Work Text:
"Whassat?"
"Oh, nothing." Blackbeard's fingers continued to fidget around the piece of cloth. It had felt softer the last time he held it, but the callouses on his hands were getting rougher every day. "Just a stupid little thing. Feels nice to hold, and reminds me of my mum." He turned his head to face the drunken man standing beside his cot. "That's all."
Jack scoffed. "Not going soft on me, are ya, Eddie?"
Blackbeard shook his head. "'Course not. 'S not important or anything."
"Good." Jack held out a mostly-empty bottle of rum—one that was likely full a few hours earlier before he got his hands on it.
Blackbeard sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot as he took the bottle, still holding the piece of red silk loosely in his other hand.
When he tilted his head back to gulp down the remainder of the rum, Jack snatched the cloth from his hand and took off across the room with it, laughing maniacally as he slammed the door behind him.
The bottle clattered to the ground as Blackbeard shot to his feet and ran after Jack, trying to shout but failing to make any sound through the mouthful of alcohol. He passed through the door and ran for the stairs Jack was already climbing.
Blackbeard tried to swallow while still running, but he choked and stumbled over his own feet as he coughed up the rest of the rum.
He heard laughter above him and looked up to see Jack descending the stairs again, standing over him as he continued to choke and sputter on the floor. "Really can't hold your liquor, huh, Eddie?"
"Fuck you," Blackbeard said before succumbing to another coughing fit. Jack continued to laugh until Blackbeard's lungs finally stopped trying to escape through his mouth and he stood up on unsteady legs. Chest heaving, he narrowed his eyes and said, "Now give it back, you prick."
"What, this old thing?" Jack held up the piece of silk in one hand and pulled his knife from his belt with the other. "Don't you think it would look better if I—" He snickered. Blackbeard was ready to punch the smirk off of his face. "—If I carved a dick and balls into it?"
"Jack, don't you da—"
Jack lunged for the nearby wall. He held the fabric against it with one hand and gripped the knife tightly with the other, but Blackbeard caught his wrist before he could make another move.
"Don't you fucking dare!" he snarled.
"What?" Jack asked, still grinning, unfazed. "You said it wasn't important."
"Fuck off, Jack, just give it back."
"And what if I don't?"
Blackbeard leapt onto Jack's back, managing to twist the knife out of his hand and press it to his throat. "Give it. The fuck. Back," he growled into Jack's ear. "Now."
Jack didn't let go of the cloth. He carefully turned his head to face Blackbeard and quietly said, "Fine. I will. But wouldn't it be a real shame if Hornigold found out you're keeping a girly little scrap of fabric with you?"
Blackbeard inched the knife slightly upward and said, "Funny, 'cause y'know I'm pretty sure someone without a tongue wouldn't be able to tell him that, would they?"
Setting his jaw a bit tighter, Jack wordlessly let go of the cloth, letting it drop to the floor.
Blackbeard tossed the knife aside and scrambled to grab the silk from the ground. As he tucked it into his coat, he said, "You ever breathe a word about this—"
"I know, I know," Jack said, picking up his knife and sticking it back in his belt. "You'll skin me and toss me out to the manatees, whatever." He turned back to the stairs leading up to the deck and began climbing them. "We have any more rum or what?"
Blackbeard's heart was still pounding. He sighed, letting Jack go on without him and instead walking back toward the room. Once he collapsed back onto his cot, he reached into his coat and brushed his fingers against the silk again, but didn't dare take it out.
He couldn't afford another close call like that. Not with the only fragment left of his old life, of his mother. Not with the only thing that reminded him of Edward in a new world where only Blackbeard existed. And he was determined to keep it safe for as long as Edward was still alive. He'd promised himself that much.