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They’re in a middle of a raid when it happens.
A French vessel decides to try her luck and attack The Revenge at dawn in the hopes of surprising everyone aboard — thankfully to no avail.
Half-asleep but nonetheless giddy with excitement, the crew hurry up on deck to take care of the business, laughing through the process like it’s just another Thursday for them.
Things go rather smoothly until one of the surviving officers has the sudden brilliant idea of using a stun move on an oblivious Stede.
Ed sees Stede collapse to the ground unconscious and his vision turns red.
He comes back to himself a heartbeat later, one hand clutched so tight around the handle of his sword his knuckles have turned pale. The blade is pocking through the man’s chest, sharp and silver.
Silence falls aboard, only disturbed by the sickening symphony of the blood dripping onto the floor, Ed’s ragged breathing and the terrified whimpers of the few remaining hostages nearby.
Everyone stares in stunned awe.
Ed withdraws his sword, ignoring the body dropping dead at his feet.
He turns to the crew and orders coldly, “Overboard, all of them.”, before rushing over to Stede, his heart as heavy as a rock.
The pool of blood around Stede’s head is growing larger by the minute.
Please, Ed thinks with all his strength.
He tosses his sword aside and drops to his knees beside him. The world dims in and out of focus as he rolls Stede on his back, cradling his pale face between his hands. “Stede?” he calls in a whisper. “You hear me, love?”
When Stede remains still, Ed gives him a series of little taps on the cheek. “Stede? C’mon, wake up...”
Stede doesn’t even twitch.
Footsteps approach in a hurry.
“Shit,” Ed hears Lucius gasp somewhere above him. “Is he still breathing?”
Oluwande kneels next to Ed and slides a finger under Stede’s nose.
After a tense beat, he nods. “It’s faint, but it’s here.”
“Why won’t he fucking wake up then?” Ed asks in a shaky breath.
Stede looks asleep, features frozen into a blank expression. The image unnerves Ed deeply, makes his insides twist and his eyes burn. Stede, always so chatty and full of life, should have never been rendered still and silent in his arms. It’s just plain wrong.
The gash at the back of his skull seems pretty shallow but Ed knows from experience that loss of consciousness means the situation can turn into a life-threatening emergency at any time. They need to act, now.
“We have to stop the bleeding first.” Roach informs Ed, as if he read his thoughts.
Ed keeps his gaze on Stede as the cook tears off a large piece of his own shirt. “This okay with you, Cap’n?” he asks afterwards.
Ed snaps out of his trance to find Roach watching him expectantly, his hands hovering over Stede. He swallows dryly, “Go ahead.”
Roach folds the cloth into a ball before pressing it against Stede’s wound. He keeps it this way for a long time, and each minute passing by feels like a torture to Ed who just sits there, helpless and numb.
When he seems satisfied enough, Roach retrieves the cloth, stands and moves to hook his arms under Stede’s armpits. Ed doesn’t let him.
He tugs Stede closer and bares his teeth, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Getting him to bed,” Roach says with a shrug, totally unfazed. “Man needs a few stitches and a long, nice rest!”
Oluwande scrambles to his feet to help him.
On the way he shoots a look at Ed. “Cap?” he urges.
Ed realizes with a pang he’s still hunched over Stede, clutching his head on his lap with blood-covered hands. His whole body is trembling like a leaf.
He blinks and forces himself to let go. The sudden loss of contact opens a giant, painful gap inside his stomach and his fingers tingle with the need to reach out again. He clenches his fists at his sides.
Slowly, Roach and Oluwande lift Stede’s unmoving form off the ground then begin hauling him towards the quarters. Ed observes them leave, frozen.
Of course it’s not the first time Stede gets hurt on the job. Hell they’re pirates, and both of them had had their fair share of stabbings, gunshot wounds and other failed assassination attempts already.
At this point, it’s even starting to become a monthly occurrence aboard, if Ed’s being honest.
But today is different.
Never once in their time spent together Stede has ever laid like this, unresponsive to Ed’s touch, or his voice, with his skin cold and bloodless and his eyes desperately closed shut.
Someone steps in front of Ed’s blurry vision, one hand outstretched in his direction. “Hey,” Lucius’s voice is gentle, but insistent. “Come on, up.”
“Stede, he’s not—” Ed stammers. His cheeks feel wet, and his tongue heavy.
“He’ll be fine,” Lucius grabs him by the hand and hoists him back up on his feet. “It’s Stede we’re talking about. The man’s got like, nine lives.”
Ed lets himself be led away, legs unsteady.
As Lucius opens the door, he risks a glance over his shoulder, towards the rest of the crew, busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack. No hostages this time. The deck is a bloody mess, shimmering under the sunlight.
“What about—” he starts, pointing in their general direction.
Lucius forces him around with a hand on the small of his back. “Everything is under control, don’t worry. Now, let’s go check on the captain, shall we?”
Back in the cabin, they find Oluwande and Roach huddled around the bed, where Stede lays, still unconscious, a clean gauze wrapped around his head. Under the dim light of the room he looks slightly less pale.
Slightly less dead.
“There you go, Cap’n,” Roach smiles up at Ed. His own hands are stained with blood, and he’s holding a needle and a thread. “All stitched up!”
Ed crosses the room in two large strides and drops down to his knees at Stede’s side. He curls a hand around his wrist to feel the frail, but steady pulse here. Alive.
“Has he woken up at all?” he asks Roach and Oluwande in a tight voice.
He doesn’t miss the quick glance they exchange, and terror swells within him, the inconceivable thought of what if he never does again? echoing inside his head, despite his best efforts to tune it down.
“He’s just a bit out of it,” Oluwande, always the optimistic, tries to reassure him. “That son of a bitch used a cannonball, y’know, granted a tiny one, but still heavy enough to kayo someone for a good while.”
“Nice job by the way, Cap’n,” Roach makes a slashing gesture with his hands, a large grin on his lips. “Gave that guy what he deserved!”
Ed swallows, remembering the crunching sound the sword had made when it pierced through the officer’s flesh. Had been a while since he killed someone. Not that he regrets it. Looking up at Stede’s limp form, Ed wishes for nothing more than to resuscitate the man just to do it all over again.
Behind him, Lucius clasps his hands together, “Now what do you say we let the captains get some well-deserved sleep and come back later, yeah?”
“Sure thing,” Oluwande says. His worried eyes flick to Ed, and he seems to hesitate for a moment, before sighing and. “Take care, Cap.”
“Thank you.” Ed manages brokenly, watching them head for the exit. He can’t express how grateful he is for all of them. Not at the moment, when his throat is so constricted it’s a goddamn miracle air can pass through it at all.
“Call if you need anything!” Roach raises his arm in a salute. “I’ll make soup!”
When the door closes behind them, Ed lets out a shuddering breath and rests his forehead on the mattress, his hand still curled around Stede’s arm.
He sits there, deep in thoughts, as Stede remains dead to the world, the slow, regular rise and fall of his chest the only proof that he is still alive.
Minutes, hours maybe, tick by before Ed leans back with a sniff and finally decides to uncurl himself from his position on the floor, stiff joints hissing in protest.
As much as it bothers him to leave Stede alone, even for just a bit, he can’t quite stand the stench of blood on himself anymore. It’s everywhere, imprinted on his clothes, his skin, in his nostrils… He needs to change, get rid of that harsh and bitter smell, that ugly reminder of what just happened.
What he failed to prevent.
After using the washbasin in their ensuite bathroom (where he spends more than ten minutes scrubbing his skin raw with the sponge, teeth gritted so hard together he almost gives himself a migraine), Ed slips into some cleaner and more comfortable clothes then hurries back to Stede’s side.
This time when he reaches out to take his hand, Stede’s fingers give a twitch.
Ed feels his breath catch in his throat. “Oh, fuck…” he chokes out, frozen on his seat as he waits for another sign of life. “Stede? Can you hear me?”
Slowly, so slowly then, Stede’s eyes flutter open. His face immediately twists into a wince and a low, pained moan escapes his lips.
Ed decides it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.
Eyes stinging, he leans forward to push some curls of hair off his clammy forehead. “Fuck, Stede…” he laughs wetly, finally letting the dam break open. “Don’t do that ever again, mate. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Ugh…” comes Stede’s strangled answer as he stirs himself out of his slumber, little by little, his dazed, unfocused eyes wandering on the ceiling.
Ed rubs his forearm gently. “Easy, love. Take your time.”
Stede’s hand reaches up to graze at his bandage.
“Ow…” he groans, and Ed chuckles again.
“Yeah, man, you took one hell of a bloody hit. But you’re fine now, don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Should see the other guy, though.”
Stede’s wince turns into a confused scowl. He mumbles something under his breath again, too low for Ed to understand.
Ed leans closer, ears alert. “What’s that, love?”
“M-Mary?” Stede repeats in a tiny voice.
Oh.
Ed represses a vague feeling of deja-vu and ignores the sting in his chest.
“No, it’s just me,” he says. “You’re with me.”
At last, Stede’s eyes find Ed. They narrow slightly upon discovering him, and Ed feels his smile falter. Something, a familiar glow, is missing.
“Am I— am I at the hospital?” Stede demands weakly.
Ed pauses, taken aback. Stede gives him a quick once-over, then frowns.
“You don’t look like a nurse.”
“I’m not—” Ed starts, before thinking better of it. He swallows and gives Stede’s arm another little rub. “It’s okay. You’re a bit confused.”
This is probably normal, he tells himself. Any blunt force trauma to the head ought to make the brain a tad fuzzy at first. And as long as Stede sits awake and responsive, and more importantly alive, the rest doesn’t really matter.
For now, at least.
Though Stede’s next words still manage to throw Ed off.
“Where’s my wife?” he asks, gaze raking curiously over the room.
The curtains have been half-drawn. A thread of sunlight peers through the crack of the window, drawing a dusty line at the feet of their bed. The only other source of light is the little gas lantern on their bedside table.
The rest of the room is plunged into semi-darkness, the hard shape of the furniture vaguely discernible in the background.
“I, uh…” Ed says, unsure. What the hell is he supposed to answer to that?
Stede grimaces again. “I don’t like this hospital,” he confesses in a hushed tone. “It’s too… juddery.”
Oh, fuck it.
“That’s because you’re on a ship, mate.” Ed says before he can stop himself.
Maybe a little push is what Stede needs to pull out of whatever hazy trance his brain is currently drowning into.
Stede’s eyes widen a bit. “Pardon?”
“This is no hospital. You’re aboard The Revenge.”
“The… Revenge?” Stede repeats the words slowly, and shit if he doesn’t look even more sick all of the sudden. “How do you…”
He breaks off and tries to prop himself up on his elbows, but Ed stops him with a palm on his chest. “No, no, what are you doing? Don’t get up.”
“But, I—” Stede glances around, breath hitching with panic. “I don’t understand. A ship? How the hell did I end up on a bloody ship?”
His face falls and he squeals, “Oh, God… Was I kidnapped?”
“I’ll explain later, love, I promise,” Ed eases, pushing him back gently against the pillows. “But for now you’re still hurt, all you need is some more rest.”
Stede’s brow furrows in disapproval, but he lets himself being lowered down on his back without further arguing. Then he licks his lips, waits a beat, and asks Ed, “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Ed blinks, hands dropping down on his lap. “What?”
“You said ‘love’. Multiple times.”
Oh.
“Well, because you’re—” No, not now. Ed closes his eyes and counts to five. Can’t drop the massive, life-altering truth bomb just yet. He opens them again, and says, “It’s just, um… just a nickname, y’know?”
“Oh,” Stede says, and Ed dimly wonders if the blush on his cheeks has been here from the start, or if it’s only wishful thinking from his part. “Well, be that as it may… I think you’re a very nice nurse.”
Ed snorts. As much as they frighten him, Stede’s confused statements are also quite endearing in a way, he has to admit. “Suppose so.”
Stede’s lips purses into a smile then, radiant like a ray of sunlight. He holds out a hand to Ed, “I’m Stede, by the way.”
The words hit Ed like a punch, pain included. He bites back the sob tugging at his chest, and returns Stede’s handshake bemusedly.
“Ed,” he croaks out.
Stede’s smile softens. “That’s a lovely name.”
God fucking damn it…
Ed snaps his eyes shut. He can’t do this. Pretend. Play this stupid game. The mere idea of Stede having forgotten all about him, about what they have, what they are, what they’ve been through together, is unfathomable.
He retrieves his hand to brush it over his face. “Ugh…”
“Are you alright, Ed?”
No, I’m fucking not. You don’t remember who I am.
“Yeah…” Ed tries to smother another sob. Stede, his beautiful, caring Stede, who is the one currently lying in bed with a split skull and a brain in mush, and still finds the time to worry about him, in spite of everything. “M’ okay.”
“You don’t seem very okay.”
Heart thudding in his chest, Ed shakes his head and slumps down on the edge of the bed, his face still hidden into his hands. Breathing is hard all of the sudden. Ed knows that feeling of insidious, ice cold panic crawling under his skin all too well, and he doubles over, tries to chase the feeling away.
Not now, please not now…
Through the pounding in his ears he hears some shuffling, and then feels the mattress dip a bit as Stede, despite Ed’s recent scolding, sits up and scoots over towards him, until their thighs are pressed against each other.
Ed opens his mouth to argue, but can’t muster enough energy to do so.
“Deep breaths,” Stede instructs softly. “In and out. Just like this, yes...”
His hand reaches up to stroke down Ed’s spine as he struggles to catch his breath, gentle fingertips as light as a feather against the thin layer of his shirt. Ed shivers and leans into the touch instinctively, and the familiarity of the gesture draws another choked sob out of him. He wants to turn around and embrace Stede, bury his face in the crook of his neck like he has done a million times before, but he can’t risk scaring him off.
“There you go,” Stede soothes when Ed gets his breathing under control again. “You know, I get those too, sometimes. They always take you by surprise, don’t they? Mary calls them my little ‘fits of terror’.”
Ed leans back to look at him through his teary eyes, a question burning on his tongue. “Stede…” he rasps in a weak, tired voice, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Oh…” Stede presses his lips together, and thinks for a bit. “I believe I was at home, having a cup of tea. The children were busy at school, Mary in her workshop. It was a rather warm Tuesday…” He touches his bandage again, like he just remembered its existence. “I guess I must have tripped and hit my head at some point. After that though, complete and total black-out.”
“Fuck.” Ed says, tears coming back with a vengeance.
Stede lets out a sigh. “You tell me.”
“That’s not… ideal.” That’s the fucking worst case scenario coming true.
Stede glances around, until his eyes catch glimpse of something over Ed’s shoulder. His face breaks into a hesitant smile. He points towards the curtains. “Do you mind if I have a look?”
Ed nods, sniffling quietly. “Sure, mate. Go ahead.”
More visual clues can’t do no harm.
With surprising ease, Stede gets on his knees and shuffles over to the window. He pulls the curtain open and soon, the cabin is bathed in broad daylight.
Ed hears his shocked gasp and cranes his neck to watch him.
Eyes wet and full of stars, Stede is admiring the open sea through the porthole and beaming like an amazed child.
“My God,” he drawls, breathless. “What a stunner.”
Ed could cry at the absolute wonder on his face. All of this is yours, love, he wants to say. He doesn’t. An idea pops in his mind.
He wipes his cheeks, stands and holds out a hand for Stede.
Stede tears his gaze off the window to look at him.
“C’mon,” Ed says with a little tilt of his head. “If you think you can stand okay, I’d like to show you something even cooler.”
Stede’s smile turns into a grin. “Cooler than this? Difficult to believe.”
“Trust me, mate. You’re gonna lose your freakin’ mind.”
“Well in that case,” Stede accepts Ed’s hand, “let me be the judge of that.”
Ed guides him cautiously towards the library, making sure to stay close in case Stede loses his balance, or god forbids, suddenly passes out.
Stede follows without complaining, even though his steps are a bit hesitant and wobbly. His gaze runs over the spacious room as they walk, taking in the furniture, the decoration, the overall homely atmosphere.
He opens his mouth once or twice, as if to comment on something, but eventually decides against it. Ed knows a tornado of different questions must be swirling inside his head at the moment.
It’s honestly a surprise Stede hasn’t freaked out on him yet.
Was he to ever woke up one day on a ship full of strangers, with a severe head injury and no recollection of the past few years, Ed would have already snapped, for sure. He would probably be going around the ship with a knife and threatening everyone for some explanations.
Stede’s strained expression morphs into blatant curiosity when Ed stops them in front of the one of the bookshelves, a playful smirk on his lips.
“Say, love,” he asks, “can you keep a secret?”
Stede’s smile, if possible, becomes even bigger. “I’m like the grave!”
Ed winks and reaches out to pull the little lever hidden between two rows of books.
The door of the auxiliary closet cracks open, and Stede stares in bewilderment.
Ed laughs. “Told you.”
“Can I see what’s inside?” Stede is already padding closer, curious like a cat.
“Be my guest.” Ed pushes the door wider and steps aside to let him in.
“Oh, my…”
Stede’s eyes widen like saucers as they travel over the rows of clothes, all neatly arranged by either season or color, the different shelves and drawers and the gorgeous English carpet at their feet, from their most recent loot.
He reaches out to appraise a fancy coral waistcoat hanging on a rack, caressing the linen fabric like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on.
One of his favorites, Ed notices with a twinge in his chest.
“I feel like I just walked inside a dream,” Stede admits, turning to Ed with a bright, impressed smile. “Are these all yours?”
Ed huffs and shakes his head, throat closing up again, “Most of them belong to my husband, actually.”
Stede blinks in surprise, “You’re married?”
Ed tells himself he must be imagining the faint heartbreak in his tone.
He smiles and raises his left hand to show Stede his wedding ring, which is quite ironic knowing that Stede himself had it made back in Barbados, and wears the exact same one around his finger. Although he doesn’t seem to have noticed yet. The ring is a simple hand-engraved golden band with a flowery pattern entwined around their initials.
The most cherished item Ed owns, no doubts.
“How lovely!” Stede exclaims, genuine. “How long has it been?”
“A year.” Ed manages around the lump in his throat.
And you’ve forgotten all about it…
Stede beams. “And is your husband aboard the ship too?”
For a second or so, Ed considers blurting out the truth. It’s you, Stede. You’re my fucking husband. His voice shakes when he replies, “It’s complicated.”
“Oh,” Stede picks up a fuchsia scarf on the shelf, “well, I’d very much love to meet him some day, if you don’t mind, if only to compliment his fantastic taste in clothing. This is absolutely wonderful. Is it cashmere?”
Ed wants to laugh or cry or crawl inside a hole and hide there forever, he’s not sure. He settles on a half-shrug, “You’ll have to ask him.”
They return to the cabin, after that. On his way back to bed, Stede lingers a bit in front of the desk to fiddle with the little whale-shaped paperweight.
“I own one just like that.” he informs Ed with an oblivious smile.
As he sets the paperweight back onto the table, something else suddenly catches his attention. His eyes narrow as they land on his logbook, the one they’d kept since the beginning of their journey. He flips the first page open and leans in to read, but Ed is quicker, rushing over to slam the cover shut.
“Stupid fuckin’ journal.” he says, nonsensically.
Stede takes a step back. “Oh, forgive me. I’m way too nosey.”
“It’s alright, mate. It’s just, uh… a tad personal, y’know.”
“I understand,” Stede winks at him. “Some things are better kept to oneself!”
They both startle when the door to their cabin swings open. Ed sighs. There’s only one person aboard who somehow always forget to knock.
“Oh,” Lucius stops on the threshold, a hand on his chest. “Captain, you’re up!”
“Hello there,” Stede greets politely, raising a hand to him. “I’m Stede.”
Lucius frowns. He shakes Stede’s hand and casts a quick, questioning glance towards Ed. Ed shrugs.
“Um, okay,” Lucius says slowly. “Nice to meet you… Stede.”
“You must be the husband!” Stede looks utterly delighted.
“I, uh…” Lucius’ wide eyes dart towards Ed for help. He mouths what the fuck? and since Ed really has no clue how to answer, he just shrugs again.
Lucius clears his throat and smiles at Stede. “Do you mind if I have a quick word with dear Edward here? It will only take a couple minutes.”
He doesn’t wait for Stede’s reply, grabbing Ed by the wrist and dragging him out of the room. Once in the corridor, he shuts the door behind them and pokes Ed square in the chest. “Explain, now!” he orders in a whisper-scream.
Ed glares at him. Back in the day, a behavior like that would have been met with a merciless knife against the boy’s throat and maybe a threat or two, but he’s older now. Wiser. And Lucius is… well, Lucius.
Given their tense history, Ed believes he’s earned a pass.
“What does it look like?” he snaps, a fresh wave of panic washing over him, “Stede’s got brain trauma or something, and now he doesn’t remember shit! He doesn’t remember me!”
“Oh, fuck,” Lucius gasps in shock. “Are you— are you sure? Nothing at all?”
“He thought I was his wife, and then his nurse. His bloody nurse, man! He thought that he’d been kidnapped, and sent on a ship. Now he can’t wait to meet my husband so he can tell him how much he loves his fashion sense!”
“Is everything okay, guys?”
Oluwande walks over to them, with Jim and Black Pete on his trail, both grim faced and still covered in dirt and blood from the earlier battle.
Lucius sighs, “Everything’s not okay. Captain has lost his marbles.”
Jim pauses to give Ed the side-eye, “Again?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mea—” Ed sputters.
“No, not him,” Lucius interjects, rolling his eyes. He points a thumb over his shoulder, towards the door. “Stede. He has amnesia!”
“Amne-what?” Pete repeats with a frown.
“Oh, I’ve heard about that,” Jim says gravely. “Brain scrambles. Nana used to tend for this guy who got kicked in the face by a donkey once, back in my hometown. He’d woken up convinced he was still a toddler. Can you imagine?”
“Jim,” Lucius chides between gritted teeth, “You’re not exactly helping.”
Jim shrugs, “I’m just saying. This is bad.”
“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Cap,” Oluwande flashes a confident smile at Ed. “And I bet the man in the story got his memory back the next day. Right, Jim?”
Silence. Jim stares down at their shoes.
Ed feels his heart sink low. “Oh, fucking hell…” he whines, digging the heel of his palms into his eyelids to keep the tears at bay. “What am I gonna do?”
“Maybe try knocking him down again?” Pete offers hesitantly, and next to him, Jim hums in agreement. “Could reverse stuff. I’ll do it gladly, if you can’t…”
Ed’s head snaps up to him and he takes a sudden step forward, face twisting into a murderous scowl, “What did you just say?”
Black Pete holds up his hands in surrender, “Just trying to help!”
“What are you all even doing here?” Ed scans over the three of them with his most menacing glare. “Don’t you have work to do?”
“Getting into it as we speak, Cap.” Oluwande replies, setting a placating hand on Jim’s shoulder.
Ed hears him mumble something at them, something that sounds suspiciously like let’s go, he’s just in one of his moods again but decides, out of the kindness of his heart, to let it slide this time.
He also pointedly ignores the flow of Spanish curse words that Jim mutters like a prayer under their breath as Oluwande guides them away.
Black Pete pauses on his way back, “Think about it, boss,” he says, knocking a fist on his own skull. “We never know.”
“Don’t push your luck.” Ed growls, and Pete gives up to follow after the others.
Once they’re gone, he turns to Lucius. The boy is staring at him, unimpressed.
“Feeling better?” Lucius asks flatly, hands on his hips. “Or do you need to throw somebody overboard before we continue this conversation?”
Regret sweeps over Ed. “Ugh, I’m sorry, mate, I’m just—” Scared. Angry at myself. He rubs a palm over his burning face. “This whole stupid fuckin’ thing is making me insane...”
“Right, well,” Lucius winces in honest sympathy. “Luckily for you and your sweet, confused little husband, you’ve got me aboard. And since I’m excellent with words, I’m gonna sit us down and have a little chat with him, okay?”
He moves to the door. Ed’s stomach churns.
“Hang on!” he says, panicked. “What are you gonna tell him?”
Lucius stares at him like the answer is obvious, “We owe him the truth, Ed.”
“No, no,” He shakes his head firmly, “He can’t know about me yet.”
“Why the hell not?” Lucius blinks in confusion.
“Because, I—” Ed trails off, cowering all of the sudden. He can’t say it aloud.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Lucius groans, understanding plain on his face, like he can read Ed’s mind clearly. Always so clever, that one. “Two years later, and yet you still can’t believe it, huh? Do you really think that that man in there, who looks at you like you hung the bloody fucking moon and all the stars in the sky, is gonna freak out and run away once he learns that you—” He makes an up and down in Ed’s direction, “are his husband?”
“Yeah, well,” Ed crosses his arms on his chest and tries not to pout, “Forgive me for being concerned, mate, but the man in there thinks he’s still married to someone else! This ought to come out as a tad bit of a shock, no?”
Lucius huffs a laugh, “Oh yes, Stede will be shocked for sure,” He pats Ed on the arm and grins smugly, “But not for the reasons you imagine, trust me.”
At that, Lucius doesn’t waste any more time and opens the door.
After taking a deep breath, Ed follows him hesitantly inside the room.
Stede is sitting on the bed, busy fiddling with a long object. His head jerks up upon their arrival, and his smile brightens inconsiderably, “I believe I found me a new passion for all those various knickknacks during your absence!” he tells them, holding out the spyglass in front of him, “Have you seen how marvelous and authentic that thing is?”
“Really nice, Cap— Stede,” Lucius confirms with a polite smile.
Ed dangles in the doorway, his heart in his throat, feeling entirely clueless.
“Oh, hello, Ed!” Stede giggles, actually giggles, as he watches him through the scope. “Look, I’m a real pirate! Captain Kidd has got nothing on me!”
Ed offers a little wave, then exchanges a glance with Lucius. What now?
After a beat, Lucius sighs and strolls over to him. “May I have a word with you?”
“Oh, of course, yes,” Stede sets the spyglass aside to give Lucius all his attention. He folds his hands on his lap and smiles up at him, “Hello, again. I fear I didn’t quite catch your name last time?”
Lucius kneels down in front of him, “It’s Lucius,” he says. “I work as a scribe here. And I’m very good friends with the two co-captains.”
Stede’s eyebrow furrow, intrigued, “… Co-captains?”
“Yep, that’s right. Edward, who you already know, is one of them.”
Ed feels his pulse increase at the mention of his name.
“You must be asking yourself how and why you ended up here on this ship, huh?” Lucius asks Stede gently. “How you injured your head?”
“I do, but…” Stede’s shoulders sag down. There’s a sudden sadness in his eyes that sends a spike of pain right through Ed’s guts. “Would it be wrong to say I’m not particularly… eager to leave?”
“Oh,” Lucius grins and reaches out to give his knee a little squeeze. “Well, good news then, honey. Because you’re not gonna leave this ship any time soon.”
Stede blinks and repeats tentatively, “I’m… not?”
“Listen, Stede,” Lucius’s expression turns serious again, “I have something to tell you. I mean—” He gestures loosely in Ed’s direction. “We both have something to tell you. It may sound a tad crazy and confusing at first, so brace yourself.”
There’s a beat of silence as Stede straightens on his seat, a small, curious smile on his lips. If anything, he seems far more excited than apprehensive.
Lucius turns to address Ed, “Could you pass me our logbook, please?”
It takes a few seconds for Ed to stir out of his stupor, snap back to reality. His body moves on its own accord, limbs detached, towards the desk. He picks up the journal then crosses the room to half-heartedly hand it over to Lucius.
Lucius catches his worried gaze on the way, “It’s gonna be okay.” he promises.
Ed wishes for nothing more than to believe him, but he can’t stop the hissing voice in his head, the constant echo of he’s going to hate you and leave you again, for good this time, you don’t deserve him, never deserved him…
He reaches up, by instinct, to touch his wedding ring. Its presence is comforting, and the carved patterns feel familiar against the pad of his thumb.
Lucius inhales deeply, pressing the logbook against his chest.
“Stede,” he starts, and Stede hums, patient like a lamb. Lucius pauses, closes his eyes, then declares in one breath, “You’re a pirate.”
Silence falls over the cabin. Ed idly wonders if they can hear his jackhammering heartbeat through the sudden quiet.
Stede stares, mouth agape.
Then, “A pirate?” he repeats.
“Yes,” Lucius sets the book down on Stede’s lap. He taps a finger on the leather cover where his name is engraved in an elegant, cursive font here. “The Gentleman Pirate, see? That’s you.”
Stede looks between Lucius and Ed, then back at the journal. “B-but how?” he stutters, blinking like a madman. “This doesn’t… How did I even…?”
“It’s a long and complicated story,” Lucius tells him, “But all you need to know, for now, is that you’re a well renowned and respected pirate captain, and that this ship, as well as her crew, is yours. Have been for years.”
“The Revenge…” Stede chokes out, and Ed can almost see the gears turn inside his head as he starts putting two and two together.
Something breaks in his chest, and he strides over, kneeling beside Stede and taking his hand in his own.
Stede doesn’t flinch, or pull away, just keeps on smiling in shocked awe, “That’s the name I always chose for my ship, in my little fantasies where I’m a pirate captain on a journey across the ocean,” he confesses in a whisper, cheeks flushed. “God, I can’t believe what I’m hearing… Is this real?”
“It’s not a dream, love.” Ed says softly.
“And this…” Stede brushes his hand over the cover of his logbook, “is my journal, then?”
“It sure is,” Lucius nods, a proud grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve kept it filled since our very first day aboard the ship! You can take a look inside, if you want. Might help with that little amnesia problem of yours, who knows.”
Ed opens his mouth to argue, but Stede is faster, “Are you sure?” he asks Lucius, and there’s so much envy in his tone, so much desire to learn, about this whole thing, this life of his, that Ed forces himself to swallow down his protests.
“Go ahead,“ Lucius assures. “It’s all yours, Captain.”
Stede begins flipping through the pages hesitantly, fascination across his face as he picks up a few words here and there and repeats them under his breath.
Then his gaze lands on something and he leans closer, panic flaring in his eyes as he keeps on reading. Ed sees his face drain of blood and freezes on his own seat, his heart dropping to his stomach.
“Blackbeard,” Stede whispers, and he glances up to stare between the two of them again, more confused than ever. “It says here that… I’m married to him? To the— the actual pirate Blackbeard?”
“This is your matelotage certificate, yeah.” Lucius confirms with a chuckle, before turning to wink at Ed.
Ed can’t breathe anymore, can’t even think, so he just sits there, his hand still gripping Stede’s. Neither of them have made any move to pull away yet, and Stede seems way too distracted to even have noticed anyway.
Ed watches as he blinks, tries to process the news, “So, uh— if I understand well,” Stede says slowly, “A few years ago, I left my wife and children on a whim to become the pirate captain of this beautiful vessel, the vessel of my dreams, and I— somehow, along the way, ended up wedded to history’s greatest, most fearsome pirate?” He pauses, then adds incredulously, “Me?”
“Well, uh…” Ed hesitates, bowing his head. “He’s— Y’know, Blackbeard isn’t all that much…” he stammers, and Stede frowns at him.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Edward,” Lucius groans in frustration. “If you’re not gonna tell him, then I will!”
“Tell me what?” Stede says.
“Lucius.” Ed warns him.
“Alright,” Lucius grabs the logbook and rises to his feet. “Enough of this.”
He flips the pages rapidly until he finds what he’s looking for, then turns the journal over so him and Stede can both see. “Here’s you and your beloved spouse, the famous Blackbeard! Looks familiar, doesn’t he?”
Ed stares at the drawing. It’s a gorgeous and rather realistic charcoal sketch. A upper body portrait of the two of them on their wedding day as they sit, gazing into each other’s eyes. Ed’s long grey hair is pulled back at the top, the bun kept in place by a crown of white baby‘s breath flowers. Stede is wearing a pale cravat and some daisies in his curls as well, and somehow Lucius managed to perfectly replicate his radiant smile on paper.
He hears Stede’s breath hitch in his throat. “Oh, that’s…”
He finally seems to notice their entwined hands, and stares down at them with an unreadable expression on his face.
Ed jerks his hand back like he’s been burned, cheeks heating up in shame.
Stede doesn’t reply, but he’s bright red too, and his eyes are veiled with… something Ed can’t exactly pinpoint. It terrifies him.
There’s a beat of puzzled silence that lasts a bit too long.
Then Lucius whispers, “Uh, I think I’ve just heard Pete calling for me, so...” and with urgent, but quiet steps, takes it as his cue to flee out of the room, leaving them to figure out the rest of this by themselves.
When he’s gone, and it’s just the two of them in that cabin again, and the tension is so thick Ed could cut it with a knife, Stede huffs a weird little sound, half-way between a sob and a bemused laugh.
A tiny smile spreads on his lips, and Ed feels the sudden, intense urge to kiss it away.
He stays very still.
After another pause, Stede speaks again, softly, “Why didn’t you tell me, Ed?”
Ed ducks his head, works his jaw open. Time to be brave.
“I dunno, mate,” he admits with a shrug. “I didn’t want you to— to be disappointed, or get upset. I mean, it’s a bloody lot to take in, isn’t it? I’m not exactly... well…” He gestures to himself, like it’s explanation enough.
“Oh, Ed,” Stede tuts, reaching out for his hand again. Ed lets him link their fingers together, even allows himself to scoot closer until Stede’s knee is pressed against his shoulder. ”Can I tell you something?”
Ed nods.
“You know what was my first thought when I learned that I was married to Blackbeard?” Stede’s smile softens as he gazes down at him. “I was quite stunned, because I didn’t know anything about that man, other than what the books recount. I asked myself, What on earth am I even going to say to him? and then I hoped, with all my heart, that he would somehow turn out to be exactly like you. Because if I had to pick someone to share this insane new life with, it would be you, Ed. Without a single doubt.“
Ed scoffs, eyes prickling, “God, Stede…”
“I’m very relieved, is what I’m trying to say,” Stede gives his hand another squeeze, then puts them down on his lap. “You’ve been so kind to me.”
His faces twists all of the sudden, and he lets out a hiss of pain, doubling over and clutching the back of his head. Ed is on him in an instant, eyes wide with panic, “You okay, mate? Hey, what’s the matter?”
“Ow…” Stede grits out before taking a deep, shuddering breath. “Ouch.”
“You want me to call someone?” Ed is on his feet now, ready to dash and go find Roach. “Hang on, I’ll go fetch someone—”
“No, no, I’m good,” Stede assures in a weak voice, patting him on the thigh, “I’m alright, dear. It’s just a little headache, nothing to worry about.”
Ed ignores the heat that spreads in his stomach at the pet name, “You sure about that? ‘Cause you really don’t look too well right now.”
Stede gestures for him to sit again. Ed obeys reluctantly, settling down beside him on the bed. “About that nap,” Stede recalls, a bit sheepish. “I think I’d like to rest my head in the quiet for a few minutes now, if you don’t see any inconvenient?”
Ed nods. “Yeah, of course. Anything you want.”
“Could you, maybe…?” Stede trails off, but Ed gets the message, and moves to help him lie down on the mattress, carefully placing his head back on the pillow. Stede smiles hazily at Ed as his tired eyes travel up and down his face.
“When I wake up,” he says, “would you please give me a tour?”
Ed chuckles and nods again, “Sure, love. I’ll even introduce the rest of the crew to you, if you want. I know they all must be dying to see you.”
Stede seems delighted by the prospect. Against his better judgement, Ed leans in to press a small kiss to his forehead. Stede lets out a little sigh of content and sinks deeper into his pillow, eyelashes fluttering closed.
“I must be dreaming…” he whispers, a drowsy smile on his lips.
Ed waits until Stede is deep asleep to go grab a chair at the desk, and drag it next to the bed. He flops down on it with the firm attention on keeping watch.
It doesn’t take long for him to doze off as well, lulled by the sound of his husband’s breathing, and the crashing of waves against the hull of the ship.
*
After their nap, Ed honors his promise and takes Stede on a stroll around The Revenge, showing him every single room and every secret passage, until Stede looks like he’s about to burst with joy, fawning over the littlest details his eyes land on. Colors returned on his cheeks, and his steps are more steady than earlier.
Ed tries to swallow down his disappointment when none of what he shows or tells Stede manages to trigger his memory back.
Another time, maybe.
He leads him to the main deck, where the crew awaits patiently, eager to see their captain again, although their faces are painted with worry.
Giddy with excitement, Stede makes sure to introduce himself to every single one of them, even Izzy, who just snarls at him and grumbles, “Trust me, I’m fuckin’ aware...” when Stede tells him his name, but accepts his handshake nonetheless, albeit a bit grudgingly.
“What a charming and friendly bunch,” Stede tells Ed later that evening when they’re both walking back to their quarters. “It’s like I’ve known them forever.”
“You have.” Ed says, opening the cabin’s door and ushering them inside.
“Well, you know what I mean,” Stede sits down on the bed, and looks up at him, “There was something though, tonight,” he admits, “At the back of my mind. Faint, but present. It’s… tugging.”
Ed freezes in his tracks. “You remembered something?”
“It’s more of a sentiment, if I’m being honest,” Stede goes on explaining. “I watched you all talk during supper and I didn’t feel like a stranger, or an outcast. When Frenchie played his lute and started singing, I realized I knew some of the lyrics somehow, even though I’m pretty certain I’ve never heard those songs anywhere before.”
“God,” Ed breathes out, a spark of hope sizzling in his stomach. “That’s… that’s promising, love. That’s a very good start.”
Stede smiles, slumping down on his back with a tired sigh. He pauses, then adds in a confident tone, “We’ll get there soon, Ed. I just know it.”
He pivots in his direction and, after another beat of silence, asks him shyly, “Would you sleep here with me tonight?”
Despite everything, Ed feels himself flush from head to toes. God damn it, he curses himself inwardly. It’s not like they haven’t been together for years, and not to mention fucking married.“Uh, well...” he says, fumbling for words. “Are you— are you sure?”
Stede chuckles, “Well, it’s your bed too, Ed. Only a monster would kick someone out of their own bloody bed!” His smile falters a bit, and he adds more seriously, “Unless you’d rather not, of course. In that case I completely respect your choice. I don’t mind taking the couch.”
“No!” Ed replies, and Stede’s eye widen in surprise, but he doesn’t comment. “I mean, uh— if you’re okay with it then sure, yeah. I’ll sleep here.”
“Good.” Stede scoots backwards until his side is pinned against the wall.
Ed kicks off his shoes and pads over to join him. Their bed has never felt smaller as he awkwardly settles on it, trying his best to keep his body at a reasonable distance of Stede despite the limited space their mattress offers.
He lies still and focuses on the ceiling. Stede shuffles beside him, rolling on one side. Ed feels his eyes on him, and turns his head to meet them.
“Hey.” Stede greets softly, his silhouette obscured by the semi-darkness.
“Hi.” Ed whispers, heart fluttering.
A comfortable silence stretches inside the room as they lay there, just gazing into each other’s eyes, their hands firmly kept to themselves.
Then—
“I’m sorry, Ed,” Stede says. “For not remembering. I’m trying my best, I assure you. I know it must be very hard for you.”
“It’s okay, not your fault.” Ed answers, because it’s the simple truth. Nobody is to blame for any of this, except the man who knocked Stede down in the first place, and who already got punished for it anyway.
“I still can’t quite wrap my mind around any of this,” Stede declares with a sigh. “Yesterday I was just landed gentry with way too much times on my hands, and now I’m here, pirate co-captain of a beautiful ship, and a brilliant crew. And…” He swallows, eyes shiny in the dark, then whispers, “I’ve got you.”
He reaches out blindly, and Ed doesn’t hesitate. He grasps Stede’s hand into his own, lace their fingers together, and turns on his side to watch him.
“How did I get so damn lucky?” Ed can hear the smile in his voice.
“I’m the lucky one, trust me,” he says, and it’s so easy, so natural after that, to prop himself up on one arm, cup a hand around Stede’s cheek and asks him gently, “Can I kiss you?”
In the darkness, Ed could swear he sees Stede blush.
“Oh dear God, yes,” Stede breathes in relief like he’s been waiting for this, and he moves in a heartbeat, leaning forward to bring their mouths together, pulling Ed closer until Ed is half sprawled on top of him.
Ed melts into his touch and kisses him back with the same enthusiasm, turning warm and pliant into his husband’s familiar arms.
Stede chuckles against his lips, “Careful,” he pants between two kisses, withdrawing a bit to gaze into Ed’s eyes, “I could get used to this real fast.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” Ed teases with a grin.
He kisses Stede again, this time below the eye, and then trails down to the corner of his mouth, and lower down until he reaches the side of his throat, where his pulse is racing underneath his skin. Alive.
He forces himself to pull back after that, and rests his head on Stede’s chest. Stede needs sleep more than anything else right now, and despite his insistence that he feels fine, Ed can see that his movements are still sloppy and disoriented, his eyes clouded with pain and exhaustion.
Stede makes a small noise of disappointment, but relents.
He wraps his arms around Ed and holds him close, combing his fingers into his long hair in a slow, lazy gesture.
“If this is a dream,” he whispers, “then I never want to wake up ever again.”
At the sound of his voice, so tender and full of hope, Ed feels his eyes well up and his throat close up. It strikes him, all of the sudden, the events of this morning surging back like a punch in the guts.
Dread rears up within him as he realizes how close he came to losing Stede forever, to never feel the heat of his arms around him again.
“Now, my darling, don’t cry…” Stede shushes, sensing his tears. He squeezes Ed against him, and curls a hand at the back of his neck. “I may not be quite myself just yet, but I am here, deep down. I promise you, I’m still here.”
Ed sniffles and gives jerky nod. “I know that,” he cries, voice muffled by Stede’s shirt. “I’m so fucking thankful.”
“Even if I don’t remember you very well for now,” Stede continues blissfully, “I feel closer to you than I’ve ever been to anyone else before. And as odd as it may sound in my situation, there’s no denying the intense love that grips me every time I look at you. You’re my family, Ed. For me, it’s as clear as day.”
Ed’s chest swells with relief. He clings to him, pressing his damp cheek against his heartbeat. “Thank you,” he murmurs a bit nonsensically, fatigue taking over his bones. “I love you too. So much.”
Stede chuckles wetly, and tightens his grip around him.
They fall asleep like this, cuddled up together, a smile lingering on their lips.
*
It takes time, although not as much as Ed would have feared.
Stede falls back into his role of pirate co-captain with surprising ease considering his foggy memories.
Ed and the rest of the crew are more than happy to help him work through some basic pirating lessons again, and even recall some of their shared past adventures to him in lieu of the usual bedtime story.
Then one day, more than three weeks after the incident, Ed wakes up to find Stede curled up on the window seat, staring out at the sea.
Panic seizes him when he sees the silent tears rolling down Stede’s cheeks. Ed pulls the sheet off his legs and stumbles over to him, his heart in his throat.
“Stede?” he calls, grabbing his hands. “Talk to me, mate, what’s wrong?”
Stede blinks some tears away and glances up at him, and Ed exhales in deep relief, because Stede is not upset, no. He’s beaming, and there’s a little glow in his eyes, something that looks like complete, utter joy.
He pulls Ed towards him, until Ed is sat down on his lap, and reaches up to brush a few strands of hair off his face with a shaky hand.
“What?” Ed asks with a nervous, confused chuckle, leaning into his touch.
Stede laughs, then declares with a grin, “Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill.”
Ed pauses, mouth agape. They haven’t talked about that ever since…
“Hold on,” he says slowly, heartbeat picking up. “D’you mean…”
And Stede nods as more tears spill down his face, his smile so dazzling, so relieved and so damn happy it’s like staring straight into the sun. “It came back, Ed,” he tells him, “Everything came back. I woke up, and it was like a slap in the face. All at once, I remembered.”
“Holy shit, Stede!” Ed holds his face into his hands. He’s crying too now, he notices vaguely. “Holy shit, mate, that’s a goddamn fuckin’ miracle!”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Stede laughs again, and he leans in to kiss Ed on the lips, again and again, until they’re both lightheaded and out of breath.
Eventually Ed draws back, unable to help himself, “Even our wedding?” he says.
Stede answers with an enthusiastic nod, “Roach baked his famous orange cake, the Swede sang an aria for us and, if I recall well, I believe Izzy tried to escape on a dinghy at least once or twice during the ceremony.”
Ed chuckles fondly at the memory. What a day it had been.
Stede brushes a thumb over his cheekbone, wiping a persisting tear away, “I knew this would happen, Ed,” he admits in a softer tone. “I wasn’t sure where, or when exactly, but I knew, deep in my heart.”
“I never doubted you, love,” Ed takes his hand and places it over his heart. “Should we go tell the others now?” he says. “They’ll be fuckin’ thrilled to hear that.”
“In a minute,” Stede promises, and he turns back to the window, to admire the sea a bit longer. “It’s so tranquil at this hour of the day. So peaceful.”
“Like a dream.” Ed confirms, gazing through the porthole.
Stede’s eyes flick to Ed again, and he shakes his head, smiling, “I don’t think so, my darling. No dream of mine could ever compare to this.”
*