One-Shots: One Piece | One Piece x Reader

Kid x reader | Stitches and Mending

You paled three shades lighter, your skin almost ghostly in comparison to your normal, well complexion. You stood rigidly with wide eyes in the light of raw, tungsten lamps on the walls of your ship's infirmary, the dim glow casting shadows upon your shock-contorted face. There was something almost horrifying about the way your brow was shadowed and how your lips quivered in fear more than anything else.

"I-" you couldn't get the words out as you watched the blonde haul your captain into your room, trying to keep the man up for all his weight was worth. "Killer-"

"Do what you need to do." The blonde said lowly, expressing no emotions.

The blank front was enough for you to gulp down a thick ball of terror and spit that was lodged in your throat. Your eyes flickered all over the shaded form of your captain, the man nothing short of being a beast. You wouldn't call yourself one to be reactive, but there was something about the sweet tang of metal that caused your nose to wrinkle. The sight of crimson other than your leader's hair was not helping your clear disgust.

There came a loud thud as Killer slipped the man onto the infirmary bed, the light suddenly hitting the silent redhead. You felt a chill as you looked him over from his skin as pale as snow to the dark circles starting to form under his closed eyes; the way his muscular chest heaved like any one of his breaths could be the very last.

No monster should be like this, you thought to yourself: weakened. Struggling. Grasping at the strings of life themselves.

You dropped your head and turned on your heels. Your back was lit, yet the fabric of your dark trench absorbed anything akin to light. The blonde watched for a moment as the subtle glint of metal flashed within your hands, holding his breath.

Killer clenched his hands into fists, his pressed-lipped frown concealed by the mask upon his face. The man stared down at his friend, his captain, unable to keep from concerning himself.

"Will he...?" He started, trailing off.

"I don't have answers until I look," you finished strongly through the lurch of your stomach and the twist of your heart, already knowing what he was going to ask. "I'm sorry."

The blonde shook his head, his long hair ruffling along his back through the silence. "No, you're just doing your job. Thank you, (Y/n)."

There was a pause, your shadow cast onto the wall as you turned. You had a bottle of brandy in your hands along with as much cotton wool as you could physically carry.

"No need," you muttered, your chest clenching as you stepped towards your captain. The floor groaned loudly as you did. "Leave."

The ask was not rude, nor was it mean. You had a goal and as much as you cared for him, you didn't need the first mate hanging around and giving you more stress.

Thankfully, Killer was able to abide by your demand.

"Later?" He asked, your back turned once more.

You said nothing - he tore his eyes away from your form and opened the door.

His voice was muffled by the sound of rain pouring down onto the deck. "I owe you one."

"Shut up," you growled, hearing the door slam behind him. Then, you lowered your voice to a whisper. "Why in the hell would you owe me anything? I'm part of this damn crew."

Silence.

Leaning down, you took the edges of your captain's coat and started to pull them away to expose his broad, bloody chest. You had seen him in messes before - more times than you could count - your shock had died down since the initial surprise.