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Izzy was having The Worst Day Ever Of His Life. Including that one time he threw up on deck. Including that time a good-for-nothing posh wanker elbowed his way into Edward and Izzy’s life and broke it forever.
This day was only worse than those because he was currently sitting about three feet away from said posh wanker, and without an escape route.
At least on a ship he had the option of simply jumping overboard.
Izzy spat on the ground, and let his head fall back against the tightly packed earth of the pit they were in. Stede fucking Bonnet was standing, stupid hands planted on stupid hips and dumb fucking face contorted into a frown as he looked up at the sky. Somehow his clothes -- blessedly less of an eyesore now, but still annoyingly him – had retained their newly-washed look, and he barely had a hair out of place despite their tumble down the hole.
“Well?” Bonnet asked, for some reason impatient.
Izzy let the silence drag out before he answered. “What?”
“Plans, man! Any ideas for how we get up and out?”
Izzy rolled his eyes. He was cradling his right arm against his chest, trying his best to not be obvious about it – he’d landed wrong on the way down, and he could only hope it was merely bruised. He could not afford to be down his sword arm.
“It’s too high for either of us to reach, there are no footholds on the walls and no tools down here.”
“And what, you give up? Just like that?”
He stared at Bonnet for a moment, before shaking his head and closing his eyes. He truly did not want to deal with Bonnet’s particular grousing just now.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t close his ears.
“Izzy!” came Bonnet’s whiny voice, markedly closer than it had been moments previous. “Surely you must have some ideas?”
“My idea,” Izzy said through gritted teeth, “is to wait down here until someone passes by. The path was clearly not unused, and Blackbeard will send someone to look for you.”
“For us,” Bonnet corrected, seemingly automatically.
“For you ,” Izzy insisted. It was important, for some reason, that Bonnet was clear on this. Izzy hoped he didn’t probe further, because fuck knew he had no intention of digging up that particular chest.
Bonnet didn’t probe. Instead, when Izzy finally deigned to look at him, he had a peculiar frown. It wasn’t the same as before, when he had been assessing their situation. This one was softer somehow – wetter .
Izzy looked away before he could analyse it further.
Bonnet sighed, and finally sat down. For some godforsaken reason he sat down right next to Izzy , when there was a perfectly good sitting-place right over where he had stood. Away from Izzy.
Despite Izzy’s best glare, Bonnet sat just close enough that they would touch if either moved a little. He sat with his knees up, leaned his temple on them so he could look at Izzy, and sighed.
Izzy was… he didn’t even fucking know. Something in his chest constricted, and stretched, and tingled down his arms when he noticed Bonnet’s size. Izzy had never considered Bonnet a particularly large man. In fact, he had figured him for a sort of waif - willowy and weak, with the soft hands of a gentleman and the weak ankles of someone who decidedly did not belong on a ship. Why, when he had been in close proximity to the man many a time – had fought him twice – Izzy had no idea. Bonnet just gave that impression, he supposed.
In truth, Bonnet easily had a few inches on Izzy (Izzy was used to this, had learnt to give his own impression of height and size, to not be intimidated by the need to look up at someone), he was surprisingly broad shouldered, and… and Fang had mentioned once how shapely his calves were, and ever since then Izzy had found it impossible to not notice Bonnet’s bloody goddamn calves .
Izzy was wider than Bonnet, and definitely stronger (more weathered, scarred, calloused), but something stirred in him when he realised that even curled up like he was, Bonnet had a couple of inches on him.
“I suppose you’re right. Someone will come, eventually. In the mean time, though– oh!” Suddenly he was animated again: he let his knees fall down so he sat cross-legged, and reached his hands towards Izzy. “You’re hurt!” he exclaimed.
Izzy immediately recoiled, and cradled his arm closer to his chest.
“It’s fine,” he muttered.
“You are clearly hurt, Izzy. Let me have a look–”
“It’s fine , fuck off,” he bit off, as he scooted as far away from Bonnet as he could without losing any remaining dignity. That at least shut Bonnet up, his hands frozen mid-air. The wet frown was back again. Izzy sneered.
Bonnet leaned back against the dirt-wall, and resigned to fidget with his sleeve and chew the inside of his mouth.
***
It was night proper, and still no one had come. Or if they had, they had tread remarkably lightly on the path past the pit.
Thank fuck it was a clear night and a full moon.
They were both huddled up, in each their little part of the hole. It was a surprisingly chilly night. It often got cold at sea, but to his chagrin Izzy had somehow grown too used to the humid heat of the Caribbean.
He was cold.
Not cold enough to make him shiver, or even cold in a way that would ever annoy him when not stuck in a fucking pit with Stede fucking Bonnet. When he had work to focus on, or ready access to his bunk.
Izzy was bored, and Izzy was cold.
Sullen, he glanced over at Bonnet. The man was curled up tight, arms around his knees and face buried between them. Was he–? Izzy squinted at him. Yes, there. A slight tremor ran through him.
Typical. Posh wanker who played at being a proper pirate couldn’t handle a slightly chilled night.
Izzy couldn’t get himself to roll his eyes.
He shifted his weight, and looked away.
***
Bonnet was full-on shivering now, noticeable even without focusing on him. Izzy tried to ignore it. He lasted about twenty seconds.
“For crying out loud,” he exclaimed, “it’s not freezing , Bonnet!”
Bonnet, in response, looked up with a pout and big wet eyes. “I’m cold.”
Izzy could feel the conflicting emotions flitting over his face. It had gotten somewhat colder in the past hour.
He thought about his bunk. He thought about Bonnet sitting beside him, shoulder never touching because Izzy’s shoulder didn’t even reach Bonnet’s. He thought about the pleasing heat of another body.
This time, he did roll his eyes. “Get over here,” he bit out.
Bonnet blinked. “Beg pardon?”
“I won’t repeat myself.”
In a sudden haste, Bonnet scrambled up and sat besides Izzy. Much closer than he had earlier. Pressed up against his side, in fact.
A small part of Izzy wished there had been a corner in this godforsaken hole, so Bonnet could press him against it and he could just stop thinking entirely under the weight.
Another, bigger part tried to not think about how warm the left side of his body felt.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Bonnet said. Izzy frowned at him. “About the arm. I cannot help you anyway, there was no reason to make you jostle it.”
“...yeah, whatever.”
Bonnet squinted at him. Izzy bared his teeth. “You know, Izzy,” Bonnet sniffed, “you could really do with some manners. It doesn’t hurt, saying thank you.”
With that he huddled against the wall and, consequently, against Izzy. Izzy no longer felt cold.
***
Bonnet had drifted off. Izzy knew this for two reasons:
- He no longer spoke, and
- He had slowly sunk down until his head was leaned on Izzy’s shoulder.
Izzy himself was wide awake. His right arm throbbed.
***
When Izzy woke, it was to a grumbling stomach, an aching arm, and a nose buried in something soft and lavender-scented. When he realised his position – curled with his left side against the earthen wall, face buried in Stede fucking Bonnet’s dirt-blonde hair, and one of Stede fucking Bonnet’s arms around his midsection – he scrambled back and got on his feet. He was a bit unsteady, he hadn’t moved in too long and the hunger was letting itself known.
He stood staring at Bonnet (who had woken up from the sudden absence of support under his head, but was still slow with sleep) for one harsh breath before he turned to pace.
***
“You know,” Bonnet began. They were seated apart once more, Izzy with his arm cradled and Bonnet with a twig he had found somewhere on the ground. “I nearly killed a man, back on Barbados.”
Izzy barked a laugh.
“I did!” Bonnet insisted, without a hint of a smile.
“What, with passive aggression ? Didn’t imagine that trick would work twice.”
Bonnet wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead he was digging in the earth with the twig. “A dagger, actually, right at his throat.”
His tone of voice intrigued Izzy. It wasn’t Bonnet’s usual too-jovial self, nor that whiny voice he used sometimes. It was almost as if he wasn’t speaking to Izzy at all, instead merely exorcising his thoughts. As if he needed to speak them into existence to then be rid of them.
“It was strange,” Bonnet continued, “I didn’t even hesitate. As soon as his hand was on my shoulder I just–” At this Bonnet made some kind of gesture, as if tossing something – some one – down in front of him, “–like that. Didn’t even think about it! One moment I was standing, a perfectly ordinary gentleman – well, not quite… oh let’s not get into that… –a perfectly ordinary gentleman , and the next wham! Man on the table and my dagger at his throat.”
Bonnet sucked in a breath, as if surprised by his own monologue. He was still not looking at Izzy, still staring at the spot he had been digging into while he talked. Izzy, on his part, was staring at Bonnet. For some reason he thought of their duel – of how Bonnet had fought: erratic and inexperienced, with swipes by the broadside and gunpowder thrown in Izzy’s face. Of how Stede had allowed himself to be stabbed. Stabbed through the gut and pinned to the mast, willingly.
“Did he deserve it?” Izzy asked. He hadn’t meant to, but the words were out now.
“No,” Bonnet answered. And then, in a small voice, he added, “but I did enjoy it.”
“You liked being in control.”
Now Bonnet looked at him, and there was an understanding in his eyes. “Yes.”
Izzy worked his jaw. “I threw up after my first kill.”
“Really?” Bonnet did that thing where his whole face seemed to move with his eyebrows.
“I was thirteen. I’d slaughtered animals before, but it’s different, with a person.”
Bonnet looked like he might protest, but he wisely kept his tongue.
“First ship I was on, the bo’sun… assumed certain liberties, with the boys. Tried himself on me. I ripped that fucker’s stomach up as best I could, with a glass shard. Tasted bile for days, and my hands wouldn’t stop fuckin’ shaking, but no one laid a fucking finger on me after that. And I liked that bit.”
Bonnet was quiet, but he didn’t seem disgusted, or shocked. He just seemed like he was thinking. “You’ve killed since, too.”
“Of course,” Izzy snorted.
“...For Ed?”
Izzy stilled. “He is my captain.”
“Yes, yes, I understand that you kill as part of your pirate life. I am not stupid, Israel.”
The name caught him off guard. No one ever called him Israel these days. No one had for about two decades. For some reason, Izzy didn’t feel angry, or even annoyed. He swallowed. “Could’ve fuckin’ fooled me.”
“You’ve killed for Ed , haven’t you? You’re protective of him.”
It was strange. Izzy had words he wanted to speak out loud, to Stede fucking Bonnet of all people. He wanted to talk about this. It felt correct, down here, away from everyone else; as if they were behind the curtain for a spell, and could relax their respective roles.
Yet it felt like pulling teeth.
He wished he had something to occupy his hands with. Had he been a fool, he would have reached up to toy with the ring on his necktie. But he was not, and he knew Bonnet was watching him.
Fucking Bonnet.
Izzy let out a breath that could almost be a laugh.
“I’ve known Blackbeard a long time, and Edward even longer. I reckon we’re the only people to truly know each other, all we’ve been through. But since you arrived…” Izzy paused, and shook his head, “before that, really. I’ve had to confront that I do not know him as well as I thought.”
“And that scares you?”
Izzy snorted. “The Spanish Armada scare me. The doldrums scare me. A noose scares me. No, this is… this means he is malleable, do you understand?”
Bonnet tipped his head to the side in that pet-like fashion he did sometimes. “Surely we are all malleable, no? We all change as we grow–”
“You’re not hearing me, Bonnet. Malleable means soft, malleable means you lose yourself. Malleable means society, or propriety, or bloody fucking… civilization can absorb you and bend you to its will! If Edward, if Blackbeard is malleable, I lose him.”
There was no more than a hum from Bonnet after Izzy’s little tirade. They sat in silence for a few beats. Izzy’s head was all distorted and loud, and he was so fucking uncomfortable – his whole body was thrumming, his arm ached, and his ass was both cold and numb.
“Is that why you hated me?”
“ What? ”
“Because I am malleable?”
Izzy couldn’t help the harsh laugh that exploded from him. “If there is one thing you are not, Stede Bonnet, it’s fucking malleable. You are loudly and annoyingly unchangeable.”
They locked eyes then, and Izzy could swear his heart was giving out. Bonnet beamed at him, and something in Izzy’s chest fluttered.
***
“Do you know, I think if we combined our heights we would be just about tall enough for me to reach the edge there.”
Izzy, stood beside Bonnet as they looked up, nodded. “Aye, we might just be– you?”
“What?”
“For you to reach the top?”
“Well… yes, I’m taller, aren’t I?”
Bonnet stared at Izzy as if he was being intentionally dense. Izzy had a sudden urge to make his nose bleed.
“If we stood on top of each other,” Izzy ground out, “we would be the same fuckin’ height, numbskull!”
“Alright, no need to be aggressive. We were getting along splendidly! Besides, your arm is wounded.”
Izzy glared at him. Slowly, deliberately, he stretched out his arm, and flexed his fingers. It felt warm, in a way it definitely shouldn’t be, and he couldn’t quite stretch out his little finger, and it hurt like a motherfucker.
“I’ll be on top,” he said, and promptly regretted his wording. Bonnet only raised his brows, and nodded – Izzy could see a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth. He had to remind himself to not stare at Stede fucking Bonnet’s mouth like an imbecile.
It turned out that climbing with only one functional arm was, in fact, a bad idea. After many kicks to and stomped on various delicate regions, Izzy had managed to get one foot up on Bonnet’s shoulder, his crotch was perilously close to Bonnet’s fucking face, and he was leaning all his weight on the dirt wall. Somehow he slipped, or Bonnet lost his grip on Izzy, or some divine entity intervened, and Izzy fell–
Only to be caught in two surprisingly well formed arms. Not strong, per se, but decidedly… present, and holding Izzy god-damned Hands in a bridal carry.
Izzy could feel his face heating up, as he stared up into Bonnet’s smiling eyes.
“Let go of me!” he exclaimed, and scrambled out of Bonnet’s arms. His face was burning – from anger, of course. Bonnet, infuriatingly, seemed to think him amusing, by the way he brought a hand up to hide his smile.
After brushing off his clothes and straightening himself, Izzy cleared his throat. “Fine,” he grit out, “I’ll be–” don’t say it “–the base.”
Bonnet raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, as if he was physically holding himself back from saying I told you so . In response, Izzy sneered only a little at him.
“I’ll only be able to brace one of your legs, Bonnet, so you better be a steady climber.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I climbed trees all the time when i was a boy. Easiest way to get away from– Well, never mind. Up I get!”
Izzy rolled his eyes, but he had to admit (reluctantly, and never out loud) that he was impressed at the speed and stability with which Bonnet climbed onto his shoulders. Soon enough Bonnet was on Izzy’s shoulders, and Izzy was bracing one of his legs with his left arm.
“Blast.”
“What?”
“I can’t quite… Hang on, just let me–” Bonnet shifted his feet back, got his toes on Izzy’s shoulders, who let out a grunt at the shoe grinding into him. “Sorry Izzy, I just need to– There! Israel, could you stand on you tip toes, please?”
“ Why .”
“Well I’ve only got my fingertips on the edge, you see, so we could use the extra height. Oh!”
Izzy had let go of Bonnet’s leg to brace himself against the wall, and lifted up on his toes.
“That’s it!”
With a scramble – and more than a few kicks to Izzy’s head, thank-you – Bonnet was suddenly out of the hole. It felt surreal, in a way. For a day and a night, and then some, they had been stuck down here, and now Bonnet was just… out. Just like that. And had left Izzy behind.
Izzy frowned up. Bonnet’s face popped over the edge, excitement written plain on it. “We did it!” he exclaimed. “You wait down here, I’ll run for help.” And then he was gone again.
“Where the fuck would I go,” Izzy grumbled to himself.
He dropped down, and prepared for a long wait. His arm, jostled in the climb, ached.
***
Bonnet was probably at the ship by now. There was really no reason to come back for Izzy, he knew that. They may struggle for a few days, but Lucius knew his letters and numbers, and the crew wasn’t entirely incompetent.
In truth, there was no need for Izzy. And Bonnet could just let him rot in here. Gods knew Izzy would have done the same.
He sighed.
No, he wouldn’t have. Not even before their little bonding session would he have.
Somehow, with his back against the dirt wall and his arms half-crossed (holding his hurt arm, more like), Izzy eventually dozed off. He only realised when he woke with a start at Bonnet’s voice from above.
“Izzy! I’ve brought help! Let’s get you out of there.”
Izzy could feel his mouth hanging slightly open. He couldn’t even force a witty reply, as the three people Bonnet has apparently gotten to help him worked on lowering what looked like a plank with a piece of rope tied to each end.
It definitely was a plank with a piece of rope tied to each end.
“What the fuck is this meant to be?” he finally got out.
“Your rescue! Come on, Izzy, get on. You sit on the plank, and we will haul you up.”
Izzy was sceptical, but he only hesitated for a moment before gingerly sitting down.
It was only the work of a moment to get him out. He almost marvelled at this. Such an inescapable place, and he was out within a breath or two.
As Izzy stood up and brushed off his clothes, Bonnet dismissed the three people who had helped with grasped hands and a smile. Izzy stared at him.
When he turned around and caught Izzy’s eyes, Bonnet raised his eyebrows in question.
“What?” he added, for good measure.
“Could’ve left me.”
Bonnet frowned. “What on earth do you mean?”
“In the pit. No need to come back for me.” He stepped closer to Bonnet, and was vaguely pleased when the ponce didn’t move away.
“Don’t be absurd, Izzy. I couldn’t just leave you there!”
“Why?” Izzy growled. He was in Bonnet’s face now. “It’d be easy enough to excuse. I died in the fall. You came back for me and someone had got to me first. Doesn’t fucking matter, no would’ve looked into it. Why come back at all?” He was angry. He didn’t know why – refused to examine why – but it was a familiar emotion and one he knew how to feel. “Because you would have to live with it?” he sneered.
Bonnet didn’t answer, but there was a curiously hard look around his eyes. He sighed, and Izzy didn’t know what to do about that. Slowly, with deliberate movement, and eyes locked on his, Bonnet reached out and took Izzy’s hand. His unharmed hand, which meant the ungloved one, which meant Izzy could feel every point of contact between them.
Bonnet tangled their fingers together, and squeezed. Izzy, who must be going insane, let him. “We should head back. Ed’ll be worrying his head off, won’t he.” And then he smiled at Izzy, and while Izzy doubted he could take up even a third of the space in Edward’s head as Bonnet was, all he could do was nod.