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Once the tears start coming, Edward’s knees pulled up in the bathtub, a blanket protectively over him like a shield from the reality he has to face coupled with the dark memories of his past, they don’t stop. Not when he’s taken from the grip of his painful memories, and not when Stede offers his immediate, unthinking forgiveness, that’s for certain.
That one might have even made it worse. The idea that this man saw such good in him that he was able to excuse an entire murder plot which would end in his own demise, to look right past it. Even offered a hand in friendship, just to comfort him. Ed had felt his guts twist with wretched guilt inside him, unable to look at the man for a long moment. Not until he said the whole thing could be forgotten, put a solid hand on his shoulder that Ed immediately leaned his face against without hesitation, craving the contact that made him feel human, alive and worthy of affection, against all odds.
"Alright," Stede seemed to suddenly decide something right in that moment, "Sit up, come on."
"What?" Ed asked, bewildered by this sudden request, reluctant to be pulled from the safety of the bathtub, nice and enclosed and fairly small, safe from the consequences of his own harebrained schemes come back round to rear their ugly monstrous heads.
"Come on now, budge up a bit there," Stede encouraged, helping to lean Ed up with his broad and solid yet soft hands, "Yep, just like that, there’s a good boy."
Ed ignored the warmth in his stomach that accompanied that particular praise, the glowing heat that tried to pool in him, still resolved to feeling miserable. Stede clambered into the tub behind him, fairly gracelessly. It was a tight fit, uncomfortable for a few moments while Stede tried to arrange himself so neither of them was jabbing the other with a misplaced elbow or cutting off circulation to a limb. But after that was all taken account of, Stede somehow striking a balance that by rights should not have been achievable in the small metal tub, Ed felt as if he could simply melt in the other man’s arms, safe and warm and…
He could not trick himself into hoping for the last item on that list. He would not allow himself that, not at this moment. Not after what he hadn’t had the strength to stamp out at the beginning, using the fear he had for decades to command his crew into following his orders without question. He should have more control than that.
The tears kept pouring down his face even as Stede’s arms enveloped him, the comforting calm scent of the other man surrounding him as completely as the safety blanket he clung to. Some distracted melody was being hummed by the other man, shapeless yet beautiful. Reverberations came forwards through Stede’s chest, Edward being able to feel each note against his spine.
After what could have been a few minutes or a couple hours, Stede spoke up again, “There, see? It’s alright, Edward. We’re alright.”
If at some point the tears had stopped running down Ed’s face and into his beard, they restarted at that. A racking sob shook through his ribcage, demanding its presence break down any imagined walls he’d been keeping up.
For his part, Stede only held on to him all the more, not constrictive in his grip, but solid and steady. Ed felt the other man press his lips to the top of his head, then whisper into his hair, “That’s right, let it all out. I’ve got you. I promise it’s all going to be okay.”
“How can you be so sure,” Ed finally asked, pushing back against the platitude, wanting to get to the root of this deranged lack of self preservation, “Stede, I just admitted to you-”
He cut himself off, the words stopping up his throat, nearly choking him. Bad enough that he admitted to it, bad enough that he had planned to do it, bad enough that he had even told Izzy in the first place that he meant to kill this other man. The shame had a stranglehold on him.
“Oh, come on,” Stede said, as if it were just that easy to brush the whole thing off, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of. And, moreso, we’ve all considered doing things that are even worse. Besides, we’re supposed to be pretending that never happened.”
Well, there it is. Never look at whatever their strange relationship is head on, never try to untwist the way they’ve become so hopelessly tangled together in such a short time to see what exactly it is that lies beneath, what rot might be developing in there at the core. Ed was used to that, to having to pretend what’s happening isn’t huge and earth shattering and something he could be swept away in if he let go for just a second. He was used to playing it cool, it could never really last, not out here, not for him.
“Do you need to talk about it?” Stede asked quietly, considerately, “If you want to…”
“No, we don’t have to,” Ed said quickly, not feeling quite up to once again cracking open his ribcage and exposing his entire heart and soul for the other man, scared that this would be the time Stede Bonnet finally sees what ugly unpleasant things they are, broken and scarred and sin-stained, “I just want to stay here for a while.”
Please just hold me and tell me it’s alright, even if I don’t deserve it, even if it’s not, just let me live this lie a little longer.
“As long as you want, love.”
And so there was the word Ed had been trying to think around. Perhaps said by accident, perhaps not really meant for him. But maybe… maybe it was.
“Tell me something. Tell me the worst thing you’ve done, whatever it is that keeps you up at night.”
Because there was something that kept the man in a state of unrest, some underlying guilt that plagued him. Stede was quiet for a while, so long Ed thought maybe he didn’t hear, maybe Ed didn’t actually say the words out loud, maybe he’s insulted the other man. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. Ed is content to lay here in this small tub, held in the arms of this strange, strange man.
“I abandoned my family, my children. Didn’t even have the courage to tell them I was leaving, I took off in the middle of the night without an explanation. A wife and two kids, what anyone would consider a reasonably happy life. And I just… left them.”
Ed was silent a moment, contemplating, then, “There are worse things a father could do,” Ed himself knew that quite well.
Stede didn’t answer that time, just rested his head on top of Ed’s again, quietly resuming his humming, tune somehow seeming forlorn this time instead of peaceful and calming, Ed regretting that he had opened his mouth at all.
“Sorry,” he tried tentatively, worried that he’d ruined the moment, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Wasn’t even fully sure why he’d asked, aside from feeling like he’d bared so much of his awful self and he wanted to know everything in return.
“You haven’t done anything to apologize for,” Stede told him instead, voice sounding so fully convinced by what he was saying it was almost difficult not to believe it, “Not in my books, anyway.”
And this time Ed feels completely at peace with the stretch of time that follows without either of them uttering a word, content to lay there and listen to Stede hum the same few comforting notes over and over, feeling his own heartbeat settle down until it finally seemed time to resurface to the rest of the crew.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” Stede asked as Ed sat up, “Sometimes you’ve got to wallow for a bit, before you’re ready to feel better.”
Ed offered a small twitch of a smile that he knows was probably mostly swallowed up by his beard in way of reply, but Stede returned it all the same, broad and brilliant. He doesn’t want to say anything aloud and risk upsetting Stede, but he’s willing to bet the other man was a good father for the time he was in his children’s lives. He’s caring and kind and nurturing in a way that just seems effortless and natural, and it extends out around him, causing others to want to act similarly. Fucking bizarre.
Stede extracted himself from the tub first, then offered a helping hand, which Ed accepted, hungry for more physical contact like it was an ache inside of him, growing all the time.
“Yeah,” Stede said happily, maybe to himself, “That’s much better.”
-
It’s well past dawn when they’ve removed Izzy’s sword from Stede, a few of them able to take it out swiftly and Roach on hand to patch him up, neat and efficient. Ed insisted on helping the man back to his cabin to rest, Stede calling after that they all ought to get some rest after the excitement they had over the night. A bunch of light chuckles and half smiles, softly shaking their heads were the crew’s responses, fondly amused by their captain’s penchant for caring for their immediate physical state over the duties any of them had on board the ship, then they quietly divvied these chores into shifts as Stede limped away, most of his weight supported by Ed.
Ed was as gentle and careful as he could manage as he deposited Stede on the bed, making sure he was arranged comfortably and sitting gingerly at the foot of the bunk so as not to disturb him, mimicking the moments he spent watching the man when they first met. Stede reached his hand out to Ed, who clasped it in his own, only for the man to gently tug him forward.
“Come and have a lie down, Ed. You deserve it after the night you had, and I think I could use the company.”
Ed thought about resisting just a moment, protesting for the state the other man was in, but couldn’t really bring himself to do so, wanting so badly the simple intimacy that came with being close to Stede. He lay on his side, very careful keeping a couple inches space between them so he wouldn’t accidentally hurt Stede even though he was on the man’s right side.
“How are you holding up?” Stede asked, gentle and concerned.
Ed snorted a bit, unable to stop himself, “You’re a madman, you know that, right?”
Stede turned his head a bit to the side to look at Ed properly, uncertain smile creeping across his features, “So I’ve heard several times, but I’d love to know what I’ve done to deserve that title this time around.”
“In the past 12 hours alone you’ve learned of a murder plot against you, had Izzy Hands challenge you to a fuckin’ duel, been run through as a result, and had to stay stuck to a mast with a sword for a bit before anyone could get it to budge. And here you are, Stede Bonnet, worried over me.”
“Well,” Stede said, voice carefully reasonable, “It hasn’t been an easy night for you either, I imagine. You and Izzy knew each other a long time, and he went and got himself banished from the ship. I didn’t like the man, but it’s okay if you’re upset about it.”
“M’not upset about it,” Ed said, not being completely truthful, “Bastard went and did it to himself for no reason. We all could have worked it out.”
Ed wasn’t sure there was any universe that he would have been able to make Izzy see there could have been peace between the three of them, but that was neither here nor there. It was done, Izzy was gone because of his own choices. The ache was sharp in his chest, but he didn’t want to wallow in it. Best to imagine it’s not there at all, no need to further complicate all this.
Something in Ed’s face must have betrayed the storm of hurt and relief and betrayal that was brewing in him because Stede looked sympathetic, though he respected Ed’s choice not to talk about it, “You don’t have to be all the way on the edge there, you know. Plenty of room for the both of us, come on over.”
“You’re recovering from your second stab wound in very few weeks, mate. I don’t want to be responsible for making that worse.”
“Oh, come on,” Stede told him dismissively, “You’re not going to hurt me. We’ll just have a nice, quick little nap, the two of us. Then we deal with whatever it is this day will bring us.”
Stede brought a gentle arm around Ed, encouraging him to come in closer, so he was pressed against the other man in a warm line, still careful to avoid jostling him.
“You’re right,” Ed admitted, resting his head carefully on the man’s shoulder, “That’s much better.”
It was a nice view in front of the window, the blue waves reflecting the early morning light into the cabin, dancing across Stede’s resting figure, his warm brown eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the edges with a tired smile.
“I’d have to agree.”