Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steel in your side for so long was a weird feeling, Stede decided.

It had actually been around hour six that he came to the conclusion, if anyone was keeping track. It had been around hour three, when he heard the snores from the other side of the deck, that he realized he should perhaps try to be friends with the steel in his side.

Obviously, they were not friends.

When hour eight came and went, Stede was certain that his skin had begun to heal around the blade, locking it into his guts forever. He worried how that would look with his summer linens. Would the bright silver clash with his favorite yellow robe? Or would it highlight the shine to the silk?

Perhaps he had begun to lose a bit more blood than recommended, Stede decided.

That particular conclusion came as the sun began to make its way back into the sky, teasing him with a warmth that had been notably absent during the cold ocean night. He hoped those that slept on the deck hadn’t been suffering in the cold this whole time. He should invest in more blankets at their next stop.

Stede was startled from his reverie when he heard the flap of wings across from him. He blinked his eyes open, unsure when they had shut. On the railing sat Karl, who was blinking slowly at the exhausted co-captain. 

He must have just woken up, Stede thought. Wait, had he ever seen Karl sleep? Do birds sleep? Certainly they do, Stede thought. All animals sleep. He likely slept out of sight of the humans, not wanting to be bothered during his times of rest.

Another bird joined Karl, settling next to him on the railing, looking at him as if to say, “Oh, there you are, dear.”

That must be Olivia. Mr. Buttons had mentioned her a few times, translating Karl’s squawks into mildly-impressive — and sometimes very erotic — love poems about the bird’s wife. She had kind eyes, Stede blearily noticed. Like… who had kind eyes, again?

He thought of Mary, then. He’s not sure what the connection was there, but he was thinking of her. He wondered if her or the children would like Karl and Olivia. He wondered if Karl and Olivia would like his wife and children. They would probably get along well enough, Stede decided.

He heard a quiet squawk come from the railing. Karl and Olivia were chatting, though Stede wasn’t sure what about. He hadn’t learned the language of the seagulls yet. He wondered if Ed knew how to speak seagull. He probably does.

Karl looked over at Stede, almost as if he was concerned for the man’s wellbeing. Olivia seemed to nod, fluttering her wings ever so slightly. She leaned into Karl’s neck, nuzzling against him and quietly chirping in a strange way. She pulled back and the pair shared another look, this one’s meaning unclear. Then the pair took flight, heading towards the end of the ship his crew slept on.

Stede felt lonely without the presence of the seagulls. He hoped his crew would wake up soon, maybe even remove the sword from his side. They could at least remove it from the pole so he could sit down.

The sun was even higher now and he heard the tell-tale noises of life beneath his feet in the kitchen. That would be Roach preparing breakfast, he guessed. He hoped he would use the peach marmalade this morning, that was one of his favorites. 

“Oi, what the fuck?” Stede heard from across the deck. Then there were different footsteps, louder, coming towards him. He snapped his head back up, his eyes pulling open with great effort. When had they closed this time? When had his head begun to droop? What was even going on?

Ed was running to him. He was in pajamas, ones that Stede had leant him. They were soft cotton, white and blue. Ed looked nice in them. Except when Stede’s eyes met the other man’s, he realized it was not Ed. 

It was Blackbeard. And he seemed pissed.

“Who the fuck left Stede up here all night?” Blackbeard shouted at no one in particular, finally closing the distance between the two and reaching for Stede’s face with a hand far more gentle than his voice.

“What? What’s going on?” Stede heard someone ask, possibly Lucius. Blackbeard simply growled, releasing Stede’s face and moving to investigate the stab wound. It had stopped bleeding around hour two, Stede recalled. 

He tried to say so, but all that came out was a groan.

“It’ll be okay, Stede. You’re just tired from standing all night. You’ll be okay,” Blackbeard — Ed? — rambled.

There were more footsteps, Lucius and Jim were running towards the pair. The rest of the crew followed. Karl was on Mr. Button’s head, Stede noted. When had Karl left the railing, again?

Blackbeard whipped around, his entire body stiff with rage.

“Why did no one get Stede down from the fuckin’ pole?” he asked, his voice quiet and firm.

The crew shuffled their feet, looking anywhere except for Blackbeard and Stede. Blackbeard was shaking now and Stede feared what he would do to his crew if no one spoke up. Finding his voice, Stede tried to remedy the situation.

“It’s not their fault, Ed. I should’ve said something. They were just taking care of Lucius and cleaning up after the fuckery. It’s not their fault,” was what Stede tried to say. What came out was really just mumbles, practically indescribable from real words.

Blackbeard turned back around, reaching for Stede’s face but pulling away at the last second, choosing to rest it one Stede’s shoulder instead.

“Quiet, Stede. We’ll get that sword outta you soon. Just try to keep standing,” Blackbeard said.

Stede wanted to tell him that he had been standing all night, he could stand for another ten minutes if he needed to. If Ed asked him to. He wanted to tell the crew that it was okay. They all looked so scared, so worried. He wanted to tell them he was alright, he would be alright.

Instead, he groaned, his head falling to his chest as the pain of the sword — which was certainly not his friend and would never be, with all the pain it had caused — spiked through his whole torso. He tried to bring his head back up, settling it onto his own shoulder for support.

That groan, luckily, seemed to jump the crew into action. Roach was saying he would go get his first aid kit. Frenchie was looking for something soft to set Stede on once the sword had been removed. Jim, Oluwande, and Wee John were coming forward, offering their assistance in ripping the sword from the pole. Mr. Buttons and Lucius had disappeared, but Stede wasn’t sure where they were going.

Ed was still right in front of him, looking at him like he was the only thing in the world. Funnily, it reminded Stede of how Karl looked at Olivia. That must’ve been the blood loss.

There were hands on his shoulders, now, holding some of his weight. It was nice. Stede hadn’t realized how much pressure he had been putting on the sword to hold him up. Nice of it to keep him from falling over. Still not his friend, though.

It was Wee John that was holding him, lifting him by his armpits slightly as the other three wrapped a cloth around the end of the sword. Once that was done, Ed tried to catch Stede’s eyes, but they were rolling around, looking at the chaos piece by piece.

He was trying to say something, Stede realized. He hadn’t noticed that his ears were buzzing until Ed was looking at him, mouthing something. It might’ve been “sorry” or “hurry,” Stede wasn’t sure.

Then they were pulling.

At first it just felt like a pressure around the exit wound. Then they started making progress and Stede could feel as the sword slid through him, coming out the same way it had gone in. He kind of missed the sword. The void it left was cold at first, then unbearably warm.

A clattering sound rang through the buzzing in Stede’s ears as he realized he was falling forward, right into Ed’s arms. Jim and Oluwande were lowering the pair to the ground, helping adjust Stede’s head into Ed’s lap. It was warm.

Stede saw Roach’s feet racing towards them, tripping over an uneven board. Stede should have that looked at later, he thought. Then Buttons was looking in his eyes, draping a wet cloth over his forehead. Buttons’ eyes were wide in the same way they get when he tells Stede a storm is coming for the ship.

Stede’s head rolls to the right, looking for the rest of his crew. He couldn’t remember how he got injured, but he hoped everyone else came out unscathed. He’d be a dreadful captain if he let someone get hurt on his watch.

He saw the sword a few feet away, lost behind legs and torsos and buckets and things. His hand reached out, searching for the steel blade. It had been his friend. Who took away his friend?

Chapter Text

Blackbeard was fucking pissed.

No, he was more than pissed. Stede — Stede fuckin’ Bonnet — had been left skewered to a pole all night. There was more blood on the deck around him than Ed had ever seen, and he was fuckin’ Blackbeard .

He was Blackbeard. Of course he was Blackbeard. And Blackbeard doesn’t panic when one of his crew is bleeding out. He takes command, gets medical help from someone else, and moves on to his next conquest. 

But with Stede fuckin’ Bonnet lying in his lap on the deck of The Revenge , his hair greasy and unkempt in a way Stede’s hair shouldn’t be, Blackbeard is not there. Edward Teach is. 

And Edward Teach is scared.

Watching Stede’s eyes roll in the back of his head, his arm reaching out towards something unseen as if he was reaching out for his savior, Ed starts to panic. He can feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, itching to get closer to Stede and give him whatever life it had.

Roach was crouched next to Stede, his hands steady as he sewed up the hole on the front of Stede’s torso. Stede groaned as Jim poured more alcohol over the wound, washing away some of the blood so Roach could see better. But Stede’s eyes did not open.

Oluwande was saying something to Ed, something about rolling Stede over. Ed looked down and realized Roach had finished sewing up Stede’s front, but couldn’t move him to get to the back. Ed had gripped Stede’s shoulders, his knuckles white.

“Right, right,” Ed said. “Just, uh, just be careful with ‘im. Gentle.”

Ed helped roll Stede, the unconscious man’s head still resting in the pirate’s lap. Roach and Jim went back to their routine, swapping alcohol for a needle and vice versa until Stede was back to his usual number of holes.

Not the time, Edward, something in the back of Ed’s skull said.

Everyone was silent as Roach wrapped Stede’s torso in thick gauze they had picked up after Stede’s last stabbing drained their medical supplies. When it was done, they settled Stede onto a blanket that Lucius had brought from the captain’s quarters. Ed gently lowered Stede’s head, placing it onto the blanket as if he were a baby bird that had just fallen out of its nest.

Everyone was silent for a moment.

“We fucked up,” Oluwande said.

“No shit,” Black Pete spat, but he was looking down in guilt, so it lacked his usual fire.

Ed didn’t respond, just continued to kneel next to Stede’s head, his hand still hovering, but not touching. He couldn’t touch. He didn’t want to break him.

“We should bring him down to his quarters to rest,” Jim said, their voice gentle but clear in their intent. They should be acting, not just standing there like scared children who just broke their mother's favorite vase.

This brought Blackbeard, or at least a part of him, out into the open again. Scared Edward Teach took a step back, letting someone else take the reins.

“Yes. Yup. We should do that. Uh… I’ll grab this end, yeah?” Blackbeard said, reaching for the corners of the blanket near Stede’s head. “And, uh, Olu, will you grab the bit by his feet? And Lucius, can you go down and bring some… water. Yeah, water, to Stede’s room? And a little cloth?”

Olu and Lucius followed their co-captain’s orders, moving quickly to their designated tasks.

“I’ll open the doors so you don’t have to worry about them, sir,” Black Pete said.

“And we’ll clean up… that,” Frenchie said, looking pointedly at the puddle of blood that had gathered at the bottom of the mast. Him and the others began searching for cleaning supplies, picking up the discarded clothes and things to throw away as they went.

Blackbeard and Olu, meanwhile, made their way below deck. Pete rushed ahead of them, muttering something about making sure their path was clear.

As they walked, none of them spoke. Occasionally, Stede would groan and Blackbeard would see Olu flinch in sympathy. Lucius passed them at one point with a bowl of water in hand, but he paused to look at Stede. The look in his eyes reminded Ed of a son seeing his father hurt for the first time. Blackbeard looked away and kept moving.

They made it to the room and rested Stede in his favorite spot by the window. Lucius had already set out everything they would need to keep Stede comfortable until he was feeling better. He had even brought one of Stede’s favorite books out and rested it on a table nearby. What was it called? Ed couldn’t remember.

As they had so many times already, the conscious men stood still as they watched over their captain sleep. No one sat, no one spoke. Pete was the first to leave, followed briefly by Oluwande after Jim came in to drop off some medicine their Nana recommended for exhaustion.

Lucius and Ed stood there for a while longer before the boy spoke up.

“He likes you, you know,” he said, looking away from his captain for the first time in a while to stare Ed in the eyes.

Ed was silent. Blackbeard had been gone for a while now, leaving when there was nothing left to do that didn’t require strength or leadership or unnecessarily gruff voices.

“You like him, too,” Lucius said.

Ed stood silently for a moment, mildly stunned that someone would dare to point something like that out to him of all people. He was Blackbeard, wasn’t he? And people don’t just talk to Blackbeard.

But no, he wasn’t Blackbeard. He was Ed. And he very much liked Stede fuckin’ Bonnet.

He looked away from Lucius, his eyes drifting over Stede’s body as if checking for injuries they may have missed. He knows they didn’t, he saw the whole fight happen. And he had done nothing the whole time. Ed had done nothing. It was as if he had stabbed Stede himself.

“You can go, if you want. I’ll sit with him for a while,” Lucius said, startling Ed out of his brief revelry. “I might read to him for a bit. The way he does for us. Though I can’t do the voices.”

Ed decided his assessment of Lucius earlier was correct.

“It’s alright. I’ll sit for a while. You go have breakfast or something,” Ed said, waving his hand towards the door as he moved to sit by Stede’s side.

Lucius risked a smirk, ducking his head as he made his way out of the room. Ed noticed it but said nothing. The boy deserved a smirk after the morning they had all had.

Ed grabbed a rag and dipped it into the bowl Lucius had brought down, twisting it before draping it over Stede’s forehead. He rested his hand over the rag, wanting to feel that Stede was warm, yes, but alive. It was like magic in the way it made Stede’s face loosen up, his muscles seemingly melting into the fine mattress beneath him. 

“You are a weird man, Stede Bonnet,” Ed muttered.

“Mm… yes, perhaps I am,” came a sleepy and rough voice.

Ed startled, moving his hand to see that Stede’s eyes were cracked open just a smidge. He had a small smile on his face, but he frowned as he realized Ed’s hand had moved and tried to reach out for it. Ed quickly placed it over Stede’s hand in an attempt to keep him from moving too much.

“Well, at least you can admit it,” Ed said through a smile.

“A good gentleman can always admit when he’s weird.”

Ed hummed, staring at Stede’s face softly. Stede stared back, though his eyes were lidded and it was a wonder he was still awake. The two shared the quiet moment for a beat or two, the waves lapping at the side of the ship almost lulling them into a sense of peace.

Stede interrupted that with a groan as the wound in his side panged, his hand leaving Ed’s to press to the gauze around his stomach. He tried to curl around himself but stopped when it tugged at the stitches on his back. He laid there panting for a moment until the pain lessened and his muscles stopped tensing.

“You okay there, mate?” Ed asked, quickly returning his hand to Stede’s on the injured man’s stomach.

Stede hummed, his eyes fully closed now. Ed wondered if he had passed out again, but Stede squeezed the pirate’s hand before speaking.

“Are you okay?” Stede asked.

Ed paused, taken aback by the question. Was he okay? He wasn’t the one who had been stabbed! Of course he was bloody okay! What kind of dogshit question was that?

He told Stede as such, shaking his head in disbelief as Stede opened his eyes again to stare at Ed with a piercing gaze. It was a gaze that said Stede knew too much, was too good at reading him. Ed used to think it was just a thing rich people could do, but he now knows its a skill unique to the Gentleman Pirate. 

“You sent away your first mate last night, Ed. That can’t have been easy. I’m sorry we made you do that.”

“You didn’t make me do anything!” Ed shouted, though it wasn’t loud nor was it angry. It was more shocking, like a bird’s squawk when it flew into a window that wasn’t there before.

“It’s okay to be upset that he’s gone, Ed. He was…” Stede paused. “Important to you. I’m sorry him and I couldn’t get along.”

Ed truly wondered if Stede would ever stop surprising him.

“It’s not your fault you two… Izzy’s a complicated man, mate. Him and I barely even got along, at times.”

Stede hummed, closing his eyes again. Ed thought he might speak up, but this time he heard Stede’s breath even out. He had fallen asleep. Once again, the man was unpredictable.

It went like that through most of the day. Every hour or so, another crewmate would drop by. Roach came by with some bread and marmalade “for when the captain’s ready,” he said. Oluwande and Jim stopped by with tea, sitting and chatting with Ed while Stede slept.

Lucius even came by and read, like he said he would. It was some kind of children’s tale, Ed thought. A princess that slept in a castle for a hundred years, only able to wake with a true love’s kiss.

Ed thought it was a bunch of bologna, but Lucius had said it was Stede’s favorite. So Ed decided it would be his favorite, too. 

Around nightfall, Stede woke up again. This time it was Ed and Buttons in the room playing a game of cards. It was the most quiet Ed had seen the strange man, his face scrunched in concentration. Ed was positive Buttons had no idea what game they were playing, but that didn’t matter. His company was welcome.

Stede announced his presence with a groan, his hand reaching out towards the pair. Ed grabbed it without thinking, slipping his fingers between Stede’s and gently rubbing his palm with his thumb. Buttons, notably, said nothing at the exchange, choosing instead to focus on his captain’s face.

Stede’s eyes opened, taking in the sight of the strange pair before him. He gave Ed a soft smile before working himself into a large grin for his crewmate.

“Mr. Buttons! Good to see you. How are you doing, my friend?” Stede asked. He did not let go of Ed’s hand.

“Better naur dat yer awake, Cap’n!” Buttons said, his voice surprisingly quiet despite the fervor with which he said his words. “I’ll take me leave naur, Cap’ns.”

With a nod, Buttons stood and left, leaving the pair alone once more. As the door clicked shut, Stede seemed to lose some of the tenseness in his shoulders that Ed hadn’t even realized was there. His large grin faded into a small smile that he seemed to reserve for Ed.

“It is good to see you awake, Stede,” Ed said. “You… scared some of your crew this morning.”

“Mm, I’m sure I did. It’s the least they deserve after leaving me stuck to a pole all night,” Stede responded, his voice jovial despite his words. Still, they sent a knife through Ed’s heart.

“I am sorry we left you out there. I was just…” Ed looked away.

“In pain. You were in pain, Ed. After what Izzy did, having to see him go like that, you were hurting. It’s okay to admit when you’re hurting,” Stede said, squeezing Ed’s hand like he had just that morning.

Ed just grunted in response, still not looking up.

“Mm… Like, for example… I’m in a good deal of pain right now,” Stede said, his voice suddenly tight. He released Ed’s hand, moving his own to his torso as if he could squeeze the pain away. Instead of keeping it wrapped there, however, Stede pulled it back. It was red.

“Ah, that doesn’t seem ideal,” Stede said before his eyes rolled back into his head for a second time that day.

Ed yelled, loudly. He yelled until his voice was hoarse and the whole ship was seemingly shaking as the crew ran into the captain’s quarters. Roach and Jim pushed everyone aside, save for Ed, and began examining Stede’s wounds.

While his back stitches were secure, his front ones had come loose at some point in the day. He hadn’t bled much more, but it was enough to leave him feeling faint enough to pass out and give everyone mild heart attacks. Roach and Jim redid his stitches and, when the poor man woke up towards the end, gave him stern instructions to not, under any circumstances, move without assistance. Jim even pulled their knife on the captain.

Stede, of course, agreed. The crew filed back out of the room and it was just Ed and Stede, though Stede was still a bit out of it.

“Sorry about that,” Stede said.

“What’re you talking about, mate? Your stitches tore. Happens all the time.”

“No, I’m sorry for worrying you. Again.”

Ed was never going to be able to predict this man, was he?

“If I argue you just are going to keep saying sorry, aren’t you?” Ed asked.

“Yup.”

Well, at least he can predict one thing.

“Oh, Ed?” Stede muttered, on the verge of falling back asleep.

“Yes, Stede?”

“Where’s the sword?”

Ed was immediately a bit confused, but went along with it.

“The one Izzy stabbed you with?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, why?”

“I kind of… miss it?”

And he’s back to being unpredictable.

“Only you, Stede Bonnet. Only you.”