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Lucius inhaled the sea air and looked out into the wide expanse of ocean surrounding them on all sides. He tilted his head back to stare up at the clouds floating above the ship, squinting into the bright afternoon light. He exhaled slowly.
The state of affairs aboard the Revenge had gotten better since Lucius was discovered a few days ago. For one, he was regaining his strength and putting on weight again. Even though Fang was lying about him being sick to save his hide, it hadn’t been far off from the truth; living on one meal a day with limited water and constant stress wasn’t sustainable. When he had finally managed to get ahold of a mirror during those first few days out of hiding, his reflection had looked ill. Things were better now.
He enjoyed mealtimes with their skeleton crew. Blackbeard- no, Edward now- had stopped holding Jim in the brig, so the three remaining members of Ste- the former captain’s crew usually sat on one side of the table together while Ivan and Fang sat opposite. Their alliance to keep Lucius a secret had brought them all closer, but the friction between Blackbeard’s men and the others was still there, especially when First Mate Hands decided to join them. Thankfully, this wasn’t often, but his presence made everyone as miserable as he acted.
Edward had only ate with them once, and that was after Lucius had spent the day cooped up in the captain’s quarters with him trying to clean up the mess he’d made. The broken bottles were easy enough and the sheets could be laundered (or burned), but his hair was the worse of it. Lucius had wanted to just chop it and let the man regrow it, but the last thing he wanted to do was upset Edward when he was in this delicate state. It was utterly ridiculous how he had to tiptoe around the Dread Blackbeard’s precious feelings when he had been the one shoved overboard for no discernable reason. He was thankful the man couldn’t see the scowl his face had been set in the entire time he washed and combed his hair into something presentable. When his work was done, however, Edward meekly followed him out of the cabin and supped with them.
Lucius had spent the night crying into Fang’s chest as the man rocked him.
Things were better now, but not all was well. With over half the crew missing, the deck of the ship was eerie. There were no songs or joking conversations while they worked, especially when Izzy was supervising. They all carried an unnamed heaviness with them because it didn’t need to be named; they all knew each of them were grieving for the rest of the crew. They sat together at mealtimes and would bunk down together in Jim’s room at night. Even if they didn’t talk it through, just being with them helped him feel lighter. He wasn’t carrying the heaviness alone.
Lucius shook his head, clearing his wandering thoughts. He hadn’t come up on deck just to feel sorry or worse, to mourn; he had been given a task by Edward and he was going to finish it as quickly as possible.
He found First Mate Hands at the helm of the ship, looking over the wheel and out onto the horizon (to see where they were going? Lucius didn’t understand how navigating a ship worked and he wasn’t about to ask).
He walked up the steps and sat on a crate by the wheel, laying his notebook over his lap. He stared at the hard lines of Izzy’s face, then down at his bandaged foot and the cane propped against the steering rig.
Izzy didn’t acknowledge he had company now.
“Hey,” Lucius began.
“Go bother someone else,” Izzy said automatically. “Or better yet, go do your fucking job.”
“Oh, strong start, I can tell this is going to be a piece of cake,” Lucius scrunched up his nose, “And, actually, I am doing my job for once.”
Izzy scowled but pointedly did not look over.
“Captain Blackbeard asked me to get an official record of everything that’s happened since I took ill,” Lucius explained, “Since he’s a bit fuzzy on the details. He asked me to ask you first.”
“Christ,” Izzy smacked his head on the wheel, “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Hey, you said it, not me,” Lucius put his hands up in surrender.
“Did he really ask you to do that?” Izzy asked, “Or is this another one of your little games?”
“You wanna go ask him if he really meant it?” Lucius raised an eyebrow at him.
Izzy growled. “Fine, I’ll make this quick. You better have your quill ready.”
“Yup,” Lucius replied, popping the P, “When you’re ready.”
“Right, so after you ‘took ill,’ Blackbeard asked me and the crew to dispose of the old captain’s playthings. Then we marooned the crew, save for Jim and Frenchie, and we began sailing for Port Royal to restock and pick up a new crew. We got supplies, Captain said not to bother with a new crew yet, and now we’re heading for Nassau to find a ship or three to raid.”
Lucius stopped. “That’s it?”
“Yup,” Izzy said, popping the P as well.
“Seriously?”
“I’m not giving you a blow-by-blow of every little thing that happened while you were indisposed,” Izzy said. “It would be extremely boring guff.”
“But that’s it?” Lucius asked
“Broadly speaking,” Izzy massaged the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I dunno, it’s just… it’s almost been a month,” Lucius said. “I thought Blackbeard would have at least raided a ship by now, done one of his little fuckeries.”
“The captain has been preoccupied,” Izzy said.
“You mean he’s been moping,” Lucius snarked.
Izzy finally looked at him, shooting him a withering glare. “Watch your fucking mouth, bitch.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Lucius huffed, “I was just basing that off the vibes I got when he asked me to write his lyrics down for him.”
“Before you took ill?”
“Before I took ill,” Lucius agreed. “And last Tuesday when I literally spent the whole day in his room with him.”
“Yes, quite,” Izzy looked vaguely constipated, which Lucius had learned was his ‘I don’t want to think about it’ face.
Lucius looked down at his journal again. “So, back to the record-”
“Oh my god, seriously? Still hung up about that?” Izzy raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. “If you want gossip, go talk to one of your boyfriends about it.”
“What about your new cane, Izzy?” Lucius challenged.
Izzy turned on his heel and stalked over to where Lucius had sat himself, walking with a noticeable limb. “What I choose to wear or carry on my person is none of your fucking concern, Mr. Spriggs.”
“Mm, but I’m afraid major injuries are my concern, Mr. Hands,” Lucius frowned, eyebrows raising smugly.
Izzy’s eye twitched slightly. He leaned closer, staring harder at the man, before hissing, “Blackbeard already knows what happened, dog.”
“Does he?” Lucius turned his head and blinked, the picture of innocence. “I mean, I guess I could ask him, but his memory seems… unreliable, at the moment. I mean, he says he thought he pushed me overboard! Isn’t that ridiculous?”
Izzy looked like he might be ill for a moment, before he swallowed thickly and flicked his eyes down. “Gangrene.”
“Pardon?”
“Had to amputate my toe, happens sometimes if you don’t wear proper boots,” Izzy grimaced. “Nasty business.”
“My condolences,” Lucius said carefully.
Izzy back up carefully. “Is that an adequate explanation for the Captain?”
“Oh, yeah, that should do nicely,” Lucius nodded. He closed the book and stood up. “Thank you ever so much for your cooperation, First Mate Hands.”
As he retreated below deck, a myriad of questions swirled in his mind. He had given Izzy the chance to 'correct the record,' so to speak, and the man had actually taken it? What happened to his foot, actually happened to his foot, where the more savory lie was necrotic damage? Lucius knew he would probably never find out the answer, but that was his own fault, wasn't it? He could have pushed harder if he wanted to; hell he could have just asked Edward what had happened if he wanted to know that badly.
Something told him that, just this once, he didn't want to know the whole truth.