Chapter Text
Days pass and Luffy still does not wake up.
Life on Sunny has been significantly dampened by Luffy’s condition, though all of the crew are good at covering it up with various menial activities; Nami works on her maps, Usopp weaves out story after story, Sanji cooks, the list goes on. Zoro’s personal goal is to put his entire being into training, and when he isn’t working to lift heavier weights, he’s drinking his heart out, sleeping or stationed besides Luffy. Chopper, on the other hand, has firmly retreated into a self-preservative state of typical doctor-patient dissociation, by viewing Luffy merely as someone who needs treatment rather than their captain, in severe pain, who’s suffered for days, it probably helps him cope.
Every morning, midday, evening and night, Zoro visits the infirmary bedside, and awaits his captain’s eventual rise. It’s odd, to see someone so full of life be still for such a long period of time without a single interlude of restlessness. Luffy is someone who can’t sit still for more than a minute without succumbing to sheer boredom, yet now, he’s no more than a broken statue in the bed. Occasionally, he’ll let out tiny whimpers or moans, or ball up the duvet in shaking hands. Other than that, he remains unconscious. Zoro suspects it's the poison that’s affecting him.
All around the clock, Chopper has been working to try and stave off whatever those Marines injected Luffy with. So far, progress is minimal - without the dozens of machines keeping Luffy alive, he could very well be in critical condition or worse. He’s already in somewhat of a coma right now as it is. But Zoro has faith in Chopper, faith in his captain.
They’ll pull through, somehow.
That’s why he isn’t surprised to be awoken on the sixth day since Luffy’s rescue by the sound of Chopper calling everyone down. His voice is strangely frantic, barely suppressing what sounds to be sobs of distress. Zoro jumps down from the crow’s nest, his boots thudding against the deck as he marches up to where Chopper stands, holding a notepad in his shaking hooves. He looks out of breath. Zoro wonders just how long ago he got those results scribbled in ink on the paper.
“I’ve managed to contain the drugs that were used on him.” Chopper announces to a startled and relieved chorus.
“Good, can you get them out?” Nami asks, which brings forth multiple questions of similar variety.
“Is Luffy-bro gonna be okay?”/“Will he wake up soon?”/“It’s not fatal, r-right?!” Several people burst out at the exact same time.
“Yes,” Chopper’s voice rings over the encore of colliding voices. The crowd goes silent for when he next continues, a waver in between every word, “but it’s going to be a slow process. We can’t risk him going into withdrawal. He’ll need to be weaned off of it slowly, I'd say over the course of a few weeks at least… that’ll mean a lot of the symptoms will stick around for a while as well…maybe even including after I’ve extracted all of the poison.”
“Can you give us some examples?” Jinbe requests.
Chopper obliges, “...From what I can tell, the poison was intended to attack his sensory organs - mainly the eyes and ears. His nervous system has also been compromised. There are other, um, complications he has, but those aren’t related to the poison. I can’t give a rough estimate of a recovery period for any of those things, that’ll need to be assessed if- when he wakes up”
Zoro gulps down a lump in his throat - he’d suspected something was up with Luffy’s eyes by the way they had frantically moved from place to place, distant, unable to pinpoint anything. But to hear that his ears and body had been under fire as well … dread stirs in his gut.
“Wait, d-does that mean he can’t see or hear!?” Usopp exclaims for all of them, horror written all over his face.
Chopper winces slightly at the volume, “Probably…” he admits, averting his eyes in perhaps shame as a wave of horror ripples through the expressions of everyone on board, “I’ll need to run some tests when he wakes up to determine how much it’s affected him though. He may still have some vision and hearing left, but I’m really not sure.”
“He didn’t respond or look at any of us when we were rescuing him, if that helps.” Nami whispers. Her face is ghostly, and she fiddles absently with her logpose.
A dark cloud has befallen the crew. Nervous glances are spared in the direction of the infirmary, Zoro’s included. Most of his attention has mainly been focused on Luffy’s injuries, as well as his rescue. Thoughts of what would happen after he inevitably opens his eyes hadn’t even crossed his mind. But to be blinded and deafened before being tortured? That’s just plain evil. Those marines better be rotting at the bottom of the ocean as retribution for the sins they’ve committed.
“Shit… no wonder he was spooked,” Sanji bites out. The cigarette in his hand is extinguished as he lets out a deep sigh, “he probably thought we were the marines.”
Chopper winces, then turns back to his list, losing himself within the pages, “The drugs have also weakened his legs, so he’s going to be unsteady on his feet for a while as he’s healing,” He addresses Franky and Usopp, “it might help to make a wheelchair and maybe some crutches to help him while he’s healing”
Once both have replied with affirmatives, Chopper returns to facing the entire crew, scouring his list for what has to be said next, before pivoting over to Sanji this time.
“His fine motor control has probably taken a hit as well, so make sure his meals are something that can be easily picked up and preferably soft so if he needs help with eating he won’t choke.”
Sanji nods, and thus Chopper moves on. However, as he turns, Zoro catches a glimpse of something on the bottom of the page, which has been scribbled on with shaky penmanship, and displayed in red ink compared to the other black writing. There are several splotches on the corner of the page, watery stains surrounding the writing that appear to be tears. Before he can investigate further, Chopper catches him looking, and is quick to cover the words up with his hoof, fur bristling up like a stray cat locked in a battle for territory.
“I’d expect that it’ll take around a month for his body to make a full recovery… It's the… the other two - his senses - I’m more worried about…b-but I promise I’m gonna do whatever I can for him to heal. He’ll need a lot of support though, and he’ll probably require help with, well, everything, for a while” Chopper lowers his head, “That’s all for now, I hope you’re all up for all of that.”
“Of course we are,” Franky salutes, “we’ll always help Luffy-bro in any way we can!”
“T-there’s one other thing, though…” Chopper’s back to eyeing his own notes, particularly the red ink section. Throat hoarser than before, he glances up, and whispers, “...Zoro, can you come with me? I need to talk with you, alone.”
Something unsettled stirs in Zoro’s heart, prods and pokes at his gut in ways that have his intestines snaking up, tying themselves into knots. Silent in slipping away from the crowd - who are now locked in a discussion about ways they can individually help Luffy, he follows Chopper up the stairwell, then ducks behind Nami’s tangerine trees so their words won’t be overheard.
Once they’ve reached a place of privacy, Chopper discards his notepad on a nearby bench, and swivels around.
“Did Luffy say anything… concerning ... to you when you got him?” Comes a whisper that Zoro wasn’t expecting.
“Such as?” He presses further, toward whatever truth Chopper is poorly concealing.
“Anything related to injuries he may have sustained, or, um, certain experiences he may have gone through?”
Zoro scours his mind… had Luffy said much of anything? All that comes to mind is his rapid switch between relief over Zoro’s presence to outright denying his existence, but he can already tell that isn’t the information Chopper’s looking for; the seeking look in his eyes speaks of much deeper meaning, for validation of something unholy.
There’s something venomous underneath his feet. All he needs to do is dig his hand in and rip it from the roots, in one fatal swoop.
“What are you hiding from us?”
With that, Chopper’s composure breaks into pieces. Tears stream down his furry cheeks, his mouth screws up into a pained grimace, and his entire being reeks of misery. A sob forces its way out of his throat, and another, until he’s crying openly, furiously wiping away his sorrow only for another tidal wave of devastation to destroy it all.
“I-I’m so so sorry,” he wails, “I t-tried to keep it together b-but- I just can’t! You’ve known him for the longest out of all of us, so I figured it’d be best to tell you first. Luffy was… he was… violated, while he was incapacitated, they- they took advantage of him so many times and I don’t know what to do!”
Fuck.
Zoro had been expecting something awful, but not that. Never that. How could he ever dare venture into such territory as that and come out sane? It’s excruciating just to discover, to realise that the entire time in which they’d been meticulously planning for every little hitch and bump in the plan, the one they’d been heading out to rescue was being brutally tortured, leashed like some dog, and raped.
Zoro wants to take a sword to his own stomach out of shame.
How dare they. How fucking DARE they do that to his captain!?
Nearby, a seagull falls from the sky, knocked out by a burst of untamed, writhing Haki.
The words of the Marine from before, now made utterly vile, haunt his mind on repeat:
'If he wakes up, make sure to let him know; it was a real fun ride~'
All of a sudden, Zoro finds he’s sitting on the bench, holding his head in his hands, more lost than he’s ever been before.
“This… this is fixable, right?” His hoarse rasp sounds like a kid that’s been separated from their parents, adrift out on the open ocean, completely helpless against the elements. “It can be fixed… it has to be fixed.”
Chopper, still shivering, sits down next to Zoro. For a long time, neither say a word and just stay beside each other, not coping with the new weight they are both crushed under.
“I can mend the physical damage they gave him,” Chopper whispers, “but I saw him when you were bringing him back and- he looked so scared. I’ve never really seen him like that before. I’m.. I’m really worried… A long time ago, Doctorine taught me this: some scars take a long time to disappear, and they can still hurt even after the wound is healed. Kind of like how an amputated limb gets phantom pain. The same goes f-for minds. Luffy might still be in pain even if I fix all the damage, just like how I was b-before he healed the scar on my heart. Doctorine called it ‘trauma’. ..” Chopper’s words hitch, and he has to take several deep breaths before continuing, I’m… I don’t have experience with trauma patients, a-and I’ve never had to deal with those sorts of wounds either, but on paper, I know the method. I’ll do my best.”
Another wound festers in Zoro’s insides. A stake has been forced straight through his heart. It’s as though he’s a vampire with garlic shoved down his throat and a steady stream of sunlight burning into his retinas. Every small thought of what Luffy went through screeches in his mind, agonising his memories with accusations of ‘you should have gotten there sooner!’ and ‘this is all your fault!’
Luffy deserves nothing but the best, yet consistently over the years life has beaten him down again and again, and Zoro’s nothing but a bystander. Despite all his efforts to protect his captain, in the end, it was all for nothing. He has failed. Luffy has been ruthlessly assaulted as a result of his inability to defend who he has sworn to protect.
Zoro tries to speak, but his throat is a desert, denying him words. Then he glances up and sees a portrait of similar self hatred painted across Chopper’s face, a curse and burden they all share, yet only he deserves to carry.
He has to make sure; Chopper cannot blame himself, he is not the one responsible, Zoro is.
“Chopper,” He says, teetering on every syllable, “you’re not the doctor of our crew for nothing. You were able to keep me alive after Thriller Bark happened; you’ll be able to keep Luffy safe too. If you’re worried about the-” Zoro struggles to find the words; they turn to ash on his tongue “the trauma or somethin’ - I’ll handle it. Don’t really know how or what I’m supposed to do, but I’ll do it. I’ll keep him safe, I swear on my life those bastards won’t get to him ever again.”
Chopper perks up slightly, his ears pricked and a slight bloom of confidence flourishing in his eyes. A smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes illuminates his face for a brief moment, then is vanquished by another maelstrom of anxious energy, casting a dark spell on the ocean around him. Sunny herself creaks, whines and groans in fear for what may be racing through her crew’s minds.
“Well, if you have any ideas of what might be, um , triggering for him, that’d help.” He offers. At Zoro’s blank, questioning stare, Chopper hastily clarifies. “I mean like, things that he seemed scared of at the time of the rescue.”
“There were a few things,” Zoro contemplates, forming an internal list of all the oddities Luffy had displayed. Damnit, looking back makes that whole day so much worse in retrospect. The fact that Luffy was stripped bare at the time, how all the blood had congregated specifically on the chair beneath him, how his legs were splayed out in a way that made him look... If Zoro was a smarter man, maybe things would have clicked into place right there, but no, it’s taken an entire week for all the pieces to align into one gruesome picture.
“Didn’t seem fond of being placed on a bed. Started muttering shit like ‘not again’. ” Zoro half-murmurs, downcast, “And… didn’t like being held… touched.” He winces at the implications- no, the facts. None of this can be assumed or stretched to a semi-truth, Chopper has stated everything so far as exactly what he’s discovered. There’s no mystery to be solved - those vile, scum of the earth marines had abused Luffy in ways no one ever should be, left him afraid of touch even from his own friends thanks to their disgusting manipulation. And there’s nothing Zoro can do to undo the damage.
Luffy’s never been someone who struck out to him as interested in sex of any capacity. Unlike love-cook, who makes comments on the regular about any woman he happens to cross paths with, Luffy seemed wholly uninterested, perhaps even purposely averse to any lustful desires set upon him. Zoro remembers one time they ended up at a bar, and some woman ended up getting far too friendly with Luffy. He had all of a sudden hopped from his seat and stayed close to Zoro for the rest of the night, obviously not caring to deal with whatever she wanted from him. Now, his autonomy and choice over participating in such acts has been stripped away from him.
“That’s going to be a problem,” Chopper admits in response, “he’s going to be on bedrest for at least a week. And there’s not much I can do about touch aversion either. He’ll definitely need physical therapy to help his legs and arms make a recovery, and with all the medicines I need to give and the fact he’ll need help with bathing…. Damnit, all of these things and there’s n-nothing I can do.”
“We’ll figure it out. I can be there for him, make it a little easier on the both of you,” Zoro reassures despite the growing pit in his own stomach, “Are you gonna tell the whole crew?”
“No,” Chopper shakes his head, “not yet. I’ve read about it - victims sometimes feel embarrassed or ashamed after going through t-things like this. I’m worried that if everyone knows about it, he’ll start closing himself off from us.”
Zoro’s chest violently pangs. Victim. That’s the word Chopper just used in relation to Luffy. A victim, is that what his captain has become now, all because of Zoro’s negligence?
This just can’t be happening…
“I’ll keep it close.” He promises, “If anyone starts asking, I’m just doing my duty.”
“Right,” Chopper nods, “and… one more thing… Last week, on the ship, Robin ended up, um, finding something in the pockets of one of the guards,” He brings out a small notebook from his satchel and lifts it up into the light, “she read the first page and gave it to me- it’s a log, regarding Luffy’s capture. It’s mainly how I discovered the drug - I didn’t recognise the name they gave at first, but after scouring through some documents I found a few references to it and was able to identify a treatment plan. The reason I haven’t shown this to anyone else is the same - I don’t think Luffy would want all of us reading it, considering some of the contents,” he shivers, “but since you want to help him, it’s best you hold onto it.”
“I’ll read it later,” Zoro says, taking the wretched book and stuffing it away, out of sight and out of mind, in his haori. Once he finds time and a good amount of silence, he’ll open it up, see for the world all the little ways whoever was writing tried to justify Luffy’s treatment. He wonders whether they erased all mention of the assaults, whether they treated it as simply another tactic to break their enemy, or if they pretended not to know. Either way, the book reeks of something potent, and it isn’t just the blood of the one who wrote it.
Those bastard marines won’t get away with what they’ve done.
Once the conversation has finally closed, Zoro turns, marches for the infirmary, ignores the way that wounds from two years ago bleed openly once more, and vows: he will make Luffy better.
Through whatever means possible.