Bipalium: If you will feel like writing absolute heartbreaking drama; what if to write they got AIDS after all ;_; Fuck, I can't even think about it without being extremely sad, but I just wanted to say you this idea. Imagine: Zoro and Sanji both discovery their illness, but continue to live together happily to the rest of their lives… Everything even became surrealistic around them, Zoro dropped his work, they're doing some crazy things like, mm, dunno, running naked in the streets or something, care for nobody but each other. And they're very, very happy - that's important. In the end they *sob* lie peacefully in their apartment after making love, embracing each other and dying with smiles on both their faces.

Warning for character death.

Sanji stared at the capitalized letters at the top of the page. They spelled a word he'd heard and used himself a million times before, but he couldn't make sense of that word now. He could read it, he knew what it signified, but its true meaning was lost on him.

How had this even happened? Sanji hadn't always led his life on the straight and narrow; in his younger days he did what he pleased freely and without a thought about the consequences. Now they were glaring back at him on a sheet of paper and spelling out his future for him.

He looked up at Zoro. The green haired man was studying a paper of his own, with the same look of detached confusion on his face that Sanji felt. He felt a confusing mixture of sadness and relief. He felt terrible; frightened and angry that Zoro had to go through this as well. At the same time though, he felt an overwhelming sense of comfort and relief, knowing he wasn't alone in this.

He was the one that caused this, surely. Zoro had always led a disciplined life. Where Sanji had always been content to fool around and make the most of his freedom, Zoro had trained himself; mastering the sword at a level very few could compete with. He'd earned himself a title of world's greatest, all through his strict and dedicated living. Sanji could never hope to have achieved that level of greatness, not with his "all play and no work" mentality. This was the consequence of his actions, something he probably had coming, but Zoro…Zoro didn't deserve this.

Zoro looked from the paper now, meeting his eyes. Sanji expected a harsh glare and even harsher words. He expected insults, a punch in the face, probably murder when they got home. He deserved it, and he resigned himself to accept whatever Zoro decided to throw his way. It was the least he could do.

Zoro's eyes studied his for a moment before his face softened into something Sanji recognized all too well. It was a look Sanji had been lucky to receive many times over the course of the last few years. It was something he'd known he was lucky to be able to see; a look that changed everything in his life. Zoro was looking down at him with love and comfort.

The doctor started speaking, reciting off information and options in a disturbingly level and clinical voice. Sanji barely heard him through the rush of thoughts in his head. Thoughts about his life, thoughts about Zoro, and thoughts about their future flooded his mind and made the doctor's monotonic voice nothing more than white noise. He chanced a glance at Zoro and found him to be listening intently to the doctor's words. The small part of him that was still him, not someone caught up in a seemingly never ending spiral of regrets and worries, chuckled at how very like Zoro is was to listen so closely to information about his opposition. If Zoro could pick a fight with it, he surely would.

There was medicine; not a cure, but something that could keep them, especially Zoro, close to normal as long as possible. Sanji opted to take it. Zoro did not.

They fought. They exchanged words and blows until they were forcibly removed from the doctor's office and left out in the parking lot to gather themselves together. The fight didn't end there. It continued in the car as they drove home (though at least the physical aspect of their fight had stopped there for the moment). They argued, shouting and swearing all the way back to their apartment. Reason was lost on them, and Sanji realized their fight had stopped being about anything and had become a way to release their feelings on the only other person who would understand them.

They made love that night, Sanji apologizing to Zoro through gentle action and soft spoken words. Zoro reassured Sanji through firm touch and ground out words of reprimand and love. They reached an understanding, though neither side was entirely ready to give in to the other. That was the nature of their relationship though, and it was what grounded them when everything else seemed to spiral out of control.

They made calls the next morning. They'd both phoned in a sick day at work; though Sanji almost lamented the loss of their normal routine. They needed the free time for the day ahead of them, but that didn't make the prospect of it any easier to deal with.

Sanji called up past lovers, any he could remember, and friends from his…less than pleasant past. It was the past he thought he'd been long rid of ever since he met Zoro, but it had still managed to come back and haunt him in the worst ways.

Sanji's list seemed impossibly long, but Zoro's was much shorter. He had very few past relationships, and the majority of his list was made up of old opponents and sparring buddies that may have come into contact with his blood in their fights. However, although his list was shorter, Zoro was obviously struggling more with the calls than Sanji was. Sanji watched as he punched in a number, greeting the person on the other end of the line with a warm and familiar tone. He watched as Zoro set about explaining why he was calling, watched the light that had sparked in his dark eyes at the beginning of the call die out slowly. Sanji could hear the voice at the other end, something cold and bitter slithering out from the mouth of someone Zoro respected, looked up to, or had called a friend. He watched as Zoro apologized for something that wasn't his fault and hung up.

Sanji watched Zoro shake his head slightly, as if her were trying to remove the cold words the voice had spoken from his mind. He sighed heavily and crossed a name out on his list, moving on to the next number and punching it into his phone. Every phone call looked more difficult than the last, and Sanji had to resist the urge to try and apologize again.

Sanji had gotten sick a few weeks later. The doctor changed his medicine, upped the dosage or something, and prescribed Sanji a plethora of new pills to take as well. Sanji stared at them during breakfast one morning, willing them to disappear. He hoped if they would magically disappear he would realize this was a horrible dream, and he'd wake up. No such luck though; Zoro pushed the small pile of pills towards Sanji and commanded him with a look to take them

That night Zoro came home from work with a special announcement: He had quit his job. Sanji had been out of work for some time now, the risk of infection was too high and his illness made him too weak to keep up with the demanding pace of the kitchen. Zoro had been just fine though, and it was his money that was keeping the roof over his head.

Not only that, Zoro had loved his job. It had been one of his dreams until he'd finally gotten there. Sanji couldn't believe he had just quit out of the blue like that, and it made him angry. Zoro had lost enough because of him. Their friends rarely called, and Zoro had to resign from his sword fighting and surrender his title because of the risk he represented. Sanji didn't want to take Zoro's job away from him too.

Arguing was useless though, before he could even get two sentences into his tirade Zoro silenced him with a kiss. He assured Sanji that he was doing exactly what he wanted to with his life.

Zoro was taking Sanji to the beach. Never mind that it was winter or that the nearest beach was an entire day's drive away; Sanji loved the ocean and Zoro was taking him to see it. They'd pack the car with food and clothes for a couple of days (the plan was to stay in a small beach house Zoro had rented out for the weekend) and set out.

The drive was pleasant. There wasn't much traffic during the off season and they made good time, reaching their weekend retreat just as the sun was going down. Sanji wanted to get their home away from home set up, but Zoro didn't let him get farther than dumping the bags on the building's wraparound porch before he pulled him away from the house and down the beach.

The wind was cold and biting and Sanji shrugged his shoulders and buried his face into the collar of his jacket in an attempt to escape the frosty air. The water stretched out before them was slate grey and endless, choppy waters spotted with white caps stretching out towards the horizon. It looked eternal, wild, and free, and Sanji couldn't keep his eyes from it.

Zoro stepped up behind Sanji and wrapped his arms around him, helping to shelter him from the cold. He smiled when he noted the joy in the blond's eyes and couldn't help but ask a single question. It was the only question that mattered to him anymore.

"Are you happy?"

Sanji tore his eyes away from the view before him to meet Zoro's instead. Those dark eyes were worth a hundred oceans, and Sanji felt that this simple sight that he'd been lucky enough to see every day over the past years was the most beautiful he'd ever get to see in his entire life.

"Yes."

That night they made love on the floor of the beach house, a thin blanket the only barrier between them and the sandy, gritty wooden floorboards. The fire blazing in the fireplace was their only source of warmth from the chill that seemed to creep in through the walls. Still, Sanji knew he'd never, ever forget this moment.

Sanji hated the hospital. They assured him the longer he was there, the more used to it he would become, but he absence of Zoro lying next to him each night never stopped disturbing him. The days weren't so bad; Zoro arrived the moment visiting hours started and didn't leave until a nurse came along to shoo him out, but the time in between was the worst for Sanji.

Aside from Zoro, Luffy frequently paid Sanji visits in the hospital. Since he'd read those eight little letters that seemingly spelled out his life, Sanji had lost touch with a large majority of his friends. Some had spewed insults on their way out of his life, and a few had shared comforting words with the promise of always being there, but only Luffy had stayed. More than that, Luffy didn't act overly friendly or personally offended when Sanji had bumped into him at the grocery store, and Luffy never saw a need to talk to Sanji about his illness, unless Sanji wanted to.

Only once did Sanji have that conversation with the younger, overly energetic man.

"Take care of him?"

Luffy didn't ask who or why. He didn't ask for any clarification at all about the out of the blue question. He had surveyed Sanji with serious eyes, a rare expression for the young man, and nodded.

He replied in an equally serious tone, "I will."

Sanji hadn't eaten in a while. He didn't remember when the last time he'd had solid food was. Occasionally he let Zoro feed him ice chips, but even the slowly melting water in his mouth made him slightly queasy. His stomach couldn't handle anything anymore.

He slept most of the time. The pain medicine they used to keep him from suffering made him tired. He hated it; he hated waking up in the middle of the night to find Zoro gone. He hated knowing he'd left Zoro alone all day while he slept. But every day the cycle repeated.

"I'm sorry."

Zoro woke from his doze. He hadn't been sleeping as well since he'd started sleeping alone. Even sleeping in the uncomfortable chair beside Sanji's bed was more comfortable than trying to sleep on Luffy's couch by himself.

Zoro blinked himself awake, looking at Sanji in confusion. The blond's deep blue eyes were shining with unshed tears. Even now he could see Sanji try to blink them away, fighting against them to prevent them falling from his eyes. He had always been a stubborn idiot.

Zoro ran his hand through the golden hair on his head, and Sanji whimpered just slightly.

"I love you."

Zoro stood before the headstone. It was nearly buried under flowers from well-wishers and "friends" who hadn't spoken to Sanji since he'd spent the whole day making calls to them. They had been afraid, Zoro thought, but not all of them were bad.

The once freshly turned earth was starting to sprout grass. By the end of spring it'd be covered in lush, thick grass. Zoro had always loved the feel of the grass beneath his feet, but Sanji had always preferred water. He loved the sea, and Zoro was glad they had gotten to see it one last time before the end.

Zoro pulled out a bottle of water from his coat. It looked like common trash compared to the other gifts left by the headstone, but Zoro knew that if Sanji could see it, he'd like it better than the flowers. It was a bottle of sea water Zoro had brought back with him from that weekend at the beach. Sanji had loved it when Zoro put it on a shelf in their apartment, and Zoro knew Sanji would love to have it with him here as well.

Zoro set the bottle of water near the headstone and straightened up, admiring the way the sun refracted in the water, throwing tiny rays of light across the headstone.

Zoro looked down at the grave once more. It made him miss the blond all the more. He missed their fights, and running his hands through golden hair when he was the first to wake in the morning. He missed the passion he saw reflected in those blue eyes whenever Sanji spoke about something he cared about, and he missed the anger he could see flare in them when something set Sanji off. He missed the sound of his voice, slightly raspy from his smoking habit, but that only served to make it all the more beautiful. Zoro missed Sanji in bed with him, and missed his cooking in the morning. He missed the man he'd found to be his other half.

Zoro turned away from the headstone.

"I'll be right behind you."