The Black Water

Chapter 3: The planning

Sanji wailed in agony as he felt the bones in his index and middle finger crunch under the door. The door bounced back open long enough for Sanji to yank his hand away and into his chest before the guard shut it again. The sound of the crack Repeated in Sanji's head again and again for hours, causing him to silently cry as he stared at his mangled hand. His precious hand. His cooking hand. The hand he had used to prepare meals, sautee, everything. He bit his lip and choked back a sob as he tried tearing off some fabric from his pants in an attempt to wrap his fingers to help hold them until he could get to Chopper, it was to no avail, he needed both hands for that.

Eventually, the door slammed open and a motionless Zoro was tossed in the cell before it closed once more. "Zoro!" Sanji yelled. He watched cautiously for a moment as the bleeding figure didn't respond. Sanji limped over, he stared at Zoro, shaking him gently. The boy didn't move, but a slight groan escaped his lips. Good, Zoro was at least alive. As Sanji finished his thoughts, A cold gust of wind blew in from the adjacent wind, blowing clear against Sanji's back, sending a chill up his spine. He felt his working hand go icy with the cold as the turned purple. At this rate, he was going to die of pneumonia before anything else. He groaned as he looked down at Zoro, he hated that this was his last option, but it was. He leaned down and held Zoro close to him to try and keep some warmth between the two of them. He could feel an excessive amount of heat come from Zoro. He had a fever, no doubt about it, but there wasn't anything Sanji could do at the moment to help it. He pulled Zoro close as another chill went down his back. Zoro had to wake up. He had to; Those words reverberated in his thoughts for hours until he eventually fell asleep.

He was warm, way too warm. He felt a cold sweat trickle down his brow as he slowly awoke. Zoro was overheating. He had to have infection spreading in some of his wounds. He felt warmth across his back and his hips. He moved his hands to the surprising warmth on his hips. He was surprised when he met with the smooth skin of the cook. He was surprised by the gentle hold of the typically brash man. Zoro felt his hands trail down his sides to where the cook's hand held around his stomach. The cook mumbled something in his sleep and reached for Zoro's hand, holding it tightly in his unconscious state. Zoro blushed and went to pull away but stopped. What was the point in him pulling away when they both needed warmth? He relaxed his hand as the cook held it. Zoro focused on the small scars he could feel lining Sanji's fingers from years of accidentally cutting himself while cooking. The cook's palm, however, was entirely unmarked and smooth. These were the hands that Sanji held so much pride in, just like Zoro held pride in his unmarred back. Zoro bit the inside of his cheek. He was not about to let Sanji's prized possession get ruined like his was. He was going to get then out of there. He had to. He began running through everything he knew of their situation.

Sanji's hand started to move as he awoke. Zoro lay still, not wanting to agitate his wounds. He felt Sanji begin to pull his hand away but pause for a brief moment as he registered what he was holding. At the realization, he quickly yanked his hand away. He stayed close to Zoro as he looked the marimo. Zoro was pale and sweating profusely; his face slightly contorted in pain. He pushed some of the soft green hairs away from Zoro's scarred eye as he looked in concern. Zoro may not wake up from this.

Zoro very gently opened his working eye as he eyed the cook "Oi." He muttered. Sanji stumbled back, quickly throwing his mutilated hand behind his back. He grinned goofily, but it didn't meet his eyes.

"You had me thinking you weren't going to wake up." Sanji laughed softly.

"In that case, you decided to cuddle my dead body to keep me alive?"

"Oi, oi, oi. Shut up! It was cold!" Sanji growled.

Zoro quietly laughed, at least he could still mess with the cook. Sanji watched as Zoro hoisted himself up against the wall. Sanji rubbed his working hand against his chest. He could feel Zoro's blood sticking to his chest; He cringed slightly at the wounds. He really could go for a cigarette right now. He felt the familiar gnawing crawl in his chest as the desire for nicotine became more prominent. He remained seated in the middle of the cell as he looked up to see Zoro staring at him. His onyx eyes glimmered with something concerning, but weirdly comforting. His eyes scanned down Sanji's body till they got to the spot where his hand was hiding behind his back. Sanji's hand instinctually throbbed.

"Oi, what are you hiding back there?" Zoro said in a lowered tone, closing his eyes as he leaned his head back.

"Nothing." Sanji smoothly recovered. "Nothing at all. It's fine." He said the last part a bit quieter.

"Don't make me come over there and fuck my wounds up to make you show me." He opened one eye and leveled it at the cook. "'Cuz I will." The two had an intense staring match, Zoro's look explaining all too well that he wasn't afraid to reopen his wounds. Sanji sighed, slowly pulling his broken hand away from his back. "Fuck." The swordsman quietly cursed. He could feel the bile rise in the back of his throat as he stared at those hands, those precious hands that he had spent that quiet hour appreciating. Sanji treasured his hands more than anything. He learned a whole style of fighting that protected his hands. Zoro was fuming.

"How did it happen?" He growled. Sanji just lowered his eyes. "How did it happen?" Zoro spat each word out sharper than the last. "San-" Zoro began to press before Sanji cut him off.

"They were going to take you." He said quietly. "I couldn't let them do that," he gestured a hand at Zoro's wounds, "again. I tried to stop them, but they slammed my hand in the door." Zoro's face turned into something demonic. "I had to stop them!" Sanji's voice rose. "Your Luffy's right-hand man, You're the greatest swordsman in the world, but more importantly, you're our friend!" He was shouting at the end before his voice lowered to something barely more than a whisper. "You're," he paused, "my friend." Tears were welling in his eyes know as he stared at his mangled hand lying on the floor.

"I'm going to get us out of here," Zoro said to himself with a deadly type of confidence. He was livid. No one was going to hurt the cook, not again, not if he could help it. Zoro moved slowly over to Sanji with a look of feral determination. "I'm going to get us out of here." This time he was saying it loud enough to convince the cook of his ambition. Sanji bit his lip as the tears continued to flow. "Here's what I know." Zoro then began relaying what information he had of the place, which wasn't much. When they would bring Zoro out, they would drag him through a few different halls. Zoro wasn't sure, but it definitely felt like they took a different route each time. One thing was always the same, he always passed by what seemed to be a kitchen. Cooks were consistently dashing in and out of the room with plates of food. A few times, though, he saw people walking out carrying heavy boxes of supplies. This information had to mean that there was some sort of loading dock through there. Loading docks had to signal that there was something on the outside to get supplies and packages inside. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something. "In order to get to that dock, we are going to have to fight with all we've got next time they come, alright?"

Sanji was unsure that it would work but nodded his head nonetheless, they typically managed to make things work. It was at least something, and something was better than nothing. Zoro yawned and laid back down, his body overcome with exhaustion. Sanji looked at him and thought he had the right idea. They should both be sleeping if they want any strength. Sanji slowly lowered his sore body to the floor. The first thing he noticed was how frozen the cement floor was. He curled up into a ball and shivered. Zoro glanced over and was relieved to see the cook feeling just as cold as he was. Zoro rolled over and wrapped the cook up in his arms, attempting to provide warmth for them both. Sanji immediately stiffened in Zoro's grip and opened his mouth to say something. "Warmth," Zoro stated matter-a-factly, and that was that. Sanji slowly relaxed in the swordsman's strong arms.

Sanji was surprised at first when Zoro grabbed him, but he slowly settled into it as he could feel Zoro's heat rippling off of his body. It was a little concerning, as Zoro definitely had a fever, which was disconcerting, but the warmth was indeed welcome. Sanji's hand was throbbing immensely. He needed to have Chopper check it out soon, or the damage may become irreversible. Sanji shook the thought from his head as he looked at the already fast asleep Zoro. Despite being wounded and unconscious, the swordsman held the cook tightly against him. Sanji found it almost comforting. Sanji started thinking back to the days on The Sunny. He could almost hear Luffy, Ussop, Chopper, and Franky all laughing at something stupid. Nami and Robin were gossiping on the deck as Brooke serenaded them while they drank tea. Zoro was up in the Eagle's nest working out. Sanji paused to watch as the swordsman's defined muscles rippled in the sun; sweat was dripping down his back. It was almost mesmerizing how Zoro moved while lifting his inhumane weights over his head. Sanji's fond memory became a dream as the cook slowly nodded off; hoping to one day return to his bumbling poor excuse of a crew.