Chapter Text
Chopper hated seeing his crewmates sick or in pain, but it was his job to be the ship’s doctor. So he healed their hurts and worried quietly while he did.
It was no easy task. Injuries occurred frequently on any ship: rope burns and splinters, crushed fingers and gorged bits of flesh. Broken bones and more gruesome wounds came hand in hand with storms at sea. Illness spread quickly in close quarters, and all of this was without accounting for the constant danger the crew found themselves in as they chased their dreams.
Even the length of time that stretched between the islands they visited was a hazard. Supplies were something to be rationed where possible, kept safe and secure, always balancing between the need to do a thorough job and the need to stretch the last role of bandages for another week. Improvised medical supplies could only get Chopper so far. Then there was the crew.
Chopper despaired at his crew’s apparent lack of self-preservation.
Some were better than others. Like him, Usopp and Nami had a healthy dose of fear that meant they avoided danger rather than run headlong into it. Brook claimed to be the same, but he was just as reckless as the rest of them.
The reindeer pressed his forehead against his hooves, hunching over where he sat at his desk. The Thousand Sunny creaked around him, wood pushing against the confines Franky had trapped them in and their constant beating by the elements. Chopper’s ears flicked.
The book where he kept Luffy’s medical records was open in front of him. Dust drifted from the pages, making him sneeze. The infirmary needed a good clean, another task to add to his unending list. Perhaps Robin would help. Her many hands often made quick work of such things, which often allow Chopper to focus on more important matters – like detailing how he had treated his captain’s latest bout of injuries after he had jumped overboard to chase a school of fish.
Zoro had rescued Luffy while Sanji had cursed him out. Their captain had simply laughed, holding up his catch by the tails, as Chopper fretted over where their sharp spines had cut the rubber man. Each fish had almost been the size of Chopper in Brain Point, flashing silver in the sun.
Spined fish were could be venomous but it seemed they had been lucky. Still, the doctor had made sure to wash Luffy’s wounds thoroughly. The fish themselves had been relinquished to the aquarium until they could be identified. A rudimentary drawing of one stared up at him from the pages of his book. It sat next to the previous entry outlining how the captain had gained a face full of splinters after launching himself and Usopp from the mast into a pile of old crates.
Chopper loved his crewmates, but sometimes he wanted to shake them until they stopped being so stupid. The constant stress was not good for his heart.
A knock at the infirmary door had the reindeer’s head jolting up.
“Sanji!” he cried in greeting as the cook stepped into the room, a tray in hand.
The blond smiled at him. “Have you had a break?” he asked, the heels of his black shoes clicking against the floor.
Chopper bit his lip, doing his best to supress a grin as he smelled the tell-tale mix of sweet and sour that heralded the cook’s lemonade. “I was going to take one now,” he said, making room for Sanji to place his drink on the desk.
The cook grunted, ruffling the reindeer’s head when he reached for the glass of lemonade. Sanji eyed the newest entry in the open book. “You figured out what those fish were?”
Chopper shook his head. “Maybe someone will know at the next island.”
“Yeah.” The man sighed. “Make sure you go outside for some air.”
Chopper hummed, savouring his drink, certain that extra sugar had been added just for him. “Thanks, Sanji,” he said, turning to face the cook.
Sanji grinned down at him, tucking his now empty tray under one arm. A red patch of skin on the cook’s thumb caught Chopper’s eyes. He frowned, reaching out towards it.
“What happened?” he asked. The skin looked painful and shiny, much like a burn.
“It’s nothing,” Sanji said, waving the question away. “Knocked it against the kettle when it almost slid off the bench.”
As if punctuating the man’s story, the ship pitched left leaving Chopper to lunge for the books and instruments on his desk.
“Sea’s getting choppy,” Sanji remarked, his own hand having reached out to steady the drink he had brought. “We might be due a storm.”
Chopper squeaked, not a fan of the terrible weather that tore through the Grand Line. Sanji laughed.
“Don’t worry. The lovely Nami will get us through fine like every other time.”
“I-I’m not scared,” Chopper protested, even as his heart fluttered in his chest. He looked around the room, mind already turning to what he needed to secure as he absently took a sip of the drink placed back in front of him.
The ship pitched again, the other way this time. Sanji’s foot prevented Chopper’s chair from rolling away. The sudden sound of cascading rain begun outside. Water streaked against the glass of the porthole.
“Do you need a hand in here?”
Chopper shook his head, gulping the rest of the lemonade as fast as he could. Sanji took his empty glass as the doctor leaned down to check his drawers were secure. “Thanks Sanji, but I’m okay,” he said.
The cook shrugged. “I’ll be in the galley if you change your mind. Just knock on the wall.”
His turned to leave, dress shoes clicking against the floorboards above the rain.
“Wait!” Scrambling off his chair, the reindeer dashed to his cabinet where he pulled out a small jar. He turned to offer it to Sanji. “It’s an antibacterial ointment for small burns and cuts. You should keep it in the kitchen, that way you don’t need to come here while you’re cooking. Do you need more plasters? Or bandages? I think I have a few spare ones. Doctor Kureha always said accidents with knives are common…”
Chopper’s rambling trailed off. He watched as Sanji hovered in the doorway. Something crossed the blond’s face before he stepped forward to take the jar.
“Thanks,” he said with a smile. It was small and soft and made Chopper warm inside.
Sanji tucked the ointment into the pocket of his suit as he opened the infirmary door. Both pirates stared at the downpour outside, heavy enough to be an endless sheet of rain.
“Bloody hell.” Still, Sanji as no coward. He simply ground his teeth and ran outside at full speed, kicking the door shut behind him.
Chopper’s ears flicked as the sound grew muffled once again. He grabbed a towel and laid it on the floor to soak up the water that had been let in. He put another against the bottom of the door, keen to avoid a slipping hazard for any unsuspecting crewmates who chose to seek his aid.
The doctor’s attention turned to ensuring his equipment, most of which was expensive and hard to replace, was safely stored away. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the faint banging of cupboards and pots in the room next door as Sanji prepared his own domain for a storm.
The Sunny lurched again. Jars of medicine clinked on the shelves. Chopper stumbled. His heart pounded in time to the rapid drumming of rain against the porthole, an ever-increasing beat.
“All hands on deck!”
Chopper’s head snapped up as the called reverberated through the walls. He cast one last glance over the infirmary before running outside, arm thrown up against the rain. It was a struggle to push against the wind in Brain Point, but his fur helped to keep the worst of the water away. The reindeer rounded the corner to where the stairs were, jumping as the galley door flung open. Sanji burst out, his already damp blond hair and suit quickly becoming drenched.
As one, the two crewmates cast their gaze to the main deck. Brook was at the helm with Nami beside him, both fighting to steer against wind and rain and the ship itself. Usopp was struggling with a canon that had broken loose of its tether. Franky burst up from the hatch in time to catch both as the ship hit another wave and tilted left. The cyborg seemed to be yelling something, but it was lost in the storm that had set upon them.
A curse left Sanji’s lips as the cook looked up. Chopper’s eyes followed, the reindeer letting out his own gasp at the sight of the foresail emblazoned with their Jolly Rodger billowing freely. A dozen disembodied arms were trying to furl it to no avail, the wind too strong and the ropes and spars too slick with rain. Zoro was standing below the foremast, his feet spread wide as he heaved on the rope which braced the sail. Yet the foresail pulled against him, doing its best to turn every which way on the yard it was attached to as it was buffeted from all sides.
“Shit,” Sanji said again, turning to look back at the top deck. Chopper could hear Luffy on the mainmast behind them, struggling to make sure the rest of their sails did not snap free.
“Make sure Luffy doesn’t go in the water,” Zoro yelled. Sanji gave a sharp nod and turned to thunder up the steps to where Nami’s mikan trees trembled in the wind.
“Help Robin and Zoro,” the cook called back to Chopper.
The reindeer swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. Gripping the railing to the stairway, Chopper carefully made his way down to the main deck. The grass squelched beneath his hooves. He slipped once, twice, then caught himself in Heavy Point as the deck lurched sideways.
“Watch out, little-bro!” Franky called from where he and Usopp were wrestling the canon back in place and checking the other bulky items on deck.
Chopper bit his lip, picking himself up and running the last few steps to Zoro. His skin prickled at the faint metallic scent of blood in the air.
“Zoro,” he shouted over the rain.
The man grunted, his attention focused entirely upon his task. Blood dripped down his hands where he tightened his hold on the rope, nothing in his face giving away the pain it must have caused. The muscles in Zoro’s arms bulged as another gale threatened to tear the sail free of the yard it hung from.
Chopper inhaled. He moved behind the swordsman, the extra height of his current form allowed him to grab the rope above Zoro’s own hands. The pair heaved as one, their heels digging into the grass.
“Keep the sail where it is,” Nami yelled down to them. “I think we can make it to the edge of this storm.”
Robin’s many hands faltered where they had sprung from the mast. Chopper winced as the yard the foresail hung from started to creep right, the rope burning his hands. Zoro growled in front of him.
“On three,” he said as their feet began to slide along the deck.
Chopper nodded, though the man could not see. He tensed his arms, his hands shifting to find a tighter grip. The rain was starting to seep beneath his fur, bringing with it the cold.
“One.”
The wind howled across the Sunny from stern to bow, rattling the crates stacked on deck. Ropes swung amidst the spars and rigging. Timber creaked beneath the onslaught of elements.
“Two.”
The ship pitched left. There was a shout from the top deck where Nami’s trees were. Swearing swiftly followed. Chopper turned his head to glimpse Sanji holding their captain by his vest on the shroud leading to the mainmast, waiting for rubber arms to secure their grip on the ropes once more.
“Three!”
With a wordless shout, Chopper hauled with all his strength. Bit by bit they brought the yard back to its old position, every fraction of movement a fight. The rain was blinding. The smell of blood grew stronger, thin lines trickling down Zoro’s left arm where he had wound the rope around it. Chopper’s own hands were starting to burn.
Minutes passed. The Sunny soldiered on beneath them, forced to go the way their navigator had chosen. The gale died a little and for a moment Chopper thought they would make it through unscathed. Speed was on their side with the sail in a more favourable position, in addition to the already impressive capabilities of the ship. The wind seemed to work with the crew, pushing them onwards.
A wave smashed the Sunny’s side. Chopper dug his heels in further, grimacing at the feel of wet grass between his toes. Zoro shifted his stance, narrowly avoiding treading on the reindeer’s foot. Usopp stumbled past, arms thrown out to catch the deck chairs that had been sliding towards his crewmates.
“Thanks,” Chopper gasped, blinking away the water that trickled into his eyes.
“There’s no need to thank me,” Usopp said as he pushed the deck chairs to a more secure place. “I’ve guided ships through hundreds of storms where the waves were as tall as the ship and-” The sniper grunted as he pulled the straps of a nearby stack of barrels tighter. “-we were taking on enough water I had to swim to the helm to steer. Franky! What about below deck?”
“Secured,” the cyborg shouted back. “If we’re lucky, things will hold until the Sunny gets clear.”
“Brace!”
Chopper’s attention snapped back to the foresail at Zoro’s sharp command. He felt the tension on the rope increase as the wind turned back against them. Robin’s hands reappeared around the yard, once again trying to furl the unruly sail.
“Chopper! Zoro! Watch out-”
Nami’s warning came a moment too late as the wind’s power increased tenfold. The rain blew sideways. Usopp grabbed the railing to avoid being blown off his feet. There was a scream as the foresail ripped free of its tethers, splintered wood flying everywhere. Chopper shrieked, covering his head as Zoro swore beside him. Both discarded the now useless rope as they ran for the foremast. Brook beat them to it, his eerie laughter echoing around them as he scaled the shrouds and rigging. With a final yohoho, the skeleton unsheathed his sword and leapt through the air.
A moment passed and then the sail ripped down the other side, freeing it fully. The wind snagged the material, the symbol of the Straw Hats rippling as it billowed. Nami ducked as it swept over the helm, only to be caught on the Sunny’s figurehead.
Silence fell beneath the rain and wind as the crew stared at the scene in aghast. Then Nami was shouting orders to Brook, Sanji and Luffy who were up the masts, Franky helping to relay them with a speaker. Usopp ran towards the figurehead to ensure the foresail would not create any further drag on their efforts to break free of the storm.
Chopper staggered as the sea rolled beneath them. A hand on his arm prevented him from slipping. The reindeer glanced up to see Zoro’s grey eye on him, roving about his face and body assessing for damage. Chopper straightened his spine and curled his stinging hands. The First Mate grunted, seemingly satisfied with what he saw.
“Watch your step,” he said, already moving forward to stabilise the foremast where it shifted precariously.
Zoro kicked debris out of his way as he walked. Chopper hurried after him, helping to push aside the bigger remnants wood. Franky appeared beside them, giving a low whistle as he eyed a long crack that forked from the top of the foremast to about halfway down.
“Need to get that fixed before we do a coup de burst,” the cyborg said, wiping water from his eyes. “Nami said we’re near the edge of this storm and a little boost’ll get us clear.”
Zoro crossed his arms. “What do you need?”
“There’s some aluminium sheets in my workshop. They’re super enough the mast shouldn’t come down when we land.” Franky continued to rattle off a list of tools and materials, rapping his knuckles on the foremast every so often as he scrutinised the damage. “That should be it.”
“I’ll get the sheets.” Zoro glanced at Chopper, one eyebrow cocked. “Can you get the rest?”
The reindeer nodded. Carrying everything would pose no problem in Heavy Point. He drew in a deep breath, wrinkling his nose at the scent of sea and rain and damp fur. There was copper too, faint and familiar, sparking a memory. Zoro had been bleeding before. Chopper had seen small rivulets of it running down his arms.
“Are you alright?” he asked, blinking past the water that streamed down the brim of his hat.
Zoro frowned. “I’m fine.”
“You sure, bro?” Franky had turned his attention back to them, now scrutinising the swordsman. “Those ropes put up a fight.”
“I’m not about to kneel over,” Zoro snapped. “Focus on fixing the mast. Chopper, get moving.”
The man turned around, took a step, then shifted direction so he moved towards the hatch. Franky and Chopper exchanged a look, but the words had been as good as an order. They had also been far from a firm denial, the doctor thought as he hurried after Zoro. He glanced down at his hands as he swung onto the ladder leading below deck, grimacing at the faint red lines that marked his palms. He wondered what Zoro’s looked like. The rope had put up quite the fight and the swordsman had been wrangling it for longer.
Resolving to pin his crewmate down once the more pressing issues had been dealt with, Chopper hurried through the bowels of the ship to Usopp’s workshop. He gathered the tools Franky had asked for, before rushing to Franky’s self-made sanctuary to pick up the rest. Zoro glanced up as he entered the weapon’s development room. Several sheets of metal were slung across his back. The man manoeuvred carefully out the door, Chopper following a short distance behind. Timber creaked around them as the Sunny’s hull withstood assault by storm and sea. It was eerie and Chopper was glad when they emerged back onto the open deck.
Franky’s grin was wide and white when he saw them, rain pinging off the shipwright’s steel arms and nose. He quickly set to work, scaling the broken mast and calling out when he needed something hauled up to him. Brook clambered down to help him, hands sprouting from the wood to help pass tools and materials. Sparks flew as Franky wrapped and bolted the aluminium sheets around the worst of the cracks. Soon enough he called out to Nami, giving a thumbs up that everything was ready to go.
“Hold on!” the navigator called as she readied the ship. Chopper wrapped his hands around the mast and squeezed his eyes shut. He felt Zoro’s hand fist in the neck of his shirt.
The coup de burst was as sudden as all the others. One moment they were lurching in the ocean waves, the next they were flying through the air, the rain more like bullets from the force of the speed they were travelling. Chopper’s fingers clenched tighter around the mast, his legs struggling to stay upright. His stomach floated with the rest of him as the Sunny began a downward arc, everything momentarily thrown into a gravity-less limbo. Then reality hit.
The ship landed in the ocean with a gigantic splash, water sloshing over the railings and across the deck. It sapped at Chopper’s strength where he had been thrown against the planks. He groaned, prying open one eye and then the other. Something hauled him up by the front of his shirt, a hand straightening his hat.
“We’re alive!” Usopp cried from somewhere towards the bow. Franky just laughed as he and Brook slid down the foremast.
Chopper blinked, glad to feel the absence of rain against his face. Zoro was standing beside him, stretching his neck and shoulders as he surveyed the deck.
The rest of the crew was congregating on the deck lawn, everyone drenched and no doubt cold in the sea breeze. The doctor in Chopper fretted over colds and fevers, eager for everyone to get dry and warm. Yet, they were not quite out of danger yet, the grey clouds of the storm still visible on the horizon. Chopper bit his lip, water drops flung from where he flicked his ears as he glanced at their navigator.
Nami was draped over the railing where the wheel was, her exhaustion clear. “The next island should be seven hours east,” she called down to the rest. “It has a coastal town with its own shipyard.”
“Super,” Franky said, already starting to patch the foremast more securely. “The Sunny’s real banged up. We’re gonna need some quality lumber to fix her.”
“Can we make it to port?” Usopp asked, his fingers twitching nervously.
“Of course,” Franky said, his laugh booming across the deck. “It’ll take more than a storm to sink this girl. Best check the hull though. Don’t want to miss any leaks.”
“Right! On it.” Usopp snapped his heels together in a mock imitation of a soldier’s salute, then ran to clamber down the hatch below deck.
“Set the course, Nami!” Luffy called from where he hung from the mainmast. His laughter seemed to lift the very air around them.
Chopper let out a shaky breath, dropping back into Brain Point. “How are your hands?” he asked Zoro.
“Hm?” The man glanced down at the reindeer, flexing his fingers absently. “Check on Robin. She got hit by debris from the mast.”
“Oh no!” Chopper cried, looking around frantically until he spied Robin who had a stream of blood covering part of her face. “Doctor!”
“You’re a doctor,” Zoro said.
Chopper bit his lip, forcing himself to inhale and his pounding heart to slow. “T-that’s right. Hold on, Robin!” he called, dashing towards where the woman had sat on a lawn chair at Sanji’s instance.
The archaeologist gave the doctor a wan smile when he stopped beside her. Robin was drenched like the rest of them. Upon an initial inspection, she looked a little pale but her eyes were clear. Chopper felt some of the anxiety in his heart loosen.
“I’m okay,” Robin said.
“Let Chopper take a look,” Sanji admonished, his words soft but firm.
“Sanji’s right,” Chopper said. “You could have a concussion.”
The reindeer gently pushed Robin’s hair back, pressing his lips together at the gash that ran from the edge of her hairline to just above her ear. The blood was already congealing which was a good sign, but it needed to be cleaned. Sea water alone could carry all sorts of bacteria.
“I don’t think this will need stiches but I need to clean the wound. Could you please stay with Robin for a moment, Sanji,” he asked.
The cook nodded, a fierce determination glinting in his eyes. He caught a towel Brook had thrown to him, offering it to Robin first should she wish to dry off.
Chopper left his patient in Sanji’s capable hands, accepting another towel off Brook as he ran past the skeleton. It would do no good for him to drip water all over Robin while he was trying to tend to her. Picking his way up the waterlogged stairs was a feat in itself, the little reindeer avoiding the larger puddles as he did his best not to slip while towelling himself dry.
The used towel was discarded as soon as Chopper opened the infirmary door, pleased that it had not been flung open in the storm. His swivel chair had been knocked about the room but everything else seemed to be in place. The doctor paused for a moment, considering his options. In the end grabbing his backpack was easier than rummaging through his draws and cabinets, the bag always well stocked in case of an emergency. Chopper dashed back down the stairs, ignoring Zoro’s warning to be careful, and skidded back to his place beside Robin.
The reindeer dropped his bag to the ground, wincing at the wet squelch it made. At least it was waterproof, courtesy of Usopp and his work over the past few months. He thanked Sanji, who had lit a cigarette, and began to pull what he needed from his bag.
“Oi, cook!” Zoro shouted from across the deck. “Help me move this shit out the way.”
Sanji sighed and stretched. He blew out a puff of smoke, gave a short bow to Robin and then jogged over to the First Mate. It did not take long for their bickering to start, drifting over the ship as the crew did what they could to repair it.
Robin laughed softly, one hand pressed against her mouth. Chopper smiled. If his crewmate was laughing, she could not be too badly hurt.
Sobering, the doctor grasped a cloth and damped it with a diluted, antiseptic solution he had made. He pulled back Robin’s hair – which was now somewhat dryer – and carefully dabbed at the wound and the blood clotted around it. Robin inhaled but otherwise remained still and silent. Chopper worked as quickly as he could, knowing it must have stung.
“I’m going to ask you some questions,” he said while he worked.
“Go ahead, doctor.”
“Did you lose consciousness?” Chopper asked, thinking through the list of symptoms Doctor Kureha had made him memorise.
“No,” came the easy reply.
“Are you nauseous or dizzy?”
“No.”
“Do you have a headache?”
“The injury is sore but otherwise I feel fine,” Robin answered.
Chopper inhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain steady and professional. “Do you remembered what happened?” he asked, carefully blotting away the fresh blood that had welled up from his ministrations.
Robin folded her hands in her lap. “The sail tore free and broke the yard holding it. One of the wooden shards was flung towards me and struck me. I was fortunate it was not bigger and I was not slower in ducking, otherwise it might have decapitated me.”
“Don’t say that!” Chopper squeaked, eyeing Robin’s cheery smile with concern. He pouted as she hummed her amusement. “I need to bandage your head,” he said in lieu of complaining further.
Taking up a wad of gauze, Chopper carefully taped it to the gash. He then found a spool of cotton bandages and wound it around the archaeologist’s head several times. Snipping the end, he tucked it into the rest of the bandaging and checked to make sure it was not too tight or loose.
Satisfied with the treatment of the wound itself, Chopper moved back to peer into Robin’s eyes. She peered back with a smile. Her pupils were even in size and tracked the reindeer’s movements with ease.
“It doesn’t look like you have a concussion,” he said at last. “But you should still rest. Just because you don’t have a concussion right now doesn’t mean one might not develop. It can sometimes take hours or days for the symptoms to emerge, so let me know if you start feeling dizzy or sick or have a headache.”
“Don’t worry, doctor, I will do as you say,” Robin said. “Thank you.”
Chopper waved her away, cheeks burning as he packed his supplies back into his bag. The pair sat for a moment, revealing in the peace that came with the absence of the storm and their crewmates bustling around the deck. Luffy ran past, Brook in tow, as he rambled about fixing their foresail. At least the Jolly Rodger was still flying, which would keep their captain happy.
“Are you alright?” Robin asked after several moments had passed.
“Yes,” Chopper replied. “I wasn’t hurt. I just got wet.”
“That’s good.” The woman leaned back in the lawn chair, basking in the sun. An enigmatic smile tugged at her lips. “It seems we have company.”
Bickering heralded the arrival of their First Mate and cook. The two men were sniping at each other once again, this time about how best to stack rubbish on a waterlogged deck. Sanji threw his hands up in exasperation before twirling his way over to Robin.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, eyeing the bandages that stood starkly against the woman’s black hair.
“Much better, thanks to our doctor,” Robin answered. Chopper felt his cheeks start burning again.
Sanji turned his attention to the reindeer, leading Chopper to worry that he had bitten out an instinctive insult in the presence of the cook after all. His head ached in memory of where Sanji had last thumped him after catching Chopper calling Nami a bastard for trying to butter him up with flattery. He had been forced to go on the shopping trip to boot, something he had been trying to avoid at the time after hearing Usopp’s stories about the island’s man-eating plants.
The reindeer blinked his attention back the present, realising the inevitable blow he had feared had not come and that Sanji was still talking.
“The mosshead injured himself,” the cook said. “Take a look would you? I’m going to see if the kitchen survived. Maybe whip up something warm to drink.”
“Tea would be lovely.”
“Of course,” Sanji beamed at Robin. “I won’t be ten minutes.” He turned and pointed a sharp finger at Zoro. “You go with Chopper or I’ll throw all the remaining alcohol overboard.”
Zoro glared after the blond as he strode up the stairs to the galley. Chopper fluttered around him, fretting as the scent of fresh blood hit his nose once more.
“Where are you hurt?” he asked. “Is it your hands?”
The swordsman begrudgingly held his arms aloft for inspection, pinned in place by both Sanji’s threat and Robin’s curious gaze. A trail of red, raw skin snaked over Zoro’s palms and around the back of his hands and down his left forearm where he had wrapped the rope. The friction the rope had caused had broken through the skin in places, the source of the blood. Chopper grimaced, sympathy pricking at his heart.
“That looks like quite the injury,” Robin commented mildly from her chair. Zoro huffed, his eyes flicking over the bandages around her head. She raised a hand towards them almost self-consciously, giving the swordsman a small smile. “I’m sure our doctor can take care of you, if you let him.”
Chopper wrung his wrists. “I need my supplies in the infirmary,” he said, eyeing the fragments of rope and dirt that he could see in the abrasions on Zoro’s hands and arm. The man would no doubt be more comfortable there too. Chopper could already see his shoulders tensing as the eyes of their other crewmates turned in his direction.
Bidding Robin to rest once more, the reindeer ushered his newest patient up the stairs and into the infirmary. A miniscule portion of the tension in Zoro’s shoulders eased as the door closed behind them.
Chopper pushed his chair back towards his desk, placing a spare stool next to it and gesturing for Zoro to sit down. The doctor went to his cabinet, pulling out several bowls. One he filled with water before placing it with the other on his desk. Several folded cloths were sat next to them, along with tweezers, a needle and other implements sitting in a sterilising solution. Chopper scrambled up onto his chair and turned it to face his reluctant patient.
“Here,” he said, pulling Zoro’s arms over the smaller basin. He pulled another bowl of clean water closer, picking up a cup and filling it. “This will sting.”
Zoro grunted. Chopper took it as a sign of agreement and poured the first lot of water over the man’s injuries. The liquid trickled into the basin below, tinged with blood and flecks of dirt and sawdust.
The doctor continued to flush out the abrasions, before giving in and using a damp cloth to wipe the rest of the grim away as gently as he could. He bit his lip as Zoro hissed in discomfort. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“It’s fine.”
Chopper flicked his eyes up to the swordsman’s face. It was expressionless, only the faintest hint of emotion glinting in his eyes and the twitch of muscles on his face.
“I’m almost done,” the reindeer said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. Zoro grunted again, chest rising and falling with each steady breath he drew.
Silence crept across the room as Chopper focused on his work. Eventually, the doctor realised there was little more that either water or cloth could do. The remaining debris was buried deeper into the man’s flesh and would have to be pulled out piece by piece.
Chopper delicately patted Zoro’s wounds dry. “Do you want something for the pain?” he asked.
“No,” came the returning grunt. I’m fine. The words were not spoken but Chopper heard them all he same.
He flicked his ears.
Chopper carefully took up the tweezers, conscious not to touch the part that would in turn be touching Zoro’s ruined skin. He had washed his hooves like Doctor Kureha had always taught him but germs lingered everywhere. The reindeer leant over Zoro’s hands and forearms, and began methodically picking bits of frayed rope from his wounds. They were not as deep as Chopper had feared. However, it was still one of the nastier cases of rope burn he had seen.
“You need to keep these clean,” Chopper told the man, gesturing to the blisters and the places where the abrasions had broken through skin. “If they get infected you won’t be able to use your hands at all until they heal.”
Zoro’s jaw tightened but Chopper felt little guilt. The swordsman was a difficult patient and notorious for pushing himself past what he should. If inciting fear was the only way to get him to listen, then Chopper would do so without hesitation. Besides, Zoro’s hands were almost as important to Zoro as Sanji’s hands were to him. Without them, he would have less chance of completing his dream.
Then again, it was Zoro.
“You should avoid heavy lifting,” the young doctor said as he inspected the swordsman’s left palm. “At least for the next three days.”
“You want me to slack off when we need to bring a damaged ship into port?”
“N-no!” Chopper looked up to meet Zoro’s steely eye. He frowned, ducking his head in a vain attempt to hide his frustration. He was a professional after all. “It’s not slacking off. You need to let your hands heal. Straining them will only risk reopening your cuts or bursting the blisters. Open wounds like that can lead to-”
“Infection, got it.” Zoro sighed.
Chopper narrowed his eyes at the man in suspicion. Zoro was tense, from his shoulders to the hand that the doctor still gently held. His jaw was working in the same way it often did when he found himself laid up in the infirmary.
“Robin needs to rest too,” Chopper said, hoping that the fact that Zoro was not alone in being injured might put the swordsman at ease. “You could keep each other company.”
“She alright?”
“I-I think so. I just need to monitor for a concussion.”
“You shouldn’t doubt yourself,” Zoro told him, voice quiet but plain. “You did a good job fixing her up and helping with the sail before.”
“Don’t flatter me, you bastard!” Chopper said, barely having the presence of mind to jerk the tweezers away as a shiver ran through him at the praise. Zoro huffed a laugh across from him.
When the last of the debris had been removed, Chopper placed the tweezers aside. A good portion of time had passed, marked by the shifting angle of the sunlight streaming through the porthole. The doctor glanced at the needle still sitting in the antiseptic but none of the wounds truly needed stitching. The blisters were the worst and they were better dealt with through other means.
Hoping down from his chair, Chopper cleaned the soiled bowls, cloths and tweezers away. He washed his hooves and returned with a jar dried powder. He mixed several spoons of it with water until it formed a thick poultice. The doctor glanced up at Zoro, looking for any sign he might reject the treatment, but the man simply held his arms back out so the mixture could be applied to his burns.
“This needs to sit for twenty minutes,” Chopper told the swordsman. “You need to keep your arms still for it to work. It might sting or itch, but you can’t scratch.”
Zoro gave a short nod. Chopper smiled then began layering the poultice on the worst of the rope burns. It was sticky but cool, and he hoped it would ease some of the pain that Zoro must have been feeling. Soon enough his left forearm, and nearly the entirety of his hands and fingers were covered. Chopper gave it a pat with the spoon he had been using until he was satisfied it would stay. Then he rolled up a towel and placed it so Zoro could lean his elbows against it while he kept his hands and arms propped up.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked.
“No,” Zoro replied. His voice was even enough that Chopper believed him.
The doctor stretched as he stood. He washed the instruments he had used and set them aside to dry. Chopper set a roll of bandages on the desk, as well as another towel and bowl of water. Then he ducked to the corner and pulled a spare shirt from one of the drawers. He swapped it for his damp one with a sigh of relief. Wet fur was irritating enough without the press of wet clothes against it.
A knock on the door saved the reindeer from fretting about what he should do to pass the time. Sanji entered with little fanfare, dressed in a new shirt and pants and a tray with two steaming mugs in hand.
“Hands still attached?” he asked Zoro as he set the drinks on Chopper’s desk well away from the medical equipment.
Zoro gave him a withering glare. “Fuck off, cook. I could still beat you without them.”
“Not with the way you kick.”
The man snorted as he dodged the boot aiming for his knee. Chopper shrieked as Zoro’s arms were jolted and he ushered Sanji out with a firm scolding for disturbing his patient. The doctor then scolded Zoro for moving.
“You shouldn’t fight in the infirmary,” he said as he checked that the poultice was still in place.
“The cook started it.”
Chopper huffed, turning to examine the hot cocoa Sanji had brought. One smelt sweeter than the other and the reindeer pulled it towards himself, taking a sip with a happy exhale. He glanced at the other mug and then Zoro’s incapacitated hands. A straw floated in the cup, solving one problem. Chopper solved the other by pushing the drink into Zoro’s range.
The swordsman grimaced at the straw.
“You should drink it,” Chopper said. “You’re still in your wet clothes, which means you could catch a cold.” He took another sip, smacking his lips in bliss. “It’s good.”
“I don’t get sick.” Still, Zoro captured the straw in his mouth and took a sip of his own. An expression flitted across his face, one Chopper recognised from when the man particularly enjoyed whatever Sanji had made but was reluctant to let it show. When the man took a larger gulp with a pleased hum, the reindeer began to suspect some of the alcohol Sanji had threatened to throw overboard had made its way into the swordsman’s cup.
The minutes passed more easily with something to occupy them both. Chopper savoured his drink, relishing in the warmth it burned through him. When he was finished, he set the cup aside and went through a mental list of everything he needed to check post-storm. The sun shifted again in the porthole, highlighting Zoro’s face where he had closed his eye to mediate, his own drink long since finished. He looked peaceful if one ignored the wounds and the awkward set of his clothes that had halfway dried.
“Zoro,” Chopper whispered as twenty minutes finally passed, reluctant to break the calm. “I need to wash the poultice off and wrap your injuries.”
The man hummed, his lone eye remaining closed. Chopper took it as consent. Standing up on his chair, the doctor brought an empty bowl back under Zoro’s arms and wiped the poultice away with a damp washcloth. He patted the wounds dry once more before carefully winding the bandages around them, loose enough to avoid the risk of breaking a blister but not so loose as to fall off.
“You need to keep these on,” Chopper said, tying the last of the white cotton off. It sat stark against Zoro’s skin.
Chopper swallowed. A part of him hated seeing the bandages on his crewmates. They were a visible sign that screamed the person hurt. Still, a shallow head wound and severe rope burn were nothing much compared to the injuries the crew often attained in the course of their adventures.
Zoro stood as soon as he was able. His sure movements and lack of stumbling or swaying helped to ease a little of the anxiousness in Chopper’s heart. Their steadfast swordsman was not about to keel over yet.
“Thanks Chopper,” Zoro said quietly, a faint smile on his lips.
The reindeer flapped his arms, his face burning beneath his fur. “Get out,” he said. “And don’t do any lifting or training!”
The door swung shut before he finished the sentence. Chopper sighed and turned to set his infirmary back to rights.
~ ~ ~
They limped into port with little fanfare. Franky winced at every strained creak the Thousand Sunny gave, patting the railing and promising softly that he would fix the ship up as good as new. Tension dropped from everyone’s shoulders when no one gave their Jolly Rodger a second glance. The island was friendly to pirates then, or at least indifferent.
Luffy sat on his usual perch atop the Sunny’s figurehead. Usopp was fidgeting with his bag, eyeing the shore with a healthy dose of suspicion. Chopper was torn between watching the bustle of people in the port and watching Zoro to make sure the man did not try anything stupid, like helping Sanji move the empty barrels they needed to refill.
Their first shopping trip was short and focused on the necessities. Brook, Zoro and Robin stayed behind with the ship, the latter two at Chopper’s insistence. Franky went off with Nami to negotiate with the people who oversaw the shipyard. They returned successful, though Nami complained about the amount of beri they had to fork over to get entry so Franky could repair the foremast.
“They extorted us!” the navigator raged, as though she would not have done the same. “Taking advantage of stranded sailors to make a quick buck! The nerve!”
Sanji made a sympathetic noise in all the right places, offering to whip up a cake or two from the oranges he had procured on his own shopping trip. His bags were laden with goods and he had secured a delivery of further supplies over the next few days.
“Sanji!” Luffy cried as he ran up the gangplank, Usopp huffing behind him. He held his arms out proudly, two familiar, silver fish hanging by their tails in each hand, spines protruding along their back. A whole bag of them was slung over the rubber man’s back. “I’m hungry. Let’s have fish for dinner.”
Zoro chortled at the cook’s incredulous expression and the resounding ‘oomph’ Luffy gave as Chopper tackled him in an attempt to fling the fish away. They tussled for a bit until Luffy gave in, splayed across the lawn deck and laughing unabashedly. Sanji toed him in the side as he held up the bag of Luffy’s dubious purchase.
“Well?” he asked. “Where’d you get them?”
“From the market,” Usopp answered on behalf of their wheezing captain. “They were selling them as fish balls and other things too. You think I’d let him bring something dangerous on this ship? Not Usopp, the mightiest protector of all the seas!”
Sanji sighed and that was that.
It turned out that Luffy’s fish were not venomous or poisonous. Furthermore, they went well with oranges, cinnamon and olives, a local dish that Sanji tried that night at their captain’s insistence.
The dish, it turned out, was delicious. Chopper did not know if it was the recipe itself or Sanji’s own careful touch, but his mouth was watering by the time he left the infirmary for the dining table in the galley. The fish fell apart easily and the other ingredients were chopped small enough that all one needed to do was scoop them up with a fork.
Chopper also noticed it was simple for Zoro to eat without putting too much pressure on his injured hands. The reindeer caught Sanji wincing whenever the swordsman shifted his grip on his fork. Zoro, by comparison, remained impassive throughout the meal.
When the crew was done, Luffy sated for now, Sanji dragged Usopp off to wash the dishes. Zoro frowned, likely remembering it was his turn to help, but was quickly distracted by Brook asking his opinion on a certain fencing technique the skeleton was developing.
Chopper felt himself listing into Robin as he stifled a yawn.
“It’s been an exciting day,” she said with a soft smile.
Chopper rubbed his face. “The storm was scary,” he admitted.
“Hm. Lucky we had our navigator to guide us through.”
“Yeah.” Chopper stared at Nami with awe as she refused their captain’s attempt to wheedle more beri out of her, having spent all his allowance on fish. The little reindeer glanced back at Robin, eyeing the bandages still wound around her head. “Are you experiencing any new symptoms?”
“I’m still okay, doctor,” she reassured.
Robin’s side was warm where Chopper leaned into it, her arm coming up to wrap around his shoulders. He stifled another yawn, snuggling further into his friend. A quite laugh sounded above him.
“Perhaps it is time you retired to bed,” Robin said gently. “I am sure tomorrow will be just as busy.”
Chopper looked around at the rest, realising it was not just him wilting at the seams. Nami was starting to drift off in her chair, her outstretched hand holding Luffy’s snoring head at an odd angle. Brook seemed restless but Usopp was trading yawns with Sanji at the sink. Even Franky seemed to be settling in for a nap.
“Come on.” A bandaged hand landed on Chopper’s shoulder, prompting him to rise from the chair and follow Zoro out of the galley.
Robin waved goodnight as she stood herself, stretching her arms before casting her eyes over the rest of their sleepy crew. Chopper returned the wave with one of his own, rubbing his eyes with his other hoof. Zoro’s grey eye twinkled where it looked down at him.
“Sleeping in a chair will give you a bad back, you know,” the swordsman said in the cool night air.
Chopper pouted. “You sleep sitting up all the time.”
“I’m used to it.”
An ear-splitting yawn sounded above him as they descended the stairs. That in itself was not unusual, but Zoro looked somewhat wan when Chopper looked up at him.
“Do your hands hurt?” he asked, turning to inspect the man’s bandages.
“Not really.”
“It must have hurt before though,” Chopper said. The phantom burn of the rope still lingered on his own skin. “You should tell me if you’re in pain. I can give you something for it.”
“I’m fine,” Zoro replied. “Barely felt it.”
The doctor frowned, but his sleep addled mind was too sluggish to parse through the details of why. Instead, he allowed Zoro to guide him to the men’s quarters, only needing to nudge the swordsman in the right direction once to stop him from wandering aimlessly along the deck. The boxed hammocks Franky had made swung gently from the roof. The blankets in Chopper’s own bed called to him like a lullaby. He scrambled into it with only a small boost from Zoro who then collapsed in the bunk below.
The room was dark and quiet. Creaking wood drifted through the air, an ever-present sound on a sailing ship. Waves broke against the Sunny’s hull outside, but it was the peaceful crash of languid waves brushing against the shore. Chopper closed his eyes, listening to Zoro’s steady breathing. Warmth bloomed in his chest and washed through his limbs, certain in the fact that he was not alone. Content, the little reindeer deer drifted off to sleep.