Author's Note:

I suppose when you get an idea for a short, and it sticks with you for a few days, it's worth sitting down and wasting some time typing it. Right?

I'm not gonna talk your ear off about this story. No real pairings in this, though you could easily imagine there is I'm sure. Just a one shot. I wish this was comedy (what I prefer to write) but it seems to be quite the opposite. On with the show!

Her body shivered as the dust swirled around her, a sickening heat still present in the air even after the grotesque body of their Devil Fruit abusing attacker had fallen. Nami brought a hand up to her face to cough back at the dust, eyes pinched shut and stinging as her lungs burned with every breath she took. She could feel the world lurching about, though she knew that logically it was her own form that was swaying and not the world. Were it not for the Clima Tact, she no doubt would have hit the ground by now. Leave it to Usopp; he'd really made quite the versatile tool for her. Party favor, weapon, and now crutch. Bitterly she grinned at the thought, but as the smoke cleared, so did her mind. The full memories of the events that'd passed not even ten minutes ago seized the redhead, and now that sight was restored to her, so was panic. It was too quiet… she was the only one who'd been coughing… and she wasn't the only member of the crew who should be standing, bothered by the fickle particles. No… there should be…

"Sanji-kun?" She shouted out, looking for the chef in the shattered rubble of the aftermath of the fight. She didn't know where the rest of the crew was right now, for it'd been one of those situations where they'd all been broken apart, fighting battles in pairs and trios, Luffy no doubt tackling the biggest threat all on his own as he was stupidly prone to doing. Not that Nami could say too much this time… for she'd been alone when she'd been attacked, alone and on the defensive end of a lopsided battle. She'd come a long way from the girl she'd been, a long way from the little thief who needed to flee from every fight. She'd been victorious over a Devil Fruit user before, had she not? It wasn't just the Clima Tact, perfected with the dials, which had made her stronger. She was growing, just like the rest of the crew. However, as she stumbled and began to frantically search for the blond, she bitterly noted that it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. She knew her value to the crew didn't come from fighting strength, but damn it! Right now she was cursing the fact that she'd needed to be saved. Again.

"Sanji!" The level of her voice rose, and she didn't care at all about something trivial like sounding near hysterics for him. She struggled over slabs of stone that used to be solid walls; she kicked away at the wooden remains of furniture, and listened to the crackling of glass as her shaky steps crafted new cracks and fractures. Her entire body was consumed with worry and fear at the continued silence from her nakama, the pain that should accompany her wounds silenced by fretful adrenaline. If there was any way at all that Sanji could answer her, she knew he would! Never would he just ignore her unless there was some horrible, horrible reason. Had they not won after all? Had that freak gotten back up to go for another round against Sanji? Had a new threat jumped in to the mix, was his silence meant to try to hide her, so she didn't wander into the fight? Or did he not answer… because he couldn't? 'No!'

"Sanji answer me!" Her throat burned with the force of her shout, her eyes stinging now not from the remaining dust in the air but the building dread that clutched at her chest like a bony claw. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to call out again, when she heard it: a painful wheezing cough, somewhere to her left. It was followed by the sound of stone pushing against stone, and relief washed over Nami as she turned in time to see Sanji hefting a rather large stone slab off of himself with his legs, his body curling forward to crawl shakily to his feet after. There was a cloud of dust that swirled up to obscure him for a moment, and when it cleared, Nami's fears surged right back.

The cook was on his feet, yes, but his body sagged heavily against a tall piece of rubble, his hands and shoulders allowed all of his weight to be supported on the stone. His legs, those ridiculously powerful legs of his, were visibly shaking, as if they hardly contained the strength to keep him up much longer. It wasn't even the blood that sent the final chill down her spine though, and there was so much blood. He was covered in it, bathed in it, and while surely some of it had to be from their foe… if even half of it was the chef's then the blond was in serious trouble. What truly brought the contents of her veins to ice, however, was the look on his face. Absent was the look of determination Sanji wore into a fight, missing was the grim satisfaction he should have from winning this battle. There was nothing to his face… nothing. No anger, no pain, and no awareness of the world around him it seemed. He was missing… Sanji was missing from that expression. It was the best she could have explained it if she'd needed to.

The blond wasn't there, and she refused to acknowledge the shadow that seemed to be creeping upon him. "Sanji-kun!" she shouted, and her feet propelled her to his side in swift sure movements, movements her injuries should have prevented. She could feel the pain bite into her with each step she took, but it was all forgotten them moment she was at his side, and the moment she moved his weight and felt it sag upon her. She grunted as she attempted to support him off the rubble, biting the inside of her cheek as she strained to support his weight. With that frightening emptiness that seemed to have possessed the chef, some might have mistakenly assumed his body would feel just as light. But Nami's muscles strained and screamed at her and told her otherwise. Her injuries protested loudly at the corpselike weight that pressed down upon her. How could she be expected to support him when she'd been barely standing at the end of all this? It seemed impossible, and for a moment she feared that her strength was going to break, that the two would collapse to the ground at any moment.

"N-Nami… swan…?" The sound of his voice literally and figuratively pulled some of the weight off of her, and the corpselike burden was replaced by a shaking closeness. Sanji didn't move away from her, his arm still draped over her shoulder as she'd done before, and the rigid and tight tenseness she could feel radiating off of him told Nami clearly that even attempting to support himself was an ordeal. No doubt the fool didn't want to be supported by a woman here, didn't want to burden her. He couldn't crush his delicate flower like this! There was only one reason he probably didn't immediately stumble away. He was in pain; she could feel it seeping out of him even if he kept his jaw clenched tightly. The tremors of his body were barely restrained and kept under control at all, and Nami took in a deep breath when the blond unwillingly began to lean upon her a bit more once again. "Are you… alright…?" The words were pulled out of him with great force, as if the cook couldn't muster more than those few syllables. He nearly began to cough, and though Nami tightened her grip upon him, he held it back.

"Don't worry about me right now you idiot! We need to get you to Chopper!" She could only pray that the reindeer wasn't as seriously wounded at the cook.

The tight wince and the groan that followed her reply made Nami flinch in shock, almost causing the two to spill to the ground. A worried glance was shot to the blond, a gasp slipping past her lips at the tormented look that'd seized his eye. There was a troubled sort of desperation deep in that blue eye, and it was focused completely on the redhead. The blond held her gaze, lips moving slowly as he once more forced out the words. "Are you alright?" His hand moved to grab her arm, fingers weak and loose and the effort to make even this gesture apparently monumental. Nami shuddered and nodded her head, silenced by the look in his eyes. Some of his tension seemed to slip away at her answer, a tiny easing of the turmoil in his eyes.

It terrified her, and made her regret reassuring him.

"Good," he muttered, and his body seemed to slump more against her again, his head dropping to hang low on her shoulder. If everything were right with the world, Sanji should have been ecstatic to have his face so near to her breasts as it was now. He didn't even seem aware that they existed though, and what would have made Nami relieved any other day sent off warning alarms in her mind.

"We have to move," she shot out abruptly, tightening her hold on the blond. "Come on Sanji… I need you to walk with me… I can't get us out alone… help me here…" Her voice was desperate, a ploy to keep him here with her. His tall lanky form seemed to pull itself together a bit, almost like it was an instinct to obey her voice even if his mind was gone. But while he still had to rely upon her, his head gave a delayed but shallow nod. Nami choked down a dry swallow, and started to draw them along. Each step they took together seemed to be accompanied by a long pause, the blonde's shallow breathing counting away the seconds between each stride they made. If there were any battles still being fought, they were too far away to hear even the remotest sounds from it. There was only the sound of two people straining, their mingled breaths, and their slow shaky steps.

When Sanji seemed to start dragging one of his legs, his attempted steps uneven and sloppy, Nami stopped them. She debated if it'd be wise to let them pause to rest, wondered if she'd be able to get them both back to their feet again if they sat down for even a moment. She chewed on her lip for a moment, acutely aware of the sweat or possibly blood that was trickling down her temples, along the sides of her face. Even stopping to contemplate this had been dangerous and stupid she realized, finding her protesting muscles already completely unwilling to resume their march. Sanji was, thankfully, still somewhat supporting himself… but how much more could he take? "Sanji-kun… I'm going to kneel down… here we go… careful…" She coaxed the two of them down, guiding Sanji's body to lean back against the remnants of a bench. His head fell, chin hitting his chest almost immediately, and it looked as though he'd passed out. Nami almost opened her mouth to speak, but held it in for a moment, taking in a deep breath for herself instead.

Her hands, shuddering as they were, reached down to her feet, touched upon her sandals. Most times… they suited her just fine. She could run in them, kick in them, climb about and do anything she needed to. But these sandals had a bit of a heel to them, a bit of platform. Nothing significant, but she was finding it worked against her attempts to support the blond. The even mild heel demanded more of her balance than she could give as Sanji lost the strength to support himself more and more. It caused strain on her legs where her muscles weren't suited to deal with it. It would be easier to support him if she took the sandals off and left them behind. Her eyes trailed over the road ahead of them with worry though. While they were steadily getting out of the ruinous aftermath of the battle, there was still quite a bit on their path that'd be difficult and painful to walk across barefoot. Was it an advantage to lose the shoes, or would the pain and potential cuts to her feet actually cause more strife?

The silence from the blond prompted her to make up her mind more quickly than she would have liked, and she yanked the sandals off, crouching by Sanji again and placing his arm over her shoulder again. It would have been comforting if she'd found him with his eye closed, if he'd fallen asleep, but the fact that the whole time he'd been simply staring blankly ahead was no good thing. More alarms went off in her mind, and with determination she started trying to lift them to their feet. She groaned though, as her legs felt like burning piles of jelly, as they failed to get any closer to standing. "Sanji-kun, come on… up we go…" She wouldn't be able to get them up again if he didn't, at least in some small way, assist. Even with the Clima Tact in her other hand to use as a walking staff, the redhead was too spent to do it all alone. There was that delay again before he seemed to act, but Sanji did as she asked, made to rise as well as he could. She noticed that the leg he'd begun to drag wasn't used at all as they made their way up, and she wondered at the damage to it. She wondered at what sort of wounds were hidden by his tattered dark suit.

"Nami-san… your shoes?" His voice was vague and unexpected, and though they'd already taken at least twenty paces away from their resting point, Nami paused slightly to look back over her shoulder at them. As she'd feared, her feet were already split open, cut on the soles from steps upon broken glass and shards of stones as they made their trek slowly for the Sunny. Every step drove dirt and debris into the wounds, stinging through her, making the task of supporting them both that much harder. But she wasn't going to complain, and she wasn't going to give up! She could be the strong one here; she could pull him out of danger and back to safety. She could be an idiot and ignore her injuries to try and save her nakama!

"You can buy me a new pair later!" She snapped at him, though it lacked her usual tyranny. Nami was reaching, reaching for everything she could use to tether him to her right now. She thought, just maybe, she saw the ghost of a smile hit his bloodied lips.

"Hai, Nami-san…" His voice was tiny, but it was as if he were truly happy. He had to be delirious.

The smell of salt water began to fill the air, and the distant sight of that straw hat wearing Jolly Roger waved to them like a beacon. It was still far, so far, but it gave Nami hope. "Almost there Sanji… see? The Sunny's just up ahead…" The blonde's head struggle to rise, the cook lifting his gaze and staring up and out towards the emblem of their captain, at the sigil of their ship and the rallying point of all their combined dreams. She watched his eye widen just slightly, and the expression that flashed through it was filled with a sort of wistful longing. For just a moment, Nami saw determination enter Sanji's eyes again, she saw a bit of that spark filling it up, making the blue look like the sparkling sea rather than a dull dusty blue stone. Her heart began to race as she felt some of his weight lift off of her, felt her spirit jump as he began to place his weight on his one good leg and take it from her shoulders. He took all of his weight off of her, turning his head to look at her, casting a doting smile upon her. Though his movements were sluggish and clumsy, the gesture still managed to come off as that foolish gentleman that Sanji always tried to be. He swept his arm out, gesturing towards the distant and mostly still unseen Sunny, as if he would bow to allow 'ladies first'.

"You're almost there… Nami-san…"

"Eh?" Nami blinked, Sanji's words ringing strangely in her ears. His gaze held to her for only a couple heartbeats more, before his body seemed to go boneless, the blond slumping down to the ground in a heap. Nami let out a cry and immediately fell to her knees, ignoring the shattering pain that hit them as bone hit solid ground. Kneeling she shook the blond, pulling him so that he was lying on his back, shifted him to rest his head in her lap. Her hands fumbled over him, ineffective in her stunned panic, made useless as her mind screamed at her that Sanji had just died! Tears tumbled out of her eyes as incoherent mumbles and choked out half words sputtered from her lips. Hiccupping sobs shook her shoulders and hitched her breath. Somewhere in her mind, Nami was yelling at herself, telling her to get a grip! Slowly that part of her started fighting out through the shock, and started trying to force down the overwhelming guilt that was starting to seize her. This… it was bringing on terrible flashbacks, making her remember again the loss of Bellemere, making her ache at the thought of someone else losing their life for her.

"Get up right now!" She shouted at him, not caring even for a moment how frantic her voice sounded, not caring to put up appearances right now. She couldn't stop the tears, and she didn't care to… because they were his fault! So he should damn well see them! He should open his eyes right now and see them! "Open your eyes!" She shrieked, near hysterics, ready to slap the blond if it would only wake some sense into him. Sanji stirred, his eye opening slowly, staring up vaguely. She didn't let herself feel any hope yet though… not this time. She almost looked angry in her determination. He caught her eye and she forced her gaze into his, willing some invisible force to trap him there. "Get up," she said, her voice holding a bit more control, almost sounding a bit bitchy if you wanted to nit pick. "I didn't carry you this far for you to drop now!" She reached over and gave his hand a squeeze, perfectly aware of the tears that continued to flow from her eyes.

His hand squeezed hers back, albeit weakly, and he seemed to want to melt on her. "Ah mellorine…" he sighed out as if in a daze, staring up at Nami with only the shadows of hearts upon his eyes. "Nami-swan is so lovely when she's demanding…"

Had it been any other time, she might have rolled her eyes. But she feared it… feared that if she broke eye contact he'd slip right away from her. Slip away forever. It would be her fault. This made her shoulders shake, her grip on his hand tightening to a potentially painful level, but she didn't care. Let him warn her to be careful about his precious hands, let him dare! So long as he seemed alive and fighting she'd tolerate a bit of back talk. The way he didn't move, only watched her, made the tears keep coming that much harder, and when he spoke again she really did almost slap him.

"Nami-san… you need to get back to the ship… it's dangerous…"

She brought her other hand up to her face, the palm of that hand pressing up to wipe at the tears in her eyes, nose sniffling nonstop against the snot that could easily join her tears in a trail down her face. She was not a pretty sight, but honestly, who the hell would blame her for that right now? She'd been hurt in a fight and now her friend… her nakama… was lying here dying and telling her to go… after he'd sacrificed himself by jumping into her fight. Her body shook violently for a moment, before she erupted in a childlike wail. "Why do you keep doing this!" Her voice sounded out through the silence around them, a cry declaring how unfair this situation was. How could this keep happening, how could he keep doing this to her! Her mind began to tick off the various times Sanji had thrown himself into danger and bodily harm for her sake. Her mind raced over every incident she could think of, from everyday battles, to her illness at Drum Island, when he'd broken his back for her. Ultimately, of course, her mind could never forget Enel… she let out another harsh sob. It wasn't precisely guilt that was making her react so strongly. Nami had always, despite her reputation for being cold hearted and purely self-serving, done what she could for her nakama. She took this vow just as seriously as the rest. But it still hurt! It still seemed unfair because it always seemed… like he specifically looked out for her. "Why do you always do this for me!"

She felt his fingers curl on her a bit more, and his eyes seemed sober and certain. "I would do it for each and every one of you… I would do it for everyone…" Laced with pain and weakness as it was… Nami's body went still for a moment at the sound of his voice. She could hear it, the sheer honesty and resolve in there. He meant it, he really would give his life for anyone on the crew… and she knew that… because she felt the same way. Maybe she wasn't a monster and a fighting genius like Luffy and Zoro and Sanji. She couldn't compare to Robin or to Franky even. She couldn't yell at him right now when she knew that even though it'd be harder for her to fight through her fear, it'd be more difficult for her to find the courage to stare death down for the sake of someone else… deep down she knew she'd still try, terrified and everything. It'd be harder for her to do it, and she knew she'd still always hope someone else could step in… but she still wouldn't ever abandon a nakama without acting. So how could she… how could she yell at him… how…

It might not have been the first time she cursed this stupid contagious bond inflicted upon them all by that one word Luffy was so fond of, but she cursed it right now. She cursed the word nakama, she cursed men like Sanji and Zoro and Luffy who could seem so careless in their willingness to put it all on the line every single moment. She cursed Sanji's stupid chivalry, and the favoritism that lurked behind his previous statement. She cursed it all, and when the fingers in hers went slack again, and that lone blue eye seemed to grow confused and detached again, she cursed at Sanji. She shouted any number of things at him, things that made sense or didn't make sense. She cursed him as she watched his eye fail to follow her, as if he couldn't even track the sound of the voice right above him. She might have shouted at him about All Blue, she might have yelled at him that Luffy would be hurt if he died. She might have shouted that the crew needed him to cook for them; she might have yelled that it was her duty to get him back to the ship alive.

Whatever she shouted, it was enough to catch the ear of Usopp, it was enough to attract attention, and it was enough to eventually pull the Strawhat Crew towards their position. It was not enough, though, to get him to look at her. By the time Chopper arrived, Nami was a sobbing howling mess, incoherent as she was pulled away to let the little doctor do whatever it was that he could now.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sitting on her deck chair, Nami wanted to be alone. The ocean breeze tossed her hair as the Sunny bravely sailed over the tossing waves, and the redhead was thankful that, at least for now, the weather of the Grand Line was behaving. There was nothing to say that would last even a minute more, but so it went. She sat up on the deck, letting the vast expanse of blue fill her eyes, not even bothering to look down at the Pose on her wrist for now. It'd be a long while yet before they reached the next island, and she couldn't seem to bother to care for a moment if they were lost for a short while. Irresponsible, yes, but she had been off since they'd set sail from that last island. Off since the incident with Sanji. It wasn't her lingering wounds, the pain in her feet still, that made her this way.

The crew had mostly seemed to go back to normal, which frustrated her in a small way. It was annoying that she was the only one who seemed changed and this troubled after that island, how she was the only one still, even now, hung up on that event. They hadn't been there though… they hadn't been the one to have Sanji come leaping to their aid. They weren't the one who'd been at his side, watching him dying away on her. She closed her eyes, bringing a hand up to clutch at her hair in frustration for a moment, trying to will herself not to think on that day again. No one was mentioning it, no one was talking about it, and people were giving her plenty of space right now. Usopp and Chopper even seemed downright scared of her. But there was one person on the ship who seemed to completely refuse to treat her any differently. Just one. Even Luffy had seemed different, and that made it just that much tougher to get over it somehow.

She heard a door open, and a small commotion begin somewhere else on deck. She tried to shut it out and tried even more to shut out the sound of steps coming towards her on the deck. Her heart started to beat faster, and her body tensed as if she could will away what was about to happen.

"Nami-swaaaaaaaan! I've brought your drink for you! Please drink it and think of my love for you!" With a series of pirouettes and rubbery leaps, Sanji landed before her on one knee, as princely as he could be, holding up the tray with her drink on it as though it were Cinderella's slipper or an engagement ring. Nami stared at him coolly, at the one idiot on the ship who was refusing to treat her differently. Hearts radiated up at her from his eyes like always, as if this were any other day. Her drink was the only one on the tray, meaning he'd served Robin before her. She stared at him, stared at the way bandages still laced his body, knew that his suit with its long sleeves did much to hide how battered he was because of her. He shouldn't even be up yet, in her opinion. He wasn't as strong as Zoro or Luffy, but he was up like a fool and cooking for everyone and laughing and smoking and just being Sanji. It was like it hadn't happened, or as if it'd been no big deal.

"Thank you Sanji-kun," she said rather indifferently, taking the fruity and rather daintily presented drink from the tray. He gushed out various 'you're welcomes' at her, holding the now empty tray to his chest and still beaming bright pink hearts of love at her. Possibly, he was waiting for her to taste his creation, and Nami obliged if it would only make him go away and leave her be. The scent of citrus hit her nose before the drink hit her lips through the straw, the chilled liquid washing down her throat as she took a long careful sip. She closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. The drink was perfect. It couldn't have possibly been tailored for her tastes any better than it had been. It was a drink that on any other day she would have delighted in and thought about trying to find a way to drink it every single day. Even the presentation of the drink clearly had her in mind, so many hoops and jumps the cook went through just to please her. She didn't look at him, eyes opening back up to the sight of the ocean instead. "It's perfect… thank you…" Her voice was soft and quiet, as if the ocean breeze could simply carry it away before anyone could hear her.

"Please accept it… as my apology…"

The words caught her off guard, almost as much as the deep serious tones of his voice. She whipped her head around, finding him slightly nearer to her than he'd been. The tray was pressed to his chest, arms crossed over it, and with his legs together he bowed low, bowed low enough that even standing, his head was lower than hers despite her being seated. Her lips parted in confusion, her eyes looking into his, looking at the guilt and genuine remorse she could see in him. This was not the hormone driven laughing fool, this wasn't the short-tempered teen that liked to argue and fight. This wasn't even the little boy who still dreamed of All Blue inside of the tall and lanky blond. The look on his face was mature… adult… it was serious. It was, perhaps, the man Sanji would be in time… the man he could become if the ocean and the devils that sailed upon it didn't swallow him up first. She could see he truly was sorry… yet she could sense a deep pride under that, could feel a resolve unchanged.

"Apology for what?" She said softly. There was a bitter tone in her voice, even if she didn't want it there. He seemed to dip lower, his flexibility and balance making the gesture seem easy. His dropped his gaze for only a moment, before seeking out her eyes again. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, but didn't back away from the gaze.

"For being selfish," he said simply, before his eyes swept to her drink. Her own eyes did the same. She stared at the drink, at that perfectly customized drink. Perhaps there was nothing significant about being able to tailor it to her so perfectly. Perhaps it didn't technically mean that he could understand her feelings just as well as her tastes. The drink might not have shown that he understood her at all, but it might have as well. Perhaps he really did understand the burden he had nearly placed upon her… and maybe this apology wasn't just for the past, but for the future as well. You never knew what would happen, after all. He would probably try to save her again, over and over. The two looked back to each other, and without another word or gesture between them, Sanji rose from his bow, turned and walked away. Nami watched him go, watched even when he was out of sight, watched even when she heard his voice roaring about the 'shithead who needs to find somewhere else to sleep'.

It was then that she realized she too was being watched. Turning her head, she found Luffy gazing at her, perched at his usual spot. If you didn't know Luffy well, you might have thought his face looked sort of stupid and blank. It certainly lacked that uncanny exuberance for life that typically painted his features. But there was something in his eyes as he stared at her, that something that was a deep and important part of him. There was that look in his eyes, that look that only he, their captain, could ever truly have. She let her fingers curl around the drink in her hand for a moment before she took in a short breath. She brought a smile to her face, raising one hand to flash a 'thumbs up' to the rubberman. She punctuated it all with a singular nod of her head. There was a small pause, as if Luffy were weighing the gesture, before his face broke out into that wide grin of his, a smile so wide it nearly forced his eyes closed. It was the smile that meant he knew that his crew was ok again… and if Luffy knew it… then what could Nami really do?

If Luffy thought she was ok, then maybe she was. His strange way of perceiving the truth of the world was sometimes baffling in just how accurate it could be. Letting out a sigh, she leaned back, bringing the drink to her lips and smiling in a rather resigned way about things. It was more than a giant pain to have so many idiots on this ship willing to die for each other. But… at the same time… she had to remember the bright side of it all… remember that she was fortunate to find so many people here who would do it without a second thought. At the end of the day, wasn't she one of those idiots too? She chided herself for a moment, and let her attention turn back to the wind and the weather. Next time… if there was a next time… she'd make sure to charge more than an apology and a drink.