Chapter Text
Frenchie will be the first to admit that he would never place bets on Stede Bonnet punching first mate (God for all you care) Israel Hands hard enough to give the man a bloody nose. But he watched it happen. Watched as Stede punched him a second time, saying something to the man that made him stay down. Blackbeard, no, ED, curled up on the deck looking at Stede like he was both terrified and awestruck, even backing away until the moment Stede put his hand on Eds face and Ed just melted, fell apart like Stede had pulled on the stitching holding him together and let him unravel on the deck.
Stede looked different, his skin a little burnt from the sun, his hair longer and a bit of stubble on his chin. Frenchie wasn’t exactly sure what had happened between Ed and Stede, and he definitely didn’t know what had happened to make Stede look like an actual sailor and not just a man playing at it. Whatever it was, it looked good on the man. He looked like he was sure of himself, sure of what he wanted. And it looked to Frenchie like what he wanted was Ed, at the moment. The affection in his eyes burned Frenchie from here, and he looked away, feeling like an intruder in a private moment.
With Izzy out of the way Frenchie watched his old crew mates climb aboard with no trouble. Ivan and Fang patted Black Pete on the back, happy to see the man. Wee John waved to Frenchie, who smiled and waved back almost immediately. “Can’t say I’m glad to be back here.” A voice came from behind him.
“FUCK.” Frenchie jumped out of his skin as he turned around to see Lucius, a bit sunburned and worn. His clothes were different, a bit fancier than his old ones, and he looked annoyed. “Where have you been? I was worried about you!”
“Aw, how sweet.” Lucius smiled at him and swatted at his shoulder before taking a deep breath, “Blackbeard threw me off the boat.”
“Ed?”
“No. It was definitely Blackbeard. Never seen the man look like that. Terrifying.”
Frenchie looked him over, trying to process it. “Are you a ghost?”
Lucius squinted at Frenchie in the sunlight, “What? No?”
“Are you a Witch?” Frenchie took several steps back, stumbling over a bit of rope that had been left out on the deck. Lucius sighed and put his hands on his hips.
“NO Frenchie. I’m not a witch, or a vampire, or a ghost, or whatever else. Wouldn't you know it, I can swim? I managed to stay afloat until Fang pulled me out. Had a fever for about a week, but here I am, alive.”
“Oh.”
“BABE!” Before Frenchie could say anything else Black Pete was shoving past him to get to Lucius. They hugged each other, obviously happy, and Frenchie slipped away. He had to find Oluwande, tell him where to find Jim. But to his surprise, Jim and Oluwande were already on the deck, hugging each other tight. Oluwande pressed a kiss to their temple and Jim just buried their face deeper into his shoulder.
Frenchie made eye contact with Ivan, who just shrugged, walking over. “I thought you were supposed to keep them locked up?”
“Eh. You guys were my crew for a while too. Once I saw Bonnet it just felt right, to let them go.” Frenchie felt himself smile for the first time since Ed became Blackbeard again.
“Thanks babe.” He said, patting his shoulder as he walked by. Everyone was walking out, talking to each other and catching up. Stede and Ed had disappeared, probably into the private quarters. Frenchie did not want to be there when Stede saw just what Blackbeard had done to the place.
The only person who wasn’t moving was Izzy. He sat on the deck, looking a bit lost, staring at the now empty vessel still connected by a plank of wood. Someone would have to do something about that, but it probably wasn’t important right now. Both ships seemed to be anchored.
Frenchie wanted to leave Izzy there, or maybe say something smart about how the man had been beaten by Stede Bonnet twice now. But something in the defeated stance of the little man stopped him. Frenchie never liked kicking someone when they were down.
“You need a hand?”
“Fuck off.” Izzy said, still holding his nose. Frenchie sighed and leaned down, pulling a semi clean handkerchief out of his pocket and holding it up. Izzy looked at him, his face carefully blank as he yanked it from his hand. Frenchie tried not to jump, as if he was in front of a skittish animal and not a grown man. Izzy stared at him, then looked at the handkerchief, and then looked back up at him.
“For your nose.” Frenchie said quietly. Izzy scoffed.
“No shit. Fuck off.” He said, but he put it to his face and held it there, wincing. Frenchie patted his knees a few times and then stood up.
“You can keep it Iz.” Frenchie said, and as he walked away he patted the man on the shoulder. Izzy actually growled, low in his throat, and Frenchie decided maybe it was time to catch up with Wee John, booking it below deck.