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Stede half carried Ed to the captains quarters, completely unprepared for what would be waiting for him there.
The place was empty. His books, his knickknacks, his fancy decanters. Everything but the desk in the middle of the room and the bed in the window was bare.
“Oh Ed.”
“I’m sorry.”
The little latch to the auxiliary wardrobe had been broken off, and the door hung askew, and even from here Stede could see that there were things in it still. So Ed hadn’t thrown everything away. Just most of it.
“Where do you want to go Darling?” Stede whispered to Ed. Eds choked little sob could barely be heard over the creaking of the ship.
“The wardrobe.” He whispered back. Stede nodded and they slowly made their way over, Ed tripping over his feet a little bit.
He smelled like Rum, the cheap stuff that they got at various ports. STede made a mental note to get some of the brandy they both liked as soon as they could manage it.
The inside of the wardrobe was mostly untouched, aside from a pile of what looked like dressing gowns on the floor. Ed pulled away from Stede and walked over to them, collapsing into the pile like a cat onto a bed, curling up in a ball and burning his face into the fuchsia one Stede loved so much. It was covered in grease soot Stede knew would never come off. He didn’t care, had let go of all that fanciness when he left Mary and Barbados a dead man. Right now his heart hurt at how obvious it was that this was a usual occurrence for him, that Ed had pulled down his nightgowns and made them a bed.
“May I?” Stede whispered, kneeling down to look Ed in the eyes. Ed shrugged and seemed to shrink in on himself further. Stede noticed with a frown that he wasn’t wearing his knee brace. The way he was holding himself had to be painful.
Very carefully, so that Ed could see what he was doing, Stede reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Ed's calf. Ed jumped and scrambled back a little, but Stede just stretched his leg out beside the two of them, rubbing the offending joint. Ed made a soft noise of surprise.
“Is this okay? Am I hurting you?”
“Where were you?” Came Ed’s choked reply. Stede nodded, sitting down in a more comfortable position on the floor, still rubbing Ed’s knee.
Stede told him everything, from the moment his mind started to doubt he deserved to run away with him, to Chauncey kidnapping him at gunpoint, to him waking up the next day in his old home, feet bloody and clothing torn from walking through the forest. He didn’t remember the walk. He remembered the gunshot, and then he was staring at his wife.
“I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t having doubts before.” Stede said quietly. Ed pulled his leg out of his reach and wrapped his arms around himself, looking for all the world like a child.
“It’s not you, or us, that I was doubting. I thought. Well. I guess I felt bad for you giving up your life for me.”
“I made that choice. You should have come and gotten me.”
Ed’s voice was thick with tears not shed.
“I didn’t think Ed. I just ran. I’m so sorry. I regretted it every day we were apart. I’ll regret it everyday until I die, I'm sure.”
“I’m sorry I threw away all your stuff.” Ed whispered. Stede shrugged.
“I’m sure you missed a good bit of it. Too bad. We could have sold it.”
“What?”
“Well I don’t have any money anymore. Gave it all up to come back to you.”
Ed’s eyes filled with tears then.
“What if it's too late?”
“What do you mean?”
“I killed Lucius.”
Stede laughed. Ed looked up at him with panic in his eyes, and touch of anger. How dare he laugh at him?
“Lucius is alive and well. I saw him on the deck earlier.”
“What?”
“He must have gotten back on the ship somehow. So, it's okay. Just don’t go throwing any other crew members off the ship, okay?”
Ed smiled then, a small and fragile thing that cracked immediately. “You really aren’t mad about what I did to your ship?”
“No. I am mad you marooned my men for trying to help you. What were you thinking? They all care for you you know.”
Stede knew he sounded like a parent scolding a child, but he couldn’t stop it. Seeing his men sunburnt and starving on that spit of land had fueled his rage. The only reason he wasn’t tearing into Ed right now is because he was sure that first mate
Izzy had something to do with it. From what Oluwande had told him, it was Izzy who had dropped them off, Izzy who gave the commands. Ed had been there, in the fuschia robe, and then he hadn’t been. He donned the leather and then they were dropped off.
“That’s the problem. I didn’t want to be cared for. To be reminded. I needed to be Blackbeard again. Not Edward. Certainly not Ed. You took Ed with you.”
Stede paused in his tending to Ed’s knee while he breathed through the pain the statement had caused him. When he thought his voice may be steady again, he answered.
“Was that your opinion Ed? Or was it Izzy’s?”
Ed shot up and was suddenly much closer, a fire in his eyes. “Izzy was trying to help.”
“Lot of good that did.”
“I should have let him kill you.”
Stede took a deep breath, and Ed backed away, looking like he had been punched.
“You don’t mean that.” Stede whispered. Ed was shaking his head.
“I don’t. I’m sorry. Christ, I’m sorry.”
Stede nodded to himself and then told himself to let it go. Ed had told him, months ago, that he was supposed to kill him. He knew this had been a thing in the past.
“May I hold you, Ed?”
Ed curled in on himself and began sobbing, but was nodding yes, head against his knees. Stede closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the man's shaking frame, shushing him and rocking them back and forth.
“I know it’ll take time. But I’m not going anywhere. I have nowhere else to go. I’m yours now, Ed. I belong on the sea with you, and the crew. So I’ll do the work, to fix what I’ve done. Will you?”
“Yea.” Ed whispered, small and broken. Stede pressed a kiss to the top of his head and breathed him in, the smell of sweat and smoke and just a hint of lavender. Ed was still here. Everything else was details.