The swordsman can feel Sanji across the room, waiting, just like he would be if the situation was reversed.

He had seen him fall and now he was lying broken in bed probably looking like shit, because damn, that's what he felt like. There was something shameful about it…but at least he was alive.

The shit cook isn't being allowed to smoke in here if the light nervous tapings of foot against the infirmary floorboards are anything to go by.

He doesn't want to face the inevitable confrontation this one time…his eyelids are too heavy and he'll be at a disadvantage. He deserves the discomfort though…and suddenly can't slow his mind down at the number of questions he needs to ask. Some of which he can only ask the cook.

Before he could open his mouth to voice them the chef apparently had noticed his condition and after a long suffering exhale began to list off the very answers he was looking for.

"Everyone is okay. Luffy is bouncing around like nothing happened. You've been out for four days. Brook is with us now. No one knows what happened except you, me, and the shitty skeleton (who was apparently awake at the time). That about cover it Marimo?" He heard the blond stand warily from the chair.

"What about you?" Zoro frowned that he still couldn't seem to open his eyes and at just how bad his voice sounded. "Pissed?"

"Hell yeah, I'm pissed." Sanji murmured immediately with a seriousness that told Zoro he had been thinking about it more than he wanted to admit. "I'm more pissed I didn't think to knock your sorry ass out first though."

He finally managed to crack open an eye and was surprised to see the cook smirking at him from the door.

"You won't be so lucky next time shithead. No way I'm going to let you pull that shit twice." He promised over his shoulder before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

Zoro knew that of course. That's why he had to hurry up and get back to training-

So there wouldn't be a next time.