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His job was to wipe over the plates that had just been washed with a clean towel. Like every other day at 1 p.m, Zeff had dragged over his stepping stool so he could reach the drying rack.
It was what he was supposed to still be doing . He stared down at the foam coating his hands in a thick layer, then towards the kitchen door where Zeff had basically sprinted out of the kitchen, definitely irritating his prosthetic.
His first and strongest instinct was to rush for the stove Zeff had vacated. Sanji pushed his stepping stool over, heat hitting his face as he peered down at the steak. Odd. His face screwed up. One of the first rules to being a chef was to never leave your station while frying. Sanji nudged the pan, trying to get a look at the other side of the fat, brown chunk of meat.
“Kid, get down from there. I swear I'm going to lock you in the pantry.”
“Hey!”
Large hands squeezed under his armpits and then Sanji was airborne. His feet kicked air as a surge of fear struck him, that he’d be moved into the pantry and shut in the dark, but he was merely deposited back down by Carne’s feet.
“What did you put in that frying pan? Tell me now before we get a dish sent back and I have to tell Zeff it was your fault.”
Sanji's eyes went wide. Everytime that happened Zeff barred him from the kitchen for an entire day. “I didn’t put anything in, I swear.”
“I mean it, kid, you add another handful of rosemary or a pint of soy sauce, I really will lock you in that store room.”
Sanji glared upwards, disgusted by the way he could see straight up Carne’s nose. He crossed his arms over his chest. It hadn’t been a pint, it had been five tablespoons and the pasta had needed it.
The kitchen door opened and Zeff walked in. He had a large smile that dropped from his face as he stared between his dish-dryer and his Charcutier. “What did Eggplant do?”
“Nothing!”
“I found him over your frying pan, Chef.”
Snitch.
Zeff’s moustache twitched. “Oh yeah.” His eyes moved left to the frying pan and then widened. He started to power walk. “Crap. It was supposed to be rare. You couldn’t have flipped it over while you were over here, Eggplant?”
“I was going to but I got pushed away.” Sanji shouted, smirking up at Carne.
“Well, next time let the boy work, Jesus. Can’t remember the last time I made a mistake like that.”
“Zeff’s losing his memory.” Sanji giggled as he watched Zeff throw the meat onto a plate to eat himself, before starting fresh.
It was a couple of days later when a server came in and requested Zeff’s presence, that Sanji learned through a thin gap in the kitchen door, what had got him so distracted.
He was disobeying another rule; Never stand near a kitchen door. Too small to be visible in the window in the centre of the door, he risked being ran over by a busy server.
Zeff was standing near a table but he didn’t seem to be taking their order.
The woman was plump with long black hair and wrinkles just visible around her eyes. She laughed- the sound musical. Zeff echoed her.
The sound coming from the burly old man was so uncommon, Sanji stepped back in shock. The door slid shut and he had to push it back open again.There wasn’t even a hint of Zeff’s usual frown.
Zeff looked happy.
Sanji frowned and moved to go back into the kitchen but a long braid caught his attention from the other seat. He stiffened. The girl couldn’t have been older than two. Honey coloured eyes and a large smile full of baby teeth.
The little girl reached up and clutched at Zeff’s arm.
Tapping one foot on the floor, Sanji smirked, ready to hear a vegetable themed insult as she squashed whatever she was eating into the hairs on his arm.
Zeff laughed. Face lighting up. Suddenly Sanji didn’t want to see anymore, a hard pit had settled in his stomach and was growing bigger and bigger.
The woman mirrored his laugh, and gently picked up the girl to place inside Zeff’s large arms. The toddler giggled and stared up at him adoringly.
Goosebumps burst over Sanji’s skin, a chill catching him from the open door out to the deck. A cruel wind snuck down the sleeves of his white t-shirt, touching the sensitive skin on his chest.
Framed by the gap in the door, they looked like a painting. The baby cradled in Zeff’s arms and the mother sat in front, completed the picture of a perfect happy family. Sanji, a couple of metres away, watched the scene alone from the door.
“Hey,-” Sanji whipped his head around. Carne was staring at him. “Do you want to be knocked on your ass by a server again, get away from that door. Did you already finish the dishes?”
Carne held up one of the plates Sanji had finished wiping down, pursing his lips as he stared over its surface.
“Yes and don’t you dare say I did it wrong. I checked them over!”
“Good job.” Carne smiled after a second, placing the plate back onto the rack. “Hey, do you want to watch me debone this cod?”
Sanji pushed himself away to let the door close, rushing over to Carne before he could change his mind.
Carne moved quickly so it was difficult to see what technique he used unless Sanji really concentrated. Even harder to see where his eyes were through his round sunglasses.
As he moved the fish aside ready to work on the next one, Sanji thought about touching his arm. Reaching a hand out and placing his fingers on the warm skin. The hard pit throbbed in his stomach. Sure, before he’d even entertained the idea that he’d get shoved back. Get barked at to get out of the way or to stop messing everything up. Sanji clenched his jaw, nodding with each swish of Carne’s knife.
The visits from the woman and her child weren’t a one off. Once every few days Zeff would hurry through into the dining room, dishes left unattended to boil over, burn or go stale.
Sanji’s scoff was echoed by the sink he bent his head into, upgraded from dish-dryer to dishwasher as all chefs were needed in Zeff’s absence.
Everyone seemed to find it funny. Zeff’s girlfriend, he was teased, alongside whistles and cheers when Zeff would finally come back in, always wearing that stupid smile.
Even though it made all the hair on his body stand on end and his stomach ache, Sanji was unable to stop himself peering through the gap in the door. Hands white against the frame to watch as Zeff placed a special pink drink in front of the little girl, holding it up to her lips so it wouldn’t spill.
Heidi, he could hear the mother coo.
Against Sanji’s back he felt echoes of a slender arm. Long Blonde, silk-like hair and warm blue eyes. The ethereal woman from his blurred memories would hold a spoon up to his lips. He’d giggle. Soft skin against his. “My baby.” She’d kiss onto his cheek.
The clash of plates and the shouts of chefs tore through the memory. Sanji threw himself away from the door, unsure where the memory had come from and wishing desperately it would go away again. He retreated back to his station. Shaking his head back and forth until blonde covered his vision.
He had nothing and it had been that way for a very long time, yet it still stung like a fresh wound.
To his dismay the visits continued, the women's boat must be permanently affixed to the Baratie. Sanji struggled to sleep, fiddling with a pair of scissors he considered going outside with.
All his stuff was packed and ready, sure any day now he’d be asked to move into the men's dorm where the other staff slept. That's what he was - staff, he shouldn’t have his own room. He wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea. Wouldn’t want Zeff’s girlfriend to know he’d ever got confused and thought for a second that Zeff was anything other than his employer.
“What's all this?” Zeff held up a black bin bag, Sanji’s chef whites spilled out the top.
A long sleeve hung down the side like it was begging for help.
Zeff had come into Sanji’s room to check the windows; a heavy wind had loosened some of the glass. Luckily in his room the glass only needed to be pushed further into the frame, but instead of leaving quickly, Zeff had seen his packed bags.
Sanji tried not to react. Putting his hands naturally on his knees. “My stuff. I wanted it all to be in one place.”
“You're the weirdest kid I’ve ever met.” Zeff grumbled. “Your clothes will get all creased in here.”
“Hey!” Sanji watched as Zeff upended the bag back into the draw. A mess of white cloth. “Don’t! It’ll just take me longer to pack up again.”
“I didn’t pay 100 berries for that chest of drawers to have you not use it. Did you see a spider again? Is that why? I told you it's more scared of your ugly mug then you are of it.”
“No.” Sanji pouted and stared at the floor. Allowing Zeff to stomp around the room undoing all his work. His mouth relaxed into a straight line as Zeff put his recipe books back on the shelf. A long minute spent re-arranging them into regions, before placing the two stuffed toys he owned carefully on the shelf above. Flicking them until they sat up as if alive. Sanji buried his smile into his oversized jumper. A small flame had sparked with Zeff's action and melted some of the ice in his stomach.
“That's better. You okay with Oscar up here, don’t- er- want them with you in bed?”
“I’m not a baby.” Sanji pouted.
“Okay, little Eggplant.”
Zeff soon left for his own room, but not before flicking off the lightswitch.
Sanji’s mouth opened and closed. There was no way he could call out for Zeff to come back and turn the light back on. Not without being re-labeled a baby.
Darkness and silence settled over the room like a heavy fog. Sanji swallowed and quickly ran for his bookshelf, grabbing Oscar the rat plush and sprinting back to his bed. He dived under his covers, pushing the toy against his chest as he made himself shut his eyes.
Its fur was slightly coarse. Left outside for a bit too long before being discovered by Sanji. It had been tied to one of the boats that had travelled to the Baratie to eat. Missing an ear, it had caught Sanji’s eye.
When the customer who owned the boat used it for boxing practice, Sanji had undertaken a secret rescue mission to ensure Oscar wasn’t misused again.
Thoroughly cleaned by Zeff after he’d found it under Sanji’s pillow, it fit perfectly under his chin, a nice weight against his chest. Some of the ever present tension that seemed to thrum through his blood left.
Each night, Sanji desperately wished Oscar could extend its nearly bald, little arms to clutch him back. Aware each night that it was a hopeless; It would never happen and if Oscar's fabric heart did start to beat, he wouldn't chose Sanji to be with anyway. Nobody else had.
-
Once every two weeks, just before they sent out a boat to gather supplies from the nearby islands, the Baratie had a stock count. Every grain of rice noted down.
Sanji was given a notebook and the industrial refrigerator.
Thick jacket thrown at him by Patty, he was sent inside. The jacket was a hand-me-down from a slimmer chef but even with their small stature, it still hung off his frame and had to be folded twice to allow his fingers to poke out the sleeve.
Fingers numb, he tapped each slab of meat. Eyes beginning to go swirly, he finished up with the cherry tomatoes. He’d forgotten what the numbers higher than 100 were so he just wrote 100 and continued his count. Until finally, he finished. Closing the fridge carefully behind him.
“Done!” He smiled at Carne. “I took a lot less time than when you did it.”
“I finished my bone broth, Brat. What does that say?”
“Shut up! Lying bastard.” Sanji whispered the end of his sentence under his breath. He didn’t want to speak loud enough to be heard, Carne and Patty always found his swearing hilarious, much to his humiliation. He’d tried to deepen his voice when he talked but it only seemed to make them laugh harder.
Zeff insisted on counting the pantry himself. Sanji understood. Sometimes when he woke up, he wouldn’t be able to calm down until he’d seen for himself, the shelves and shelves of food.
“Hey, old man. Did you hear that I finished before…” Sanji's smile fell off his face. The store room was empty. “You.”
Zeff wasn’t inside. His notebook sea-sawed off the middle shelf. Immediately Sanji knew that Zeff had abandoned his work again for that woman. For some reason Sanji’s eyes were watering- Must be dust. He picked up the notebook, rice was written alongside a wonky line of ink that led off the page.
The stock count was important, Zeff had made sure every chef here understood it was life or death if food wasn’t managed properly on the sea, but no, apparently the woman and his new child was more important.
Boots stomped closer from the kitchen. Sanji turned towards the noise but he couldn’t see anything from the back of the storeroom. “Hey, why is this door open? Zeff’s out there with his girlfriend so he must be done with the stock take. I told you I don’t want to let in any insects.” A gruff voice just louder than Carnie's bubbling saucepan snapped.
A slam sounded. Light fled from the room.
Sanji swallowed, a hand going to his hair. There was supposed to be a lamp in here, but its glass had smashed last week and it was yet to be replaced.
Sanji felt himself go pale. Body immediately numb and struck by hundreds of pins and needles. He felt frozen, unable to move. There was a handle at the top of the door. Way above where he could reach.
They’ll let you out, he told himself.
It must have only been a couple of seconds but it felt like years till he got his legs to move.
“Hey.” He tried, voice weak. He kicked the door to try and create more sound. He pressed his ears against it. He could hear someone talking so they should be able to hear him. “Hey!” He kicked harder. Over and over.
Nobody answered.
His hand surged into his hair. Maybe, now Zeff had found a kid better than him, someone he could create a real family with, they’ll keep him in here. At least he had food. Rows and rows of it. He nodded to himself. It wouldn’t be so bad. Could sleep on the sacks they delivered the rice in.
"Not so bad." He whispered to himself. Heavy breaths choked in his throat. He stared at the dark store room, barely lit by the light seeping in from the bottom of the door. Panic blurred the room until it distorted into a cold cell under Germa.
With the same doomed sensation he'd felt almost two years ago, locked underground, heavy in his stomach like he’d swallowed a 10kg weight, It was growing harder to tell himself he was being silly, when this was exactly what Judge had done; Realised he was a failure of a son and locked him away in the dark, where no one could see the shame of his bloodline.
It happened once and it was happening again.
Sanji’s knees hit the floor, then his head. Quick gasps soon turned to sobs. Old pain rushing into the gaping hole in his stomach as his cheek pressed into the iced floor.
Sanji stared ahead without recognising the door creek open. Light washing over his unfocused blue eyes.
“Idiots- No, I didn’t. Yes, I marked where I got to. Think I don’t know how to do my own stock take-.” The uneven steps stopped. “Eggplant?”
Even though the door was now open, the darkness chased out by heavy duty kitchen lamps, Sanji couldn’t remember how to move his head. All he could do was stare into the far distance with unfocussed eyes. Mentally trapped underground.
“I almost stepped on you. What are you doing on the ground?”
Sanji couldn’t answer. All he could think was that he had frozen and fused with the ice cold floor.
Above him Zeff stared down. One large masculine silhouette with blonde hair.
“I don’t know what I did wrong.” Sanji gasped, trying to shuffle away.
There was a creek as Zeff bent down, his large hand hovering above his arm. Sanji stopped himself from flinching. It would be worse if he flinched. “Someone put you in here? Who? I swear I’ll skin them.”
“I don’t know.” Sanji mumbled around a hiccup, pushing himself up on shaking arms. His hand slipped and he jolted back down. “I promise I’ll be good.”
Zeff twisted his head to stare down in confusion. After a second he seemed to process what Sanji had said. “You’re never good.” He said with a forced laugh.
“I can be better, I’ll really try. I can clean more and wake up earlier and sleep later.” Was it obvious to Zeff that Sanji didn’t believe his own words, sure down to the marrow in his bones that he wasn’t capable of ever being the son Zeff wanted. But he was prepared to say anything if he could buy himself a few more weeks. Sanji’s head fell to his chest. “I don’t want to sleep here.” He couldn't lie to himself any longer, it would be bad, really bad. Heavy tears started to run down his face, he watched them drip onto his hands. Tears never helped. He knew that. Aside from learning to walk and talk, It was one of his earliest lessons. But the knowledge failed to stem the flow of tears.
“Eggplant, what are you talking about? I don’t understand, did somebody say something to you? I gave you your own bed in your room.” Zeff cleared his throat and withdrew the force from his voice. “Do you not like your room?”
As the noise of Zeff clearing his throat cracked against his ears, it finally sunk in that the door was finally open. Sanji ran. Little feet thudding against the wood.
“Sanji!”
He pushed past chefs, shoving and scratching until finally the door to the deck was in sight.
He gasped hot fresh air until it felt like he’d float off. Hands shaking as he stumbled forwards to clutch the bannister and stare into the teal ocean that stroked gently against the side of the boat.
Finally, he was out and he was free. He crouched down and tried to reach for it, sure if he could just feel the water’s cool touch, his thoughts would stop racing.
“Sanji, oi, brat! Don’t run like that through a kitchen, look at all the mess you caused!” Patty's voice was harsh as he appeared in the door. Behind him he could see Zeff.
Sanji jumped, spinning around to put his back to the bannister. “Go away!” he shouted. He wouldn’t let them put him back in the store room. “Go away!”
“Go away!? It's my boat!” Zeff thundered. “I don’t know what has gotten into you lately but knock it off, three good dishes are on the bloody floor!” Zeff turned and left, the sounds of the kitchen re-starting.
Patty remained in the door with an expression Sanji couldn’t place.
“What?!” Sanji shouted.
“You alright, kid?” Patty asked. Leaning against the door frame.
Sanji rubbed under his eyes to check if he’d stopped crying or not. The skin felt tender but not wet. He nodded. Chest still punching out his breath.
“I’ve never seen you like that. There was a man on the island I grew up on who went mad, that's who you reminded me of, you going mad, kid?”
Sanji frowned. He’d never met anyone mad before. Wasn’t sure he knew what it meant. “I got locked in the store cupboard.”
“Oh,” The frown fell from his face, mouth stretching into an O. Patty stepped fully out onto the deck and dropped to one knee so they’d be at eye level. “I’m really, really sorry kid, that was me. I was the last one to shut the store room door. Shit.”
Sanji stared at the ground, scared to meet Patty's eye and find the hatred he expected. The look his brothers would send him as they’d lock the door to his cell again, once he was beaten enough to not be fun anymore.
“I didn’t know you were in there, thought you’d gone out on wait duty, cos’ I know Zeff wanted you to go meet his fancy lady.” A large calloused hand landed and rubbed up Sanji’s arm. “I’m really sorry, kid.”
Sanji stared at the large hand touching him in shock. Patty ran very warm. “So you don’t want me to sleep in the store room?” Sanji swallowed and looked up. Outside of his panic attack he was almost sure his mind had played a trick on him, but he couldn’t shake off the lingering doubt. Fear of the alternative too strong.
Patty's thick eyebrows pulled together. “What?”
“It's really dark in there.”
“Oh, that's right, we haven’t replaced the light yet. But no, me and Carne may joke we're gonna throw you in there but you’re the boss’s kid, of course you ain’t sleeping in the store room.”
“I’m not Zeff’s son. My actual father locked me in a cell and told everyone I died.”
“Shit, oh god, Sanji.” Patty's expression dropped into pure shock. Large muscular arms wrapped around Sanji and he was squeezed into Patty’s chest.
It had been so long since he was hugged by someone that wasn’t a stuffed toy, there was a part of him that expected it to hurt. “You’re not kidding are you? that would be fucked up, although I supposed I’d deserve it.” Patty said softly.
It was hard to concentrate on Patty’s words. Sanji tried to shake his head, but he was too compacted to Patty’s chest. “They had a funeral for me.” Sanji wasn’t sure why he was telling Patty this. He wouldn’t care.
“Shit. What the fuck, why would your father do that? Was he mad?”
Sanji felt himself go pale and squeezed his lips together. If Patty found out that he was a failure, he would stop being so nice to him. Judge’s face surged to the forefront of his mind, making Sanji squeeze his eyes shut. He’d promised not to tell people he was Judge’s son. He needed to stop talking before he failed the one thing he’d been asked to do.
Patty continued to babble, uncaring that his question was left unanswered. “Oh my god, you're just a baby.”
“I’m not a baby! I’m ten” Sanji shouted, wriggling out of Patty's hold. He took one last deep breath. “You shouldn’t tell people I’m Zeff’s son, he wouldn’t like it.” He left Patty to go back to his station, staring down into the sink to see three dirty, broken plates. These must have been the ones Zeff was talking about, the ready to go dishes that had fallen on the floor as he’d shoved past. Good food ruined. His head fell to his chest.
Much later when the sun had set and the restaurant had blown out its lamps, a knock sounded on Sanji’s door. He slid himself up, duvet pooling in his lap. He frowned, fisting the clump of fabric.
“Eggplant, can I come in?”
“It’s your boat.” Sanji said, pulling his knees up to his chest while the door opened.
Zeff didn’t speak until he’d sat in the middle of the bed and with a wince twisted himself to face Sanji. Hand going down to rub over his knee. “Eggplant, we need to talk about today.”
“Why?” Sanji said with barely any volume.
“Because you were crying on the floor of the storeroom.” Zeff continued to stare at him. “Because you’re crying alone in your room.”
Sanji sniffed and rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. He didn’t think it had been very obvious.
“Who did it? I’ve already given the chef’s hell about shutting the door without checking. We are gonna get the handle moved down so it won’t happen again.”
That was a lot of effort to go to. Sanji shrugged, eyes going to the other wall.
“Alright, next question. Why did you think I’d make you sleep in the storeroom?” Zeff looked suddenly exhausted.
Sanji hated that he was the one who had to bring this to Zeff’s attention. His own hands loading the gun that would shoot him.
“Heidi will need somewhere to sleep. I mean, I have my own room and none of the other chefs do.” Sanji stuttered, trying to talk clearly. He was trying to be a man and not give Zeff any more trouble, not after everything he’d done for him. “I just don’t want to sleep on the floor, I promise I can be better.” Sanji looked to the door where Zeff would soon be entering with Heidi in his arms and that woman behind them, wearing the large grin he only had with them. Heidi's books in his bookshelf, Heidi's toys in his bed.
Tears bursting from his eyes, Sanji’s shoulders jumped up and down with his sobs. “Let me sleep in the men's dorm, not anywhere else.”
“Heidi? Sanji-.” Zeff was clearly alarmed. “Let me get this straight, you think that Heidi- Mona’s girl is going to be moving into your room and I want you to sleep on the floor of the storeroom? That's what you were saying earlier.”
Sanji nodded.
“That’s ridiculous. Why would I give away your bedroom? We’ve just finished decorating.”
After circling the market four times. They had decided together on a poultry theme. Ducklings, goslings and chicks were spread out over the wallpaper. “Everyone likes baby animals.” Sanji said. Even Zeff apparently.
“And for Mona’s girl? You’re not making any sense. Why would I kick you out for Heidi? Sure, she’s cute and all but I don’t remember signing any adoption papers.”
“I’m not stupid. When they both move here. You’ll see if you haven’t already that I’m a failure. You don’t want me to cook, I can’t reach the stove and I irritate you. I saw you with that baby, you love girls, I’m nothing like her. I’m not cute. You never want to hug me. Maybe I was stupid but not anymore, now I see that we are colleagues,” He struggled over the large word. Unsure he’d said it right. “Nothing more. You don’t owe me anything more than you owe Patty.”
“Eggplant.” Zeff reared back as if he’d been slapped.
“When they come I’ll stay out of your way, I just ask that I get a bunk in the men’s dorm, please.”
Zeff’s eyebrows nearly hit the roof, finally seeming to catch Sanji’s train of thought. “No, you will not be sleeping in that cesspit with a bunch of grown men! I know you don’t think I do, but I have a duty to look after you! Jesus Christ, kid, I think I’m angry at myself here. If I knew this was going ‘round in your head I would have had this talk with you years ago, but I didn’t and now you think I’m going to replace you.” Zeff laughed to himself, and then as his head moved, he saw the plastic bag full of clothes, full once again, next to the empty chest of drawers and his eyes widened before a sheen fell over them. He froze. The next time he blinked a tear fell. It rolled down his skin and fell from his chin into his lap. His head fell forwards, hands coming up to hide his face for a long second.
“Zeff?” Sanji said slowly. He wanted to hide his face as well, hide the tears that were coming faster and faster, running down his face. Heidi and Mona made Zeff smile and he made Zeff cry.
With one deep, choked breath, Zeff turned back to Sanji and met his eyes with an intensity that nearly made Sanji rear back. “Mona and Heidi are not my family, Sanji. You are.”
Sanji, who had been trying to make himself smaller and smaller, said meakly, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Zeff snapped. “Idiot, you're my kid and nothing will change that.”
“But I’m not a girl.” Zeff always said that girls were much better than boys.
“I don’t care if you're an alien. You're my son and I’d never exchange you for anything.” They locked eyes. “You hear me, Sanji? Anything.”
Son. Sanji mouthed the word. It was heavy in his mouth. Zeff really did think of him like his son, that he was worthy enough. Not just a failure he couldn’t bring himself to kill.
“Why on earth would you think Mona would willingly move into a floating restaurant? That woman hates salt in her hair.”
“She’s your girlfriend. You ruined your food to see her.” Sanji mumbled. “You didn’t stop smiling.”
“No food was wasted!”
It was a relief to Sanji that Zeff still felt as strongly as him about food waste. Something he had began to doubt over the past week. He hadn’t changed. It was still food over everything.
“And no she isn’t my girlfriend, I can promise you that, she’s just a good friend. I knew I should have stopped those rumours. Look, I was excited to have her with us as she is our wine supplier, she brought with her a giant crate of red, we were able to have Beef bourguignon on the menu again."
"I suppose I should explain. We met when we were much younger. My crew had helped her husband who needed a ride back from a neighbouring island and I stayed with them for a couple of weeks in their vineyard before moving on. I admit Mona is pretty but I’m too old for all that rubbish, as well as the fact she already has a husband. I don’t need anyone else in my life but you and even in the very, very slim chance I did meet a special lady, you would come first.”
“First?”
“First.”
Sanji was unable to close his mouth. Sanji had never been first, he’d been considered third by Judge, before then being ranked around the same level as a discarded banana skin. He’d never imagined being first to anybody, although maybe his mum had once considered him in her top three.
Inside his head, the labels were beginning to switch. He realised it was no longer his father, Judge and Zeff. It was now Judge and his father, Zeff.
Sanji’s eyes hurt from not blinking, everything starting to click into place. “But if i’m your…son. Why don’t you hug me?” Admittedly Judge had never hugged him but he'd seen him hug Ichji, Niji and Yonji- the ones he did want.
“Eggplant, you always flinch. I'm not gonna grab you for a hug when you don’t want to.”
“I want to!” Sanji clenched his fists and shouted. He really wanted to.
“Okay, then.” Zeff sat against the headboard. He opened his large arms. “Come here.” A smile was fighting to emerge on his face.
“Okay.” Sanji shuffled up the bed. Avoiding the older man’s eyes, he shoved himself back until he was against Zeff’s side.
It was very warm.
Sanji could smell the cigar Zeff must have smoked before coming up here on his breath and the sweat from a long day working. His skin seemed to hum, like there were tiny bees under his skin.
The arm around his back moved. He flinched, letting out a small yip. Re-opening his eyes, he saw Zeff frozen, looking at his expression carefully before slowly curling his bicep until his fingers rested against Sanji’s ribs to anchor him against his side.
Driftwood had come ashore.
Shimmying down slightly, Sanji’s head fell without thought to rest against Zeff’s shoulder. A smile stretched from ear to ear. This was lovely.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Sanji fought to open his eyes but he couldn’t. Sleep too strong an opponent.
“Shh, you’ll wake him.” Zeff said under his breath. His shoulder moved with each word.
“Oh, I’m glad the kid’s knocked out.” It was Patty’s voice. Lowered like he was trying to be quiet.
All the voices floated past Sanji's consciousness, barely making sense.
“Yeah, Eggplant needed this, now get out before you wake him up again.”
“Don’t you guys look cute, I’ve never seen you two like that.”
“Yeah, you know he’s funny about his personal space.”
“I was going to talk to you about that, kinda. He said something pretty concerning earlier.”
“I can guess.”
“He told you as well? Bloody hell, right? With a father like that, no wonder he has issues.”
“His father? What about his father? What did he say? He told you something about his family?”
“Yeah, I got to be honest, until now we all thought he was yours, a few even thought you were the one to make him all jumpy. But out on the deck, ya know after he ran through the kitchen like a banshee, well he said his father used to keep him in a cell and pretend he’d died, said they even had a funeral for him. Sick fucks.”
“What?”
“Yes! That was my face as well, I almost thought he made it up but you should have seen him, Zeff. Fucking heartbreaking.”
“The store cupboard-.”
“Yep, that's why he had a panic attack.”
“Fuck. When I opened it, he kept saying he’ll be good. Fuck, what the fuck. This kid is gonna kill me.”
“Yeah, Zeff. Don’t know why he told me and not you though, didn’t think he liked me much.”
“Nah, he likes all of you lot, you are basically the kid’s uncle, you and Carne.”
“Am I? Yeah, I like that, Uncle Patty.”
“Shh, now get out, I’m amazed he’s slept through all this.”
“Alright, alright, good night.”
“Patty, can you pass me that Stuffed toy that's just fallen off the bed, he always sleeps with it.”
“This rag?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what animal it’s supposed to be either, just put it against his arm.”
“Ya know, he is kind of cute, when he ain’t strutting round the kitchen ordering us round.”
“He sure is.”
“Good night, Sanji, night, Zeff.”
“Night.”
Sanji felt the lightest press of lips into his hair. His eyes re opened at the contact and feeling course fur, he sleepily stretched to draw Oscar into his arms.
"Night dad." He mumbled, rubbing his face against Zeff's chest.
"Good night, son."
Oscar on one side and Zeff on the other, it was the best sleep he ever had.