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At first, nothing seems amiss. Zoro is watching Luffy, watching all of them, because he knows what kind of trouble you can get into at a bar. Especially one like this, all seedy and rundown. They're taking a breather, as much as they can with a Captain like Luffy, and just enjoying themselves. Zoro keeps watch, because his job will always be to protect the crew (and his Captain). Even if they (Luffy) can take care of themselves.
There's a man talking to Luffy. Just some random guy, nothing special (he should know better, by now, than to judge a book by it's cover), so Zoro isn't worried. Luffy can handle a single guy. He looks away for a moment, to make sure the men Nami is scamming out of their beli haven't caught on yet. They've got no idea. She catches his eye and smirks, smug and in her element, a far cry from the broken woman in the tangerine groves outside of Cocoyashi. Usopp is throwing darts, drunk yet hitting a bullseye every time. The waiter is flirting with women twice his age, but he's making them laugh so it's a habit that Zoro's not going to stop him from indulging.
He looks back. The man has a hand on Luffy's thigh. Zoro tenses, because something feels off. It takes him a minute of watching the hand slide up his Captain's leg and come to rest on his hip to realize that Luffy is swaying like he's drunk. Except Luffy doesn't drink.
He stands up, barstool skittering behind him. His vision has gone slightly red-tinted around the edges with anger. How dare he. Wado is in his hand before he can blink, drawn and thirsty for blood in a way that Kuina for all her indignant rage never was. He moves like a predator, too fast for the rabit in his sights to process. His sword is beneath the man's chin before he can so much as twitch towards the pistol at his hip.
"Hands off or I slit your throat," he growls.
"Zoro!" Luffy says, surprised and slurred and wrong. Luffy has this sixth sense that means he's hard to sneak up on most of the time. He never sounds surprised when it's them. But maybe that's just because it's them.
The hand stays where it is, in fact it Luffy's hip squeezes possesively like this stranger has any right to Zoro's Captain. Faster than Zoro can blink (it's Kuro all over again and Zoro's not fast enough) he yanks Luffy into his lap and squeezes him tight, hand possessive on his hip. His other hand yanks out his pistol and presses the muzzle of it between Luffy's ribs, finger on the trigger.
"I think," the man says, licking his lips, "That he's coming with me. Unless you're quicker than a bullet."
Zoro growls, pressing the blade further into the man's throat. A trickle of blood drips down, staining the man's collar. Nami's stopped her game and is on her feet, furious but locked in place by the threat of a bullet. Sanji's eyes flick between the sword and the gun and the hand on Luffy's hip, eyes dark and knowing. Usopp clutches the dart in his hand so tightly his knuckles have gone white. They've all seen Luffy deflect cannonballs and survive all manner of things that would kill a normal person. But they've also seen him bleed and none of them want to know what a bullet would do to him at this close a range. Plus the speed is an unknown factor and who the hell knows what kind of shit this guy has up his sleeve?
Luffy blinks, slow and barely lucid. "Wha's goin' on? Zoro," he whines, "Wha's wrong?"
The hand moves, fingers dipping beneath the hem of Luffy's shorts and squeezing, lips nipping at the skin of his neck. Luffy makes a noise of discomfort and wrinkles his nose and Zoro reacts almost instinctively, blade gliding across skin like a fish through water. Arterial spray coats both their faces. The gun goes off. Nami screams, choked and rage-filled, but Luffy's body just distorts and the bullet ricochets out into the bar. It pings off the wall and back into the man's body, spraying them with even more blood. The hand falls, sliding off Luffy and hanging limp from the man's corpse. Luffy collapses and for one heartstopping moment of wild panic Zoro thinks he's dead. But his back rises and falls in that same irregular pattern that is so uniquely Luffy.
There is silence, for a moment, the only noise the steady drip of blood onto the wood floor. Then the bartender cocks a shotgun in Zoro's face.
"I want you out," he snaps, "All of you. I don't want troublemakers in my bar."
Zoro bears his teeth, angry. "But you'll allow rapists?" he growls, blood drying on his face and blade singing for more flesh.
The bartender's eyes dart from the corpse to Zoro's bloodsoaked sword to Luffy, who's slumped over the bar, unconscious. "Out!" he snaps again, finger twitching on the trigger.
"Fine." The word could cut glass. "We'll leave."
Luffy mumbles something, completely out of it, and Zoro's stomach clenches. The fear he hadn't allowed himself to feel in the moment is rushing in like high tide, threatening to drown him. He pushes it down. He wipes Wado on his pants and sheathes it. Gently, he scoops his Captain up in his arms. He's so small like this, light and young-looking. The perfect target.
"'oro," Luffy hums, pressing closer.
"C'mon," he grunts, gaze flicking between his nakama, "Let's go."
Nami can't stop staring at Luffy's face, bloodstained and slack as he lies limp in Zoro's arms. He looks so small right now, nothing like the larger than life pirate (and when did that stop being a dirty word?) who destroyed Arlong Park just a few weeks ago. He's strong, and a man, and so she foolishly assumed that meant she wouldn't have to warn him about these types of dangers.
Luffy isn't like most of the men she's come across. Luffy's touchy, sure, but he's never groped or copped a feel or anything of the sort. She can't even imagine him looking at someone sexually. And for all Arlong's cruelty, her former tormenter never crossed that line. The other fishmen saw her as an oddity, something akin to a pet. The dog sleeping out in the rain, begging for scraps. None of them ever looked at her with anything even approaching lust. Human men were a different story. Oh, she learned to use it against them. Sometimes, she even likes the attention. Mostly, it's a nuisance at best and terrifying at worst. Luffy is different, though. He's full of selfishness and takes what he wants, certainly, but not like that. Never like that.
And that makes what happened, what almost happened, worse. Not that it isn't bad in any case. But something about it happening to Luffy bothers her more than all the times she's been leered and pawed at. She put herself in those situations knowing the risks. Luffy had no fucking idea what was going on.
The walk back to the ship is silent and quick, save for one moment where they have to stop so that Usopp can vomit into a bush. He waves at them to go ahead but they all stay together because they don't want to leave anyone alone right now. Nami holds his hair back, braids a comforting weight in her palm. He leans against her and she lets him even though he smells like vomit and and alcohol because she needs the comfort.
Stepping onto the Merry feels like coming home, and Nami untenses ever so slightly.
"I'm gonna go sober up," Usopp calls over his shoulder, stumbling towards the kitchen.
Sanji flicks his eyes between Zoro and her, then to Luffy's unconscious body. "I'm going to get the Captain something to drink," he says, lighting a new cigarette. Unspoken is this: take care of him.
Nami turns to Zoro, who's clutching Luffy to his chest and looking lost. She takes pity on him (actually, she feels just as shaken as he appears, but she pushes through). "We need to get the blood off him," she says, slipping into the role of the one who gets shit done like an old glove. "Bastards like that usually have diseases that can be passed on. I don't know if Luffy can get sick, but we should be careful."
"I get blood on me all the time and I never get sick," Zoro says with a frown.
"Maybe that's why your hair is green," she snipes. "Listen, even if the guy was clean, " which she doubts, considering it looked like he knew what he was doing, "He could also have had drugs in his system or something. We need to clean Luffy up. Plus, I don't want blood on my sheets."
Zoro huffs, but follows her to the bath. It's small and cramped and not ideal for more than one person at a time, but they make do.
"Give him to me and run the bath," she tells him, "I'm going to get him out of these clothes." Zoro narrows his eyes and for a moment she thinks he's not going to hand Luffy over, but he does as he's told.
Luffy's clothes are a bloody mess. The bullet hole in the gut makes her teeth clench and there are bloody fingerprints smeared along his hip and thigh. The sound of water filling the bath is drowned out by her pulse thundering angrily in her ears. She tries to tell herself that at least nothing too terrible happened, but the sentiment rings hollow and bitter. As quickly as she can, she strips him out of his shorts and vest, leaving him in his underwear.
Then she half picks Luffy up, half drags him into the bath. He thrashes as he goes in, then goes boneless in a way that reminds her too much of when Arlong threw him off the dock at the Baratie. His eyelids flutter but still he doesn't wake. Zoro hands her a washcloth wordlessly, then moves to stand guard at the door. She nods, a sharp dip of her chin that communicates the words she can't quite force past the lump in her throat.
There's no wound where the bullet hit Luffy's stomach, not even a bruise. The hollow of his ribs is as smooth and unblemished as always, but she can't stop looking at it, searching every inch for some injury she might've missed. It makes something in her throat tight. He's not hurt, thank god.
But something happened, even though nothing happened. It's the almost that's gonna haunt her, that maybe, the what ifs. She scrubs the blood from her Captain's skin methodically, zoning out so totally that she jumps a little when Sanji knocks on the door. She exhales harshly through her nose, trying to calm her racing heartbeat.
"Here," he says, setting a change of clothes next to the tub. "There's a glass of water next to your bed and some painkillers in case the gunshot actually did any damage."
"Those don't work on him," she says distractedly.
"What?" he asks.
"Painkillers don't work on him," she explains, "Something to do with his devil fruit."
"Damn," Sanji whistles. Then he tries for a smile, "Does the lady want anything?"
She really should eat, but her stomach is too knotted up with nerves for her to even consider it. "I'll pass."
"Let me know if that changes, love," he says as he gives Luffy one last glance, then leaves. Zoro glares at him as he goes, but there's no real heat behind it. If anything, it's a desperate bid at normalcy.
"Help me get him out of the tub," she tells him.
Zoro obliges, lifting Luffy like he weighs nothing. She wraps him in a towel, bundling him up like Belle-mere used to do for her and Nojiko. She scrubs his hair until it's no longer dripping wet and tries her best to comb the snarls out with her fingers. Luffy unconsciously leans into the touch, too trusting for his own good, and her heart aches. Someone almost took that trust and shattered it tonight. She wants to hold him tight and never let go.
Instead, she dresses him as quickly as she can, touching him as little as possible because if it were her she wouldn't want to be touched. Zoro scoops him up and she wonders, not for the first time, how she got this lucky. She would've thought she'd be dead in a ditch by Arlong's hand before she ever joined another pirate crew willingly. But here she is, tucking her Captain into her bed and brushing damp curls out of his face.
She lingers in the doorway for a moment, not ready to let him out of her sight. Zoro is a silent pillar of strength by her side, still stained with blood. The coppery scent is both a comfort and a condemnation, a reminder of how far each of them is willing to go for the man who saved them.
Sanji cooks, because that's what he does when he's upset or stressed. It's his rock (and, oh, what a loaded metaphor) and his anchor and his salvation. It's the only thing he's ever done right. And Luffy needs this, needs him. Food is important to his Captain, more so than anyone Sanji has ever met outside of him and Zeff. To Sanji, food is sacred. No one understands that like Luffy.
So he cooks, because that's what he's built to do. He sinks into the familiarity of the movements, hyper-aware of Usopp's presence at the breakfast nook. He's slumped over, staring into the glass of water Sanji slammed down in front of him with more force than necessary because, christ, if it wasn't for Zoro something awful would've happened. Sanji knows, moreso he thinks than anyone on this boat but Nami (and maybe Mosshead, if he's not so oblivious), the kinds of dangers that lurk in a bar. He was raised at the Baratie and there were always fuckers who were a bit too handsy. Zeff never let them leave intact, but he's got some memories that still make his stomach turn over, even if he didn't fully realize how bad the situation could have gotten at the time.
"Uh," Usopp pipes up, "Something's burning."
Sanji curses, pulling the pot of soup off the stove. He never burns things. Is he really this shaken up over something that didn't even happen to him?
"So," Usopp says as he dumps the ruined soup down the sink, "Do you think Luffy'll be okay?"
Sanji exhales forcefully, scrubbing the pot with more force than is strictly necessary. "I doubt it," he says, "Based on my experience, stuff like that can really fuck you up." He rinses out the suds, watching them swirl down the drain. "Then again, Luffy consistently defies my expectations so I have no bloody clue."
"When you say personal experience, do you mean you've been, like," Usopp sounds nervous, fingers tapping a rhythm into the wood of the table.
"Not whatever you're thinking," he says, heating more beef stock and starting the soup over again. "I just mean that there were some unsavory types hanging around the Baratie when I was a kid. The old geezer made sure they got what was comin' to 'em."
He remembers being fifteen and sullen and so bloody stupid, lured by the promise of booze and the attentions of an attractive man. The marines were on shore leave and Sanji had been enamored by one of them. He'd felt so special, when the man had invited him over to the bar for a smoke and a drink. He'd been pissed, when Zeff had interrupted. He'd thought himself mature and grown up enough to handle himself. So he'd snuck back out to meet the man. It's the only time he's ever used his hands in a fight, clawing and scratching with all his might, going for the eyes and failing still because he was weak. He'd ended up with a black eye and a split lip, screaming at the top of his lungs for help. Patty had come running, finding him pinned to the wall, humiliated and terrified.
The marine had been bloody at Patty's feet by the time Carne got Zeff, Sanji himself a shaking mess of tears and barely contained panic. To date, he's never seen Zeff that angry. It's also the only time he ever called Sanji his son. The marine ended up dead, beaten beyond all recognition and his throat slit, dumped off the dock. He'd avoided the bar for months, skin itching at the scent of booze and the flirty remarks from customers. They never talked about it, but Zeff kept him working in the kitchen rather than waiting tables for a long time after.
Sanji clears his throat, "It really isn't important. Luffy's strong. He'll be okay."
Usopp makes a noncommittal noise. "Okay," he says, sounding unconvinced. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
He doesn't answer, focusing on the soup. Usopp doesn't ask any more questions. After what feels like hours but is probably only a few minutes, Nami appears in the doorway like a wraith. She sits down next to Usopp with a heavy sigh that makes Sanji's chest ache. There's a part of him that wants to ask if she knows this feeling that creeps under your skin like rotting, waterlogged wood. Termites chewing at your bones and sea air turning nails to rusty spindles of metal. He thinks she does know.
He thinks they won't ever talk about it.
He puts a glass of tangerine juice down in front of her. "Where's the mosshead?"
She jerks her head back the way she came. "Zoro's guarding the door. I tried to tell him that no one's getting Luffy while we're on the boat but," she shrugs, hands spread helplessly.
Sanji curses, not angry. He could never be angry with Nami, he thinks. He curses because it's second nature growing up in a kitchen, growing up with sailors, ex-pirates, to express strong emotions that way. It's the only way he knows. He turns back to the stove and laddles out four bowls. "Here," he says, setting two down in front of her and Usopp. "I'll bring our dear Captain some soup."
"He's still out," Nami tells him.
Sanji grabs the other two bowls and doesn't reply. No one goes hungry with him around. Not even Mosshead.
As promised, Zoro has parked himself outside of Nami's room. To an outside observer he might almost look asleep, but Sanji knows better. His posture is too tense and his eyes are slits like a predator. Mine, his body seems to say. Sanji pushes down a flinch, a sense-memory of green hair and cruelty. Zoro is not Yonji. He's so far from Yonji it's practically laughable. Yonji wouldn't have stopped that man in the bar. Yonji would've watched and laughed.
"What do you want, Waiter?" Zoro growls.
"Eat," Sanji snaps, shoving the bowl at him. "This one's for the Captain, if I'm allowed to see him that is?" He knows he's being bitchy but he doesn't particularly care.
Zoro grunts, jerking his head towards the door in a move that's reminiscent of Nami in the kitchen. "Go ahead. I ain't stoppin' ya."
Luffy looks so very small and young like this, bundled in Nami's bed with only his face and fluffy dark hair visible above the blankets. Sanji sets the soup on the side table and brushing his fringe out of his eyes.
Luffy shifts. "Ace?" he whines, slurred and sleepy, "M'head hurts. I miss you, don' leave." His hand snakes out from under the blankets and snagging Sanji's wrist.
Sanji's breath catches in his throat. He's not sure who Ace is, but Luffy needs reassurance and Sanji's going to give it to him. So he strokes Luffy's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp as he sits down on the edge of the bed, careful not to rock the bed.
"I'm not going anywhere," he promises softly.
Luffy hums, opening his eyes slowly. He's still far from lucid, Sanji can tell from the way his eyes are glazed over, but he's not completely knocked out and that's a start.
"'Abo?" Luffy murmurs, eyes going soft and happy, "You're here again. I'm glad I get to see you, even if you're really dead."
Sanji feels like he's been punched in the gut. "Yeah," he chokes, "I'm glad to see you too."
Luffy turns his head into the pillow, smiling faintly as Sanji continues to stroke his hair gently. He makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat, a sleepy muted rumble like he's purring, and it breaks something in Sanji's chest, all this trust. He flees as soon as Luffy's breathing slows into sleep, some unnameable emotion lodged in his throat.
Usopp sees Sanji rush out the door, face pale and hands fumbling for a cigarette. He considers going after him, but the conversation in the kitchen makes him pause. Sanji doesn't want to talk about it, and maybe it's the cowards way out, but Usopp isn't about to make him.
Nami watches Sanji go, face blank and flickering with too many emotions for Usopp to catch. Then she slumps against him, all exhaustion and too-prominent bones and lithe muscle. He leans into her, pressing his chin against the top of her head like he's trying to shield her. She doesn't need his protection, not really, and he's too cowardly to really be a good shield, but he can hold her like this.
"You good?" he asks.
She hums. "Could be better, but I'm okay."
"Okay," he murmurs. She smells like tangerines and ink. "Sanji said Luffy might not be okay."
She shrugs. "Nothing really happened. It could've been a lot worse if Zoro wasn't watching out for him."
"Yeah," he agrees. He wishes he'd been braver, brave enough to step in despite the gun. But he's always been a coward and a liar and Luffy almost got hurt because he was too afraid to step in. "Thank god for Zoro."
She hums, the sharp bone of her elbow pressing into his ribs and chin propped on his shoulder. She feels like home, like Kaya kind of but also not. Warm and sweet and hard-edged and sharp smiles baring teeth. She's strong, stronger than he'll ever be; she was only ever strong because she had to be, and now she's learning to let herself be weak. He thinks he loves her all the more for it.
"When Luffy wakes up," he starts, "What should we do?" He has no experience here, no frame of reference. He's been thrown in the deep end of the pool without a rope. "Like, what should I say? Should I ask him about how he's feeling? Should I just not say anything? Should I-"
"Usopp," she cuts him off. "Just... be normal."
He laughs nervously. "Nothing about this is normal."
"Yeah, well when has our crew ever been?" she sighs, exhaling hard enough to move his braids, beads clacking against each other.
Zoro steps through the doorway, wood creaking under his heavy boots. "Tell the waiter to get his ass in here. He says he doesn't want to be alone," he states bluntly.
Usopp straightens, arms tightening reflexively around Nami. Not because he thinks Zoro's a danger to any of them or something, but just because. "Luffy's awake?"
"Eh," Zoro shrugs, "Kind of. Doesn't seem to know where he is."
"That's common," Nami says.
Usopp looks down, eyes catching on the way the light from the porthole turns her hair into fire and spun gold like a princess out of a fairytale. He doesn't ask how she knows that, just like he didn't ask Sanji. He's a coward for not asking. He knows this.
"I'll go get Sanji," he says into the stillness of the kitchen, untangling himself from Nami. She smiles at him fleetingly, all wan and thin like cotton. He smiles back, just as tired. Zoro doesn't smile, but he rarely does unless he's looking at Luffy so it's okay.
The night air is cold and brisk, tasting heavily of salt and the smoke from Sanji's cigarette. He's smoked way too many of those tonight, Usopp figures, but he's not about to call him on it.
"Hey man," he says, coming to stand next to him at the railing. "Zoro says Luffy doesn't wanna be by himself right now, so you should come inside." He taps his fingers restlessly on the smooth wood of Merry's rail.
Sanji doesn't look at him, eyes focused on something in the distance. "Give me a bit," he says after moment of heavy silence. "Just let me finish this," he gestures lazily with the hand holding his cigarette.
"Okay," Usopp says, not sure what else there is to say. "Don't take too long," he settles on finally.
"Yeah," Sanji says distantly. "Christ," he mutters, running a hand down his face. He laughs, hollow and tired. "What's even the point of all this, eh? What's the bloody point?"
Usopp hesitates. "Are- Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Sanji snaps, jaw clenching so hard he bites his cigarette in half.
"Okay," Usopp says, hands coming up. Coward, coward, coward.
Sanji grinds out the butt, swearing angrily. "This isn't about me, so don't bother asking, 'cos I'm. Fine."
"Okay, man," Usopp says softly, "It's okay."
"Just go inside," Sanji says under his breath, "Let me be pathetic all by myself, yeah?" When Usopp doesn't move, Sanji looks up at him, all shadowed eyes and shoulders lined with exhaustion, "Please?"
"Yeah," Usopp says finally, "Yeah, okay." He pauses at the door for a moment, looking back at Sanji. "Whatever happened," he trips up, struggling for words, "I don't know what happened, with you. But I think it probably wasn't your fault."
Sanji inhales sharply. "Fuck off," he says, voice shaking.
"Don't take too long," he repeats, feeling slightly unsettled.
He shuts the door, taking a second to rest his forehead against the grain of the wood. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He's not qualified for this. He is so not qualified for this. He's going to do it anyway, though. Because they're his nakama. He has to.
He walks down the hall towards Nami's room, stopping to grab some blankets and pillows from the boys' room. It feels like he's looking into someone else's life, stepping over dirty clothes and a bug encyclopedia that he and Luffy were looking at earlier. It feels like the day after his mom's funeral, when he came home to an empty house and found her slippers tucked in the corner and her reading glasses on the bedside table and he cried and cried and cried because everything was different and nothing was the way it used to be.
He blinks once, twice. Gets over it. Tries to smile. Act normal; Nami said to be normal. He can do this.
The hallway seems to stretch out before him as he walks to Nami's room, like something out of a ghost story. He can barely see around the pile of blankets he's holding and almost trips a couple time. He keeps his balance successfully, though, and makes it to the bedroom.
"Hey," he says, setting down the fluffy mass of fabric and stuffing. "So, uh, Sanji said he'll be in a bit. Needed to finish his cigarette." He silently wills Zoro not to start shit with Sanji over this when he finally does show. The poor guy might cry, considering his emotional state when Usopp left him. Luckily, he just grunts from his spot where Nami's using him as a pillow.
Luffy, however, makes a noise of discontent. "Where's Sanji?" he whines.
"He's coming," Usopp, soothes. "He just needed a minute."
"M'okay," Luffy hums sleepily. His accent is thick and syrupy like this. "Jus' wan' everyone ta be here. Don' like bein' alone."
Usopp's throat goes tight. He remembers what it's like to be lonely and scared. "We're right here. We're not leaving."
Nami reaches over and grabs Luffy's hand, squeezing it. "Oh," Luffy says, brightening, "Nami's here! Look, Usopp, Zoro, Nami's here! I told you guys she was good!" A dopey grin splits his face as Nami's expression crumples slightly. She squeezes his hand again.
Zoro nods, "Aye Cap'n."
The door opens with a slight bang. They all jolt. Sanji stands like a wraith, burnt-down cigarette hanging from his lips. "Sorry," he mutters, not meeting their eyes.
"Sanji!" Luffy crows happily.
"Is he drunk?" Sanji asks, cocking his head. "Mosshead, did you give him alcohol?"
"Luffy doesn't drink," Zoro says, "It's the drugs," the silent dumbass obvious.
"Right," Sanji says shortly, plopping down on one of the blankets, drawing his knees to his chest.
"No, Sanji," Luffy whines, making grabby hands at him. "C'mere!" He stretches, latching onto Sanji's arm and pulling him onto the bed with a thud and a noise of surprise.
"Bloody hell!" Sanji yelps, half-muffled by the bedclothes.
Zoro cackles, only to let out his own yelp of surprise when Luffy yanks him onto the bed too. Nami makes a high noise of pain as her head bangs into the wall. "Luffy!" she shrieks indignantly. "I'm gonna kick your ass, I swear to god," she snarls, but there's a grin twitching at the edges of her mouth and she clambers up onto the bed next to them.
Usopp isn't far behind, crawling onto the sliver of remaining mattress and awkwardly resting his chin on Sanji's shoulder. Sanji tenses slightly, board-stiff, before relaxing minutely. Luffy makes a sleepy, pleased sort of noise and that's what sticks in Usopp's mind as he drifts off to sleep.
Luffy wakes up warm in a way he hasn't been since Sabo was alive, pressed between sleeping bodies. His head feels funny and he doesn't remember much after going to the bar last night. He has a fuzzy memory of the feeling of a hand on his hip, but he's not so sure if that's real. He opens his eyes, blinking at his nakama surrounding him. His chest feels warm and happy and he sighs, sinking into that feeling of contentment. He still feels vaguely sleepy, enough that he knows he could fall asleep again if he closed his eyes, but he doesn't really wanna.
Instead, he observes his nakama. Zoro is half-on top of him like a heavy, meaty blanket and he likes that feeling of weight and security. Sanji is on his other side, all bony limbs and lean muscles. He's pointy, but that's okay because Luffy loves him and wants him close even if his elbow is poking his ribs. He lets that part of him stretch and fold so he no longer feels it on his ribs. Ace is all elbows too. Luffy bets he's still pointy, even if he claims he has more muscles than Luffy. It's hard to get muscles when you're made of rubber, but Ace would still make fun of him for it.
He hasn't thought about Ace in a while. He hopes he's having a good adventure. He hopes wherever Sabo is he's having one too.
Nami is curled at the edge of the bed, using Zoro's back as a pillow. Usopp has flopped himself over the foot, limbs splayed and snoring. It makes Luffy smile, pleased and affection-drunk. His tummy growls.
"Sanji," he whispers, nudging his cook, "Sanji, I'm hunggrrryyyy," he draws the word out in that way that always made Ace throw up his hands and cave.
Sanji snuffles, making Luffy giggle. He looks so silly like this, bangs all curly and hair messy. He likes to be neat. Luffy's never bothered being neat, what's the point? It just gets in the way of having fun!
Sanji blinks awake. "Shaddup," he mutters, elbowing him slightly.
"Sanji," he repeats insitently, "Sanji, Sanji, SanjiSanjiSanjiSan-"
"Almighty Davy Jones, the hell do you want?" he snaps, rubbing his eyes. Then he blinks, staring at Luffy. "Captain?" he croaks, sounding like he smoked a lot last night.
"Hi," Luffy beams, "I'm hungry!"
Sanji smiles slightly, eyes crinkling. This close, Luffy can see that he has freckles like Nami and Ace do, but a lot fainter. "And what, pray tell, do you want to eat?"
"Meat!" Luffy cheers.
"Figured as much," Sanji mutters, half a grin still on his face. He rolls out of bed and Luffy moves to follow. "What're you doing?" he asks, brows pinched.
"I wanna watch," Luffy says, stretching his arm to grab his hat from the hook by the door. Every room has a hook. Usopp put them in in case he needed a place to put his hat.
"You don't have to," Sanji says.
"Silly Sanji, I wanna though," Luffy insists. "Sanji likes cooking, so I wanna watch Sanji be happy." It's not that complicated.
Sanji goes a little red. Uh oh, maybe they need to find a doctor? But then he shakes his head and mutters something under his breath. "No stealing anything from the pan again you greedy little freak," he insists, wagging his finger in Luffy's face.
"Okay," Luffy agrees easily. He can be patient.
Being patient is the worst. Luffy thinks this is worse than torture. Because the food smells so good and also he's thinking about last night and wondering why he can't remember anything except hands touching him and usually he likes being touched but this touch felt mean and slimy and gross. And the more he tries not to think about it, the bigger the funny feeling in his stomach gets.
"Sanji?" he asks, "Do you know what happened last night? At the bar?"
Sanji freezes and Luffy perks up. "Do you... not know?" Sanji asks, and oh! Luffy knows this tone! It means he should already know what he's asking about. But that's stupid. He wouldn't be asking if he did know.
"Nope," he says, popping the 'p'. "It's fuzzy. I remember..." he squints, thinking. "I remember hands, I think. It felt funny cause I didn't like it but I usually do like touching. But this felt weird."
Sanji curses, slamming the spatula into the frying pan really hard.
Luffy cocks his head, "Was there a fight or something?"
"Kind of," Sanji says after a minute.
"Did you get 'em?" he asks.
"He's dead. He's not hurting anyone ever again," Sanji says, all flat and really angry underneath.
Luffy blinks, not expecting that. He knows Zoro was a bounty hunter and killed pirates, he's not stupid, but he didn't really think anyone on his crew would keep killing people. He didn't even really mean to kill Arlong, he just hit him too hard and he didn't get back up. But that's fine because he hurt Nami and anyone who hurts nakama deserves a beating.
"He hurt one of us," Luffy decides.
"Captain," Sanji says. He doesn't turn around but his back is all tense and that's bad. "He tried to... hurt you."
Luffy cocks his head, confused. "But I'm fine! I'm not bleeding or nothin'!"
"Not that kind of hurt!" Sanji snaps, whirling around and slamming his palms onto the table. "He drugged you and then-" he cuts himself off, balling his fists and turning back to the stove.
Luffy blinks, then narrows his eyes. "He tried to do something really bad," he says.
Sanji exhales, "Yes, Captain."
"Something I can't remember," Luffy continues. He tries to think of bad things, of hurting that isn't about bleeding. He remembers being little and there being certain people in Grey Terminal that Ace wouldn't let him go near. He remembers Ace beating up a guy who offered him candy once, a little after Sabo died. Luffy had whined about it, because food, Ace! but Ace had taken him by the shoulders and made him swear not to take candy from people in the Terminal. "There are really bad people in the world," he says after a moment.
"Yeah," Sanji says, flipping the bacon, "Yeah, there are."