost tips over at the
movement. A voice tuts from above and then there's a hand at his shoulder, righting him. He looks
up into yellow eyes. Tries to look away but his head isn't listening well and everything is fuzzy.
"Please," he tries to say. Please. Don't wanna ... don't- He can't get enough breath in. Going away.
I'm-

His gag is slipped off, mouth held open by pale fingers.

A zipper unzips.

Blood runs down his sloped back, slipping around his sides to drip on the sheets, pooling at the
back of his neck. His ass is up, shoulders pressed into the mattress, arms cuffed and immobile
underneath him. It has to be approaching noon, if the bright light coming through the window
means anything.

His legs twitch and he groans as the vibrations from the toy inside him increase.

He wants to tear off his goddamn skin.

Mihawk left him like this a while ago. Bleeding heavily from the new, deep stripes up his back and
ass, and painfully aware. He had endured the man's brutal treatment with nothing fogging his
mind. Nothing to stop him from remembering the way the man had caressed the base of his spine
before ripping him apart. And then, on a whim before he left, Mihawk had pressed a vibrator into
him, set it on random. Hours have passed since.

The sunlight helps him keep time, when he's lucid enough to pay attention to it. Recently, he's been
lucid more often. He's seen less and less of that fucking water. But there are still large, tattered
holes in his memory. He doesn't know how he got here, or how long he's been here. He does know
he shouldn't be here.

Why not? You're a whore, and he's treating you like one.

No, I'm more than that. A fighter, I'm a fighter.

The vibrations slow to something more bearable. Zoro pants behind the cloth wrapped around his
mouth, relieved. He slumps a little, the movement causing the collar around his neck to dig in.
Chain taut where it connects him to the headboard. He quickly pushes himself back up until the
pressure on his neck abates.

Minutes pass, or maybe another hour, but it's still very light in the room when he hears the door
open. "Look at that." Mihawk muses from behind. A hand pets his ass and then slaps it. Squeezes.
Trails along his back. "What a nice sight you make like this, little rabbit." Fingers dig in to one of
the deeper lines in his back, pry the wound apart. Zoro's throat is too raw to scream. He drops his
head and the chain catches tight around his neck again as pain burns through him on a path straight
through to his head.

He barely registers Mihawk's hands grabbing at him.

Keeps his eye on a stray piece of fuzz on the mattress, far off from his body as Mihawk uses him,
finishes inside.

When he's done, he turns Zoro onto his cut-up back, tips water into his mouth and secures the gag
back in place. Fingers brush over the raised pink skin of his large chest scar. He grabs Zoro's
bound hands down by his stomach. Raises them up slowly, and Zoro knows he's about to secure
them to the chain on the headboard. He's close. Close enough that ... I have to do it now. Now
before the water takes me away again. Fuck, fuck-

In a quick motion, he jerks his arms to the left, then slams his right elbow into the man's head.
Mihawk shouts at the impact, body crumpling for a second as his equilibrium is thrown off. Zoro
grabs at his neck and squeezes. Mihawk struggles against him as his breathing is cut off, arms
clawing wildly at his body, and legs kicking out to push himself away. Zoro tightens his grip,
pulling the man's head up and away from his body as he does so. A few choked out sounds are
released and then he stops moving altogether. Zoro releases the hold, knows he will regain
consciousness in the next few seconds and wastes no time in positioning the man's head over his
stomach. Then he raises his arms as high as he can and slams elbow after elbow into his temple.

He continues like that for a solid, terror-fueled minute. His elbow is wet with blood. With a
muffled cry he throws one more and then shoves the man's head off him.

The room is quiet.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. What did I do?

Heartbeat thumps loudly in his head. He can't think.

Mihawk is still, body slumped atop his. Zoro thrusts him off, overwhelmed because- You're still
tied up, you fucking idiot. Stupid, stupid, stupid, fuck. He scratches at his tear-stained face. Fuck,
what did I do?

Need to get out. Needa leave before he wakes up. If he wakes up. Fuck, did I fucking kill him?

He just used me for what I'm good for, why did I-

Stop it. Stop. Right now. Think. Think. You need to get out.

He's shaking violently in his restraints.

You need to get out. Now, before the drug starts to wear on you.

Focus. He forces breath into his lungs. The shaking subsides into slow trembles. He pushes his
knees to his chest as close as he can. His feet are again held apart by the spreader bar, which is
infinitely better than if they were cuffed to the bedpost. He drags his hands to the bar, unclips it
from the leather cuff on his left ankle and then from the right. It falls to the mattress softly. He
closes his legs and relishes in the feeling.

You don't have time. Get it together.

He pulls his legs in, and struggles to get them under himself. Each movement places immense
pressure at his collar but he pushes through it, fighting through the brief moments of breathlessness
until he's finally kneeling up on the bed. His hands are still cuffed in front of him, neck chained
behind. He turns as much as he can to examine the chain holding him to the bed. I don't have a way
to take it off. Panic and a tired fear threaten to overtake him.

I need to get out. I can't fucking get out.

Mihawk's hand twitches and Zoro's heart shoves itself into his throat. Fuck, fuck, fuck- he's coming
to. He's coming to and I can't get out. From the blood rushing in his ears he almost misses the
sound of someone knocking at the front door.

Was that-?

The knock sounds again, words are said that Zoro can't make out because the room is too far but
it's-

Someone. Someone's here. They might, they can-

"HELP!" He yells, but it's muffled, it's fucking muffled from the gag. His arms shoot up. Please
don't leave, please- He rips the gag down and out of his mouth. "HELP! Help me! Please. I'm in
here!" He screams his throat ragged, words only just starting to slur.

There's a moment of silence, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

And then there's a crashing sound.

Mihawk stirs on the bed. Shouts come from somewhere inside the house, getting increasingly
loud.

The door to the bedroom bangs open and two uniformed men burst in, guns raised. Zoro flinches
hard, breath stopping in his chest. His head drops immediately. He whispers a litany of begging
under his breath as an officer approaches, tears streaming steadily down his face. Maybe I'm
imagining this, just like I imagined that pink-haired bartender coming in yesterday- was it
yesterday? But no, a hand is in his hair.

It's real. The hand moves to the back of his neck. Shit, shit.

I don't wanna, I don't wanna.

His mouth is gag-free, but he can't force any words out. Tongue flopping lamely behind his teeth.
Don't make me, please. So ... just- 'm tired. Tired, please. The officer is saying something to him,
hand at his collar, but Zoro's fading fast. I'm not ... no good. No good for this.

The hand leaves his neck and he senses the officer move behind him. It makes him too dizzy to
turn his head so he doesn't. Watches instead as the other uniformed man walks into the room, feels
at Mihawk's neck, then raises something to his mouth and talks. His words sound like static.
Banging sounds from behind him and then suddenly he's pitching forward, all the pressure gone
from the back of his collar. A thick forearm catches him along the chest before he hits the mattress,
helps him ease back onto his heels.

A hand waves in front of his face like a blur. It makes his head hurt and his head already fucking
hurts so much. "Please." He closes his eye.
A voice rumbles through him. Muffled, but steady. He thinks he recognizes the word "okay" being
repeated, over and again. Focus, needa ... stay up. Awake. Leaving, and Mihawk is ...

Zoro opens his eye. He seems to have lost time somewhere between one blink and the next. He's in
the corner of the bedroom now, hands still cuffed in front of himself and collar around his neck, but
it's no longer chained to anything. Something warm sits atop his shoulders, but his head is too
weighted to look down and see what it is. He looks out at the room and struggles to understand
what he's seeing.

There's police officers walking around the room, doing- well Zoro's not exactly sure what they're
doing.

Another one walks through the open door, glances around, then makes a beeline for him.

Zoro drops his chin. Pulsing head and sore neck protest at the movement. The man approaches
until his feet are in sight and his boots swirl with the floor. Colors melt into each other endlessly.

"Zoro," the officer says, and it's full of relief and emotion and said in a familiar voice.

He flinches. Familiar is bad ... means- means they know. Know what you are- 'll use you for it.

The officer talks much too fast for Zoro to comprehend. A question is asked but everything's fuzzy-
the officer's words, Zoro's uncooperative tongue- so he doesn't respond. The officer grabs his
cuffed hands, shouts something over his shoulder. Zoro digs his chin further into his chest. Please,
please ... don' put me- not back. Don't...

He's big. Zoro's mind is beyond hazy, but he knows the man is huge, knows- with his body mostly
out of his control like it is- how easily the officer could chain him back on the bed, fuck him as he
pleased.

The officer is handed something by another. And then Zoro's hands snap apart. The cuffs are still
on, but they're detached from each other and Zoro just stares.

Free. I'm ...

That's it? He drags his bleary gaze across the room again, sees no sign of Mihawk. Where'd he go?
He's gone ... and I'm-

Zoro slams his shoulder against the wall for stability, gets to his feet. Get out ... needa- 'fore he
comes back.

The officer rises with him, blocks his way to the door. Move. Please ... please. A desperate, deep
noise sounds in the back of his throat. He doesn't want to anger the man by pushing him away but
he needs to leave. Now. A large arm reaches for him and he ducks to the side, head hitting the wall
as his body moves more than intended. He has a name, doesn't know how he could've forgotten
that, and the officer shouts it at him. The arm reaches again and Zoro's reflexes are too slow with
the drugs swimming through him and there's a warm palm on his chin. "Please," he tries to say. His
mouth doesn't cooperate, and it comes out a dragged out jumble of vowels. His head is tilted up.

Muddy-red eyes look down at him, concern etched into every feature. White hair catches the light
of the sun from the window and Zoro can't move. Smoker.

Why's- he's here. Here.

Did Mihawk bring him to fuck me too? Fuck, fuck, fuck this. But he's never ... never wanted me like
that before.

Before.

Before all this.

Smoker's arms move to adjust the blanket on Zoro's shoulders and Zoro recoils.

I'm off the bed, not held down. When did that ... and Mihawk- coming back soon. Need to leave.

Smoker is still covering the path to the door.

Does he want me to ... I can be good for him. He nods to himself, and feels ever more lightheaded.
I'll be good. If I'm good he'll let me out. Won't make me wait for Mihawk to come back. Zoro tries
to drop to his knees, instead stumbles forward a step in his haste and crashes into Smoker's torso.
His breath is reedy, babbles nonsensical and low-pitched. Sorry, sorry. Don't ... I'll be good.

Smoker gently maneuvers him so he's leaning against the wall. Steps back, and the distance allows
Zoro to breathe again.

"Easy, kid. You're alright, I got you now. I got you."

Yeah, but Mihawk'll be back soon. Can't stay here. Zoro tries his voice. "Leave-" It's beyond weak,
and rough from abuse. He clears it and tries again, "Needta. Mihawk ... back- can't stay, please."

He wishes it didn't sound like the blatant begging that it is, but though his voice has partly come
back to him, he's still struggling to regain control over the rest of his body and knows he has no
chance of getting past Smoker with anything other than his words right now. Smoker opens his
mouth and Zoro puts all his focus in catching what's said.

"Mihawk won't be coming back, kid. Don't you remember? You hit-" He cuts himself off,
redirects. "Don't worry about that. We're leaving now, okay? I'm gonna take you to the hospital,
need to flush the drug out your system."

His muscles freeze at the word 'hospital', an ingrained reaction. No, no, no. No hospitals. Sir
doesn't let me, I can't-

Sir.

Sir. Where is he? Why's it feel so long since I saw him?

Smoker grabs his shoulder lightly, starts leading him out the room. Zoro tries and fails to plant his
feet. His attempt to speak goes slightly better, though his voice is still gratey and slurred, "Sir.
Where's- no hospital. Please. Sir won't-"

The man sighs, allows Zoro to grasp at his assisting arm. "Crocodile is in jail, Zoro. He's been
there for a long time." That doesn't-

How long have I been away?

"You're safe, okay? But you need to go to the hospital now." It's not a question, and everything is
too confused in Zoro's head for him to argue much more. I'm going crazy, aren't I. Everything's so
tangled. All- nothing makes sense anymore. He nods. Smoker continues leading him out of that
fucking bedroom as Zoro drifts, and when they finally make it outside, he squints his eye against
the bright sun. A cold unease claws at his back. When was the last time I was outside?

He's put into the back of an ambulance. Smoker sits next to him while an EMT takes the blanket
off his shoulders and starts bandaging up his ruined body. From feel alone, Zoro thinks most
everything will need stitches, but the EMT just places gauze. Probably at the hospital, they'll-

Hospital.

Hospital?

I can't ... Sir won't like if I-

Stop it. You just went through this in the bedroom. Smoker said it's okay. Sir's gone. Gone. Why
don't I remember him being gone?

Thoughts and drugged memories churn behind his closed eye. He opens it to give himself
something else to focus on. Finds the shiny buttons on Smoker's jacket. A steady hand holds his
throughout the ride. Tears, unbidden well up. Help me, he wants to say. I don't know what's
happening anymore.

Smoker tightens his grip. Gives him an even tighter look. "You'll be okay, I promise. We're almost
there." Zoro nods, clinging to words that he hopes are true. "You're safe now."

Safe.

Please.

He takes the IV out slowly and flicks it to the side. Presses his thumb to stop the bleeding. Swings
his legs over the sides of the small bed and stands.

Then clenches his jaw as his body erupts in pain. The hospital gown swishes with each movement
and the noise is fucking grating on his ears. He just woke up a few minutes ago, in pain and alone.
His mind is clearer than he can remember it being in a while, but he doesn't know how he got to
the hospital or why he's here- though the pain radiating through everything is probably the answer
to that second question. Need to go back to my apartment. His stomach rumbles. Fucking eat
something and go rest up and then train. Train, because aside from the pain, his body feels weak,
like he hasn't gone to the gym or gone running in a long while. He takes a few wobbled steps away
from the bed. His legs and ass fucking hurt, and he has to grab at one of the chairs beside the bed
while he breathes through it. In doing so he looks down at his arm. Almost collapses when he takes
in the bruised, patched up skin.

Mihawk.

Gauze interrupts the patches of purple and blue and he can feel stitches holding the inflamed skin
of his wrists together. He doesn't want to take an inventory of the rest of his body, but he can feel
the entirety of his front and back wrapped tight with medical tape under the gown and that reminds
him all he needs to know. He ripped you apart.
Blood pulses hard against his temples. His right elbow is sore through to his bone.

You bashed him in the head. Over and over.

Sharply, it comes back to him- the tightness of his chest when he realized his elbow was soaked in
the man's blood. He racks his brain for any memories of what happened after that but it's all
clouded. How did I end up here?

It doesn't matter right now. Figure it out later once you're back at your place. He continues
walking, every step accompanied by laborious breathing, to the door. He's only a few feet away
from it when it opens.

Smoker and Hina walk in, eyes widening when they see him.

Hina steps forward first, some type of dish in hand, apprehension evident in her movements and he
wonders if he looks as out of it as he feels. "Hun, why are you out of bed?"

"M-miss Hina," he stutters out, rough and hoarse and deepened with surprise.

"Did you take your IV out?" Smoker glances down at his arm and back up. Sighs when he sees
Zoro's downcast gaze and nervous fidgeting. "Zoro, the doctors said you need to take it easy,
alright? Let's get you back in bed." They both move toward him and Zoro springs back, hands
outstretched as much as he dares.

"Stop," he begs, words dripping from a torn throat. "Stop, please."

They halt in place.

Zoro keeps his hands out as his brain pounds against his skull. They're acting normal, like they-
They have to know how I got here. "How ... 'm here. How?"

"How much do you remember?"

No, don't do that. Don't answer my question with a question.

How much do I remember?

Mihawk had me, I think. It felt like so long but now nothing at all.

Pain, mostly. I remember pain. A constant burning in my back. Ass rarely empty. My mouth always
held open. His jaw aches something deep from it. And then I hit him. And now I'm here.

"Mihawk," he says, tensing at the name. "He ..." Used me. Fucked me till I was soaked through
with blood and cum. But he can't say that. Not in front of Hina. "I hurt him." Is what he says
instead, "Is he-?"

"He's stable, for now. Concussion and maybe a mild brain injury, but- Sorry. You shouldn't worry
about that right now."

Don't worry about it? I almost killed him. And for what? Because he fucked me like I'm made to-

Hina waves to the dish in her hand. "Why don't you have a seat, eat some food and we can talk
some more."

Maybe she'll explain how I got here, make everything less confusing. He nods, moves to sit back up
on the bed but stops, hindered by flames licking up his spine.
"You okay, hun?"

He takes a shaky breath, averts his gaze. "Ass hurts."

"Oh."

You idiot. She didn't ask if anything hurts, she told you to sit. "I mean- 'm fine." He grabs at the
sides of the bed, intends to force himself up onto it. Before he can try, there's a hand on his arm and
he can't breathe.

Smoker's hand lifts, feeling the sudden rigidity of muscle. "Zoro?" He prompts. "I was just going to
help you up, is that okay?"

Don't touch me. He wants to shake his head and scream- I'm filthy. But he's got no right telling
Smoker 'no' so he forcefully pushes the tension out his body. Nods jerkily.

The hand returns, touch lighter, more hesitant, but it helps him back into the bed. He doesn't want
to lay down, so he sits at the edge of the hospital mattress, sore legs hanging over the side.

He cradles his bandaged hands in his lap and it takes him a minute to realize Hina is holding out
the plate of food. A rushed and rough "thank you" falls from his lips. It's a deli sandwich and fruit
cup. The sandwich looks like it'll go down too heavy so he takes off the fruit cup, setting the rest of
the dish next to him. Hina watches as he pops the plastic lid off and then flicks his thumb back and
forth over the blunt edge, making no move to actually eat any of the fruit inside. "Don't you want
to eat a little? I'm sure you're hungry."

Right. He plucks out a grape and eases his sore jaw open to pop it in his mouth. Chews on it
slowly.

"Zoro-"

Smoker cuts himself off at the glare Hina shoots him. Zoro pauses where he was about to grab
another piece of fruit. Hina turns her attention over, gives him an encouraging look. "Go ahead,
hun. We're not going to talk just yet." Smoker and Hina pull chairs up a few feet away from the
bedside and sit down.

He shrugs, mumbling an "okay" and picks out another too-sweet grape.

The hospital room is silent as he finishes the cup. When he's done he sets it to the side, using an
offered napkin to wipe his hand clean. He feels small under their collective gazes. Smaller than he
has in a while. He rolls his shoulders back, making an effort to sit up straighter, but it doesn't help.

Smoker and Hina exchange a look and then Smoker asks, "Do you remember anything from the
night you were taken?"

Taken.

The word latches onto the center of his mind. Sticks itself in his lungs. Taken.

"We spoke," Hina says, tone waveringly even, "before you went to your friend's dinner. I called to
check on you. Then a few hours after, Smoker got a call from Ace saying you disappeared."

Usopp's graduation dinner. When was that? Usopp's dinner. At Mihawk's restaurant, but I didn't
know that until we got there. And then there was that waiter with the mean laugh. "Waiter- knew
me." He says, not really thinking.
Smoker leans forward. "The waiter knew you? From where?"

From when I went to Mihawk's restaurant the first time with Sir. He opens his mouth, then shuts it
again. If I tell them that, I'll need to explain the rest. Decides on saying nothing.

Smoker sighs. "Well, when he called me, Ace told me you went to the bathroom and never came
back out. That he went to check on you but you were already gone. Do you remember any of that?"

He tries to think back but nothing comes up and he shakes his head. That night feels so long ago.
He knows his friends were there for Usopp's party. Knows Law sat next to him and Ace on his
other side. And there's the sound of the waiter's laugh echoing in his mind. But he can't remember
much else. It feels like so much time, and yet none at all has passed since then.

They steal another glance and it's Hina who speaks this time. She sounds in pain when she says,
"Zoro ... you were gone for almost three weeks. We didn't know if we'd ever see you again."

He stares unseeing at the floor. Three weeks. A breath shutters its way out of his lungs. Mihawk
had me for three weeks.

Was it really so long?

If I hadn't ... he would've never let me leave. If I didn't- "I hurt him," he says again, voice a low
murmur. Three weeks. "How'd ... get here?" He voices again, the thought that has been bothering
him since he first regained consciousness.

"You're here because we found you. Though the only reason we did was because a woman called
the police to do a house check. Said she had been visiting Mihawk's house for a consult on her
bartending services when she needed to use the bathroom. She found the bedroom instead- you
instead." The pink-haired woman. Perona. I didn't imagine her? "If it wasn't for her ... if she hadn't
called-" Smoker shakes his head. Hina takes up his hand and he continues, "We didn't- there were
no cameras in the restaurant near the bathroom so we had no idea where you went or with who.
And Mihawk was helpful when officers came by him for the investigation, I mean- we had no
reason to believe he was a suspect. I still don't understand why."

The statement is more of a question than anything so Zoro points to his chest. He wanted me back.
Smoker's brows furrow, confused at the response. "I- What's wrong, does something hurt?"

Zoro shakes his head, lowering his gaze further, and drags a line down his chest diagonally,
overlapping the covered scar that Smoker knows well is there.

"Your scar. What about it?"

Hina looks between them out the corner of his eye. She must be confused- she's never seen him
fully, not the way Smoker has.

His shoulder twinges as he repeats the motion across his torso, mouth unwilling to work to voice
the words.

"Kid, what are you telling me right now." His voice is hard but it shakes in the slightest. He thinks
Smoker might already know.

"From him."

"Your ..." Smoker points to Zoro's chest. He takes a deep breath. Hina squeezes his hand tighter,
unsure of what's going on, but still a support. "He gave you that?"
Zoro bunches the material of his gown into tight fists. Nods.

Smoker makes a punched-out sound. "But that was ... that was months ago. Before I even met you
again you got it."

And he knows Hina will hear, but Smoker is looking for an explanation, so still, he shrugs and
says, "Fucked him before."

The man springs to his feet.

Zoro flinches, scrambling back on the bed, his whole body lighting up in a cold burning as he
moves. He bites his tongue to stop from making a sound.

Smoker turns away, ignoring Hina's outstretched arm to get him to sit back down. Zoro watches his
shoulders heave up and down.

He feels small, so small. But he forces himself to stay broad and upright, no matter how much he
wants to sink into the mattress and imagine he hadn't spoken just now. He already knew you're a
slut, why'd you have to remind him? Why'd you have to go and tell him about Mihawk? He'll think
you wanted it now, wanted to be taken and used. Thoughts unstable, and eyes not leaving Smoker's
wide back, he finds himself rushing to explain, "Didn't- didn't want to, please. I promise." His
breathing is coming in fast, too fast, though he's only distantly aware of it. "I was good, but ... first
time, only. Had to. Had to. Sir made ... had to, to fight again. Wasn't good- him this time," he
swears. "Fought, I fought. Please." He swipes away the wetness in his eye.

"Zoro." Smoker chokes out, back still turned.

Hina stands and hovers between them.

"You didn't tell me. You never told me."

A stream of apologies fly off his bleeding tongue.

"No, I- it's my fault. Not yours. I should've known. I should've-" Zoro's never heard the man so
close to tears. He takes a deep breath and blows it out slow. His shoulders shake on the exhale. He
turns around, something like realization on his face. "He was talking to you, that day at the
precinct. You got lost and I found the asshole talking to you, but you refused to tell me what he
said."

It doesn't matter anymore. Please, don't make me say anything else in front of Hina.

"I knew he was a piece of shit, but I didn't know- and Crocodile made you ...?"

Zoro nods.

The man swears a storm under his breath. He steps forward and Zoro's eye finds his two. "I'm
sorry, kid. He had you for so long and I never even suspected him. I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head. It's not your fault. I should've never went back to that restaurant. Don't
apologize for anything. You're the one that found me. "You found me." And Zoro remembers, like
a blurry dream, the ambulance ride over. The hand that never left his and the three words that were
said on repeat. You're safe now. "Safe- you said. 'M safe now, because you."

Smoker's expression crumples. "Yeah, yeah you're safe." He strides forward and wraps Zoro in his
large arms. Zoro uses every ounce of his energy to not tense up. "I'm so lucky we found you. So
glad you're okay."

Thank you. Thank you for finding me. Thank you both for everything.

He's made to stay at the hospital for two whole fucking days. Smoker picks him up the morning
he's discharged and then refuses to take him to his own apartment. "Hin already ordered enough
lunch for the three of us," is what he says when Zoro tries to argue, and that is the end of that.

The car ride is quiet. Nothing but the humming of the heat and the sounds of morning traffic to be
heard.

Zoro's hands haven't stopped shaking since yesterday.

"I called Luffy."

Zoro nods, head facing out the window. They had talked about this his first day at the hospital.
Since Zoro's phone was gone- courtesy of Mihawk- he agreed on letting Smoker update his friends
that he was good and safe now.

"He's okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine, the little shit. Was just real worried about you, but I told him you weren't up for
seeing anyone." Another thing they had talked about. After Smoker told him how his friends
reacted when they realized he was missing, he felt immensely guilty. Still, he knew he looks like a
mess and hadn't wanted to see anyone he didn't have to while he's healing. "He said he'll let
everyone know you're alright, so I'm sure me and Hin can be expecting a few more calls from
them."

"Thank you." He shoves his hands under his thighs. His heel drums a steady rhythm into the floor
of the car.

"Here we are," Smoker pulls into the underground parking of his apartment building. Jumps out
and opens the door for Zoro, hand held out for assistance.

Zoro's cheeks redden. "I got it."

He sighs. "Come on, kid."

Zoro takes the offered hand. Has to resist the urge to shrink away from the warm touch. The nurse
had let him shower at the hospital before redressing his wounds for the last time but he still feels
dirty. Still feels that itch under his skin. Memories of what was done to him- what he was made to
do- when he wasn't drugged, unable to leave his mind. Slowly he climbs out of the car and they
walk to the elevator, taking it up to Smoker and Hina's apartment. Every step hurts, sends a pain up
through his legs and back. Smoker unlocks the apartment door and the smell of food hits him hard.
He doesn't protest as he's led over to the table, where Hina has already set out dishes for them.
They join him at the table. He thanks them both and digs in.

It's the best he's eaten in weeks. After he finishes his plate, Hina tries to insist on putting him
seconds, but he's already full. He helps clean up, limping around the kitchen before Hina shooes
him over to the couch. "Thank you," he says again. The food has settled warm in his stomach and
it's nice not being alone. Smoker joins him on the couch. Flips to some random channel on the tv.

Some minutes pass. Hina settles into one of the armchairs with her laptop, working on something
for her job that she explains when Smoker asks but mostly goes over Zoro's head. "Kid?"

Zoro looks up at him.

"You okay?" He grabs one of Zoro's shaking hands.

Zoro nods. He just feels restless. Restless and weak. I should go to the gym. "Could I ...?"

"What is it?"

His hand spasms. Smoker lets go. "Can ... go train? Please." He needs a fucking distraction that's
not sitting and watching a tv program he can barely understand. Not to mention he's been away
from the gym for so long. Hasn't felt this frail since he was little.

Smoker and Hina look at each other.

He scratches at the gauze wrapped around his wrists.

"We ... the doctor said you shouldn't overwork yourself too soon, hun."

"Won't," he promises. "Just needa stop-" Stop feeling. Stop thinking and remembering all the shit
he did to me. Fucking three weeks. "'ll go easy."

Another look is traded.

"Can't you go tomorrow? We were just gonna keep an eye on you today, make sure you're alright.
You know what they said about the withdrawal."

He knows. The doctor explained it to him in front of Smoker using big words that he didn't get, but
he knows the gist anyway- his body got used to the drug water and now that it doesn't have it, he's
got the shakes. He's had to deal with them before, a handful of times with Sir. Though the
experiences never taught him how to handle the twitching.

The gym has always helped before. "Please?" They wanna keep an eye on you. "Can ... your gym?"
He's used the facility only once before. It's a small place, sparse on machines and heavier weights,
but it'll get the job done for now.

"You'd be fine working out in our apartment's gym?"

Zoro shrugs. Just need to move around, ease myself back into things. I can do that at any gym.

"Alright, I'll bring my work and sit with you." Hina shuts her laptop and stands.

Zoro stands with her, though his is a slower process. "Thank you." He's already dressed in the
sweats Smoker brought him for when he was discharged. He grabs two closed bottles of water
from the case in the kitchen, hands one to Hina who's at the door.

"Don't be too long?"

"Won't." He bows his head slightly to Smoker, thanks him and follows Hina out. They make their
way down to the ground-floor apartment gym. It's blessedly empty. Hina settles herself criss-
crossed against one of the walls, computer in her lap.

He doesn't have his jump rope with him or any equipment so he warms up on the treadmill.
Starting out, his aches are all ever present, but as he reaches five minutes and then ten, they ease
into the background along with the shakes. His mind starts to feel like his again.

Hina eyes him as he pants heavily and steps off. He's more gassed than he thought he'd be, but he's
starting to feel better and that overshadows everything else. He runs one of his more basic
calisthenics circuits. Lets the time slip from his awareness as he falls into the motions. I missed
this so much.

He does some kettlebell work, a little shadowboxing and footwork- finds his balance surprisingly
on point- and then runs the circuit again.

"Hun, it's your rubbery friend."

Zoro pauses in his set of pull-ups to glance over at Hina. She just shrugs, pointing to the brightly-lit
phone next to her as she types on her computer. Zoro hops down off the bar and crosses the small
space. "Sorry," he apologizes as he crouches in front of her, knows he's definitely not smelling the
freshest this close to the end of his first workout back. She doesn't react to his sweaty approach
past a hum.

"Well?" She slides her phone toward him across the floor.

Zoro stares down at it. Reaches. Then retracts his hand. "Smoker already ...?"

"Yeah," she pushes her glasses off her nose and up to rest on her head. "He talked to him and told
him you're alright and resting," she gives him a pointed look. "But he's your friend, and he was
worried about you which means he probably wants to see you as soon as he can now that he knows
you're safe."

Fuck, I know. He stands, "Should finish."

"Zoro," her voice is warning. He turns back to face her. "I won't force you to do anything, or insist
that you let them come see you. But at least talk to them. They were scared- we all were- I think it
would give them some peace of mind."

"Sorry," he says, because he knows she's right. "After I finish?"

"Sure, you mind if I answer and let him know that?"

Zoro shakes his head, makes a vague whatever you want to do gesture, and walks back over to the
pull-up bar. His mind is less focused than it was as he finishes up his workout, but the burning of
muscles in his arms and legs makes him feel like he's floating. He stretches out on one of the mats
in the corner, ignoring- as he has this whole workout- the pull of wounds on his back and legs, the
aching bruises on his skin. His energy is high as he stands, breathing deeply, and it keeps the
shaking away.

"'M done," he calls over to Hina, and thanks her for her company.
 She nods, "You really amaze me, hun. I don't know how you're still able to do what you just did.
Doesn't it-" She cuts herself off. "I mean, you didn't do too much, did you?"

"No, feels good. Promise," he says, in the face of her skeptical look. And he's really not lying. His
blood feels light and it pumps easily through his veins, a stark contrast to the sluggishness he had
gotten used to the past few weeks. He's positively dripping with sweat, and more out of breath than
he should be for such a simple workout, but he feels bright despite it all. This is something and
something is anything and anything is more than what you were able to do chained to that fucking
bed.

Bruises and cuts is all that's left. You're fine. Things can get back to the way they were before.

He helps Hina stand up and she hands him her phone once she's on her feet. "Call him back?"

Zoro's lungs expand, ribs pressing painfully against his chest with the deep breath he takes. He
nods. Accepts the phone.

Chapter End Notes

man i started writing this chapter and was gonna stop it wayyy earlier but then i just
couldnt stop adding to it- so hey, we got a little bit of hope at the end- zoros gonna be
going through it the next few chapters dealing with the aftermath of everything tho

definitely another rollercoaster of a chapter, idk how the first few scenes came across
bc zoro was there for 2 and a half weeks, but i just wrote some of when he was sober
even though most of the shit he went through he was drugged up, anywayyy did that
ramble even make any sense? hope yall enjoyed it- we'll probably see more protective
smoker&hina next chapter and ofc the strawhats and luffy

wont make too long of an endnote but i have so Many Feelings ! about this chapter, so
please yell at me in the comments about anything and everything
 wishing for the sun of your smile (this earthquake is kicking my ass)
Chapter Summary

withdrawal kicks zoros ass for a hot minute ft. some strawhats, hella angst, and a lil
plot

Chapter Notes

tw for negative thoughts but otherwise enjoy <3

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The subway car he gets on is empty. Flickering lights that line the tunnels catch his attention,
passing by in a blur as the rattling subway speeds over its tracks.

His thoughts blur along with them. Stop after stop goes by.

Smoker and Hina had made him stay the night at their apartment. They left for work in the
morning and he went to the diner to see if he still had a job. Remarkably, he does. Jessica said she
wasn't able to hire someone to fill the shift while he was gone. And Hina had called the owner to
tell him it wasn't Zoro's ... choice- to skip work these past weeks. He's on the schedule for tonight
and can hardly believe it. I thought for sure I'd be out of a job today, have to look for someplace
new.

Having finished with that, he's now on the way to his apartment.

His eye wanders out the window as the car slows to another stop. That word looks familiar, he
thinks, eyeing the repeated blocky letters on the concrete columns as the subway sits idle. The car
lurches again, almost ready to leave the- Stop. My stop, shit. He rushes out the doors right before
they close. The train quickly gains speed behind him, sound rumbling off the walls, as it pulls
forward on to the next stop. He walks to the escalator and takes it up to street level. It's cold out.
He pulls the jacket tighter around himself and hurries down the street toward his building. The
elevator seems to have been fixed in his time away so he takes it up to his floor.

His apartment is as he left it.

Dark and empty.

He opens up the blinds and cracks the window a tiniest bit to let some fresh air in without flooding
the room in cold. There's a smell of something no good coming from the kitchenette area. Taking a
garbage bag from under the sink, he empties out all the spoiled food in his fridge. Shit. What a
fucking waste. He leaves the bag by the door when he's done, then he packs up his gym bag-
stuffing his work clothes in there for good measure- and walks out. He's just locking the door
behind himself when something latches onto his upper leg.
"Zoro!"

He glances down at the boy currently hugging his side. " Oi," he softens. "Chopper."

"Where've you been?" Chopper mumbles into his stomach. The boy's twiggy arms drop after a long
squeeze. Zoro takes a step back in the resulting distance, not wanting to offend the ten-year old but
also unable to ignore the crawling sensation that burns against his skin where Chopper hugged
him. Don't touch me, you'll get dirty.

He realizes the kid has asked him something when he takes in the wide brown eyes, staring up at
him expectantly. Shit. He shrugs at whatever the question was.

It's late for Chopper to still be home. Around 10am last time he checked, but his little neighbor is
normally off to school way earlier in the morning. It's how he met the kid in the first place- coming
straight back to his apartment after an overnight shift, and Chopper had just been leaving for school
with his-

"Miss Kureha?"

Chopper winces a little at his voice. Zoro squeezes shaking arms behind his back. "Oh, she woke
up late! But she said she's still taking me to school even if it's a few hours in. I really wanted to go
to the field museum today though- there's free tickets for the public!"

Zoro nods.

Chopper adjusts the comically large school bag on his shoulders and stage-whispers to him, "I
think she might be taking me after school, though she won't confirm yes or no with me." The kid's
excitement is barely contained, Zoro can tell he really wants to go to this ... field museum? I don't
think I've heard of that before. It must be a fun place for kids, maybe like an arcade or playground
or something. "What are you doing today, Zoro?"

He shrugs. Gestures to his gym bag.

"Oooh, that's fun! Could you teach me how to box sometime? Just a little bit- Doctorine says I
'need to be able to protect myself' because I'm so much smaller than other kids my age."

"Uh, yeah- can ... show how."

Chopper beams. Zoro has no clue what to do in the face of his innocence.

"Chopper, leave the man alone."

The bright smile flips, "But, Doctorine," he whines, "I was just asking him to teach me some
boxing."

Kureha turns around from locking the door to their apartment two doors down. "He's a busy man,
I'm sure he doesn't-"

"Anytime," he interrupts. Apologizes for interrupting. Kureha raises an eyebrow as she approaches.
Zoro bows his head slightly, "Miss Kureha."

The older woman sighs. "Zoro." She settles a hand on Chopper's hat. "Well, we need to be going.
You can talk with him another time, okay?"

Chopper pouts, "Okay."

Her attention turns to him again, "How much do you charge?"

He stumbles back a step, surprised. "For ..."

"Boxing lessons," she deadpans.

Right. Of course.

"Don't." He's never really taught anyone how to box, but he definitely wouldn't charge to teach
Chopper a few things.

"I might take you up on that offer later then, if you're serious about it."

Zoro shrugs, nodding.

A few shouts of joy are made by Chopper who's quickly hushed by Kureha. "Not so loud. Let's go
before I get a call from the school."

Chopper quiets a little, waving to Zoro as they walk down the hall. Zoro watches them leave. Then
the hallway is empty again and he glances at his door. Right. You were leaving too, dumbass. He
takes the elevator down and goes back to the subway, taking it out to the gym. He walks in,
breathes in the familiar smell that he never thought he'd miss so fucking much.

He knows he's still far from recovered, so like yesterday, he resolves to take it easy. The gym is
thankfully pretty empty. He changes in the lockerroom and grabs his wraps, bands, and jumprope
before heading for his corner in the back. A few minutes of warming up with the rope. Then he
stretches and moves about with the resistance band.

His muscles are sore and they scream at him endlessly. So do his stitched up wounds. You're
barely fucking holding together.

How could you let someone do this to you? How could you let him do this to you?

Three weeks.

He used you. Kept you fucked out and drugged up and you let him.

Stop. I don't wanna think about it.

He takes up his wraps. Starts winding the cloth around his left hand but there's an earthquake in his
right and he can't fucking keep it still. The cloth shakes violently in his grip.

You don't want to think about it but how can you forget? It feels like his fucking skin is still against
you.

He crushes the fabric in his fist.

And you can't even remember everything. You remember what he did to you when you were sober,
but rarely were you left sober. What did he do to you when you were drugged? What did he say. It
kills you, doesn't it? It's been killing you. That all you can feel is the aftermath.

He digs his fingers into his right forearm. It doesn't subdue the shaking. Wrap my hands. Just
wanna wrap my hands, hop on the bag. Everything'll be better when I hop on the bag. He attempts
to wind the cloth again. Gets a few times around before his fingers spasm and he drops the roll.
Fuck. Fuck, just-
But that's not the worst part, is it?

Shut up. I'm not doing this right now.

He undoes the loose wrapping, lets it fall to the floor. Shadowbox, I'll just shadowbox. Zoro stands
on unsteady legs. He jumps around a little and starts easy, throwing 1s and 2s to the imaginary
opponent in front of him. Slowly he incorporates blocks and parries, with combos and
counterpunches. The deep wounds on his back pull painfully with every duck and twist. And still
he's not able to clear his fucking head. Focus. I need to forget about it. It's in the past already.

At least I can still fight. Can still train my way back to how I was- train so that I'm better than I
was. He didn't take that away from me.

But he took something else, didn't he? That's what's bothering you so much. That's what's worse.

Stop it. Focus.

Worse, is that before him, the last person you had sex with was Crocodile. And he took that away
from you.

Zoro's arms start shaking so goddamn bad he can't even throw a punch. He leans against the
nearest wall, folding in half. Twists trembling fingers into his hair.

I don't care about that. I can't-

It happened. It's done with. And I can't do this right now.

His breath is coming out in desperate pants. He straightens up, forces large gulps of air into his
lungs. I'm gonna be okay. I have to be. After a few minutes his breathing settles.

Head heavy and surrounded by cotton. Chest an empty cavern where his heart feels like it's been
punched out.

You'll be okay.

He pushes himself off the wall. Just get through this workout. The shakes haven't left him so he
decides to run on the treadmill. Thirty minutes go by and his breathing is labored now, but
controlled. It's easier to force his mind closed as the miles pass.

When he hops off the treadmill his legs wobble. He catches himself and sips at his water as he
makes his way back to the corner. Pushups are hard with his arms still shaking but not impossible
so he does a few sets. He leans back on his knees when he's done, head toward the ceiling, and
feels sweat sliding down his neck, soaking into bloody bandages under his clothes.

His head is buzzing in its emptiness.

"Zoro?"

He jolts, neck snapping down to find- Jinbe. Shit. I'm a mess right now.

"How's it going? Been a minute since I saw you here."

Tongue shock-glued to the roof of his mouth, he doesn't think he could open his jaw if he tried. He
manages a nod. Catches Jinbe eyeing his shaking hands and quickly shoves them into the front
pocket of his sweatshirt.
"You finishing up?"

He nods.

"Well, if you want to spar, I get off in a few."

Zoro tries for a no, thank you but the words get caught in his throat. So he shakes his head.

Jinbe nods, "No worries," and walks around the small area, cleaning up weights and equipment left
behind by other gym-goers. "You haven't been by Franky's either, I hear. He said he had something
to talk to you about." The sentence takes a while to process.

Franky. Wants to talk.

He doesn't even try to work his vocal chords this time, hopes Jinbe gets the message of his thanks
through his small nod. I'll stop by Franky tomorrow and see what's up. The weight of Jinbe's kind
gaze settles on his bruised face and battered neck. "You sure you're alright?"

Sorry, he wants to say. I'm fine. But it feels too much of a lie. He shrugs instead, body trembling
with the movement.

"Well, you let me know if you need anything."

For a second he debates asking the man to help him with his wraps. Stop it. Don't bother him. Plus
you can't even hold your hands still enough for him to put them on for you.

He finishes tidying up, seemingly unbothered at Zoro's lack of response. "I'll see you on your way
out, okay?"

Zoro is lost as he watches the man walk away. Once Jinbe is of his eyesight, he drops his head,
digs twitching fingers into his thighs. Fuck, what the fuck is wrong with me?

Get it together.

He stands, breathing in deep through the nose and taking time to breathe out all his tangled
emotions on the exhale. His arms raise and he takes up his stance. Just try it again. A few rounds
and then you can leave. The second attempt at shadowboxing goes considerably better with his
focus mostly there. By the end of five rounds he's sweating buckets and definitely bleeding in a
few places.

The buzz in his ears has spread down to his toes.

He feels fucking unstable.

His body tolerates some stretching before it doesn't and he scoops up his equipment, grabbing his
bag from the lockerroom. He offers Jinbe a small wave on his way out. You're fine, he thinks, in
face of the numbness that has overtaken his skin. You'll be okay.

The walk to Smoker's apartment is long and cold. He'd go back to his own but Smoker specifically
told him before leaving this morning to spend another day with them.

Halfway through, he wonders why he decided to walk. The negative thoughts threatening to drown
him in their flood are quick to remind him. He focuses on the cold breeze biting at his cheeks
instead. The birds on the sidewalk that scatter into the air at every too loud car honk.

He uses his spare to get in. The couch looks comfier than ever, but he's also hungry from his
workout so he raids the kitchen cabinets. Finds some protein bars and scarfs down three. Each
passing moment saps his energy, and he's still hungry but he's more tired than anything so he
throws out the wrappers and crashes onto the couch. There's just enough presence of mind left for
him to recognize that he's still bleeding from earlier, but not enough to do anything about it. His
eye closes.

He flinches awake, hard.

His eyelid isn't too heavy when he blinks which means he must've gotten at least a couple hours of
sleep. The room he's in is dark.

Hunger growls his stomach. His skin is itchy.

He shifts on the- couch. Why am I on the couch? Feels a certain pull in his muscles that he knows
too well. His jaw is properly sore. Phantom hands press into his head, pressure against an
oncoming headache.

Fuck, I could definitely use a break from the backrooms.

Thinking too hard only hurts his head more but he can't remember if Sir even has him working the
back tonight. He hopes not, anyway- pain a dull constant, slugging through his body.

He stumbles to a stand off the couch, not bothering to flick the lights on as he makes his way to the
kitchen. The apartment is quiet and inky and something's just the slightest bit off but he can't place
it.

The clock on the stove blinks at him, a blurry time just after five. Should make dinner for when Sir
gets back.

A quick rummage through the freezer reveals a few bags of seafood but nothing else. Guess I could
make frutti di mare- it's one of Sir's favorites anyway. But I'll definitely have to go grocery
shopping tomorrow. He sets the shrimp to defrost in a bowl, then grabs a pot from an out of place
cabinet and starts boiling water.

Nothing is where he expects it to be, as though someone came and reorganized the cabinets without
telling him. It takes him a solid minute just to find where the salt is. He flips the light above the
stove on and adds some to the pot of water. Watches bubbles slowly form at the bottom before
rising.

Soon enough the water is brought to a rapid boil. He steps closer to the stove, the rising steam and
sound of rolling water like a cool balm to his muddled head.

A few minutes pass.

He blinks slowly, his head tilting as he looks at the water. The bubbling is quieter now and he
realizes he's been standing still the whole time. You're cooking. You need to add the pasta and start
on the sauce. Right. He's just searching through the cabinets for pasta when he hears keys at the
door. It opens from behind him and his throat hurts but he still calls out an easy, "Hi, Sir." He
finally opens the right cabinet and pulls out a pack of fettuccini.

Then he registers the lack of response. Maybe it's Daz? Or Mr. 3, shit. Or maybe it is Sir, but he's
pissed because it's winter and you're forgetting to take his coat you fucking-
"Sorry, Sir, 'm coming," he says, more for his own rising anxiety than anything. He straightens up
quickly, putting the pasta on the counter and snaps to face the door.

Light from the hallway spills into the dim apartment. It illuminates the large figure in the doorway
that Zoro sees and knows but struggles to process because-

"Kid?"

He steps back. The kitchen counter digs into his hamstrings.

"Zoro? I'm just going to turn the lights on, alright?"

Smoker.

Smoker.

What is he doing here?

The lights flick on. If his reality were a mirror it would be shattering in front of him.

"Zoro."

I thought I was home. Waiting for Sir, making dinner for us, I thought-

He grasps, desperate, for the counter behind him. Fingers clench until they're aching, but he needs
something, anything, to ground himself.

"Easy, hey." Smoker stands a foot away. "Are you okay?"

I don't know. I don't know. A second ago I was-

"Do you know where you are?"

He nods jerkily.

"Okay, what's going on." Smoker is close, too fucking close.

"Thought- was-" he growls at his own inability to speak.

A hand settles on his shoulder. "Breathe, don't rush yourself."

Zoro rolls out of the touch, clutching at the fabric over his shoulders like he can tear off the
lingering warmth of Smoker's hand. "Lost," he stutters out. And he doesn't know how it happened,
but he knows-

I got lost.

"Okay," Smoker nods a few times, a gesture of self-comfort. "Okay, you're alright. You're here,
you're safe."

I was safe there too. He could cry. Because he hadn't felt so calm in days- waking up and thinking
he was in their apartment. Thinking Sir would be back soon.

His hands hadn't shaken once.

The shakes are back full-force now, arms jittery where they cross over his chest.
"You ... you're bleeding." Smoker's hand reaches out again, just shy of splaying over the red-
stained bandage wrapped around the base of his neck. Fuck. "What happened?"

"Gym," he says, and flinches at Smoker's disappointed tut.

"Is the rest like this?" He waves to Zoro's covered body.

Zoro pauses. Nods, finally recognizing the itchiness he's been feeling on his torso and back as dried
blood.

"Fuck. You're supposed to take it easy for a few weeks, you know that." Sighing, he steps out of
his space. Zoro can breathe again. "It's okay, alright? Just go take your bandages off and shower."

No. And he flinches as though he said the thought aloud. You can't tell him no, idiot.

But I don't wanna take them off- I'll just have to put them on again, and my hands aren't working
good and I can't reach right. Especially not to do the ones on my back.

He just wants you to be clean. It's his apartment- you thought you were back but you're not. And he
doesn't want you walking around sweaty and bloody.

Dirty. You've always been so-

"I'll help you wrap them up again, don't worry."

He watches Smoker turn off the stove and settles on, "Okay," knowing he has no other choice.
Walks to the bathroom and shuts the door behind himself. He takes off his clothes. There's a
wetness on the inside of his hoodie from where blood had seeped through the bandages. Said
bandages pile up in the wastebasket as he peels them off his skin.

The shower water is hot and it runs pink as he scrubs lightly over inflamed, scabbing wounds. He
stands under the spray until it turns mostly clear again, then shuts it off and steps out. All the
towels are white and he doesn't want to stain them red so he doesn't dry himself off. Rivulets of
blood and water run down his body and he can hardly tell the difference.

He doesn't want to call Smoker in. Logically, he knows the man has seen him at his worst, seen
him stripped bare and out of it, but still- to willingly call him in is a different thing entirely. He
knows what you are and still lets you around. It makes no difference if he sees.

After a minute or so of standing in place and feeling extremely out of place, he looks up at himself
in the foggy-edged mirror. Watches in a daze as his body trembles, completely out of his control.
With each second the fog dissipates and he's left with an ever clearer image of the damage done to
him.

Stop it. You're still a fighter, what he did doesn't define you.

And yet he can't help but stare at the bruised rings and bleeding cuts around his neck and wrists,
the valleys of wounds striping up and across his chest and down the entirety of his backside.
Aching fingers find his hips. His thumbs brushing over the purple, hand-shaped bruises on each
side. They feel like a claim and desperately he wishes to carve the deeply branded marks out.
You're making it worse. Stop looking.

"Zoro, you done in there?" Smoker's voice calls from past the door.

He tears his gaze away from the mirror. You're naked. "Y-yeah," his voice cracks on the word.
"Clothes."

"One sec." A minute of quiet and then a shuffling sound. "Alright, I'm gonna hand them to you,
open up a little." He walks to the door and opens it just enough to grab the pile of clothes from
Smoker's hand. He sets the clothes on the floor- a t-shirt, sweats and underwear. The boxers are all
he puts on for now and then he calls Smoker's name softly.

"I can come in?"

He hums.

The door opens from behind him and Smoker walks in, shutting the door behind himself.

There's a few seconds of echoing silence.

"Zoro," a tangible tension holds up the broken call of his name.

He keeps his head down. Hears Smoker take a step toward him.

"Are- is it ..."

"'M fine," he says. Smoker's burning gaze doesn't move off his back. "Bandages?"

Smoker snaps himself out of it after a second. "Bandages. Bandages, right." He fiddles around in
one of the cabinets until he's gathered an armful of supplies. Breathes out sharply. "Okay. Where's
more comfortable for you?"

Wherever you want me.

"How 'bout against the counter," he suggests, when he finds Zoro isn't keen to respond.

Zoro nods. Crosses the small space until he's leaned over slightly, hands bracing the countertop.

Smoker shuffles forward. "Just going to wipe off the fresh blood and then I'll get started, okay?"

He nods again, then lets his head hang down between his shoulders.

A wet cloth runs lightly over his back.

His mind has already left his body.

It hovers in the corner of the room- just close enough to be able to respond if Smoker needs
something and just far enough away where any pain he feels is no more than a light sting. He
settles. The routine of getting cleaned up is one he's more than used to.

Smoker's words float around the space. He voices constantly what he's about to do before he does
it, and waits patiently for a head tilt to give him the go ahead. It confuses Zoro like nothing else,
keeps him tethered to the room when all he wants to do is hide away.

Then Hina's voice calls from past the door, "Boys, you home?"

Smoker's hands don't pause in their motions. Cleaning and bandaging him up, diligent and
efficient, even as Zoro pitches forward. His grip tightens around the sink counter. Fuck, she can't
see me like this.

She knows Mihawk had me but she doesn't know all the shit I let him do to me.
"It's okay," Smoker soothes, voice low just for him to hear, "She's doesn't have to see anything."
Then, louder, "We'll be right out, Hin. Just helping Zoro with his bandages a minute."

"Okay, take your time. I'll set the table- brought us some dinner."

Smoker doesn't call out again, wrapping a thin bandage roll around taped down patches of gauze as
a second layer and to hold everything in place. There's a tremor in Smoker's hands as he finishes
up- has been there since the minute he touched Zoro's torn up body. It directly opposes his
carefully neutral tone, "How does everything feel?"

He's numb. The cold of the bathroom has settled as a blanket over his heated skin. "Thank you."

A pause.

"Is it-" Shut up.

Leave it at your thanks.

"Go ahead."

He clutches at his bandaged arms. "Bad ... isn't it?"

I was already so ugly before. How must I look now?

Smoker takes a deep, shuddering breath. A long pause fills the space between them. "You'll
recover from this, don't worry."

That's not- He bites his shaking bottom lip. The inflamed truth of his pain is restless under fresh
bandages. Soreness in his neck has been haunting him for days.

"It isn't ... it isn't the best. But, it'll heal. What matters is that you're safe now."

Safe now.

Safe now and unable to get through even a light workout without having a breakdown. Unable to
get these shot fucking memories out of my head.

"Safe," he repeats after him, voice quiet.

"And I will do everything in my power to make sure it stays that way." The pure conviction leaves
Zoro breathless. He still thinks you're worth protecting. He hands Zoro the clothes off the floor.
Zoro turns around and takes them. Sees- despite his unaffected tone- the pain written on Smoker's
face as plain as day.

It's enough that he ignores the blinding discomfort of touching someone else in favor of letting
their hands brush for a moment. The anguish creasing Smoker's forehead lessens- his whole body
softens at the contact. "Thanks, kid."

A nod of acknowledgement.

Smoker avoids looking at his bandaged body and Zoro can feel the man's control starting to slip.
Hands twitching like he wants a cigar. "I- I'll just ... you're good. I just need a minute, okay?" Zoro
barely nods before the man disappears behind his bedroom door. It shutters when it closes.

Zoro slips on the t-shirt and sweatpants and walks out to the living room.
He spots Hina smoking on the couch.

She looks up, curious, when Smoker isn't right behind him.

"He's-" It's your fault. Zoro wrings his hands behind his back. "Upset." He nods in the direction of
the shut door. Hina is on her feet instantly, crossing the space in a few strides. She fixes him with a
worried look and slips into the bedroom.

Zoro finds his seat on the couch.

The smell of good food hits him, stomach grumbling and he remembers he hasn't eaten since
before his nap. The table is all set and he stares at it as he waits. Muffled voice rise and fall like
waves from past the bathroom door. Smoker and Hina emerge after some time. Smoker's eyes are
ringed red, hair a slight mess atop his head. You did that to him. With nothing more than the sight
of you.

Hina sits down at the table.

"You could've started eating, Zoro."

He meets Smoker's muddy eyes. "Sorry."

The man gives him a small, tired attempt at a smile and Zoro quickly looks away.

"Well, come on," Hina gestures him over, tone bright to lighten the air. "I'm sure you're hungry and
this food won't eat itself."

He nods, places himself in the chair between them and digs in.

"I think that's enough for today. Why don't we go get some coffee or something, yeah?"

Responding is a function that a person does and he's hardly one right now.

More, a raw nerve that's been poked at too many times. There's a burning under his skin that's
flaying him alive. He's had his chest sliced open before but even that pales in comparison to
pounding thoughts that cleave his head into two. And yet, under it all, an ever-deepening
numbness.

Coby excuses himself off the desk, leaving them with each other. Smoker waits patient, towering
next to him. The commotion of the police station almost drowns out his prompt of, "Zoro?"

He says nothing. If he wasn't breathing so bodily, he'd think his lips to be glued shut.

"I know it was a lot. You feeling alright?"

Zoro flinches when the man goes to grab at his twitching hands. It's nearing noon last he checked,
which means he's been at the police station for almost five hours now. Five hours of talking and
recounting and remembering. The tremors have gotten worse with each passing one.
Smoker sighs and Zoro curls further in on himself. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Just answer. He won't go anywhere unless you answer. "Ok," he tries. The word sounds just as
unsteady as he is, spoken from overworked vocal chords.

Zoro stands with the help of the chair's arms and follows Smoker, weaving through desks and
people standing about until they get to the elevator. The office sounds are farther here, ringing
phono lines and hurried conversations all muffled in the background. Smoker calls the elevator and
steps back, stands by Zoro's side as they wait. He watches the numbers go up and up and up in a
kind of daze.

The elevator dings. He follows Smoker into the crowded box, shoving himself into the corner
where he won't have to deal with anyone brushing against him and waits until it spits them out at
the ground floor. The entrance of the station is bustling and alive. Smoker walks them over to the
large exits. "There's a nice cafe just down the street, if you're up for it."

Zoro's shoulder lifts, an attempted shrug.

"Right." And he walks outside. They're hit with a chilled breeze. Smoker quickly does up his
winter jacket, then looks to Zoro. Sees his hands fumble repeatedly with the zipper. "Can I?"

He nods and Smoker is quick to hold the sides together and zip it up to below Zoro's chin. He's a
little drained and a lot out of it so he sticks close to Smoker as they walk about a block. The door to
the cafe dings when it opens. It's warm inside, smells of sweet caramel and fresh pastries. Smoker
grabs them a table near the windows and Zoro just manages not to wince when he sits down. His
headache has yet to leave him the fuck alone. Each dull beat against his skull has his stomach
turning, pushing nausea up his throat. Stop it. Breathe. He does. Closes his eye. Taking in the
calming scents floating around once more.

It's over. You'll never have to talk about any of it again.

"What do you want to drink? I'll go order us something."

The words are said too close, in a too loud voice, and Zoro can't process them. He grips at the
throbbing pressure in his head.

"Zoro?" Smoker asks, voice deep but softer now, easier to understand. "I'm going to order us
drinks."

He nods, or tries for one, anyway. Hears Smoker walk away. Get a hold of yourself. He opens his
eye, lowering his hand to his lap. You're gonna be just fine. And yet the thought does nothing to
ease the pain at his temples.

"Here we go," Smoker sets two cups down on the table and takes his seat across from Zoro.
Smoker sips at his- coffee by the smell of it. "Try yours, it's hot chocolate."

Zoro nods, pulling the cup off the table. He cradles it against his stomach, lets the warmth seep
from the foam into his hands.

He hears Smoker open his mouth. Only half a sound gets out before a ringer goes off. He pulls his
phone out of his pocket, "Hello?"

Zoro moves his focus away to give the man some privacy. Watches out the window as people
hurry by, heads turned down from the wind.
"Kid?"

He looks back. Smoker has the phone pulled away from his ear slightly, his hand covering the
speaker.

"It's Luffy."

The two words throw his view off balance.

Luffy. Luffy.

Does- is he calling for me? We just talked the other day- told him I'm alright.

His mouth opens and shuts shallowly a few times, floundering for a response.

"He's in the area. Captain Garp told him you're with me so he wants to come and see you."

He wants to see me.

"You don't have to say yes, kid. I can tell him you're not up for it."

"No, it's-" Zoro shakes his head. "'S okay."

Smoker looks at him in that certain way. 'You sure?', a tilt of his head.

It's Luffy. He seals it with a nod.

The man turns back to his phone, saying what Zoro presumes is the name of the cafe. A few more
things are said and then he cuts the line. "He said he's five minutes."

Zoro nods, tugging his sleeves and making sure his jacket is still zipped up all the way. He's glad
he's wearing it, glad Smoker let him change after he picked him up from work earlier- the jacket
helps hide his fucked up body.

Well, most of it anyway.

He raises a hand to his face. Feels at the tender skin of his slightly swollen cheek. The muted
bruising around his left eye. His split lip and the slash running diagonal from the bottom of his
cheek and stopping just under his right ear- it's butterflied shut for now, so it doesn't look as bad as
it feels. Hopefully Luffy won't ask about anything.

"You doin better?"

Not really. He shrugs. But thinking about seeing Luffy is helping take my focus off all the shit I said
at the station.

"I'm proud of you, y'know."

I know. It's the same thing Smoker said to him the last time he gave a statement to the police. He
says it a lot, actually, though it never feels deserved.

"You have work again tonight right?" A nod. "Do you want to stop by the gym after Luffy, or are
you going to go later in the evening?"

He appreciates that Smoker doesn't try and convince him out of going at all. I'll probably go to the
gym in a little, take a nap, and then go for a run a few hours before work. He voices his plan in a
couple words. Then, "Come?"

Smoker nods, glancing out the window, "Yeah, why not? It's been too long since the last time I
went." Zoro thinks he might be agreeing just to keep an eye on him. "I don't have gym clothes
though, if you don't mind us stopping back at the apartment before we go."

"Sure." Warm steam hits his face when he pops open the plastic tab of his drink. The hot chocolate
burns his tongue going down. They sit in silence a minute. Shit, there was something else I need to
do today. "Franky."

A brow gets raised. "Yeah, what about him."

"See."

"You want to see Franky?" The eyebrow raises higher.

Jinbe said there was something he wanted to talk to me about. Zoro nods, left hand making an
aborted gesture.

"I mean, yeah, we can stop in I guess. Is something wrong?"

He shrugs, unsure. It's probably about the fight nights- I'm sure he'll want to know if I'm back and
good for them.

Smoker sighs. "Alright, no problem. I'll call him in a little, see where he is."

"Thank you."

He nods. Sips slowly at his coffee.

Some minutes pass.

"Zoro!"

Like countless times before, he hears Luffy before he sees him. He comes into vision soon enough,
striped red and white puffy jacket almost as bright as the relieved smile on his face. "You're okay!"
He pops into the chair.

A sudden bashfulness takes over him in the face of Luffy's pink, wind-bitten cheeks. "Called.
Said," he grumbles, turning his head to the cup in his hands.

"I know, but you always just say you're okay, so I wasn't really sure."

He apologizes.

Luffy laughs and the sound hurts his still pounding head, but he doesn't really have in it himself to
care- I missed you so much. Luffy's hands are laid out on the table, tapping away a pattern. It seems
more a distraction to stop him from reaching for Zoro than anything else.

Zoro holds out his cup.

"Oh!" He sounds surprised. "Do you not want your...?"

"Hot chocolate." He puts it further out.

"Well, okay." Luffy takes the cup and immediately downs half of it. Then he just holds it, similarly
to how Zoro had been, and it seems to ease his tension- the act of holding something giving him an
outlet for anxious energy. More relaxed, his attention pivots to Smoker for the first time since he
walked in. "Smokey! How's it hanging?"

"Luffy," Smoker addresses him all calm, "Staying out of trouble, I hope."

Luffy just smiles. "You could say that."

"What brought you to the area today?"

He starts telling them about his day, and then he goes back a little, glancing at Zoro as he talks-
filling him in on any new things that happened in the weeks he was gone. Zoro doesn't respond
much, not that it seems to bother the other man, though he does listen intently to what's being said.

It's nice to hear Luffy's voice again.

Smoker gets up at some point to smoke outside, and they are left alone.

Luffy doesn't hesitate really, not in all the time he's known him. Always running into things head
first. He hesitates now. Watches Zoro's eye for a long second. "You know ... I thought when you
disappeared that it was the same thing happening again- as when we were kids."

Like when I left with Sir all those years ago. He thought he'd never see me again.

"I was so scared." The admission is said quietly. Zoro's doesn't show his surprise- though it's rare
for Luffy to open up about these things. "But you're here," and the statement seems to lift a weight
off his shoulders. "Even if you're bad hurt, at least you're here."

Bad hurt?

He doesn't question the choice of words, and just like on the phone the other day, Luffy doesn't ask
him what happened in his few weeks with Mihawk.

The thought terrifies him that he might already know.

"Sorry," he says, because he doesn't know what else to in the face of Luffy's worry. "'M okay."

Luffy smiles soft. Zoro wants to wrap it around himself like a blanket. "I missed you so much."

Me too.

Smoker returns to the table.

"Anyway, I shouldn't stay too long." Luffy gets up, setting the cup back on the table. Zoro wants to
ask him to stay as long as he wants, come to the gym with them- anything. "If you're feeling better
next week, I really wanna take you somewhere. I think you're gonna like it."

"Okay," he says automatically. "... Where?"

"It's a surprise, Zoro! I can't tell you."

A surprise?

"You'll just have to wait and see, alright?"

Guess there's no arguing with that. He nods.

Luffy pushes his chair in, "Thanks for letting me see you for a little."

Zoro stands with him, hopes Luffy doesn't notice his limp. He doesn't really want to touch Luffy-
you'll dirty him- hasn't wanted to touch anyone since he first woke back up in the hospital. But he
knows how much Luffy appreciates touch and doesn't want to leave him without anything,
especially not after he came special just to see him. "Can-" He struggles to raise his shaking arms.

Luffy smiles, impossibly softer. "It's okay, you don't have to." Then he goes up on the tips of his
toes and pecks a quick, gentle kiss on Zoro's bruised cheek. He rocks back down to his heels,
leaving Zoro a flushed mess. "Bye Zoro. See you later." Zoro nods, trying to ignore the buzzing in
his cheek. He waves to Smoker, "Bye Smokey!" And then he's out the door.

Smoker chuckles a little from his seat. "Well. He certainly is something, isn't he?"

He reels quietly in place, still feeling Luffy's lips on his skin.

"You ready to leave?"

"Yeah," Zoro nods, a little breathless, a little happily dazed. All from a fucking kiss to the cheek.
Shit. "Let's go."

The door swings shut behind Franky as he steps out onto the sidewalk. He joins Zoro where he's
leaned against the outside wall. "You here by yourself?"

Zoro shakes his head, nods down the street where Smoker is finding a spot to park the car.

"So where've you been, bro? Looks like you've been taking fights somewhere else," he gestures to
Zoro's injured face.

He's not about to tell him details but he lets him know, "Not a fight."

"I see."

They both watch Smoker adjust his parallel parking a minute.

"Wanted?"

He turns back to him. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you. Business stuff."

Zoro motions for him to go ahead.

Franky catches the trembling of his hand, "You alright there? Looking a little shaky bro."

"I'm fine." He's really itching for a cigarette- the only thing that has helped with his shakes the past
few days.

"Well, while you were gone ... wherever you were, a guy from one of the bigger mma promotions
called. Said they might be interested in signing you if you're able to get a few more wins under
your belt- y'know, make a little more of a name for yourself."

Interested in signing me.

Interested in signing me?!

"What?" He chokes out.

He's shocked dumb through to his toes. He'd been expecting Franky to ask about his weekly fights
not ... not- this. Fucking holy shit.

Franky has a wide smile on. "I know, super isn't it!" He smacks Zoro on the shoulder and Zoro is
too numbly excited to even care. "I think you should start off with a few tournaments. There's some
coming up in the area- both boxing and mma. Then, if those go well, I can try and get you some
PFL fights."

Fuck.

This is ... this is amazing.

"As long as you're dominant in one of the smaller promotions for a few fights, maybe a year or so, I
think it should be enough for the big guys to wanna sign you."

All I've ever wanted. It's never been so close before.

Fuck.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he hopes his voice conveys his sincerity. He gets on his knees
on the damp concrete just in case. It had been Franky to sign him up for the golden gloves where
he got recognized, Franky that's giving him this news.

"Aw, come on bro, you don't have to do all that." He shifts, a little uncomfortable, extends his hand
out. "Come back up, come on."

Zoro takes the hand and gets back to his feet. "Sponsor?" He wonders. Maybe that's why he's
telling me all this? It's what Franky had initially propositioned him about those months ago.

"No, I know you don't want a sponsor," he scratches at his long sideburns. "Unless that changed?"

He shakes his head. Still don't want a sponsor, but ... Franky seems to know what he's doing, or at
least like he might be willing to figure it out with me.

Then ... "Manager?" He asks, a little hesitant.

Franky laughs and brushes back wind-strewn strands of electric blue hair. "You're a good guy,
y'know that?" He clasps Zoro's shoulder again. "Let's just call it a friend helping you out, for now.
But once you stop fighting here," he waves to the Cutty Flam behind him, "then yeah, I think I can
make the manager thing work."

Zoro finds himself returning Franky's bright smile.

"Thank you," he says again.

Franky drops his hand, "I wanna see you make it big, bro." And Zoro can hear the genuineness in
 his voice.

Smoker joins in between them.

"What'd I miss?"

Chapter End Notes

sorry it took so long on this chapter (a whole month ! sorryy) ive been finding v little
time to write and as such have not looked over this but hopefully it came out alright w
no mistakes- ill probably go back and edit sometime

too tired to leave a long endnote but lmk your thoughts on the chapter and your
favorite parts, it keeps me going responding to them !

thanks for reading yall <3

End Notes

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