Work Text:
Jim misses Oluwande. A lot.
Being emotional was pretty frowned upon in their childhood. Well, not all emotions were against the rules, anger was allowed because at least it was useful. You can’t land a dagger in some poor dude’s heart from ten yards away if you’re crying. Jim knew that. Sadness, melancholy, depression. Those were inside feelings.
Sometimes outside feelings. When Jim rolls out of bed mid-afternoon and immediately punctures their foot on something sharp, only to find that it’s one of Olu’s earrings that he left behind before he got fucking marooned by that hijo de perra-it’s difficult. To keep it inside.
And Jim’s not going to drown in their feelings like some people would. They don’t write songs. They don’t drink. They don’t cut people’s toes off, although that was hilarious when it happened to Izzy. Little fucker deserved to be off-balance for a couple weeks.
So they don’t make their shit public, so what? Crow’s nests only seat two people for a reason. There’s enough room for Jim to climb up there at sunrise every day, and enough room for whatever piece of Olu’s clothing they’ve stolen and put over a pillow that week, and any more would be crowded.
Sunrise is nice, at least. It’s the same everywhere. Always vibrant, hot oranges and pinks, like the paints Jim’s father used to make out of flower petals. They loved those fucking paints. Jim sobbed when they finally ran out for the last time after their father’s death. And then, of course, they got reprimanded for crying. Fuck, their childhood sucked, Jim thinks with a breathless laugh.
“What are we laughing at?”
Jim whips around, pulling out their knife. Oh. Ed. Blackbeard. Whoever he was today, Jim wanted nothing to do with him. They stab their knife into the Oluwande pillow and make a move to start climbing down.
“Jim, stay. Please.”
“No, fuck you.”
“Fair.”
.
The second time it happens, Ed doesn’t say anything. Just climbs up and sits next to Jim. They let him sit in silence, until he uses the Olu pillow as back support. This time, Jim stabs the wood next to Ed’s thigh. They don’t know if it was an accident or not that they missed him.
.
The third time, he blocks the ladder so Jim can’t climb down. Fucker. His hair looks stringy, like he’s been running his hands through it for hours.
“I miss Stede.”
“We all do, Black-”
“No, I don’t want to be that anymore. Blackbeard is a drunk, and he maroons people-”
“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to change your name because you feel bad about the terrible shit you did.”
“Edward didn’t do that. Blackbeard did. I need to be Edward.”
“Do you think Lucius is in the afterlife right now, thinking about how wonderful Ed was, and how terrible Blackbeard was? They’re the same person. Move.”
Ed does.
.
Jim leaves the pillow in their room from then on. They don’t want Ed asking any questions the next time he corners them.
“Where’s the pillow?”
Ed plops down next to Jim, who’s carving shapes into the wood by their feet.
“Where’s your eyeliner?”
“Washed it off.”
Jim rolls their eyes.
“Wow. You must be really serious about this whole, good person thing.”
Ed huffs a laugh, but nods.
“I am.”
They stay in the crows nest in silence, until the sun is directly above them.
.
“What’s your whole deal?”
Ed asks the question in their second cohesive week of sitting together. So far, Ed’s respected Jim’s boundaries about talking. Ed may be a cruel bastard, but he knows when to shut up. Or, he did.
“I’m not answering that.”
“Oh, come on. You have to have a deal. Nobody knows why you are the way you are, isn’t that isolating?”
“Oluwande knew. Before you marooned him. Shut up and look at the sunrise.”
Ed sighs in resignation, not accepting their answer.
“One childhood story. That’s all I need.”
“Once, I bit a priest’s finger off, because he kept asking me questions I didn’t want to answer. Sort of a cautionary tale, huh?”
“You gonna bite my finger off?”
Jim closes their eyes, feeling the warmth of the rising sun on their neck.
Olu was warm. Constantly warm, it was a little concerning. Jim checked his temperature while he was asleep more times than they could count. But he was never sick. Just radiated warmth.
He gave warmth and security to everyone who didn’t deserve it, because that was Oluwande.
.
Jim half expects Ed’s new-found goodness to be private. An act, to get Jim to forgive him and let their guard down so he could kill them, or something. Why else would he be interested in “their deal” all of a sudden?
But it’s not just for Jim. They watch Ed, throughout the weeks, watch the way he interacts with people. He’s not the good ol’ fuckery loving Ed that Stede knew, but it’s a start. He starts paying the crew a salary. Gives them time off. And of course, keeps up his meetings with Jim.
.
“What’s your favorite food?
Jim raises their eyebrows. This is not the kind of soul-searching question they’ve been getting and ignoring every day for the past few weeks. This is a question they can answer.
“Oranges. I grew up with a tree in our yard, so we had oranges with every meal. I like marmalade, too.”
Ed smiles with an unfamiliar sadness at Jim’s last sentence. His eyes unfocus, and Jim’s afraid they’ve said something to set him off.
Then, he meets Jim’s gaze with mischief in his eyes, and grins.
“I’ll be right back.”
.
Marmalade and toast become a part of their morning meetings from then on.
.
This morning, Jim asks the questions.
“Why did you abandon the crew?”
Ed hears the unspoken, “Why not me? Why Oluwande?”
“I was hurt, and not thinking clearly. I-I’m-”
“Why did you kill Lucius?”
“I was hurt.”
Jim picks at the wood they sit on and mutters.
“Write in a goddamn diary, puta madre.”
“I don’t know what that means, but I’m sorry. If I could take it back, I would.”
“Why were you hurt?”
This time, Ed can’t answer the question.
.
Jim is fidgeting with their knife one day, before Ed gets to the crows nest. They throw their knife across the deck and land it directly in the center of the wheel’s “bulls-eye.” They yawn and sit back down.
Underneath them, Ed yells, “Holy fuck! Teach me how to do that!”
Jim rolls their eyes, but climbs down the ladder to get more knives.
.
If they’re not eating marmalade and watching the sunset, they’re throwing knives. Or, Jim is throwing knives at the target, and Ed is throwing knives into the wood of the ship.
“You’re getting better,” Jim yells from behind a post, out of Ed’s line of fire.
“I really don’t think I am,” Ed projects back, “I don’t think Izzy’s foot is going to be okay again.”
Jim cackles at the memory from yesterday. Izzy getting his foot mutilated for the second time in six months, by the same man, in the same foot. It was like a Christmas present.
Shaking their head, Jim remembers what they were going to say.
“No, you’re still shit at knife throwing. I mean, you’re getting better. I can see it in your face.”
“Oh, uh. I guess I am. Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Jim yelps and jumps back behind the post, as Ed throws another knife.
“You have to warn me!”
Ed giggles, followed by Jim. When the rest of the crew comes out for breakfast, they see the two pirates bent over, clutching their sides in a fit of laughter.
.
Finally, Jim answers Ed’s first question, two months after he asks it. They’re sitting in the crows nest, finishing off one of the last jars of marmalade. The toast’s been forgotten. They’re pirates, they can eat with their hands.
“My father was an artist. A farmer first, so we could be comfortable. He made all the paints he used out of flower petals. I miss him.”
It’s concise, with little detail, and a lot of heart. It’s a very Jim answer. Ed smiles.
“Thank you.”
“My turn. What happened with Stede?”
Ed throws his head back in a laugh at Jim’s eager expression.
“Oh, fuck you! Okay. I’ll tell you, just, don’t judge me.”
“I have a lot of things to make fun of you about, and I haven’t yet. Tell me.”
“Okay,” Ed takes a deep breath, “We kissed.”
Jim smiles.
“Obviously.”
Ed returns the grin, but it falters as he recounts the memories to Jim.
“We kissed. And we had a plan to escape the academy. Or, I had a plan, and I guess Stede had a different plan. We were gonna meet at a certain time. Sunrise. I was there, and he wasn’t. So I came back to the ship without him, because what the fuck else was I supposed to do?”
Oh. Ed stares straight ahead. Jim’s never been good at comforting people. They put a hand over Ed’s.
“Your hand is covered in marmalade. Kind of ruins the moment.”
Jim pulls back to wipe their hand on their sleeve.
“Sorry.”
Ed scoots over to sit side by side with Jim. He puts his head on Jim’s shoulder.
.
“I want to cut my hair.”
“If you cut your hair, I’ll shave my beard.”
“Deal.”
.
“I killed a prussian once.”
Ed pops his head up from where he’s laying.
“No way!”
He motions with his hand, and knocks the marmalade off of the platform, landing directly on Izzy’s head. Izzy yells, startled. Ed stifles a laugh, before Jim can remember to.
“Who’s up there? I hear laughing. Ivan, I swear to god-”
Jim and Ed slap their hands over their mouths, trying desperately to not get caught. Jim wipes tears out of their eyes as Izzy leaves.
.
“Jim. Jim. Jim!”
Ed hits Jim in the shoulder with every mention of their name, waking them up and pointing at something in the distance. A ship. Jim jumps up and starts climbing down the ladder.
“Oh shit! Is it them?”
“I don’t fucking know, why would I know?”
“Oh my god, it’s them.”
Reaching the bottom of the ladder, Jim knows the ship in the distance. It’s a british navyship. They stole a british navyship. Jim cackles, about to explain it to Ed, when they see him on the deck. He folds over into the fetal position, breathing heavily.
“Hey, woah, calm down. It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Ed won’t stop hyperventilating. He mutters to himself.
“I was the kraken. I was the kraken and I hurt all of them.”
“Oh my god, you’re okay. I-I’m here. I’m not gonna let them, mutiny you or whatever.”
Ed looks up like a puppy, tears filling his eyes. His voice cracks.
“You won’t?”
Jim makes a mental note to not be in the area when Ed and Stede have their tear-filled reunion, because god, this is brutal.
“No. I won’t. You’ll be-”
Jim’s voice stops short when their eyes catch Oluwande’s. He’s wearing his usual cloth shirt and pants, colored teal. He’s wearing his beanie, too, also teal. This nerd is wearing all teal. God, Jim missed him. Olu beams, and the sun seems to be shining directly onto Jim, like a spotlight, warming them up after a long patch of frigid winter.
Jim sees Stede jump up and down on the ship, yelling something unintelligible. He holds up a small piece of red fabric, and suddenly they know exactly what he’s saying.
Edward stands alongside Jim, looking at their respective people, sharing lovesick expressions.
It’s a nice moment.
“Holy shit, is that Lucius?”
Jim jumps a mile as they see Lucius standing eerily still, arms crossed, making direct eye contact with Ed. Creepy fucker. Jim looks at Ed, smirking.
“Oh, you’re fucked.”