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The glimmer of the waning crescent reflected on the ocean's surface shone up on the Bow of the Revenge. Most of the crew was asleep below deck, but the captain stood there, listening to the water against the ship and the wind meander through and cause the masts to creak.
He wasn't the sentimental type, anymore, but he could often be found at the bow in silence, soaking in the air and the sounds.
As he was accustomed to all the sounds his position would allow him to hear, he was surprised to hear knocking of wood on the side of the ship. Without a second glance, he considered it just a plank or other wood from something irrelevant.
So when he heard climbing on the ladder- gentle shuffles on the rungs and grunts of effort, he turned toward the sound slowly, his hands on his hips, where a blade and a gun were at the ready. He cast a quick glance from port to starboard to see if there had been any ships that snuck up on them.
Finally, a head and shoulders showed over the railing, then a back and legs, then feet landed on deck. He stayed still and didn't react as he saw the previous crew of the Revenge continue coming back on to the deck, and then going below for their crewmates.
He was frozen because of the last person who came up from whatever... disgraceful raft was now tied below.
The golden-haired man turned to him, an eager smile vanishing as he locked eyes on the captain.
The two stood in silence, not getting any closer. The gentle rocking of the ship was the only movement, with even the breeze and creaking almost silent, as if not daring to break the silence.
The captain raised his blade, pointing it at the golden-haired man. "I don't want ghosts on this ship." It was clear enough. Get off, go away, stay away .
The golden-haired man hardly moved, just his shoulders released the tension and his hands hung at his sides.
"Need I repeat myself?"
"I'm sorry." the man said.
"All ghosts are. They're not welcome here," the captain said, trying to be firm. He was surprised that his feet started to move him toward the ghost. I'm not afraid of anything. I'm not afraid of anything. I'm not afraid of ghosts.
"I'm not a ghost..." his hand moved above his heart, then covered his mouth, then back to his heart. "You- you thought I was dead?"
"You are."
"I'm not-"
"You are to me."
The gentleman couldn't help but grip some of his own loose shirt. He needed to lean against the rail, hold something. "I'm sorry for not meeting you on the dock."
The captain was only seven paces away, but thankfully his feet would move him no closer. He could see more clearly the man's face- even though there was only a crescent of the moon, it was to the captain's back, and shone far to much on the ghost's face. As much as he tried to not notice, he couldn't help but see the concern and worry and regret and guilt carved deep into his face.
He doesn't deserve to feel guilt. Or concern or worry or regret. He doesn't understand what he did to me. He doesn't know what he did to me. He lied to me. I get to be angry. He doesn't get to be upset.
"Can we talk about this?"
"No ghosts on this ship."
"My ship."
"You're dead. This ship belongs-" Why was it so hard to say? He'd claimed vessels before, claimed dozens! He'd stolen and destroyed and captained plenty of ships. What makes this one any different? But he doesn't finish what he was trying to say.
"It wasn't a real death. I faked it. So I could come back. To you."
"You left."
"I came back."
The captain took a step back, then three forward, the point of his blade against the chest of the man who betrayed his vulnerability. "You. Left."
They were at a standoff. The captain didn't want an apology- not now. It was too late for that. He was Blackbeard again. And he would never be any man this gentleman could ever stomach being around ever again.
The captain had been betrayed before. Plenty of times. The consequences reaped upon his past enemies had been swift and brutal.
Why was this... passive, pompous wimp any different. How could he possibly be so damn different.
The wimp stepped closer, not afraid of the blade's sharp point. It didn't impale him, rather, is slid up.
Just do it and be done with him. He deserves it. He deserves it for what he's done.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said quietly. It was gentle. Of course it was gentle. He was a gentleman.
The captain didn't respond, but simply stared down at where the blade almost met the man's skin.
"Something happened and I didn't want to disappoint you."
"Dis- disappoint me?" The captain was surprised he even asked.
"I ruined the greatest pirate to ever live. I didn’t want to ruin you any more."
The blade was dropped, limply held in the hand of the captain. The effort to hold it in place was too much.
"Ruined?" He could barely ask. This little, soft, gentle, kind man... ruined him?
It was true. Blackbeard may be back but he had a different mission in mind. He was a different kind of man, a different kind of captain. Worked his crew harder and took more than before. Any kindness, mercy, or grace was gone. And he hated that everyone knew where it went and why.
To the bottom of the ocean, along with his hopes for being anyone else ever again. He would die as Blackbeard. He wanted to. The world expected it of him.
But he repeated the vile word as if it was a sin to say it. "Ruined?"
"You were- are... the most feared pirate the world has known. Most famous. And I did something stupid like getting caught by the Spanish and you got my ship and crew out of it and then... you stayed." He certainly knew how to ramble. "You gave up being that! For what, an idiot? For what?"
My happiness.
No. There was no room anymore for a notion so childish.
"For you."
They were both surprised the words tumbled out from his lips. He stepped back, wanting to hide in the shadows.
"Ed?"
No one had called him that in the weeks that had been since he last saw the man. No one dared, anymore.
I. I get to be angry.
"You left me."
"Im-"
"You lied. You didn't show up. I waited for hours." He stepped closer again, the blade once again at the golden-haired man's throat. "You never came. You died. You don’t get to show up."
"Ed-"
"You left me!" The captain shouted. He was furious. He shoved down the heartbreak, but after weeks of hiding that monster, it demanded to be felt. "I trusted you! And you left me!" He shouted.
"Im sorry." Of course he was the first to cry. He wasn't afraid of his sorrow and guilt.
"You should be," the captain growled, wanting to cut the man’s throat and let him fall overboard. He deserved it.
He made the mistake of looking him in the eyes.
Someone once said the eyes are the windows to the soul. You can see past everything there, in the eyes of the ones you had trusted. Had known. Had memorized and cherished, holding them dear and knowing you'd do anything to keep them safe, no matter the cost. They can't yank up everything that you pushed down and locked away. It was as if it was never locked or never gone.
"You hurt me." He managed to get past the tightness of his throat. He hissed in a breath trying to cause the tears to cascade out.
"I know. I'm sorry."
The blade finally hit the deck at their feet as he let go of the weapon and instead couldn't help but put his arms around the gentleman and hold him tightly- hold him as if there was a chance he really was a ghost.
He didn’t weep loudly, but he did make a mess of the man's shirt's shoulder. After a moment, their foreheads touched and they kept their eyes shut, as if they were afraid. Afraid that it wasn’t real and they’d realize when they opened their eyes, searching for something or someone long gone.
"You scared me," the captain whispered in a breath. He took in a shuddered breath. "You scared me. I thought you were dead."
"I wish I could have sent you something to let you know that wasn't true before you got that news, Eddie..."
"What did- why did you...?"
They opened their eyes to look at each other, looking from one eye to the other, as if desperate to see if there was any change in the wrinkles around the eyes or in the color themselves. The captain gently held the gentleman, who's hands were on the captain's shoulder and waist.
"Fuckery, really," the gentleman summarized it and was relieved to see a smile on his captain's face, even for a moment.
"Fuckery?"
"Yeah- I'll tell you about it tomorrow," he said, then asked, "there... will be a tomorrow, won't there?"
The captain hummed, pulling the gentleman closer again and this time looking just over his hair. His arms tightened around the gentleman, knowing without the words being spoken that his gentleman wouldn't leave again.
"I promise I won't leave-"
"I know."
The gentleman relaxed in his arms, willing the embrace to last.
It ended after a moment, and the captain stepped back, looking at the deck. "I tossed a lot of your things."
"They told me," he responded graciously neutrally.
"Are you upset?" The captain looked up, as if he was shorter than the other.
"We'll talk about it tomorrow," he decided. Then he asked, "What about Izzy, and Fang and Ivan?"
"We'll talk about them tomorrow." The captain smiled, surprised at his own face's natural response.
"To bed, then?"
"To bed."
The ship rocked and beams creaked as they made their way off the deck. The breeze fluttered the sails, dancing along the ropes.
Now there was something back in its place.