Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece.

Anchor

Zoro missed this.

Sleeping inside of the crow's nest of the Thousand Sunny while on lookout duty. To anyone other than his mates, he might've appeared to be slacking on the job—that was true to an extent. But ever since he learned about haki, Zoro now understood why he could sense the presence of others, despite the dark; despite napping in the dead of night while his mates slept like babies in their beds, content in the knowledge that he would look out for them.

Well, most of his mates.

Zoro opened his eyes, though it was as reluctant as a boulder pulled uphill. He felt the roaming company of their resident archeologist, Nico Robin. Her presence—like all of the other Strawhats—was distinct enough for him to never forget. Luffy was a perpetually shouting, meat-eating explosion. Fire recklessly turned the world into day. Just being around him made his blood pump harder in his veins. Sanji was different. His company made adrenaline gush forth; river water forced through a narrow sieve. Everything was a competition, especially fights. Who could finish the most, the fastest, and with the least amount of injuries? Even Dracule Mihawk had a clear-cut aura. It was like having someone with black-bottled anger looming behind you in an alleyway. Silent and terrifying. He held an unfathomable power that he never fully showed.

Robin's, on the other hand, was the only one that made his blood settle. Like an old, favored book tucked away. The barest whiff of lilacs. Candlelight that illuminated a dark corner, bending for the most minute of instances to command his attention just long enough to reveal to him something he'd never thought to look at before. Robin valued learning, and it was as if that single trait had bled into her very pores. Having her near made his veins stop throbbing and his breaths ease like the torpid joy he felt whenever he mindlessly swung his sword for practice. Zoro didn't know if that was what other people called peace, but it felt a lot like it.

He'd never told her this of course. Besides, he had a feeling that she somehow knew. Robin knew everything—damned eavesdropper.

Zoro looked up.

The moon was fat tonight. Moonlight shined white and gleaming, staining the leading sea purple and navy. He got up to look towards where he felt Robin's presence. She paced around restlessly for a while, before heading into the bathroom. Each stream of light was syrup-thick as they bled into the windows foggy panels. When Zoro angled his head just so, he saw Robin beyond the steam, taking a midnight bath. He'd seen her do this enough times to know that she had a nightmare, courtesy of her time spent on the run as a child.

He could only wonder about the hardships she endured then. He'd tried asking once before only to get a snide remark that had him rolling his eyes. Zoro still remembered the ambiguous smile she shot him, before she sauntered off to find Luffy because if there was one thing they all knew, it was that Luffy's grin eased all bruises. He was a loved captain that loved ten times in return. No one could deny that.

Still, a part of him couldn't help but feel shame to know that she was haunted—even now. Friendship could cure many ails, could scab over wounds too raw to touch. But only time could turn those grievances into scars. Lines of grotesquely healed flesh that still throbbed if pressed without care. He knew that feeling well. But Robin was so much smaller and so much softer than him. She always kept herself groomed to perfection. It was easy to forget about her age or the fact that she'd lived through so much.

Most people simply wrote him off as a muscle head. He was to a large degree, but that didn't mean he never ruminated over his actions, as well as the actions of his captain, who needed a stern talking to every now and again. Introspection had always been a part of him—had been since Kuina's death. He'd dream of her sometimes. The illusions would be mostly forgotten when he awoke, but his soul remembered. His chest would stutter with sorrow at the unreachable happiness within the dream. Loops of imagined memories that would never be real.

It was funny though, how years of fighting, of bleeding, of his muscles and determination being stretched and drained of all of their worth—all of it so easily smoothed by this: Robin's presence beside him. Her hand limp in his own.

Wait… Zoro blinked blankly at the sight of their intertwined fingers. What the—

"You looked like you needed comforting," came her familiar, velvet voice. She squeezed his hand. "Is everything alright?"

He shrugged her off. "What are you doing here?"

"Keeping you company."

"It's not that I couldn't sleep. You woke me." He clicked his tongue. "So, what are you doing up?"

"Hmmm… I wonder."

Zoro's gaze rose to find her smiling at him. It was kind, if not a little strained, indicating that she wasn't in the mood to talk about her night terrors—not tonight. Her hair was still damp. It dripped beads of water on the floorboards. She wasn't wearing much. Only an overshirt that looked like it once belonged to a man—who, he didn't know. But it looked suspiciously like the kind Luffy's brother wore. He didn't dwell on it. He forced himself not to. There were more pressing concerns. Like his bruised ego. Because there was no way she could've gotten so close to him without him sensing her presence. Absolutely none.

His eyes trailed behind her to find that the lights in the bathroom across the ship were still on.

A clone then, Zoro decided. One to watch over him as he did her whenever they were in the midst of battle. Did she just make it appear?

Zoro looked at her, and he had the good fortune of having her eyes fix on him like nothing else in the world mattered. Perhaps to this clone, nothing did. He registered new scars on her limbs. Some were faint, indicating that she had been treated almost immediately. Others, like the ones she bore on her back from protecting the Surgeon of Death in Dressrosa, were likely more pronounced.

Those were remnants of the crew's inability to protect her—no, that was wrong. She didn't need protection. Not really. She'd get angry at him for even suggesting it. A testament of her strength then. Her loyalty to the crew and her conviction that they wouldn't let her die. All it took was a look from Luffy, and she had put her body on the line for a man she didn't trust. She did it out of instinct. Out of nothing more than the realization that Luffy would be sad if anything were to happen to Trafalgar Law. That kind of unshakable loyalty couldn't be faked. It was a bond forged by blood, steel, and fierce love.

And if nothing else, she deserved his mind's respect for it.

Robin laughed when he continued boring holes into her. As if she could be intimidated. She clearly knew that he was in thought, and dissecting his whirring mind looked to be at the top of her agenda tonight.

"I brought you a drink," Robin said, revealing a bottle that she had hidden behind her. "Wait for me to get out of the shower. We can share."

How was that fair? He couldn't say no to alcohol… though he wouldn't have said no if she asked to stay with him in the crow's nest in the first place.

"What are you playing at?" Zoro asked suspiciously. He nicked the bottle from her hands to look at the label. "This is good stuff. Expensive stuff. Where'd you get it?"

"I took it from Dressrosa."

When did you have time to snatch this? He wanted to ask, but settled instead for saying, "If you expect me to loosen my tongue for your entertainment, then you're gonna need a few more bottles."

"I'll bring more when we finish it."

Zoro smirked. "You better bring out your whole stash. I want to drink this already. The real you still in the shower?"

"On the deck," she said, before disappearing in a flurry of petals.

Zoro looked down from his perch to find Robin looking up and waving her hand high above her head. She wore the same thing her clone did, although her hair was noticeably drier. It didn't take him long to reach her. Half a minute to slide down the mast, and another to cross the distance between them. He took a swig from the bottle as soon as his feet hit the deck.

"A quarter?" she muttered, as he handed her the bottle. "How could you already finish a quarter while walking towards me?"

The words were exasperated, but her tone was anything but. On the contrary, Robin donned a starlight grin that made him wonder what in the world she was so excited about. Was drinking with him really that fun?

"Don't complain," Zoro warned. He joined her where she leaned against the ship. "So, why'd you lure me here?"

"It's nice—having someone to enjoy the night with." Robin drank, a thousand times more graceful than him, before offering him the bottle. "It chases away certain… voices."

That was a tender spot if he'd ever heard one. Zoro observed her grip tighten over the bottle. Knuckles stiffened, grieving for a lost childhood that he knew only glimpses about.

Zoro wasn't gentle. He wasn't sure he knew how to be, but just this once, for her, he tried.

He took the bottle from her and replaced it with his hand. She looked at him, shocked by the gesture, before she smiled in that way of hers that had him questioning whether it was real. Her grip was still taut with heartache. Her knuckles clenched so hard around his that they hurt; the only tether in a wavering world of unpleasant memories that demanded too much, too soon from a little girl whose mind, nor body could handle the strain. But things were different now. She was different.

She had…

Yes, this is what she'd been missing these two years.

Zoro watched as Robin breathed, slow and measured, as if testing how the night felt now that she had gotten a grasp of what it felt like to be at once the controlled and the controller of such immensity. To bear the weight of a past life with someone that—didn't understand, but—cared about her making it back across the shore to sail away with him.

Unshed tears stung her eyes. Before he could stop himself, he let go of her hand in favor of ruffling her hair. She was so damn tall that he felt a little inadequate, but the emotion was promptly crushed because of the situation. Distractedly, he noticed that it had gotten longer. Zoro's fingers flitted downward to tuck a few wayward strands behind her ear. The unrelenting moon limned her eyes, scalding them bluer than the sea.

Robin bent, then leaned forward. Chest against his. Arms wrapped around his neck. She whispered words meant only for his ears—soft and exhausted; clear and devoted. Relieved. It was a declaration that gave his heart back its beating.

"I'm glad that you're here," she said with more weight than two separated years could ever hope to bring. "I'm so tired of doing this alone."

Zoro's eyes widened when he processed her voice, laced with enough gratitude to stagger him. He almost dropped the bottle. Almost. Heat flooded his cheeks. Immeasurable warmth knocked bruises on his ribcage. Zoro shut his eyes in an effort to master the prideful thing in his chest—to no avail

A heart could only hold so many memories. He'd be lying though if he said he'd rather hold ones of a woman than of a battlefield. Thankfully, that wasn't an issue with her. They sailed the four blues and the Grand Line together after all. A different promise then. A promise to be an anchor that offered companionship and solace, rather than the quiet bliss of safety; a moor in an endless sea for weary ships to return home. But he wasn't as eloquent as others. His voice was powerful, but as far as he was concerned, it wasn't meant to stir anyone but the hearts of indecisive men.

He settled for something simple instead. Something more like him.

"We're all here for you," he said. His cheeks already blazed from those few words. "All you have to do is call."

The way she whispered his name then instigated a tender affection that he would spend decades failing to control.

A/N: Please review.