Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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 Text

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 Text

"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.

.

Chapter Text

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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."

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 Text

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 Text

Chapter Text

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. "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 Text

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 Text

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 Text

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 Text

"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 Text

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.