Chapter Text
As Stede Bonnet began to row out from the shores of Barbados, he couldn’t help remembering and comparing his last time leaving, earlier that year. So much had happened since then and he wondered if he could ever have imagined how much he would change in less than a year. Last time, he snuck out late at night, desperately trying to find a place he belonged, and a life that he was happy with. This time, he was rowing into the sunset desperately trying to go back where he belonged, knowing he would be happy with no other life. And as he rowed, he found he had lots of time to think. For the first few hours, mindlessly rowing in the direction he last saw his ship, he basked in the warm, soft glow of thoughts that follow the first admittance of being in love. He knew he had left Ed at the dock, and would need to apologize for that, but when he imagined their reunion, he pictured his apologies being interrupted by happily surprised kisses, all transgressions forgiven with his return, just as Stede had forgiven Ed as soon as he had climbed over the railing and told them to raise the white flag, only a handful of days before.
However, in his 6th hour of rowing, after night had fully settled in and only the light of the moon and stars shone, he began to notice small disruptions on the silver waves. At first, he thought it might be debris from a storm, but as they floated closer, it became clear that instead of kelp or dead fish, it was books, a couple hundred by the look of it. It was then he had his first burst of anxiety. Why would hundreds of books, and nothing else alongside them, be floating out in the middle of the ocean? It was almost certainly the work of pirates and Stede imagined an unfortunate merchant ship being gutted of all their reading material. He felt a small pang of embarrassment and nostalgia at that, remembering how Ed had reacted when he had tried to loot books on their first raid together. Once he got close enough to one to grab, he reached into the water, morbidly curious who had been ransacked and what books they might have had on board. Coming up with a small camel colored leather bound volume, with little gold embossed letters on the front, he smiled fondly at it, recognizing the title, but stopped short when he opened the front cover and felt his blood go cold.
“From the library of Stede Bonnet” the stamp read, and though the ink had bled, he recognized it immediately, briefly recalling the 14 hours he spent hand-marking every last book in his captain’s library. He gently closed the book and turned to lay it back on the water, letting the volume slip back into the sea, as his thoughts bubbled over and his stomach clenched. He didn’t pick up anything else after that, for fear of what he might find. It was very early in the morning when he first saw the seagull. The little bird had circled his boat for a moment, before coming to sit directly across from Stede and tilted its head up as if to look him in the eye. He had been rowing all night and was considering taking a nap as the adrenaline of his escape had fully worn off, but sat up a little straighter as the seagull cawed at him twice, and went to sit at the front of the dinghy, facing away from him. After about an hour, when Stede began to droop once more, the seagull cawed at him again, insistently and flew ahead of the boat, going slightly toward the left. Intuitively, Stede decided to follow it. After all, seagulls must have nests somewhere.
It was well into the morning when he saw the first hints of palms waving in the breeze, and he internally thanked whatever god might have taken pity on him after such a physically and emotionally taxing night. After he had finally made it past all the books, he had spent most of the night quietly wondering what had become of his ship and whether it was a bad omen or simply unlucky. As he drew closer, he realized he would not be alone on this little scrap of land, and felt his heart leap into his throat, until he saw the little seagull that had kept him company fly off from its perch at the front of the dinghy and go right next to a familiar man with a telescope to his face.
“Oh fuck me” Oluwande just mumbled at first, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Guys! Stop all that! It’s Stede.” he said louder, half annoyed with Mr. Buttons and Roach and half wondering if he was hallucinating. Freezing and turning slowly, six pairs of eyes all rested on the little dinghy with their former captain rowing furiously toward them. Together, they all rushed toward the edge of the miniature island and helped Stede out of the boat, with a cacophony of questions and exclamations spilling out of the group.
“Captain, where were you?!”
“I didn’t think I’d ev’r see yer face again!”
“How did you find us here?”
“Do you have anything to eat?”
“Did you bring any oranges? I can’t go through scurvy twice!”
“What the hell happened to you??”
“Alright, alright, let’s all sit down together and maybe everyone can get some clarity.” Stede suggested, pointing to a shady spot they could all squeeze into if they sat in a small circle. “I have some rations, not much, but everyone should get a little something” he said, turning around to scoop up the larger of the two makeshift bundles Mary and Evelyn Higgins had packed for him. Once they had all sat, he unfolded the big square of fabric and began doling out hard tack, dried salted meat, a few oranges (mostly for the swede), a tin filled with a soft greasy yellow substance that smells of rosemary, and a couple small square lumps of toffee. As everyone began to nibble, he noted to the group that the tin contains flavored tallow, and they should eat a little bit with the hardtack. He wasn’t sure about the mechanics of it, but he had once read that a man could starve with a full stomach if he didn’t get a bit of fat every once in a while, and felt a silent wave of gratitude for Mary, appreciating her foresight and good sense. Everyone in the circle knew this would be a tense conversation, and hesitated to break the silence, especially as their missing crew members were so obvious in the small circle; Oluwande was the first to speak. “So, Captain, what’s happened to you since your trial? When we saw Blackbeard come back without you, we assumed you hadn’t died, since he didn’t really act like that, but we don’t know what did happen…” he trailed off, catching the look on Stede’s face. “So Blackbeard came back to the ship? Well, I suppose it’s only fair I explain myself to you first, it was my fault I didn’t return with him.” he said with a sigh. As he began his story, he stared down at his hands, which were fiddling with a bit of palm frond. He recounted how he and Ed had to sign themselves over to King George’s service and tried to ignore the collective “Oooooooh” that rose when he stuttered out that the two of them had made the plan to run off to China together (and it reaffirmed his decision to not mention their chaste, but relationship-changing and frankly all-thought-consuming kiss).
"But when I was woken up, it wasn’t the man Ed had pointed out earlier. It was Chauncey, and he… well he woke me by shoving his pistol into my cheek.” Stede said quietly, rubbing his fingertips over his chin, still not meeting any of their gazes as horrified gasps echoed through the group. “The bloke that was at your trial, getting all riled up?” asked Wee John, the one whose brother you supposedly killed , silently tacked on. “Yes” Stede nodded, looking up for just a moment as he answered. “He led me outside from the barracks and into the forest, talking to me all the while. Telling me he had been drinking and thinking all day and night. He turned me around once we were behind the treeline and said he had concluded I wasn’t a human.” Stede, unable to contain his exhaustion or his emotions, curled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms in front, trying to hold himself together, ashamed he felt like a bullied child all over again, in front of his crew no less, but too overwhelmed with the weight of the last week to stop himself. He hadn't told Mary, and now that he was talking about it, he couldn’t seem to edit his words or the note of self-loathing that leaked into his tone.
“He said that I was a monster, a plague. That I defile beautiful things.” Stede dropped his face for a moment behind his knees so no one could see his lower lip tremble, and after momentarily putting on a semi-poised face, he managed to stutter out “Like his brother and my own family…and… and that I even managed to bring history’s greatest pirate to ruin. And somehow I’m still here, God’s perfect little rich boy.” By the time he reached the end, he had a few errant tears rolling down his face and cleared his throat, sniffing to try and regain his composure. “Anyway, I confessed that I agreed, which seemed to make him even more mad, and as my luck would have it, when he went to shoot me, he tripped and… well… well just like Nigel he…”
“Not again?” asked an incredulous Black Pete, already guessing exactly what had happened. Stede just nodded, still looking down.
“Do you have some kind of curse, or, maybe a gift, that protects you from your enemies by having them off themselves? You know, since you’re such a bad swordsman?” Black Pete blurted out.
“Jesus man, can’t you read the room?” Oluwande asked, appalled and exasperated, gesturing wildly at Stede, with Wee John and Roach making noises of protest alongside him.
“We’re not in a room” Black Pete sayid back, much like a toddler might say “I’m NOT touching you”.
“Just shut the fuck up so we can hear the rest of the story!” Roach said, waving a hand to signal Stede should continue.
“Well, after he… shot himself… I started to dwell on what he said. Wandered around the forest for a while just considering all I had done to my family when I just left them behind and decided I had put Ed through enough. Once I found a road I figured out where I was and made my way back to my old house.” Stede finally let go of his legs and adjusted so they were crossed on the earth again.Then, he recounted reuniting with Mary and his sudden, stark revelation that those in his life were better off without him. He told them about Doug and his complete support of Mary's artistic career, and how she suddenly glowed in a new way. He couldn't help chuckling when he spoke about waking up to Mary hovering over him, mid murder attempt and the ensuing conversation about love.
He blushes and can’t make eye contact with any of them when he says “And I realized I’d never loved someone like this before. Mary is a wonderful woman of course but… well it was an arranged marriage and it was only a strained platonic relationship at best.” He felt a small swell of pride as he confesses his subsequent sudden recognition that Ed had chosen to turn himself over, shave his namesake beard and run away penniless all because he wanted to be with Stede, and that if Ed would have him, he would be a fool to run away from such a man. At this, the faces in the circle all turned a bit dark, but no one said anything. Stede noticed, but continued on, knowing he would have his questions answered soon. As he came to the end of his story, he leaned in, as all natural born storytellers do when they get to a particularly exciting bit. He felt a self-pleased smile come over his face and couldn’t help but slip into his storybook voices as he recounted his latest foray into fuckery. They all "oooh" and "ahhh" over Ned the giant cat, while Wee John commented that being mauled, and run over and having a piano crush your body just to fake your death was a bit much.
“Of course, I never could have pulled it off without Mary and the Widow Higgins,” Stede said modestly. “And then I stole a dinghy, and began rowing in the last direction I knew the ship was in and here I am.” He paused a moment, looking around, knowing this next conversation might be painful. “So, now, dare I ask, what happened after I left?” They all exchanged glances, unsure how to begin telling Stede that his boyfriend had completely lost his marbles and was likely trying to wreak havoc as they spoke. Before any of them got the courage to start up first, they heard him say softly “Oh, and I know he tossed most or all of my books. I came across quite a few floating along as I was rowing.” They all let out a collective breath, relieved they wouldn’t be completely bursting his bubble. Just stomping on it a bit.
So, they started telling him about what happened in his absence: Izzy’s terrible temperament and the following almost-mutiny, the resounding shock when Blackbeard suddenly reappeared without his defining facial hair, and the unsure feeling left in his wake when he disappeared into the captain’s quarters. They recount to Stede, with various faces of pity and discomfort, how he summoned them late the next day to sing his sad self-written lyrics with them as a captive audience.
“Frenchie strummed along with him and we all clapped, because clearly he was goin through somethin - and he doesn’t have the worst singing voice - but it was really weird.” Wee John said offhandedly.
“He sounded ‘eartbroken, he did.” Buttons agreed, more or less.
“But he seemed to be using your thing, you know, of talking it through with the crew. He wanted to put on a talent show to showcase everybody’s skills. He seemed fine.” Black Pete piped up. “Even asked us to call him Edward from then on. Izzy did not like that. They both went below deck and Blackbeard stayed down there til the next day. After dinner, Lucius said he was gonna go tell him details about the talent show, but they must have talked for a while cause I didn’t see him again before I fell asleep.” He looked over worriedly at Stede while everyone else gave him sympathetic glances, and the Swede awkwardly patted his arm.
“But he was different the next morning,” Oluwande said seriously, “he ordered everyone to help empty your cabin, starting with the library. Also,” he paused, looking between his fellow crew mates for reassurance before looking directly at Stede “he cut off Izzy’s toe. He didn’t explicitly say Blackbeard made him eat it, but… well, we’ve all heard the stories, and there was some blood around his mouth.” and there’s a rumble of agreement around the circle. Stede looked a little sick at this, but didn’t interrupt.
"Anyways, Izzy takes us all out in a dingy and brings us to this little bit of dirt and says we’re gonna do the talent show out here, so it can be ‘special’,” Roach says, his hands coming up to curl around the quotation marks, emphasizing how dubious he found this claim to be, “but he left Jim and Frenchie behind and says he couldn’t find Lucius.” “Oh, by the way, Jim is back.” Oluwande added, without any additional explanation.
“And they just sailed off. No goodbye or anything, just turned and left!” The Swede finished, his tone indicating he thought the sheer rudeness of it was almost as bad as being left to die itself.
Stede rocked back a bit, bringing his legs up and wrapping his arms around them again, then setting his chin on top of his knees as he considered all of this. Where did they go from here? There is no life for him to go back to, and even if there were he wouldn’t want it. He wanted Ed. But if he would leave Stede’s crew to die, would Ed ever be ready to see him again? From what his crew described, it didn’t sound like Ed was even at the helm anymore, Blackbeard seemed to be in full control once more. And if that were the case, would he be endangering his entire crew by trying to find him? As Stede began to get lost within his own thoughts, Oluwande spoke up.
“So what’s the plan for getting back to Jim and Frenchie and Lucius?” tacking on the last name as he looked over and offered a reassuring look at Black Pete.
“Are you sure you want to go after the Revenge with me? It’s probably going to be quite dangerous and I can’t guarantee you a salary anymore. I gave up all my money and land so Mary and the children would be guaranteed comfort and financial security.” Stede told them, wanting to be as transparent as possible.
“Well… Oluwande and I both have someone on the ship” Black Pete said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, still willing to make a joke in his worried state. “Oh god, Lucius told you what he walked in on, didn’t he?” groaned Olu. “He most certainly did.” Pete snorted.
“What did he walk in on?” Wee John poked, clearly understanding something must have transpired between his favorite quiet killer and their sad boyfriend seated beside him.
“Weel, I want t’go with ya to make sure I can be there for Livy, since she recognizes the ship. She’s gonna need some emotional support” Buttons successfully derailed the questioning into Jim and Olu’s private activities.
“Actually, it was one of your seagulls that led me here!” Stede interjected, smiling as the bird in question came down to land on Button’s head. “Oh aye, this is one of Karl’s children from 2 years ago, he’s named Martin. A kind soul. He must have recognized you from his visits with Karl.” The Scotsman smiled as he offered his last crumbs of hardtack to the winged beast he was currently wearing as a hat.
Roach added in his beloved set of knives and spices as his reason to go back, with Wee John acknowledging that he missed Frenchie terribly, and even the Swede said he still really wanted to sing for the talent show, adding that it wouldn’t be the same without everyone there. Stede didn’t cry out of sheer relief and joy as he wanted to, but rather put on a brave face and jumped to his feet, to rally his men as he knew a good captain should. “Then let’s go get our damned ship and crew back” he shouted, stomping his foot into the sand, with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out, and was received by cheers all around. He had, however, been rowing and moving about for the better part of 24 hours and this fact made itself ever more known, as the adrenaline that came with finding his crew and hearing their terrible ordeals slowly wore off.
“Perhaps, now that we’ve all eaten a bit, maybe we can rest for a few hours before setting off?” he suggested, the mask slipping and his voice betraying his tiredness. They all nodded, knowing his arms would be killing him when he woke up; someone like Stede, who rarely participates in heavy physical activity, would be on fire after hours of it in one day.
They all agreed to let Stede nap in a little shady spot and, after overturning the dinghy, they took turns, three at a time, sitting under it and cooling off, while sharing a bit of rum from one of the little flasks tucked into the rations bundle. They spent the rest of the afternoon that way, resting and chatting and taking little swigs to calm their nerves, knowing once the sun set it would be time to cram all seven bodies into the little row boat and set off into the unknown.