Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Ed were honest with himself, his current situation wasn’t unexpected.

Not the whole sitting below deck on a fancy Yacht in the harbor thing. That wasn’t something he could have foreseen. It was the part where he was drinking whiskey, listening to Adele, while in a silk robe and staring wistfully at a laptop screen with a broken heart.

GentlemanPirate: I know we’ve never done the whole personal thing, but I know you live in my area. Because of the photos you send. And, well, I was wondering if you might, maybe, want to meet. In person. 

Blackbeard1718 : Yeah. Sure. When. Where?

Ed had been fucking out of his mind when the guy he’d been messaging for half a fucking year had asked that. 

They’d “met” when said Gentleman Pirate posed the question in a chatroom speculating what Stede Bonnet had done to interest the pirate Blackbeard so much that he was a guest of his for two weeks not terribly long before they died. Ed replied with something ridiculous like maybe Blackbeard wanted to learn how to use all those stupid little forks and shit that fine dining seemed to require, and it started something.

From that one post, where they bantered back and forth and ignored any other input from anyone else, they started a sort of internet friendship. GentlemanPirate, Ed would learn from their DMs, had yet to hit forty(lucky bastard), but was nearing it. He was an English Major who had a degree in Library Science - a real academic sort. He’d been fascinated with pirate history as long as Ed had, and while Gent’s daughter had shared the interest, his wife discouraged it for reasons he could never understand.

Oh, and the wife was a beard. Because apparently old money and arranged marriages were still a thing that people had and did, and in order for GentlemanPirate to keep in his father’s good graces, he had to fit into the mold he was expected to.

They never shared photos of themselves, but every once in a while they would send one another a picture of something they’d seen or thought amusing. After Ed passed a couple of signs he’d seen from the Gent first, he’d figured out they were from the same seaside town. 

He’d thought of it, asking to meet in person. Hell, he’d considered giving his real name more than once. How the Gent didn’t already know who he was was actually kind of amusing. His handle wasn’t precisely subtle.

But that was neither here nor there. 

Ed glanced away from the week-old message from the Gent and drained the whiskey in his glass before getting up to refill it.

GentlemanPirate: On my way. Shouldn’t be too long, just a quick stop before I arrive at the cafe. Looking forward to meeting you!

Yeah, sure. Which is why Ed sat in the Cafe like a fucking loser for hours. Hours. He closed down the bloody cafe without a word from the man he’d been dying to meet. He’d been something different in Ed’s monotonous life, and Ed had hoped that the Gent would be the change he so desperately needed.

He’d been bored because, for the most part, every day was exactly the same. Every week, every month, every year for the last decade could have been a time loop for all the monotony of it. Six days a week he was at Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill (and gift shop) from five in the morning until six to eight o’clock at night. Or, to change it up, he’d work nights from three to midnight, but it was still the same shit at a different hour. Ed would go home, shower, eat a sandwich, watch something on TV because he had no energy to do much else, and maybe poke around on the internet a bit. Ivan and Fang would come by the restaurant, sometimes every day sometimes not depending on their schedules. They’d sit at the bar and Ed would join them, Izzy coming by reluctantly while bitching that if he was gonna be there he might as well be back in the kitchen. 

Ed was also lonely. Painfully, horribly lonely because despite being surrounded by people he liked well enough he still went home alone at the end of the day. 

For a while, that hadn’t been so bad. He would chat with the Gent for a few hours, their banter bordering on flirting. He’d left his Grindr unchecked for long enough that his phone notified him it was putting it to sleep. Izzy had noted that Ed hadn’t gone home with anyone in a while, and hadn’t come in smelling like some other guy’s cologne. 

Instead of fulfilling his hopes that maybe he would be doing that again after his meet-up with the Gent, Ed had called in the next day and told Izzy that he was taking at least a day, maybe two, from his over-accumulated personal days, and spent it lamenting to Captain Morgan.

Ed had tried to send a message, of course. He wasn’t an idiot. He had to make sure he had had the right cafe, and then the right time, and then the right fucking day. But when he heard absolutely nothing, it wasn’t hard to figure out what happened.

The Gent walked up to the cafe, saw Ed -the only middle-aged man sitting in there on his own all night - and bolted.

Maybe it was the beard or the wild, graying hair. Maybe the tattoos on his arms had been the nail in the coffin. Or, maybe, it was the way he dressed with his dark, ripped denims and the shirt that had seen better days under a leather jacket. Whatever, didn’t fucking matter.

He’d been saying as much to good ol’ Captain Morgan, too, when the ceiling in his kitchen and bathroom collapsed with a mighty gush of water. That had sobered him up fast.

It’s how he ended up in his current state: living on a yacht he didn’t own and all. 

Hotels were expensive, and would eat away at his savings too quickly. No apartments would lease him month to month, and his condo wasn’t supposed to take that long to fix up. He was about to cave to the repeated offers of staying at Izzy’s where he’d likely be sleeping on the sofa when Ed found an unusual ad he couldn’t resist. A month-to-month lease for the Yacht. Meant to house a small family, the lady who rented - and for really cheap, considering - figured the ad would be answered by tourists. She said it would break the owner’s heart to have it sit there unloved, and it was a good way to make sure it wasn’t going to fall into disrepair sitting in the marina.

Ed had pointed out that he could steal it, but the look the woman - Margie, Marion, something like that - had given him had him zipping it. He liked boats. And hell, the yacht wasn’t terribly big so he could probably, maybe manage it on his own if he used the engine and not the sails. Plus, it was close enough to the restaurant that if he didn’t want to use his bike he could walk.

It was mental, and Izzy called him a lunatic for wanting to live on a boat instead of with him, but fuck him. Nothing wrong with being a lunatic, and the boat had a fucking walk-in closet! There were silk sheets on the bed, and more pillows on the fucking sofa than Ed ever had on his own bed, let alone the amount on the bed itself.

Plus, on the boat, Ed could do the whole drinking and listening to songs about heartbreak without Izzy fucking Hands telling him to get it together and man up. Also, Izzy wouldn’t have had a silk robe he could pilfer from the depths of his fucking walk-in closet. One, because Izzy didn’t have a walk-in. And two, because if Izzy had silk anywhere in his home, it was probably in his drawer of naughty things.

Ed had checked the nightstands in the master bedroom of the yacht for naughty things, but the woman must have cleared them out if there had been any.

“Waste, too,” Ed said to himself. He wasn’t sure if it was related to the runaway thoughts, or the time he spent talking to the bloke whose screen name he’d been staring at.

Closing the laptop, Ed turned to look out the window behind the couch he was perched on, sitting with his legs stretched across the length of it.

It was dark out, but Ed could still make out the shape of the other boats in the marina thanks to the lights dotting the docks, and even those on some of the boats themselves. There wasn’t much going on out there, not at this hour and not on a weeknight. The yacht rocked gently, the water calm this close to shore with nothing to really disturb it.

Honestly, it made Ed feel like maybe he was the only one out there, totally alone and separate from civilization. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being in the middle of the ocean, with no one around for miles to see him at the lowest he’d been in a fucking long time.

Which is why he was both terribly surprised to look away from the waves as Adele crooned to find a blonde man in a blue, tailored suit looking at Ed in confusion and asking, “what are you doing on my boat?”

~S~

Stede knew something had been off for a bit. There were a lot of gaps in his memory from the last week and a bit. Things he couldn’t quite recall and moments where he thought he should be wide awake and yet didn’t remember being so.

If he were honest, the last thing he remembered clearly was a feeling. Giddy excitement laced with a freedom so palpable he could tear up over a fleeting thought regarding it.

Before that is even hazier, but he was pretty sure of one thing: Stede wasn’t exactly dead, but he wasn’t really alive either. 

He knew this because he woke up on his yacht, and while he could lay on the bed, sit in a chair, or move about the vessel as he wished, he couldn’t interact with it. Couldn’t start the engine, couldn’t do anything with the sails. He couldn’t eat or drink, not that he got hungry or thirsty. He couldn’t use the laptop he’d had on the coffee table, no matter how much he tried. 

At least he tried until Mary came by and collected it along with every single thing that had anything to do with Stede directly: pictures, papers, electronics, those sorts of things. Then he tried to interact with her.

“Oh, come on,” He grumbled in frustration when she wouldn’t acknowledge him. “Eleven years of marriage! I thought we were friends?” 

Mary then pulled her phone out of her pocket with something like desperation and put it to her ear. “Hello?” She’d said, hopeful tension making her seize. “Yes, this is she. Is this about Stede?”

“I’m right here,” He frowned, before realizing that she really didn’t know he was. She hadn’t been ignoring him, she genuinely didn’t know he was there. Only confirmed when she walked through him as she made to leave the yacht in haste. 

No one saw him. He would go up on deck, wave to those milling about on the docks or other boats, and no one gave him so much as a glance.

It was getting really quite lonely, especially as every time he thought to leave the boat he would find himself waking up in bed. He had no way to contact his friends, the few he had. He couldn’t even…

Blackbeard1718 probably didn’t notice he was gone. Probably hadn’t realized that Stede had gone dark because Blackbeard1718 came across as cool. Probably only continued chatting with Stede out of pity. But even still, Stede hated that he couldn’t somehow contact the man just to let him know that he was… whatever he was.

So, he was lonely and had been for a bit. Which is why he was so startled when he came to on the bed laying on what he always deemed his side, only to hear music coming from the living area. He rose up, frowning the whole time in utter confusion. When he was on his feet, he noted a black, hardshell suitcase at the foot of the bed,  and a well-worn, gray one that had probably once been black beside it. 

Stede then turned to the open doorway and headed out into the main sitting area. 

The stereo was playing rather loudly, Stede’s CD collection having been raided, as had his whiskey from the looks of the decanter on the sidebar.

Perched on the bench by the window was a man with long, wild salt and pepper hair and a matching beard. He was wearing one of Stede’s robes and a pair of pajama pants that looked well-loved.

He seemed to be staring out at the water with resignation and sadness, an empty whiskey glass clutched in his hand as he sang quietly along to Adele. He didn’t look like an Adele fan, though Stede learned not to judge books by their covers ages ago. 

He expected a mystery, a little blip in the boredom and loneliness. He could easily watch the fellow, try to suss out his intentions and whatnot. Wouldn’t be a terrible thing, Stede realized, when the man turned away from the window, allowing Stede to get a proper look at him. Better still as he seemed to be looking right at Stede.

“What are you doing on my boat?” He wondered aloud to himself and was startled terribly when the man shouted, sending the glass in his hand to the ground with a thunk.

 ~E~

The fact that the glass didn’t shatter hadn’t registered in Ed’s mind at all, though later he was sure he would be grateful for it since he wasn’t wearing anything on his feet.

The man in turn shouted as well, startling bodily before narrowing his eyes at Ed. 

“You can see me?!” He asked, voice pitching higher.

“The fuck you on about, of course, I see you!” Ed shouted back, getting to his feet and taking two steps toward the man. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I see you? And what the fuck do you mean, your boat?”

“This is my boat!” The man shouted back, gesturing about the living space. “That’s my CD you’re listening to and my Whiskey you’re drinking.”

“What?” Ed frowned. “Hell, you saying that bitch rented this place out to more than one person?”

“Did you just… did you just call Mary a bitch?”

“Who the fuck is Mary?”

“My wife!”

“Oh,” Ed said, looking down at the glass on the floor, then over at the decanter. He swore he hadn’t been drinking that much, but clearly, he was hallucinating. Why else would there be a bloke, a pretty good-looking one, at that, standing in the living space claiming to be the owner of the boat? Or married to the woman who rented it out.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbled. “Right, pity party over. I’m going to bed. Cheers,” he said, moving to the stereo and shutting it off.

“What, pity party? Bed?” The man followed Ed as he made his way to the master bedroom where he’d dropped his shit earlier. 

“Yep, I’m clearly drunk, and I’m in no mood to deal with that and all the shit that comes with it. So, I’m going to bed.” He flashed a humorless smile over his shoulder at the man who stood in the room gaping at him. 

Ed took the opportunity to slink into the ensuite, closing the door behind him and bracing himself on the counter. He took a breath and then another until he realized the nausea he had been trying to hold back was non-existent. 

But the deep breaths did help slow his heart rate, calming him after the whole startling revolution that a very attractive man was on the boat with Ed. One who claimed it was his.

The clarity that came with calming down, and realizing he was still very sober, gave Ed the ability to make this all make sense.

Guy claims the boat is his. Woman said Ed could never take it out of the harbor. Clearly, this was some sort of dispute thing, like the stories he’d heard about scorned women selling a beloved car for a few dollars and sending what they got for the normally exceedingly expensive vehicles to their former and unfaithful husbands. 

That had to be what was happening here. The wife had clearly caught this bloke doing something - or someone - and decided that this was how she would get back at him.

Ed was bracing himself to open the door, the words to make a deal with this guy on the tip of his tongue when the fucker suddenly came into the bathroom through the closed and locked door.

“I really can’t say I like how you spoke about Mary,” he said in a calm voice, but Ed was too busy screaming, picking up things from the counter and throwing them at the guy, watching them pass right through him.

“Piss off, ghost!” He said as his chest heaved and his heart raced, making a damn fine effort to have him join the specter currently looking at him like he was an unruly child.

“That’s very uncalled for. And why would you throw toiletries like that? Seriously, they could have broken.” The man made a move to pick them up and then seemed to catch himself. Sheepishly he straightened up with a shy smile. “I’m afraid we got off on a very wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Stede. Stede Bonnet.”

“Huh,” Ed said, blinking, “like the pirate.”

Stede lit up, “Yes! Exactly!”

“Right,” Ed said, blinking. “I’m definitely losing my fucking mind, then.”

Chapter Text

Ed had snapped. It was bound to happen eventually, he supposed. Life sucking and all that. He didn’t think when it happened he would come to have hallucinations of a man his age who he found mildly (fuck it, very) attractive who chided him for throwing fancy ass bottles of, what? Moisturizer? Some sort of oil? He hadn’t actually looked to see what was on the counter when he arrived, and he definitely didn’t pay attention to them when he was throwing them at the bloke.

And to see the very mild-mannered man taking in his mental break like… well, he didn’t fucking know. Ed was sure he’d seen parents look at their kids the same way when they bumped themselves and cried like it was the end of the world.

“The polite thing would be to tell me your name,” Stede - because if he was on the brink of insanity enough to provide a fucking name for his hallucination, he might as well use it - looked at him expectantly.

“Right,” Ed blinked, “right, polite. Because I should totally, one-hundred percent make nice with the part of my brain gone crazy.”

“You aren’t crazy,” Stede said calmly, kindly.

“Which is exactly something a crazy person would say, isn’t it?” 

Ed bent down and scooped up the bottles, all glass of course, and then placed them on the counter again. It had been pretty lucky that he hadn’t smashed them and genuinely had no idea how he’d managed it. Small space, perhaps? Not enough distance to really get in some good terminal velocity or whatever.

After they were returned roughly to where they were on the counter, though not nearly as neatly, he side-stepped Stede as much as he possibly could, trying not to touch him as he made for the door then, slipped out.

He dove for the bed, diving under the blankets and burying his head underneath the pillow. Ed may or may not have bumped his head on the headboard while landing, the silk providing less than optimal friction. But hell, he was already seeing someone who wasn’t there, what more could possibly happen?

He waited there beneath the cool sheets, doing his damnedest to control his breaths. After a while, his heart rate calmed, the tension in his shoulders eased, and Ed had convinced himself that he hadn’t seen a blonde man, or had a conversation with him.

Slowly, Ed moved out from under the blankets, peeking around the room to see if there were any signs of Stede. When none came, he heaved a sigh of relief, then reached for the phone he had set to charging on the bedside table when he got in.

Right, time to start mindlessly browsing the internet for something to watch for the next hour so he didn’t feel terribly old for going to bed early. 

~S~

Stede left the mystery man to hide under the blankets and retreated to the living area. Which ended up being a bad idea because he itched to be able to tidy up the place, and since he could only sit, stand, or lay down, that wasn’t going to happen. 

He peeked into the galley, finding it still unused. If the man had been on the yacht long enough to eat, it wasn’t anything he made. That, or he was extremely fastidious in the way he tidied up in the kitchen rather than the general living area. 

Stede then made his way around, glancing in the dining room and the library, finding both seemingly unused or unexplored at this point. The kids' rooms at the opposite end remained as it was. Their toys were probably tucked away, still, since he was sure he hadn’t seen Mary take those away. Not that they had ever been used since Stede wasn’t allowed to take the kids away from the Marina and he’d only been living on the yacht for…. 

Gosh, how long had he been living on the yacht? He knew he was living on it, that much he was sure about. Some called it a midlife crisis, but the fact was Stede had wanted a boat he could live on since he was a small boy. He dreamed of summers spent on the ocean, making his way up and down the coast and having adventures. 

When the time had come, and Stede was able to leave the lavish house he and Mary had been settled in, he’d headed right for the marina. Mary had thought he was insane, wanting to live on the boat, but then she always hated the ocean so her opinion was a bit moot. 

She’d been supportive of it but made him swear not to take the kids on the water. He hadn’t had them to his yet, so….

Not long? It was the best he could have guessed since he didn’t remember much.

He recalled quietly going to the attorney’s office with Mary when the kids were in school. It had been ten years, and three hundred sixty-four days from the one when they said “I do”, meaning that they could, officially, start drawing up the papers for the divorce they’d both wanted since before they even got to the alter.

Stede remembered a champagne lunch and the promise they made to each other that they wouldn’t say a word until the whole thing was completely and totally finalized. Their lawyer went through everything with a fine tooth comb, and the only thing that would cause legal upheaval between the Bonnet and Allamby estates was if there was separation or termination of marriage within the first ten years of their marriage. There had been clauses and bonuses to be had for both: more assets given to them should they remain married for all the following landmark anniversaries, more handed down for every child, especially if they were male, appearing happily married at social functions.

And, of course, for remaining faithful. Stede had been fully aware of Doug since the first night Mary returned from her painting class, but he wasn’t an asshole. Mary had been discreet, no one in the family seemed to have an inkling it was happening, so he would remain mum on his knowledge of the whole thing until the papers were finalized.

Funny enough, he couldn’t recall if they were. 

As Stede tried to think about it, his mind blurred. And when his mind blurred too much, he found the deep desire to go to sleep came swiftly after.

If he’d been aware, he might have been surprised that he was there one moment and gone the next.

Instead, he sort of blinked, and found himself flat on his back on what he would deem his side of the bed, just as mystery man began to wake up on the other side.

He watched the man slowly blink open his eyes before they widened and he attempted to roll away.

“Shit!” Came the curse just before he toppled over the edge of the bed, and Stede frowned as he rolled over.

He was about to stretch to check on the bloke when he darted up in a mass of wild, salt and pepper hair.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yep, yep, peachy. Fucking peachy,” the man said as he looked through the window at the sliver of silver-blue sky just beginning to light up with the early morning sun. The man then glanced down at the phone on his nightstand, waking it just long enough for the lockscreen to come to life.

Stede only got a glimpse of it, but he thought the imagery was familiar. It went dark before he could get a better look, and the bloke was heading for the ensuite.

“Do me a favor, let me shower in peace, alright? Get that you’re in my fuckin’ head, but still.”

“I’m not in your head,” Stede tried to say, but the man was closing the door most of the way.

He had to wonder if the man would realize he hadn’t brought any clothes in.

With a sigh, Stede rose from the bed and made his way to the sitting room. It was still a mess from the night before, or at least not pristine, which is how Stede would have left it before tucking in. He sat on the sofa tucked under the window instead, deciding to watch the sunrise.

It was only once he was trying to find the hint of the sun that Stede realized it hadn’t crested the horizon yet. He’d thought the dim glow in the bedroom was because the windows there were facing west, but it turned out to just be early.

He glanced around, finding the seashell clock he was told was kitsch but he absolutely adored it for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint. It read barely five in the morning, indicating that it was indeed the early light of pre-dawn he was seeing.

The shower turned off, and Stede strained to listen for the mystery man. He could hear quiet grumbling laced with cursing coming from the bedroom as he moved about. About ten minutes after Stede the shower stopped, the mystery man came striding out from the bedroom.

He was dressed in well-fitted pants that Stede couldn’t tell if they were actually leather or just a material that gave off the look.  A deep, purple tank top covered the man’s chest, showing off two lightly toned arms covered in tattoos. No colored ink, not even one cohesive sleeve like Stede had seen so often, but a mishmash of various images and possibly one big thing on each arm that Stede was too far to see. There were also tattoos peeking out from beneath the collar of the tank top, but the man was moving too fast for Stede to get a good look at them.

“Fucking running late,” He heard the man mumble as he grabbed a bag near the stairs and started to head above deck.

Curious, Stede followed, trailing a few feet behind him and stopping at the rail as the man walked down the gangplank. Stede watched the man, easy to do with his mane of hair, head up to the parking lot past the locked gate.

He disappeared from view, but the roar of a bike engine a few moments later told Stede where he was, and the vehicle looping the parking lot before heading toward the street and out of Stede’s sight.

Quite intriguing, he was. Stede couldn’t help but find the man attractive, which might be why he thought of him as lovely despite his attitude. He just wished he knew why the man was on his boat in the first place.

~E~

Ed arrived at the restaurant only a few minutes after leaving the marina. He tried not to think of how Stede was sitting on the couch casually as he left, or how blatantly he’d given Ed the once over.

Seriously, how lonely and heartbroken was he that his fucking hallucination was checking him out?

He went through the back entrance as he always did, leaving it propped open for the various deliveries that would start coming in as well as for Roach who was probably around the other corner having a smoke before coming in to start prep.

Ed went to his office, swapped his leather jacket his black chef’s jacket, washed his hands as he entered the kitchen, and began the methodical work of getting everything ready for later.

Ed hadn’t even really noticed when Roach came in aside from silence shifting to sound as the stereo was turned on. He glanced up to give his fellow chef a nod and a grin, receiving a lazy salute and a smirk in return.

Others came in while they worked, bringing the kitchen to life. Izzy’s voice broke over the din on occasion, though to Ed it was all just part of the background noise. Deliveries were being dropped off, and once in a while, it would require him to break from work and sign off as whatever was being delivered required the manager or owner, and Izzy wasn’t immediately handy.

Around eight, Ed took a break to walk down the road to the little corner store. He didn’t do it every morning shift, but often enough that he did have a usual. A shitty, packaged pastry and one-dollar coffee that he could load with as much sugar as he wanted without being judged by anyone in the kitchen. Today he grabbed the paper as well, figuring skimming it would give him something to do that wasn’t checking his phone and potentially reliving the disappointment of not hearing from the Gent.

After the mute exchange of head tilts and grunts with the man behind the counter, Ed tucked the paper under his arm and tore into the less-than-stellar pastry on his walk back. Fucking nightmare, it was. No real flavor except sugar and cardboard. If he focused really hard, he could taste a hint of strawberry jam, but that required too much energy, and he really didn’t want to bother.

Ed never stayed in the staffroom, even if it was raining. Rather, he would sit on the crates he used to prop open the door and sip his coffee so he could chat with his people if he was in the mood. If he was feeling anti-social, he’d go to his office. But after dreaming up an attractive man who happened to share the name of the same pirate the Gent referenced it didn’t seem like a great idea to be alone. So far, “Stede” hadn’t popped up, and Ed was hoping that being around people would ensure he wouldn’t.

“Who won the match?” Roach asked over his shoulder, glancing at the paper in Ed’s hand despite it being too far away for Roach to see.

“How the fuck would I know?” He retorted without looking up from skimming the headline article, which had nothing to do with sports. It was just more of the usual shit making the front page these days, so Ed flipped the paper to the next page and took a sip of his coffee.

He choked on it when he saw the smiling face of the man he made up smiling back at him in black and white.

No leads on Bonnet crash , the title read. Ed coughed and cleared his throat, giving a thumbs up in the vague direction of whoever was asking after him. He was focused on the too-short bit in front of him.

Stede Bonnet, only son of the late real estate mogul Edwin Bonnet, was struck at the intersection of Main and fifth last Friday evening. Bonnet is currently in stable condition at St Augustine Hospital, recovering from extensive injuries from the crash. Police are still trying to identify the car and driver who left the scene of the accident before first responders arrived.

There was more of course, and Ed read that as well as the first bit on repeat over and over. 

“Fucking sucks what happened,” Jim’s voice said over Ed’s shoulder, and he startled violently enough he almost spilled his half-gone coffee. Jim carried on, ignoring the quiet cursing coming from their boss. “My partner works with him. One of those really smart but very dumb sorts, ya know?”

“Wait,” Ed frowned, “ain’t Oluwande a librarian or some shit?”

“Yeah,” Jim said as though Ed was being an idiot. 

He glanced at the paper pointedly, and when Jim continued to look at him with that same “you’re an idiot” look, he jabbed at the sentence with the whole Bonnet real estate mogul bit while trying not to drop his coffee.

Jim rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, Stede owns the damn library. Took, like, a good chunk of his trust fund and built it up. Why it’s nicer than the fucking city library and shit. Guy can be annoying as hell, and if I don’t tune him out, sometimes I get the urge to stab him, but he’s a genuinely good person.” Then, with a frown, Jim asked, “you know ‘im?”

“Huh? No,” Ed said, looking back at that smile that was kinda nice to look at when it wasn’t patronizing. “No, I don’t know him at all.”

—

Hours later, Ed found himself going to his office, nursing a headache and a mild grease burn on his hand, thanks to some fucking idiot crowding his space. Despite it only being four-thirty, he was thinking of packing it in early, knowing the ridiculous amount of paperwork he should do could still wait for another day and not wanting to be at the restaurant another fucking second.

He paused just inside his door, looking at his desk, the paper work piled on top of it with dread.  He glanced at the leather coat on the rack and made the split second decision that he was, in fact, going to fuck off back to the yacht. 

Ed was just starting to unbutton his chef’s coat when he heard the telltale beat of Izzy’s footsteps coming down the hall.

With a quiet sigh, Ed headed for his chair and plopped down heavily. His knee ached, but that was nothing new. At this point, the pain from it was part of the background noise of his life. Right there with his breath and his heartbeat, unnoticed most of the time but always present.

He stretched his leg out with a quiet groan, gritting his teeth as Izzy stepped in and closed the door.

“Heard you tearing the new kid’s head off,” Izzy said a bit too gleefully.

“Prick should be fired,” Ed said without heat, glancing at the burn on his hand.

“I’ll gladly do it,” Izzy offered immediately.

Ed debated a moment, then sighed, “No, leave it. Give him another go.”

“And here I thought you were back,” Izzy grumbled. “Old you would have thrown his ass out on the spot.”

“Yeah, well, that was when we were still working our way up, wasn’t it? These days, you fire someone too quick, and we’re all buried deep the rest of the day. Can’t risk a mutiny, last thing I need is the rest of the staff to piss off and walk out.”

In truth, it had only been at the beginning when Ed would fire someone without much cause. Back when he had something to prove.

He wasn’t classically trained or any of that shit, and he didn’t have the grades (or high school diploma) for college. But after a few close calls with the police in his youth, and after his dad walked out on his mum for the last time, Ed knew he needed a fucking job. 

Most places wouldn’t take him, not for even the lowest paid job. Hornigold decided to give him a shot. Back then, the bar and grill had been named something else, and it was far more bar than grill. Hornigold had been classically trained and might have been something great if he didn’t drink like a fish and treat his body like utter shit. 

He’d liked Ed, though. Liked him enough to notice him doing a pretty good job in the kitchen. Didn’t take much to get his food handlers certificates, and then began informally training Ed as an apprentice. He’d been a natural, and what he made was good enough to bring interest back to the grill side of things. Enough that when the way Hornigold treated his body led to the inevitable need for a will, he left it all Ed.

Things weren’t easy in the beginning. People didn’t care to work for a guy who didn’t formally train, and those who played nice during the interview sometimes tried to take over the kitchen. They’d learned fast that Ed wouldn’t be pushed around, and just because he didn’t have a fancy degree didn’t mean he didn’t demand perfection. He’d fire a man for cutting onions too thick if they tried to argue, let alone someone who would be careless enough to cause Ed to burn himself.

These days, though, he was a bit more understanding. It might have been old age, or maybe channeling Gordan Ramsey was getting boring. He would never admit to anyone in a million fucking years that maybe the court-appointed therapist he kind of liked may have taught him better ways to cope with his anger and frustations. 

Turnover rates were lower than they had been for a while, that was certain. But it wasn’t going to stay that way if Izzy got ax happy.

Vaguely, Ed remembered lamenting to GentlemanPirate about Izzy’s last little tirade about a month ago. One of the new waiters messed up a few times in their first week. Nothing big, from what Ed remembered, and as far as he knew, there hadn’t been any complaints. But Izzy tossed the poor kid aside with a promise they’d never work in a restaurant again.

Ed hadn’t wanted to rock the boat with Izzy to hire the kid back, but he wrote them a glowing recommendation and said it was an over-staffing issue as to why they were let go.

The Gent had thought he should have spoken up anyway, what with him being the boss. But aside from the small commentary, he just listened. Well, read, really, since they never actually spoken to each other. 

A wave of melancholy hit Ed pretty square in the chest at the thought, and he wanted to go home and curl up with a stiff drink to try and wash it away.

Problem was, home wasn’t really home but the boat he was renting from the wife of a car crash victim. And said car crash victim was apparently haunting it despite being in stable condition.

It was all really messed up, which was an even better reason to drink than trying to drown out a bit of heartache.

And the couch on that boat was really fucking comfortable.

“You actually got anything more to tell me? Or can I get the fuck out of here?” Ed asked Izzy, allowing a bit of his annoyance to color his tone.

“What?” Izzy frowned, looking down at his watch. “It’s not even five o’clock.”

“Well, I’m fucking tired, aren’t I?” Ed glared back. “Just go fucking… scowl at the menus, or some shit. Just get outta here.” Ed waved him off, the fight draining out of him. 

Izzy looked like he was going to argue, then nodded sharply. 

And all at once, it was like he was tired, too. He softened his edges in the way that Ed was pretty sure only he was allowed to see. Not too soft, of course, but Izzy seemed a bit more human.

“I’m worried about you, Edward,” he said as gently as Izzy ever could, which pretty much meant he kept the sneer out of his tone. 

“Nothing to worry about,” Ed shot back before getting up from the chair with a groan. He peeled off his Chef’s jacket, switching it out for his leather coat. “I’m out.”

“Ice that knee!” Izzy snapped as Ed tried to mask the limp in his step as he went down the hall. He rolled his eyes and forced himself to swagger, moving with the limp like he meant it.

~S~

Stede had drifted during the day, but he was pleased that he didn’t do it long. A couple of hours here and there, but nothing too worrisome. Nothing that made him think he wasn’t going to return to whatever limbo he was in.

He spent most of the morning up above deck. At least until he noticed a balding man staring at him from where he was perched two boats over, naked as the day he was born. The man had been standing at the bow with his arms spread wide, but his gaze was pointed firmly at Stede. It was creepy if Stede were honest. But he smiled politely and waved, relieved when he didn’t get one back, and disappeared to the sitting area below.

After that, it was all a bunch of pacing and meandering. Being bored. Not getting to do anything.

It was getting toward dinner time when he heard a heavy thud on the deck above, followed by the clomping of boots across it to the stairs, and then down.

The man that Stede found on his yacht had returned, a little sweaty looking, hair tied back where it hadn’t been before. Everything about him screamed tired and achy, and there was no question he came back from wherever he worked.

“Stede Bonnet,” he said by way of greeting.

“That’s me!” He smiled, hoping this was when he would get a name.

“You’re a librarian, are married, two kids, and got into a car accident about a week ago.”

“I did?” Stede frowned, trying to search his memory for the incident. He thought he could vaguely recall the surprise of being struck on the driver’s side, the confusion, but then nothing.

“It’s what I saw in the paper this morning,” the man said as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a slight wince. “Said you were in stable condition. So why’re you here? Haunting your boat?”

“I,” Stede frowned, “I don’t know.” He said, glancing around the room like it would have given him clues. “I think… I think I was going somewhere important. Maybe here… I know my stuff was here before you came in. I had a picture of my children on the wall, just there. I watched Mary, my wife, take it down. Gosh, is she still my wife?”

“Well, you aren’t dead,” the man reminded him pointedly.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that,” Stede waved him off. “But we were hoping to have it dissolved now that we could.”

“Hoping?” The man’s eyes went wide.

“Well, it was a rather loveless marriage,” Stede shrugged, probably a bit too nonchalant over ending an eleven-year marriage than most would be. Then, because he was getting a bit impatient for not knowing, said, “I’m sorry. I never did get your name.”

The man stared at him like he was thinking about it.

“Ed,” The man provided.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ed. And believe me, if I knew why I was here, I’d see to it that I could correct it.”

“So you can’t, I dunno, fuck off to somewhere else? Like the hospital where you are or back with the wife you apparently don’t want to be married to.”

“I can’t,” Stede said regretfully, and Ed groaned before stepping off the last step with a wince. He then limped toward the galley, and Stede followed for want of something to do. 

He watched from the doorway as Ed took out a pack of frozen peas that looked rather frost burnt and made his way back toward the living room.

“Can’t get over the fucking niceness of this place,” Ed said absently as he passed by Stede, heading for the sitting room.

“It was intended to be a home,” Stede admitted as Ed flopped down on the sofa, stretching his whole body over it. He dropped the bag of peas on his left knee with a hiss before closing his eyes and throwing his arm over his face. “Long day?” Stede ventured.

Ed shrugged one shoulder.

“The ushe,” He replied. “Same as any other fucking day.”

“What do you do?” Stede asked as he took a seat in a chair by Ed’s head. “You know I’m a librarian.”

“Yeah, one who owned the fucking library you worked at because you’re fuckin’ rich as shit,” Ed replied, but it wasn’t said unkindly. With a sigh, Ed added, “Blackbeard’s. I’m the head guy.”

“Oh!” Stede perked up. “You work for Blackbeard?”

Ed snorted, “Never thought of it like that before. But, yeah. And also no, because I am Blackbeard. So, work for meself, but also, ya know.”

“Oh,” Stede said again, only this time it felt like a gut punch. He’d wondered if maybe the Blackbeard who owned the rather famous restaurant was the same one he was chatting with for months, but he never dared to ask. 

The picture he’d built up in his mind of his Blackbeard may or may not have been somewhat derived from the numerous depictions of the legendary captain. Which meant that Stede more or less had a smoky haze of a man who was near his age with a beard that was black and not a whole lot else.

Somehow, Ed was both better and nothing like Stede could have imagined. Which made it feel like his Blackbeard was someone else entirely.

“Well, I am a very big fan,” Stede said without missing a beat. “I try to get a reservation whenever possible, and have been known to go on the wait list from time to time. Even choose to sit at the bar, which I will say I don’t do for just any ol’ place.”

“Really? Pretty sure I’d have noticed a Stede Bonnet on the reservation list.”

“I don’t use my actual name,” Stede smirked. “Never for reservations if it can be helped. I’m aware people might recognize me if they’re into the whole wealthy people celebrity thing, but if I say my name is Stede Thomas or Edwards, no one blinks an eye.”

“People actually treat you like a fucking celebrity?” Ed asked, moving his arm to frown at Stede.

He shrugged, “The family name carries a lot of weight. It’s been intertwined with the city for so long that it still draws a bit too much… I guess you could say we’re treated a bit too formally.”

“Wouldn’t in my place,” Ed grumbled before tucking his face back under his arm.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stede replied with a grin before it fell with his next thought. “That is if I remember anything that’s happening while I’m… disconnected. Or, if I even make it out of the hospital.”

“Stable condition,” Ed repeated.

“That’s what the family would want put in the papers,” Stede admitted glumly. “Heaven forbid anyone from the Bonnet family be seen as weak in any sort of way.”

“Sound like a lovely bunch,” Ed deadpanned, and Stede snorted.

“Don’t they just? I suppose I should be glad if anyone can see me it’s you and not one of them. Granted, why you can see me is a bit odd, but at least the worst you’ve said to me is ‘piss off, ghost.’”

“Sure I can come up with something more offensive after a nap.” Ed said with a smirk.

“Shall I leave you to it, then?” Stede mused, looking at the melting bag of peas on his roommate’s knee.

He tried not to cringe too much, even if Ed couldn’t see it. A boat was not the place to worry about watermarks on fabric, which is why he had talked himself out of the more delicate upholstery. Still, old habits.

“Maybe with luck, when I wake up, you won’t have to be here anymore,” Ed shot back, sounding half-asleep. “Now that I’ve filled you in on things. You know, no unfinished business and what not.”

“I thought you said I wasn’t dead?”

“I thought you said your family wouldn’t make you look weak in the papers?” Ed quipped back, and the lift of his beard on one side told Stede he was smiling.

“Touche,” he countered. “Rest well, Ed.”

Unsure where else to go, what with not really having anything he could do, Stede decided to venture above deck and watch the world move.

He did feel better, which was something he hadn’t realized he needed to feel. Having actually had a real conversation, and maybe knowing a bit about what happened, gave him a sense of life he’d been lacking the last week.

But he knew it wasn’t enough. Regardless of his actual physical condition, there was still something unsettled or unfinished in his soul. He could feel it. He just didn’t know what it was.

Chapter Text

Ed hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the couch, but at least it was comfortable. 

The peas were trash now,  which was a little disappointing. Waste not, want not, and all that. His knee was better, though, so Ed couldn’t feel too put out as he got up with a groan, getting to his feet with only a little twinge and heading to toss the bag in the garbage.

He didn’t see Stede anywhere, and Ed found himself looking for him as he placed a delivery order to be brought to the boat, or at least to the gate. He made sure to make a note to contact him if the person delivering couldn’t get in, then went to take a quick shower.

The water pressure wasn’t the best, but the water itself was the right sort of warm to ease out the aches that lingered. If Ed had longer, he might have indulged a little, but the last thing he needed was his food not getting to him because he took too long in the shower. 

In and out of the bathroom as quickly as he humanly could, he threw on some sweats, grabbed his phone, and headed above deck.

And there was Stede, standing at the rail, not quite leaning on it. 

Ed glanced around, looking for people who may or may not be watching their boat before asking, “you been up here long?”

Stede startled but didn’t yelp or comment on Ed’s abrupt appearance.

Instead, Stede looked around, and then up, before saying, “it seems I have.”

“What do not-ghosts have to ponder so hard that they lose track of time?” Ed asked curiously as he went to join Stede at the railing.

“Why we are what we are, I suppose,” Stede said with a purse of his lips and a furrow of his brow. “I wonder if I’m dying somewhere. If this is my way of hanging on when there’s nothing left in me to hang on to.”

“Gotta have something to live for,” Ed ventured, spotting a kid that looked barely out of high school slipping into the marina as someone was leaving, carrying a bag emblazoned with the restaurant he ordered from. “Real secure, this place,” Ed commented before straightening up. He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled long and loud. 

The kid whipped his head around and spotted Ed when he raised his head above his hand and waved. The kid started a jog toward the boat, looking more and more nervous the closer he got. Ed took pity on him, moving halfway down the gangplank and stretching to grab the bag.

“Cheers,” he said to the kid, slipping him an extra tip before turning around and heading in.

Stede frowned at the paper bag in his hands, and Ed was sure he followed as he headed back down below.

“You’re a renowned chef, and you’re having Mexican fast food for dinner?” Stede asked, sounding more confused than appalled.

“I didn’t ask for renown, and I can eat whatever the fuck I want,” Ed said as he made for the couch, dropping the bag on the coffee table before dropping himself on the middle cushion. “And since I have no one around to give a shit, Mexican.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad,” Stede said with a sigh and maybe an eye roll. “I’m just, well, I suppose I thought your palate would be more refined, given the sort of dishes you can whip up.” 

“My palate is more used to cheaper shit than even this,” Ed retorted as he unpacked a burrito and a glass bottle of cola. 

“College diet?” Stede offered with a smirk.

“Poor diet,” Ed countered as he unwrapped the burrito. It occurred to him that he didn’t have to talk to Stede, regardless of how persistent he was. He definitely didn’t have to tell him his life story or all the shit that went down with it. So, before Ed took a bite, he asked, “making you hungry?”

Stede’s smirk faded as he eyed Ed’s burrito with wistful longing. 

“Don’t get hungry. Or thirsty, for that matter. Which is probably for the best because I can’t interact with anything in a way that’s not sitting, standing or lying down.”

“Oh, but the smell,” Ed tried to egg on, moving his hand in an attempt to waft the scent Stede’s way. “The beef with the cumin and cilantro. The chilies and the garlic in rice and the beans. The peppers and the onions, it’s all just a fucking medley, mate. Take a whiff.”

But Stede merely shook his head. 

“Can’t do that, either. No taste, nothing.”

Ed frowned.

“Suppose if you’re a not-ghost, that makes a lot of sense,” Ed reasoned, tucking into his burrito a little more. Stede remained silent, looking out the window instead of at Ed out of politeness. 

Which was nice of him, really. Stede could have just stared at Ed, made him uncomfortable, tormented him for being on his boat. Ed would’ve if it had been the other way around. He imagined what it might have been like if he woke up one day and found a person living in his apartment that he didn’t know, and was the only person who could see him. That someone filled a space that Ed had occupied even though he wasn’t dead.

Yeah, he wouldn’t be as nice about it as Stede was. And Stede came from old money to boot, which in Ed’s long list of experiences meant he should have been a complete dick. He hadn’t been, so far.

“So, loveless marriage. Were about to divorce. Guess you don’t miss home, do you?”

“This was home,” Stede said absently, still looking out the window. “I miss my children, though. And Mary, to a certain extent.”

“Two kids, right?” Ed asked out of politeness.

“Yes, girl and a boy. Alma’s nine, rounding closer to ten. Louis is five, and such a mini version of myself that if my father was still around he’d probably wonder where the bad genes came from.”

“Sounds almost as delightful as my ol’ man,” Ed grumbled, setting the burrito down to thumb off the cap of his coke before taking a swig.

He didn’t fail to notice the grimace from Stede as he set down the sweating bottle on the coffee table, coasters ignored. He smirked before returning to his meal. 

“My father disliked everything about me,” Stede said bitterly. “Soft-handed, weak-hearted, lily-livered rich boy. It’s what my father called me constantly because I hadn’t the stomach for hunting. Enjoyed the gardens more than appropriate, and lacked the daring other boys had. That’s not even to mention my… leanings.” 

Ed furrowed his brow, “leanings? You got two kids, mate.”

“Well, it is possible, you know,” Then Stede finally looked at him, a cold, malicious glint in his eye even as he grinned. “That won’t be a problem, will it? Or do you have strong opinions about my sexuality you’re eager to share with me?”

“Be a bit of the pot calling kettle shit if I did,” Ed replied as he reached for his drink. He frowned as something tickled in the back of his mind, a thought he couldn’t quite grab. “So… wife was a beard, then?”

“Mary knew from the beginning, yes. I was upfront about it with her before we said our vows. Her parents had a reason aside from mergers, or joint ventures for having Mary married off to someone deemed - at least on paper - respectable and appropriate for her station.”

“Your parents knew it was, like, 2011, not 1711 or some shit, right?”

Stede shrugged, “Easier to marry for money and property. That way there’s no risk of gold diggers as everyone is relative of equal standing.”

“Fucking hell,” Ed grumbled, taking a drink before having a few more bites.

“What about you?” Stede asked after almost a minute. “Do you have someone out there waiting for you?”

“Mate, think of how you found me last night, and ask again.”

Stede winced sympathetically, “Guessing you had and it didn’t end well?”

Ed looked at the last bit of the burrito in his hand, finding food unappealing all of a sudden and glad he at least ate enough to satiate himself. Setting it down in its tinfoil, he grabbed a napkin and began to methodically clean his fingers.

“Hadn’t really begun, if I’m honest,” He said, figuring he had nothing to lose by sharing with a not-ghost. “Went to meet a guy I’d been talking to online, bloke never showed.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Stede said sincerely. “I’d been thinking about asking a man I’d been speaking with to meet as well, though hearing what happened to you has me hesitant.”

“Well, that and the being in a coma somewhere, possibly dying, probably puts the timing off,” Ed quipped with a straight face. Stede’s following laugh, though, had his lips tugging upward, hidden only by his beard.

“Yes, I suppose there’s that as well,” Stede agreed. “I miss him, though. Is that strange? To miss someone you never met?”

Ed arched a brow as Stede turned to him, nose scrunched in curiosity.

Stede - inexplicably since he wasn’t really flesh and blood - blushed.

“Right,” he cleared his throat. “Well, his loss, whoever he was. I realize I don’t know you that well, but you seem absolutely lovely.”

Ed scoffed, “Not many people would call me lovely.”

“I’ve heard of your reputation,” Stede said as if reading part of Ed’s mind. “People have said you’re positively the devil to work for. Numerous rumors of you chopping off fingers and the like for such things as peeling garlic wrong.”

“I didn’t mean to chop this guy’s finger off… exactly. But I definitely wouldn’t have if he kept it to himself. He was crowding my station.”

Stede’s eyes widened, but he didn’t look terribly put off by the confession.

Which was interesting. Ed had been invited to exactly one rich folk party, back when he was becoming a famous name. He was asked about his reputation, and before he knew it he had told more than a few stories about maiming people, mostly by accident. The maiming, not the telling because they had asked. The people he was supposed to sit next to at dinner gave him a wider berth than he expected.

Stede, instead, leaned in.

“I’ve seen my fair share of cooking shows, and seeing the way a professional can handle a knife? Guess I’m not surprised if their careless behavior lands them with having to have a digit sewn back on.”

Silence welled between them then, but it wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable like Ed would have thought it would be, what with not knowing the guy.

His phone rang before either of them could fill it, and Ed pulled the buzzing device from his back pocket and looked at Izzy’s name on the screen.

“What?” He answered it, glancing briefly at Stede who bristled at the less-than-polite greeting. 

Ed smirked just a little.

“You not coming around tonight?” Izzy asked, sounding a bit pissed. Which, really, normal.

“The fuck would I go back for?”

“Oh, the ushe,” Izzy deadpanned.

“Pretty sure Fang and Ivan can go a night without seeing my ugly mug ‘round there. Now, is the restaurant burning down?”

“No,” Izzy replied.

“Good, now piss off,” Ed hung up on him and then set the phone on the coffee table. He leaned back against the sofa, head resting on the back of it as he stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out why the fuck Izzy would call about that. It’s not like he always hung around the boys when they dropped by. 

He heard his phone ping with a few texts, maybe from the boys, maybe from Izzy. Could’ve been one of the employees sending him a picture of Izzy’s sour expression, which had happened a few times in the past.

“Should I leave you alone?” Stede asked, sounding uncertain.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Ed sat up, bracing his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. He scrubbed at his beard a moment before reaching for his phone to see what he’d missed.

Izzy: Don’t be laying around cryin’ over some stupid twat. 

Fang: Whatever you said to Dizzy Izzy must have been good. Fucking prick looks like he ate a bowl of lemons

Fang’s message put a bit of a smirk back on Ed’s face, easing a little of the annoyance Izzy stirred in him.

“Is everything alright, at least? You said you didn’t have a partner waiting, but was there someone waiting?”

“Not really. Old friends of mine from when I was young. Couple of ‘em are still pretty alright, but my mate Izzy? Fucking hell, like the guy’s walking around with a fucking broomstick up his ass and enjoys it a bit too much. 

“I mean, every fucking day. Every fucking day is almost so exactly the same. The week, month, year, it’s all so fucking boring! And Izzy? Fuck, if Izzy could have it his way he would never change it. Tries to get me back into the something I outgrew, ya know? Like I became a square peg and he’s still trying to cram me in a round hole.” 

Ed drained the last of his cola, setting the bottle down a bit harder than he intended before he continued.

“Guy I was talking to, right? Got the same sorta niche interests as me. Got to talking about it, carrying on, getting to know each other. Guess some of what was happening there bled into life because Izzy fucking… has issues, and I won’t get into it.”

“He sounds charming,” Stede deadpanned. “I’d say something about your choice of friends, but I only have a small handful myself. A couple of the blokes I work with, their partners by extension, I suppose. A couple of former regulars to the library.”

“Jim said you worked with their Partner. Oluwande?”

Stede’s whole face lit up at the mention of both names.

“Olu! Yes! Gosh, I adore him. And Jim, of course, though I’m never sure if the sentiment is returned. They’re very quiet, don’t talk much, I find.”

Ed silently agreed.

Stede looked like he was deep in memory as he said, “Olu and Lucius are probably the two I’m closest to, even though they are younger than I am. Despite what I offer, people always sort of treated working for me like a paid internship. Experience so they could move on to what they believed was bigger and better. Maybe it is. Who knows? But Olu and Frenchie, they stuck around. Not because they had nothing better but because they liked it. Lucius, gosh. I remember seeing him come in every night for years looking increasingly frazzled as the school year went on. He’s the reason I had so many psychology and psychiatry textbooks ordered in. Poor bugger was kicked out of his home after he came out, was getting through school on scholarship. Couldn’t afford the texts even second hand.”

“And you got him books?” Ed asked, knowing well that those things weren’t cheap.

“Well, I got them for the library. If only one student came in to use them, that’s neither here nor there,” Stede grinned, a twinkle in his eye. “We housed him over the summers, and he worked for me part-time. Now I’ll go over and have dinner with him and his partner from time to time,  or go out for drinks on Friday nights with him, and a few others. Or, at least I did.”

“Here I thought you’d have had mates from school,” Ed said because Stede was probably the sort that had those.

Instead of the fond, wistful smile Ed was expecting, Stede snorted.

“Hardly,” He replied with venom. “I was the source of much entertainment at the hands of my classmates. I was far from being ‘one of the lads,’ and seeing as grade school was an all-boys school, I hadn’t the option of perhaps befriending the fairer sex. And didn’t do much better in University. Mary was probably the first friend I ever really had, and our relationship was quite strained in the beginning. Trying to navigate living with one another, being married, all while barely knowing one another and knowing there wasn’t going to be the sort of love either of us would have wanted in a marriage wasn’t easy.”

Ed stared at Stede whose mind seemed to wander while he spoke like he was seeing all those earlier years before flash before his eyes.

“It’s getting late,” Stede suddenly said, ducking his head before turning to Ed with a barely-there grin. “I should let you have some time to yourself.”

Ed furrowed his brow, lips curling up a touch.

“It’s your boat,” He reminded Stede, who chuckled mirthlessly.

“Yes, but for how long I wonder? In this strange state of living and not.”

“You didn’t strike me as the pessimistic sort,” Ed commented as Stede got to his feet, straightening the blazer that didn’t really need it.

“Well, given how things turned out for me in life, being optimistic is getting to be a bit tiring.”

Ed watched Stede fade before his eyes. Literally fade away, and it was the most surreal, terrifying thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t know what to say or do after that, so he cleaned up his mess before heading to the bedroom to stretch out more comfortably and maybe watch something for a bit.

~*~

Ed woke up alone the next morning. 

It should have been a good thing, but it left him unsettled. As he went about getting ready to head into work, he fought with himself over whether or not he should Google the guy, and see if something happened overnight. Arguing with himself that he hadn’t really known Stede, so what happened to him really didn’t matter all that much one way or another. But that was a lie, and one Ed couldn’t convince himself of no matter how much he wanted. 

The whole thing lingered in his mind as he rode to work, making Ed realize he’d have to talk it through soon. At least the bits that wouldn’t make him sound fucking insane. He shot a text off to his therapist before heading inside the restaurant through the back, making sure their session was still on for the day. He knew he wouldn’t hear back right away, so Ed pocketed his phone and grumbled a reminder to check it later.

He turned from proping the door open and startled violently upon seeing Izzy already in the restaurant, waiting for him.

“Jesus fucking christ, what the absolute fuck, man?” He cursed as he headed toward his office.

“Wanted to make sure you were coming in sober,” Izzy said as he followed. “The hell is going on with you now?”

“You know, much as you wanna think otherwise, the place is not my whole life,” Ed said over his shoulder before stepping into the office, going through the ritual of changing from leather to chef’s jacket. 

“Not about the restaurant, Edward. A week ago you tried coming in half-pissed. Before you did, you started avoiding us.”

“Not all of you,” Ed grumbled under his voice. “And you weren’t even around, were you? Thought Jim mentioned you were out for a couple days.”

“Still got eyes here when I’m not around,” Izzy retorted as he trailed Ed back to the kitchen. He wisely stayed near the doorway rather than insisting on breathing down Ed’s neck in his workspace. “You bailed on the boys.”

“I had a fucking headache, my knee was killing me, and I was tired,” Ed said over his shoulder as he went about gathering the stuff he needed to make the marinades for the day's meats. “Now kindly fuck off with this mother-henning. Last I checked, I didn’t need someone watching my every fucking move.”

As Ed began to work, chopping herbs and garlic, he could feel Izzy staring at him. He was used to it, Izzy stared a lot when he wasn’t occupied with harping on everyone that worked for them. It was after Ed had the first marinade ready that he sensed Izzy approaching slowly.

He leaned back against the counter opposite Ed’s work station, arms crossed over his chest, the leather waistcoat he insisted on wearing every day as part of his uniform creaking.

“I worry about you,” He said in a hushed voice like someone would overhear despite them being the only ones in the restaurant. “I know what you’re like when you get bored, restless. I worry you’ll do something stupid, and when I don’t know where you are-“

“I haven’t been that way in years. Since before Hornigold.”

“Maybe not in the extremes, no, but you do get a bit… unpredictable.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Ed shot back, a grin curling at his lips despite himself.

He glanced at Izzy and was both completely and unexpectedly surprised at the grin his oldest friend gave him in return.

“I coulda said you go fucking insane, but I thought I’d show my boss a bit of respect.”

“Fuck off,” Ed chuckled, returning his focus to the marinades. “Swear I’m fine, Iz. Know it wasn’t the first time I’ve ever been stood up.”

Izzy scoffed, “you don’t get stood up. People just take a look at you and save you the effort it would take for them to see they’re not worth your time.”

“Is that what happens? Well, fuck, wouldn’t have wanted them anyway,” He plays into the banter, enjoying the comforting familiarity it holds despite it poking his still tender wound.

“Now you’re getting it,” Izzy clapped him on the arm. “You’re too good for just anyone, Edward. Remember that.”

Ed hummed noncommittally, not agreeing one lick but knew better than to try and argue with Izzy when it came to his personal life.

He watched Izzy stalk off out of the corner of his eye, probably heading to his own office just as Roach came in to join Ed in the daily prep.

~*~

There hadn’t been anything in the paper about Stede. With No news being good news and all that, Ed felt himself relax a little. Had John looked at him a little funny for reading the obituaries with great interest? Yeah, probably. And sure, there was still a chance that Stede had died last night, and the family just hadn’t gotten around to publishing it, but Ed didn’t think that would be the case. The dude was from old money, apparently owned a library, and probably helped a lot of people. There would have been something .

It made the rest of Ed’s day a bit more bearable and left him in a semi-decent mood when he clocked out early and headed to his appointment.

Izzy didn’t know he continued seeing the therapist he’d been appointed to after a rather violent outburst a few years back. Or if he did, he didn’t say anything despite having had a rather loud opinion about the whole thing at the start.

But Ed, for reasons he could never explain, liked the his therapist. The guy wasn’t stuffy and highbrow. And though at least a decade younger than Ed - if not more -  the bugger had good advice that actually fucking helped.

So it made it no trouble at all to go from the restaurant to the little office a few miles away, park his bike at the curb, and head for the door to what looked like a brownstone on the outside. He buzzed to be let in, then heard the click of the lock a moment later.

Ed was the only patient in the office when he entered the waiting room, which wasn’t all that uncommon. He could never figure out if it was because the practice was still getting started even after a few years, or because he was always given a block of time when no one else would be around.

He nodded to the skinny blonde receptionist who nodded back with a too-wide smile like he always did. Ed never did get his name, and after a few years was embarrassed to ask, so he basically just thought of him as the Swede.

As was usually the case, before Ed could sit, the door to the session room opened.

“Ed,” Lucius Spriggs greeted him with a grin. “Good to see you, come on back,” He waved him through, his striped button up shirt a loud orange on yellow that had Ed blinking a moment before following.

They settled in, Ed on the far too comfortable couch and Lucius in the chair with the coffee table between them. The box of tissues and a few fidget gizmos sat on the glass surface, nothing else that might cause a distraction. 

“Apologies, again, for missing last week,” Lucius started. “My best friend got in a horrible car accident. We weren’t sure he was gonna make it. Was not in a good place.”

Ed frowned a moment, debating the chances, when he remembered something Stede had said the night before.

“Stede Bonnet,” He said, watching Lucius' eyes go wide.

“Yeah, great deduction. Not a lotta people would make the connection. Hell, you’re the first one.”

“He, uh, mentioned you. Before. Just… didn’t realize it was you.”

“You know him?” Lucius furrowed his brow, perplexed, and Ed felt himself blush a little.

“Not well,” He hedged, “we just sorta got to… anyway, no trouble. Glad to hear he’s not, you know,” Ed gestured about, avoiding the word. “You said ‘know’ not ‘knew’ meaning he’s still…. Right, this is weird. Do I need another therapist now?”

“No, no,” Lucius rushed to wave him off. “Just a weird fluke. We’re fine. Anyway, so how’ve you been? Last time we got to meet, you were going to meet your pirate man. How’d that go.”

“Ah,” Ed said, glancing around the room. “He, umm… he never showed.”

“What?”

“Yeah, waited there for fucking hours. Had a bit of a bender after. Izzy, he said this morning it was because Gent - or anyone - could see they weren’t worth my time and just don’t bother trying. But I mean,” Ed gestured to himself. 

“I take it you haven’t heard from him,” Lucius asked, sitting back in his chair.

“No, total silence. Nothing. Even… look, know it sounds like a fucking stalker, but I tried to see if he was still posting on stuff. Nothing.”

“Huh,” Lucius’s tone was loaded, and Ed cocked his brow at him. “Well,” Lucius said, stilted and off, “it’s… I’m sure… you know what? Maybe something happened, you know? Things come up all the time, and maybe it’s nothing bad, but… Oh, I don’t know, maybe he was overseas for work or… something, and he lost his phone? Or, um… computer? Hasn’t been able to get at it. Point is, maybe we don’t write people off?”

“Maybe,” Ed shrugged, “but I dunno. Hard to want to put myself back out there, trust again, you know? I mean, I was talking to St-“ He stopped, coughed, swallowed, “Steve last night. You don’t know Steve. He’s not someone I mentioned before. Total stranger, and he, umm, well he said something about missing people you haven’t met, and I kinda… well maybe it’s that right now? Anyway, maybe we can not talk about it.”

“Right, yeah, totally fine. Get that. So, you got something on your mind? How’s Izzy, still a wanker?”

Ed scoffed, “So last night, right?” He begins, and Lucius hears him out over Izzy and all the other things he wanted to get off his chest excluding both Stede and the Gent.

By the time his hour is over, he feels marginally better and validated about his decisions regarding space for himself and maybe even about the things they didn’t talk about.

It was those things that lingered in Ed’s head on his drive back to the boat, even when he stopped to grab a few things to throw together a sandwich on the way. There was something Lucius didn’t say - or couldn’t - that nagged at Ed. Something her knew that if he thought about it long enough, stared at it the right way, it would all make sense.

He just didn’t know what it fucking was.

Chapter Text

It had been sunny when Stede woke up alone on the bed, the side Ed slept on unmade. He probably missed the man heading out to work, given the hour, and that was a bit of a shame.

They’d been having such a lovely time the night before, conversing with one another. It was easy, easier than anything Stede experienced in a long time. But then he’d gone and gotten morose, allowing some of the sore spots in his life to bleed through and overwhelm him.

He was closest to Lucius and Oluwande, absolutely. And he and Mary forged a unique but strong friendship over the years. But with all three of them, there had been a bit of an uphill climb. Stede was overbearing, he knew that. He liked to talk about inane or very niche things that most people had little to no interest in. He was odd by anyone’s standards, but in the end, he’d won each of them over.

Lucius’s partner wasn’t particularly fond of Stede, he knew that. Jim was a mystery that even Oluwande didn’t seem to have entirely figured out. His relationship with Doug was awkward though cordial, though he was sure it was hard to think of your girlfriend’s husband as a friend.

With Ed, it was like they’d known each other for years. He had no trouble at all bearing parts of himself he’d tucked away from everyone. Maybe it was because of the non-corporal being he’d become since the accident he was in, but he thought it had more to do with Ed himself. Stede couldn’t say he spoke like that to anyone, even Lucius.

Not wanting to stay below deck while he waited for Ed to eventually - hopefully - return, Stede headed up.

The marina was its usual quiet for what Stede guessed was a weekday. It didn’t really allow for much people watching, but he could hear the gulls overhead, and the sound of the waves, and allow himself to fall into a bit of a meditative space.

He wished he could pull in deep lung-fulls of the salt-ladened air, but this was better than nothing, he supposed.

“Are ye real?” A voice shouted, and Stede snapped out of his thoughts to spy the man he’d seen naked the other day staring at him. “Or are ye a filthy phantom?”

“Umm,” Stede blinked, glancing around and behind him, in case Ed somehow slipped onto the boat without him noticing. He was entirely alone. “Both? Neither? You can see me?”

“Aye,” The man said, gaze narrowing further as a seagull came around and landed on his shoulder. “Karl says you ain’t really there. That others don’t see ye.”

“Umm, Karl?” Stede’s face scrunched quizzically. The man tilted his head toward the gull on his shoulder, quickly glancing at it. “Uh,” Stede said, drumming his hands on the railing, glancing around again and not spying anyone. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Stede. Stede Bonnet.”

“Nathanial,” The man replied with a bow of his head, “but I prefer to go by me surname, Buttons.” 

“Buttons, a pleasure. I haven’t really spoken to anyone since… this,” He said, gesturing to himself. “Well, except Edward, the man who’s been staying here in my absence.”

“Blackbeard, aye,” Buttons replied. “It’s bad luck to have a phantom on a ship.”

“I can’t really go anywhere else, I’m afraid. I’m not really dead, so I can’t cross over, as it were. And I can’t seem to leave this space.”

Buttons didn’t seem to believe that, but he nodded once.

“Board no other ships, or I will hex ye.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Stede replied cheerfully, waving as the strange man turned away, walking back up the part of the pier where Stede’s yacht was docked. It appeared he was having a very deep conversation with the gull on his shoulder. 

When Mr. Buttons had put enough distance between them, Stede darted back down below deck. He glanced around the living area, mind a buzz with possibility and weary hope. Ed had been far more conscientious of mess than he had been their first night, meaning there wasn’t anything around that Stede desperately wanted to attempt to move. So he went for the decanter, hand almost touching it before he withdrew it. 

“What if I can’t touch it?” He asked himself, glancing around the room, aware that if he was corporal in any way he would have heard his heart pounding louder in his ear than he already did. As it was, it felt too far away, separate from himself. 

That awareness had Stede sighing, giving the decanter a half-hearted swipe which resulted as he had expected it would. His hand passed through it, disturbing it not at all.

So, someone aside from Ed could see him. Unless… what if Ed couldn’t see him any longer?

“Fuck,” Stede cursed, glancing at the clock and realizing that he hadn’t paid attention to when Ed came back to the yacht the day before. The sun was still bright and high, or at least it had been when that Buttons fellow had approached him. 

Stede paced around in a circle, lapping the coffee table as he tried to figure out how to calm himself down before he went into a full-blown panic attack. How would it even happen since he wasn’t really physical, he had no idea, but it didn’t seem out of the realm of possibilities. He was, after all, a walking-talking thing born from being in a coma tied to a boat he hadn’t even gotten a proper chance to live on.

After a bit, he ventured down to where the children’s rooms were, deciding to take an exorbitant amount of time inspecting each cabin for anything that could be changed, or what might be out of place - not that he expected to find anything.

He had finished going over Alma’s space and was halfway through Louis’s when he heard the heavy thunk of Ed’s boots.

Stede dashed back to the living area, catching a glimpse of Ed as he headed for the galley. Stede followed, pausing in the doorway and watching Ed unpack groceries.

He glanced up, looked right at Stede, and grinned.

“Missed you this morning,” He said with a hint of a smirk in his tone as he turned away, refocusing on the bag in front of him.

“I’m so glad you can see me,” Stede rushed out, exhaling a breath he hadn’t needed to hold. He wasn’t even sure how he held, or if it was all just mimicry he wasn’t aware he was doing. His not-body still sagged with relief, too, as he leaned against the doorframe and found it supported him. Mostly.

Ed frowned, glancing over at him briefly.

“You thought I wouldn’t?”

“Well, that’s the thing. Someone else saw me. Asked if I was a phantom, and warned that if I tried to board other boats, he’d hex me.”

“Bald-ish guy? Has seagulls about ‘im?” Ed asked as he opened a bag of rolls and ripped one apart with his bare hands. It impressively wound up in nearly even halves. 

Stede hummed in confirmation, watching Ed’s tattooed hands work open a pack of sliced deli meats like it was the most intriguing task anyone ever did. 

“Yeah, heard him mumbling about spirits or some shit when I got here tonight.” Ed looked over at Stede as he started working on opening a pack of sliced cheese. “Your Lucius is my therapist.”

“My Lucius?” Stede asked before the meaning caught up tp him. His mouth fell open in shock before he narrowed his eyes at Ed. “Really?” He said after a beat.

“Yeah, small fucking world,” Ed chuckled. “Didn’t tell him I was talking to you, ‘cause he’d probably have to have me fucking committed or something. But yeah, he canceled on me last week ‘cause of your accident. Which fucking sucked ‘cause I coulda used a therapist to keep me from going on a fucking bender.”

“The man?” Stede hedged, deciding to move further into the galley to watch a chef that crafted the most amazing dishes Stede had ever eaten make a sandwich. A good quality looking sandwich, he realized, but nothing so fanciful as what he created at the restaurant.

“Yep,” Ed grunted. “Fucking supposed to be a gentleman.”

“What makes you say that?” Stede asked, curiosity piqued.

“Was in his name. The Gentleman Pirate,” Ed said, glancing up to meet Stede’s eye.

The words hit Stede like a knife to the gut. 

“What?” He gasped out.

“Yeah,” Ed scoffed. “Like the pirate you share a name with.”

Stede blinked, mind reeling as he tried to remember ever actually agreeing to meet Ed. Because that was him, wasn’t it? The man Stede had believed couldn’t possibly care about his absence because he was just a name on a screen was Ed. He was standing right in front of him, right now, making a bloody ham and swiss sandwich and not even realizing….

“That was me,” Stede managed to get out, softly and so quiet he wasn’t sure Ed had heard him.

Ed continued assembling his sandwich, reaching for the top half of the bun when he suddenly froze.

“What did you say?” He asked gruffly, not looking at Stede but staring at the jar of mustard like it murdered his family.

Stede swallowed, trying to will himself to disappear like he had the night before and finding himself failing spectacularly at it.

“I’m the Gentleman Pirate,” He choked out. “And you… your Blackbeard1718. You are, aren’t you? You have to be, I hadn’t spoken to anyone else. Not like you, never like you. Oh god, you are, aren’t you? And I left you waiting! Oh, Ed, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, truly I-“

“Stede,” Ed snapped, making Stede shut his mouth so fast that he was sure his teeth would have clicked together.

Ed took a breath, slow and deep, then another while shutting his eyes.

“You’re the Gent, then?” He asked though Stede didn’t think he was expecting an answer. It didn’t stop him from nodding, biting his lips to keep from babbling.

Ed didn’t even open his eyes to see the response. He just nodded once before taking the bun top and finishing assembling his sandwich. The way he bowed his head, Stede wasn’t certain he opened his eyes before picking his sandwich up and taking an aggressive bite of it. 

He chewed, jaw moving faster than one would if they were savoring something, swallowing quicker than Stede would have expected.

“Fucking Lucius,” Ed grumbled, shaking his head. He finally turned his gaze back to Stede, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Said not to write people off. Came up with a bullshit reason why the Gent hadn’t met me that night. But he knew, didn’t he? He knew that was you?”

“I told him I had been speaking with a fellow pirate enthusiast online, yes. I don’t know if I ever said our screen names. But…,” he frowned, trying to think, finding everything just out of his ability to recall. “He probably knew where I was going. I mentioned wanting to meet you,” Stede paused, “well, he would want to know all the details. Where we were going, what time we were supposed to meet, when I was supposed to be home.”

Ed took another aggressive bite of his sandwich, holding Stede’s gaze with something far softer than the tense body language he bore.

“I really am sorry,” Stede said after Ed swallowed the next bite.

Which was for the best since Ed burst into hysterical laughter, half doubling over and crushing his meal in his grip.

It lasted nearly a minute, which felt like the longest minute Stede had experienced in a long time. He sighed, nodding, accepting Ed’s amusement for what it likely was: mockery. He finally met Stede, and given how Ed was - tattooed, dark aesthetic, simply gorgeous, really - there was likely some relief that they hadn’t had to suffer through an awkward meeting. Stede wasn’t even sure where it was they were meant to have their first - and likely last - encounter.

When Ed finally managed to catch his breath, he choked out, “you’re sorry you got into a fucking car accident that mighta killed you?” 

“Yes?” Stede frowned. 

This, somehow, threw Ed into another fit that sounded like something between a giggle and breathless laughter.

“Fucking hell, man,” Ed wheezed, barely recovered. “I thought you took one look at me and walked away.”

“Why on Earth would I do that? Have you seen you?” Stede blurted, and then instantly wished the world would open up and swallow him whole. Or, perhaps, he could vanish again. But as was the case earlier, nothing happened. He still found himself on the opposite side of the counter from Ed who was filled with mirth at Stede’s expense.

At least Ed stopped looking like he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Smug was a good look on him, to be sure, but it didn’t make Stede want to hide any less.

“I have,” Ed replied, glancing Stede over without shame. “Your lot, they beg and beg for an audience with the Blackbeard, but the second they see who’s behind the name they tend to be disappointed. If not worse.”

“Well, I’m not disappointed,” Stede said, leaning on the counter. “Not for who you are as either Blackbeard. Though how you feed yourself is a little surprising.”

“This is a damn good sandwich,” Ed retorted, gesturing with the food clasped in his hand despite it looking less than appealing. “Never underestimate a good sandwich. Can be just as good as anything I make at the restaurant.”

“Maybe one day I’ll get to find out for myself,” Stede grinned, watching Ed take another bite. “Have you found out anything more?”

Ed paused mid chew, gaze fixed on Stede. He held it as he continued eating and then didn’t speak right away after he’d swallowed.

“Lucius said they weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

“Oh,” came the reply, automatic. It took Stede a moment to process what that meant, unmoored from his belief - however uncertain - that he was just fine. He really did begin to think that perhaps it wasn’t all that bad, and he just hadn’t had a chance to wake up. That stable condition was really how he was and not what the family was made to put in the papers for the sake of perception.

“You alright, mate?” Ed asked after a bit.

“I really don’t know,” Stede replied.

“Hey,” Ed snapped, and Stede was startled at the turn of his tone. He hadn’t realized his gaze had wandered until it snapped back to Ed in time to see him sigh with relief. “You were fading out on me.”

“Was I?” Stede frowned. So, when he wanted to fade off, he couldn’t. But when he hadn’t any intention of doing so, it happened. How odd. 

“Yeah, you were,” Ed stated before shoving the last of his sandwich in his mouth. Around the bite, he added, “You don’t get to just fuck off mid-conversation.”

“It was terribly rude of me,” Stede conceded. “If I figure out what causes it, I’ll do my best not to.”

“You’d better,” Ed said as he gathered up the stuff from the counter and threw it in the fridge. “I need to stretch out,” he added when the galley was cleared of things, brushing the crumbs from his preparations off the counter into his hand to toss in the bin.

“Did you want company?” Stede asked, unsure if he should follow.

Ed paused in the doorway, eyes narrowed at Stede as if he asked something utterly ridiculous.

“Yes, I fucking want your company. Realize I talk to you, like, every night anyway, don’t you?”

Stede beamed, following Ed out of the galley with a skip in his step.

~*~

“No, no. You can’t tell me that it wasn’t a break-up,” Ed protested hotly, the pair of them having found themselves in a deep discussion over the very thing that brought them together in the first place.

“I can, and I will,” Stede assured. “I still believe that my namesake was just getting them safe passage, and they were supposed to meet once again.”

“And do what? Sail off together? Go to China?”

“Well, why not?” Stede argued, watching Ed smirk behind his whiskey glass. It had him smiling a little himself. 

“You think the pair of them would run off together like that?”

“I do,” Stede retorted, feeling warm and fuzzy in almost a literal way. If he had skin, it would have tingled with delight at having a conversation that would have normally been carried on over messaging happen face to face, if not soul to soul. 

And the spark in Ed’s eyes, the passion for their topic, was truly a sight to behold. Made him that much more gorgeous, and made Stede wish they’d met that much sooner. 

But realistically, he knew why he hadn’t. And if Stede had had plans to meet Ed the night of the accident, that would mean….

“I should be divorced,” He said, probably giving Ed whiplash. 

Ed did jerk back, nearly spilling his drink and looking at Stede in confusion.

“What?”

“I should be divorced,” Stede repeated. “It was my personal stipulation for meeting you. I wouldn’t broach the subject, or confirm my desire to if you should have brought it up. Not until I was divorced, lest someone who might see me try and claim I’d been unfaithful to Mary.”

“Would that have caused a problem?” Ed asked, sitting up from his reclined position on the sofa.

“For her more than me,” Stede sighed. “I’m not in the closet, per se, but I’m not really out, either. I couldn’t be if we’re playing the happy couple. So if someone were to see me out with you - especially someone from the Allamby circle - there would be talk. Talk would inevitably lead to defense, and then someone from my family - my mother, really - would start digging into what Mary was up to. And, possibly, so would her own parents to try and prove that she’d been a good wife should anything come to light.”

“Huh,” Ed frowned.

Stede hummed, nodding slowly. “She was having an affair. Had been for a while, actually.”

“And you knew?”

“Doug is lovely,” Stede said by way of answering. “I was so very happy for her. And jealous, if only because I hadn’t ever gotten to experience what that was like. Being in love.”

Ed’s demeanor softened, gazing at Stede in a way Stede was sure he’d never been looked at before in his life. 

Ed was leaning further forward, twisting to set his glass down on the coffee table when he was interrupted by the thunk of boots above deck. 

Stede looked at the ceiling, frowning at the unfamiliar step.

“Are you expecting someone?” He asked.

“No,” Ed replied, getting to his feet and reaching into his pocket. He pulled something out. In a flash, the object in Ed’s hand became a terribly long blade.

“You have a switch blade?” He demanded, earning a glare and a silent shushing from Ed. “No one can hear me but you, you nut!”

Ed scrunched his face in frustration as the steps came closer to the stairs.

“Edward!” A familiar yet unplaceable voice called down.

Stede frowned further even though Ed relaxed, clearly having recognized the person calling for him.

“Below deck, Iz,” He shouted, closing the blade and repocketing it.

“Why do you have a switch blade?” Stede asked as the aforementioned Iz’s feet clomped down the stairs.

“Self defense,” Ed mumbled quietly like it was obvious. 

A beat later, a short, graying man who Stede absolutely did recognize appeared in his living room area, looking around the room like thewhole place reeked of skunk.

He was the manager of the restaurant, one Stede had had words with more than once in the past. 

The first was when he was out with Oluwande and Pete, waiting for Lucius to finish work to join them for dinner. The manager had been trying to get the lady at the next table over to leave for reasons Stede had never really figured out. She’d been waiting for someone if the way she checked her watch repeatedly was anything to go by, and understandably had yet to order. When Stede heard the man snarl at her to order something or get the hell out, Stede stepped in. 

“How about a glass of whatever wine the lady wants, and you can kindly put it on my tab. And anything further she would like before she’s ready to leave. Would that be satisfactory to you?” Stede had said with a polite but strained smile. The man sneered and stormed off. As the lady protested, and Stede assured he had no motives aside from getting the manager off her back, her date arrived. Stede had left the table as said date apologized profusely for being late, and that was that.

The second time he’d been on his own, sitting at the bar. 

He’d been ranting about someone to a pair of really disinterested blokes. They nodded and smiled politely, but Stede had noticed they exchanged weighted, knowing glances with one another when the manager wasn’t looking. By the third instance of this he caught, this one with an eye roll, Stede snickered allowed.

“What’s so funny?” The manager wheeled on him, and Stede glanced up at him.

“Well, I read something funny on my phone,” He gestured with the device. 

“The phone that’s off,” The man said aggressively, tilting his chin to the black screen.

Stede glanced at it, “well it turned off while we were speaking.”

“Was never on to begin with.”

“Can you speak to me like this?”

“I’m the manager.”

“But not the owner.”

That had the manager clench his jaw, nostrils flaring.

“Sure my boss would love to have a word with you.”

“Well, if he’s anything like you, he can go suck eggs in hell,” Stede calmly shot back, and one of the men from earlier snorted and turned it into a cough when the manager spun to look at him.

The man hadn’t had a chance to tattle on Stede to the owner, and instead got pulled into another matter entirely, leaving Stede to enjoy the rest of his drink and nibble before he eventually had to leave.

Knowing what he did now, the manager’s plan probably would have backfired spectacularly. Still, hard to believe this was someone Ed was friendly with.

“Ugh, it’s you,” Stede said disdainfully, getting a quick glance from Ed before Ed turned to the asshole.

“What are you doing here, Izzy?” Ed asked as he made his way back to the sofa.

“Wondering what the fuck you’ve been getting up to that you ain’t coming by to spend time with the boys. Three nights going, now. Startling to look a lot like it did last week before you snapped out of it.”

“I have a life away from the restaurant?” Edward replied like it was the obvious answer, but something about Izzy’s demeanor said it wasn’t.

 “Not sure what you’ve got going on here is a life,” Izzy sneered at the seashell clock. “You should have just stayed with me.”

“Wasn’t going to spend the next month or so camped out on your couch,” Ed argued. It didn’t sound like this was the first time, either, which had Stede more than a little curious about where this was going.

He inched around to sit down on the couch on the opposite end from where Ed was, opting not to take the chair as it was likely Izzy would choose it should he make to stay awhile. Ed’s leg was already spread over most of the sofa, only really giving Stede enough space to squeeze in.

Subtly, as if trying not to make the movement seem obvious, Edward stretched his leg toward Stede. 

The resulting contact had them both startling, though Stede outright yelped, where Ed’s eyes only got wide a moment.

Izzy clocked the movement, disdain for Stede’s yacht shifting quickly to concern.

“Your leg that bad?” He asked Ed.

“Meh,” Ed shrugged. “Twinged funny, that’s all,” He lied smoothly. “And that’s with space to stretch, which your little leather piece of shit does not.”

“I never said you’d be sleeping on my couch,” Izzy said with a straight face as he sunk into the chair Stede had expected him to take. Close to Ed with just enough distance to not crowd, the same spot Stede had sat the night before. “You can’t keep hiding out.”

“Not hiding,” Ed argued. “I had an appointment, I didn’t want to go back to the restaurant.”

“Gettin’ fucking tired of the excuses,” Izzy retorted, but it didn’t have a lot of bite to it.

Something dark in the pit of Stede’s stomach got twisted up as he watched them stare each other down. The familiarity between them spoke more than simply a boss and his employee being on friendly terms. History that Stede had no knowledge of, and couldn’t hope to compete with.

“Go on,” He said softly even though Izzy wouldn’t hear him. “If it’s been a while you should go. I’ll still be here when you get back.”

He hoped. 

But Ed sighed and nodded, “Yeah, fine, I’ll go.”

“Good, get your shit together,” Izzy said as he practically leaped from the chair. He started heading up the stairs, and Ed followed, glancing back at Stede.

He waved, hoping that he didn’t look too let down that he was right back to being alone on the boat he couldn’t leave.

Chapter Text

Ed would never, ever admit it, but Izzy was right. He had been missing out on time with the boys, and being with him, Ivan, and Fang out once again felt good. Great, even. Maybe better than it had in ages.

He laughed more readily, smiled wider, and nursed the beer he’d ordered when they first arrived instead of downing them one after another. 

They hadn’t gone to the restaurant, Izzy probably understanding that Ed at least wanted a bit of a change from the everyday. Instead, he drove them to Spanish Jackie’s, a dive that had been their second home in their youth and wasn’t busy even on days it should be.

Old, run-down, often with things held together with little more than duct tape and hope, it hadn’t changed a lick in twenty-plus years. But just being there instead of at his own bar where his employees could see him made all the difference.

At least, that was part of it.

“Look at you,” Ivan said, four drinks in and looking a little flushed. “This is the most open and available I’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Gettin’ over the bloke from a week or so back?” Fang added knowingly.

Ed snickered, “Not really, but….”

But what? What did he even say? Not really because I’m living on his boat and talking to him? 

“But… you met someone else? Someone better?” Ivan guessed with a wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Izzy whipped his head around to stare at Ed, but Ed merely shook his.

“Nothing like that,” He assured. “Just in a better place is all. Suppose you could say my ceiling cavin’ in on me was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Not a lie. After all, had it not, he wouldn’t be on Stede’s boat, and he wouldn’t have found out what happened.

“You actually like staying on that ridiculous yacht?” Izzy asked incredulously.

Ed shrugged, “what’s not to like? Got the gentle rocking of the waves puttin’ ya to sleep every night. Spacious. Private, oddly. And if I feel like getting away on the weekend, I don’t have to leave home to do it.”

“Thought you couldn’t leave the marina?” Fang frowned.

“Can’t leave the harbor,” Ed corrected. “And the harbor’s still ‘away,’ ain’t it? Can’t exactly have someone pop up on deck and tromp down to drag you away in the middle of the harbor,” he said the last bit with a side-eye at Izzy and a little smirk.

Izzy rolled his eyes, but Ed could tell he was pleased with himself, even if he would never admit it. 

“You should see it,” Izzy said to Fang with derision. “Fucking perverse use of space, is what it is. Nice structure, has potential. But the thing is fucking decorated with all this tacky nautical shit.”

“Ah, you mean like my very popular restaurant?” Ed asked, arching a brow at his oldest friend who rolled his eyes.

“Big difference between old ship wheels or reclaimed deck planks and a fucking seashell clock and wallpaper with anchors on it.”

“Technically, it’s a border, not a wallpaper,” Ed shrugged before taking a tiny swig of his beer. “Still, I’ve enjoyed it. Might get a houseboat when the lease with the condo’s up.”

“Really? Pet friendly, your building?” Fang asked, kickstarting a new direction of conversation.

Ed wouldn’t have been able to say much of what they talked about after that simply because the topics hopped around in a way they hadn’t since they were really young.

The only issue was there was always something about what they were shooting the shit about that brought Stede to mind. Anecdotes from their online conversations, or their more recent chats. Ed would open his mouth, a bit about Stede sitting on his tongue, and then stop because how in the hell could he explain their relationship? But thoughts of Stede still had him grinning a little, no matter how hard he tried not to. Something that the boys caught on to after a while.

“You got someone else already, haven’t you?” Ivan asked.

“It’s alright to move on,” Fang assured.

“I haven’t got someone else,” Ed assured as they finished the last dredges of their drinks.

“Fuck, don’t tell me Jack is back in the picture,” Ivan said as they stood up.

“He’s not,” Ed assured as he put on his jacket. “Fuck, I haven’t seen Jack in ages.”

“Yeah, keep it that way,” Izzy bit out. “He’s no good for you.”

“He saved my life once,” Ed protested as they slowly headed for the door, waving to the barkeep as they passed.

“He fucking did not,” Izzy half-yelled. “You were just too drunk to realize that the only thing that woulda hit you if you’d crossed on that red light was a strong breeze. Fucking idiot thought a fucking firefly was a speeding headlight.”

Ed shrugged because he didn’t remember what happened that night, he’d been too drunk. He only vaguely recalls the incident, and that he might have swooned and made an ass of himself over Jack. Jack, who left Ed for a woman not a week later but failed to mention it for about a month until said woman showed up at Jack’s house when he and Ed were in a terribly compromising position.

“Fireflies, huh? I’ll watch out for ‘em on the walk home,” Ivan smirked as they stepped outside. “See you tomorrow?”

“I dunno. Day off, got shit to do,” Ed replied. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t going to take him the whole day to run his errands. It would, however, be the first time he’d get to spend more than a few exhaustion-filled hours with Stede.

“See you around?” Fang questioned, hand extended toward Ed.

He clasped it, pulling Fang in for a slap on the back half-hug as he said, “see you around.” 

He and Ivan exchanged the same farewell, then Ivan and Fang took off toward their places, both located on the same street far closer to Spanish Jackie’s than Ed’s establishment.

Ed and Izzy watched them for a beat before Izzy clapped Ed on the arm and turned to his car.

“Come on. My place is closer.”

“Izzy, we’ve been over this,” Ed said as he got in the car in sync with Izzy. Closing the door in time with him, Ed held off reaching for the seatbelt even as Izzy started doing up his. “Your couch can barely fit you.”

“Never said you’d be sleeping on the couch,” Izzy repeated his earlier bit from back on the boat, turning to bore his gaze into Ed’s.

“Where would you be?” Ed challenged, already guessing at the answer.

“Bed’s big enough for two.”

“You and me sharing?”

“Done it before.”

“When we were kids, yeah. Lots changed since then.”

“Yeah, it has,” Izzy nodded once. “But some things haven’t.”

Ed’s soul cringed at the reminder, never wanting to look too closely at Izzy’s loyalty to see what drove it. He didn’t think Izzy would be bold enough to try something if they were to share a bed, but there was a reason Ed had never tried to tempt fate in the last twenties years by caving into Izzy’s numerous offers to stay at his place.

“If you don’t take me back to the marina,” Ed said evenly, “I will call a fucking Uber and get there myself.”

“Coulda just said no,” Izzy grumbled as he started the car. 

“Thought I would make myself fucking clear,” Ed bit back.

“Put your fucking seatbelt on,” Izzy said as he checked his mirrors. “Get yourself fucking killed that way.”

“Or near there,” Ed said to himself as he did as he was told.

Izzy, thankfully, turned toward the marina instead of his place.

~S~

Stede hadn’t expected Ed back that night. He resigned himself to either sitting alone below deck, bored and debating if he should do whatever disappearing from the boat after hours. So when he heard the clomp of boots well before midnight, he half expected to see an intruder coming to loot his home with no way to stop them.

Ed’s groan could be heard before Stede could even see him.

“Fucking hell,” he grumbled as he appeared at the bottom of the stairs, pausing to look at Stede with a half-hearted grin. “Hopefully, that’ll make him happy enough to leave me be for a while.”

“How are you friends with him?” Stede asked in spite of himself. “He’s a complete asshole.”

“He is, but he’s been with me for an age. Hard to let him go,” Ed shrugged. “Even if it would probably be for the best if I did.”

Stede frowned curiously but didn’t ask what Ed meant. Ed’s past was his business, and he wasn’t about to poke around what might be a beehive when he had no interest in disrupting it.

“I don’t go in tomorrow,” Ed said as he pushed off toward the bedroom. “Still have some shit to do around town, though, so I won’t be here all day.”

“That’s fine,” Stede shrugged. “I’d been here off and on for a week before you showed up, and you’ve been going off to work the last couple days.”

“What the hell do you do here all day?” Ed wondered as Stede followed him into the bedroom.

“Honestly? Nothing. Nothing I can do but think and stare off into space.”

“You got a stereo here. I can set up some music or some shit.”

“We’ll see,” Stede said as he watched Ed gather his night things. “I should let you rest.”

“Will you be around in the morning?” Ed asked archly like Stede had any control over when he popped up.

“One can hope,” He smiled. 

Ed grinned back, shoulders twitching like he’d given a silent “ha” to that, and then headed for the bathroom to change.

When the door was closed, Stede lay on the bed, closed his eyes, and hoped for morning to come.

~*~

Stede came to feeling off. 

That in itself was a bit disconcerting because he still felt detached from himself. Yet, he felt almost like he might have a touch of physical form. It was kind of like he had a third arm that he might be able to control if he tried, but it wasn’t positioned in a way that would feel natural.

He also felt warm in a way he couldn’t explain. Not like he was overheated, it wasn’t a strictly physical thing. It actually reminded him of the way his chest burst with affection when his children were born, but also a touch more intimate. 

He was on the bed, the golden sunlight was coming in through the window, and there was a gentle snore in his ear.

Stede looked to his left and saw Ed sprawled next to him close enough that Stede could imagine feeling Ed’s body heat against his side. Ed’s left arm was stretched out in such a way that had Stede been corporal, it probably would have been draped over his chest.

It was a pleasant thought, that Ed might have been reaching for Stede in his sleep. But Stede didn’t know if he was actually there the whole night or not, so this could just be how Ed slept. And given that they hadn’t discussed the foot through the leg on the sofa, Stede couldn’t be sure what it felt like on Ed’s end. It could be uncomfortable, or even painful. So, Stede opted to sit up, breaking the contact between them.

It was enough to stir Ed.

Ed sleepily pushed his wild mane of hair from his face, beard partly scrunched beneath his chin. His eyes when they opened were adorably heavy, and the way his lips pouted made him look terribly disarming. To see him like this, one wouldn’t think Ed was the fearsome Blackbeard, a man who had a well-known temper in his kitchen, who was rumored to have done all sorts of criminal activities, and who Stede knew for certain carried a blade for self defense. 

He couldn’t help but grin, watching Ed blink into awareness.

“Morning,” Ed mumbled before face-planting back into the pillow, curling his arms under it.

“Good morning,” Stede grinned. “Sleep well?”

“Like the fucking dead,” Ed said into the pillow, tensing. “Or, you know, something like that.”

“Well, I’m not dead. At least I don’t think I am,” Stede amended, glancing about the room. “I wonder if I’d be able to tell?”

“Google you when I wake up more,” Ed said as he rolled himself over onto his back. He stared at the ceiling as he sighed. “Fuck, I love my day off.”

“You’re the boss. You could give yourself more of them,” Stede reminded, eyes traveling absently down the length of Ed’s torso. It took him a moment to realize that Ed wasn’t wearing a shirt and that Stede was staring at the great many tattoos that covered Ed’s body. “Good lord, is there anywhere you aren’t tattooed?” He asked without thinking/

“My dick,” Ed replied without hesitation, and Stede knew he’d be blushing if it were possible. “Don’t have any on my ass, either. Both places… bit much, you know? People do it, wasn’t for me, though. Only got one on my leg. Right one,” he said with a tilt of his head toward it. “Swelled up, was a pain in the ass to stand on, so didn’t bother again ‘cause I can’t be limping around the fucking kitchen. Might not hurt much getting them, but the aftermath for that one was killer.”

“Huh,” was all Stede could manage to say to that.

“You’re the fucking boss, too. Do you give yourself much time off?” Ed jumped back to the previous topic.

“Fair point, I don’t,” Stede replied with a nod. “But my job isn’t really all that stressful. I like order, having everything in its spot. I like books and introducing people to them. I like helping people where I can, and being a place of support.”

“Like my job, love the stress. It’s the right kind of stress,” Ed replied as he tucked his hands under his head. “I like working with my hands. I like fucking around with ingredients and seeing what I can come up with. Genuinely don’t know where I’d be without the restaurant. So, you know, time off… never had a reason to take it, either.”

“Suppose I can understand that. But today is a day of leisure, so what will you do?”

Ed shrugged. “Groceries. Farmer’s market, probably, cause I like getting the local shit where I can.”

“Love the farmer’s market,” Stede sighed dreamily. “There’s this one lady who sells the best marmalade. I had a small supply of it here before, but I imagine Mary probably emptied the pantry before you took over.”

“Yeah, no marmalade here,” Ed replied. “Fuck I’m starving, should probably get something to eat.”

He launched himself out of bed, and Stede followed him to the galley.

Ed’s dinners after a long day at the restaurant weren’t anything to write home about, but breakfast? Stede hadn’t really missed food until he watched Ed whip up the most heavenly-looking pancakes he’d ever laid eyes on. Coconut was mixed into the batter and the whole thing was topped with mango and some sort of cream cheese thing that Ed mixed up seemingly mindlessly.

“Why do you not serve breakfast at the restaurant?” Stede asked as Ed plated his meal and sat at the counter. Stede watched him with rapture. “I’d order that in a second.”

“Well, maybe when you’re no longer a not-ghost, I’ll cook for you. Privately,” he added with a wink before stuffing a bite in his mouth and quietly groaning in contentment. 

The spike of jealousy Stede felt could be blamed on both Ed and the food: the former for being able to eat it and the latter for it bringing Ed such pleasure.

“Sounds like an intimate invitation,” Stede said as he kept his eye on the food. He did not need to watch Ed’s face while he made noises like that. 

“I mean, we were supposed to have gone on a date, weren’t we?” Ed asked between bites. Around the next one, he added, “seems like we woulda got on well.”

“Was it a date?” Stede asked, snapping out of his staring contest with Ed’s pancakes. 

Ed shrugged, “I thought it was.”

“Oh,” Stede blinked. “I… well, I don’t know what we said to each other, so I mean… maybe I thought it was, too? But if I’m honest, much as I would have liked that, I don’t know if I would have thought you’d ever consider it.”

“Suppose we would have cleared it up,” Ed seemed nonplussed about it, so Stede didn’t get too wound up over the possible misunderstanding. “But I would’ve asked for a real one. Assuming you would agree.”

“I would have,” Stede said without missing a beat. “I wouldn’t likely have been ready that night - it’s been over a decade since I’ve dated anyone - but I genuinely can’t see an instance where I wouldn’t have wanted to have a date with you.”

Ed smirked. “Could today. Sorta.”

“I can’t leave the boat,” Stede reminded sadly.

Ed frowned a moment in thought.

“Is it that you can’t leave the boat? Or that you’re attached to the boat?” Ed asked, pointing his fork at Stede a moment. “If I were to take a knickknack or something, put it in my pocket, would you be able to follow me?”

“Mary took my things,” Stede reasoned, but Ed shook his head.

“Were they from the boat specifically, though?”

“Well… no,” Stede conceded. “But would it make a difference?”

“Maybe, I dunno. If you’re, like, attached to the boat, stands to reason that as long as there’s a piece of it with me, you can follow. So we take something, and see if you’re tethered to it,” Ed reasoned like it was the most obvious answer to all Stede’s issues. “What’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“I lose a few hours and wake up on the bed.”

“Nothing that doesn’t happen when you fall asleep anyway,” Ed tossed his arms out to the side, a wild excitement in his eyes. “We’re doing it. I eat, get a shower, and we give this shit a shot.”

~*~

Stede was filled with nervous excitement as he and Ed went above deck. Inside Ed’s jacket pocket was a small but heavy brass whale Stede adored and had to have for the yacht. It was technically a paperweight, but he didn’t really use it as such. It was also one of the few things that couldn’t be argued to have been bought for use anywhere else and something Ed couldn’t have possibly lost without noticing. 

Ed headed for the gangplank and walked down it with a swagger that exuded confidence, and Stede? Stede was terrified he’d wake up back on the bed hours later should he try and take a step.

Ed paused on the dock for him, glancing around before beckoning Stede down.

And he wanted to, desperately. Not just because it would mean that he would finally leave the yacht, but because he’d get to be out with Ed. Ed, who Stede suspected dressed up for the occasion even though no one would see them together. He had dark blue jeans without a single scuff or tear on their well-tailored form. Under his leather motorcycle jacket was a deep purple t-shirt that also clung to Ed like it had been made specifically for him. 

This was meant to be a date, Stede supposed. Even if it wasn’t a traditional one where he could hold Ed’s hand, share nibbles, and maybe even share a kiss at the end of the day.

Still, it was a date. And Stede wanted a date with Ed as much as he wanted to get off the yacht and see the world again.

With a deep breath that had no physical effect on him whatsoever, he stepped on the gangplank.

Nothing happened.

He took another step. Then another, continuing down until he was standing on the dock next to Ed. 

“It worked!” Stede crowed, resisting the urge to jump about. Ed might be the only one able to see him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to make a fool of himself in front of the man.

“You sure? It’s only the dock. Boat’s right there,” Ed said lowly enough, lips barely moving so anyone walking by would think he was…. Well, Stede didn’t know, actually. Staring at the boat? 

“I literally couldn’t leave it. Not at all,” Stede excitedly said, clasping his hands together. “I still can’t smell anything or feel if there’s a breeze, but I’m here.”

“Well, we aren’t staying on the dock. Come on,” Ed grinned, gesturing with his head for Stede to follow.

And he did, practically skipping alongside Ed as they made their way toward the parking lot. 

Ed made his way to his bike, a familiar vehicle now that Stede knew Ed was Blackbeard1718. He’d sent a photo of it once, the sleek machine which Stede had thought was black and chrome but could now see was an incredibly dark purple. 

“Must say, it’s been an age since I’ve ridden on one,” Stede said as Ed got his helmet out from underneath the seat.

“You’ve ridden?”

“Not by myself,” Stede quickly clarified. “I had a… well, there was a… I had a ‘friend’ who rode. And, well, he would take me places.”

“I bet he did,” Ed smirked before swinging his leg over and straddling. “Not gonna be the same for you, no wind in your hair. Don’t even need to hold on.”

“Probably will anyway. Although I’m not even sure if I can get on,” Stede nervously eyed the seat. 

He could sit and lay down and all that on the yacht, but the thing that was allowing him to leave it was in Ed’s jacket pocket. What if he couldn’t properly sit in the saddle and was left being pulled along behind Ed, standing upright? It would be weird, even if no one else could see him.

Tentatively, Stede moved his leg over the bike and settled in behind Ed. He didn’t really feel a sensation when he sat, he couldn’t feel the thing his bum was resting on beneath him. But there was a knowledge that he was doing it, preventing him from falling through it to the ground below.

He lifted his feet, tentatively resting them on the foot rest, and while it didn’t feel the same as anything on the yacht, he was at least please he could interact with the bike. Stede sighed with relief as he settled further, putting his hands on Ed’s waist.

“Not complaining, and not asking you not to. But do you need to hold on?” Ed asked before starting the bike.

“Probably not, but if I don’t, I’ll probably panic,” Stede confessed. “Shall we?”

Ed revved the engine twice, then took off.

There was no wind against his face or through his hair, as was expected. But there was still a thrill that thrummed through Stede as they zipped through the streets, weaving through vehicles. He couldn’t help but notice that Ed took a less direct route, avoiding Main Street from first through Sixth Avenue. Maybe he knew something about the traffic there that Stede didn’t. He wasn’t about to backseat drive.

The market was held inside one of the city parks that sported a large, pedestrian mall that many tried to boast was better than the one in Central Park in New York. Stede had been, found both to be pretty much the same, but nodded politely whenever someone brought it up as a point of community pride. Which wasn’t often, but enough of an occurrence among the elite that he had to form an opinion.

Ed managed to find a space just big enough for his bike along the sidewalk outside the park entrance. After cutting the engine and kicking out the stand, Ed climbed off and removed his helmet.

Stede dismounted as well, though with significantly less groaning.

“Knee doesn’t always like it,” Ed mumbled as he shook his hair out. 

“Suppose you could switch to a car, but what would be the fun in that?” Stede commented as Ed opened the seat and tucked his helmet inside. He glanced at Stede with a smirk and a glimmer of mischief in his eye that spoke of countless thoughts unsaid.

If Stede hadn’t already thought himself half in love with Ed when he was just Blackbeard1718, he’d probably be an absolute mess of a human at the moment. Or, at least a mess of a spirit or whatever.

Ed reached in his saddle bag and pulled out a couple of simple canvas bags. After he had them looped over his shoulder he quietly said. “Come on, show me where this fucking brilliant marmalade is?”

~E~

Ed hadn’t thought this through.

Something about knowing that Stede was the Gent made him a bit stupid. Maybe if Izzy hadn’t pulled him away so shortly after figuring it out, he could have satiated his desire to spend time with him. Or, at least, get enough of a hit to last him so he’d be able to get through the couple hours it would take him to do the farmer’s market.

Instead, Ed had the genius idea of bringing along a man no one else could see, on a date where there would be less touching than a catholic school dance. And if he tried to talk to Stede in any meaningful way he’d be seen as a lunatic because it would look like he was talking to himself. 

Which, again, might have been circumvented if he thought things through just a little bit and brought earbuds to make it look like he was on the phone with someone.

But all that aside, he hadn’t even considered Stede’s comfort. What it would be like to be among people who wouldn’t know he was there. Though, Ed supposed, Stede could take at least a bit of the blame there. He clearly hadn’t thought of that, either.

“It’s disconcerting,” Stede confessed after the eighth person walked through him. “But tolerable, considering I was sure I’d never seen anything but the yacht again. Oh! She’s just down that way.”

Stede made to grab Ed’s wrist, but of course, it passed through, tingling a little in that strange and pleasant way it had the night before.

“Ah, sorry,” Stede winced. “Can’t feel pleasant.”

Ed shrugged, giving Stede a little smirk and making the older lady who was apparently behind Stede move further away from them. 

“Umm, follow me?” Stede hedged, doing a triple take at the older lady before beckoning Ed to follow.

Stede led him to the most country-esque looking booth in the whole of the market. While so many others had fold-down tables and a little canopy tent (some customized with the business name), this was much more rustic. A plank of wood that had been sanded and sealed rested across two stakes of large crates. The truck parked behind them had the doors that opened on the side, allowing the pair running the booth shelter from the elements as they grabbed things to resupply. The shelter was made of what Ed guessed to be repurposed pallets, stained to match the crates and covered in a tarp to close the gaps between the planks. They were propped up by two fold-down posts, and a good chunk of the end pallet resting over the truck.

“Not afraid that’ll fall on you, are you?” Ed asked as he eyed that part apprehensively. 

“Not at all,” the woman waved him off. “What can I help you with?”

“My friend here - heard -  um, from another of our friends that you have the best marmalade in the city.”

The woman’s polite smile turned a little sad, but she nodded. 

“I certainly like to think so. Hadn’t mentioned the flavor, had he?” She asked, and Ed blinked.

“Flavor?” He asked, only looking down at the selection just then.

“I can never decide,” Stede said as he hovered over Ed’s shoulder. “Traditional Orange is good, of course. But grapefruit is also something wonderful. Oh, and the lemon!” 

There were all those, as well as quite a few others mixed with other fruits or spices.

“Would you like to sample some?” The woman asked with a mischievous grin.

“Oh, say yes,” Stede encouraged.

“Yeah, sure,” Ed shrugged as casually as possible, only glancing a Stede when the woman was occupied scooping a bit of the orange onto a cracker.

Ed took it with a quick “cheers,” then popped the whole thing in his mouth. He groaned. “That is some damn good marmalade,” He told her.

“It’s the best,” Stede agreed. “And again, I’m envious of you.”

“What should I try next then?” Ed asked Stede, glancing at him.

“The lemon ginger,” Stede said as the lady shrugged and said, “whatever one you want.”

Blushing a bit, Ed pointed to Stede’s suggestion.

He wasn’t supposed to be working, but when he tasted the marmalade his chef’s brain kicked in. He had at least two different ideas for a chicken dish that he suddenly wanted to try with this as part of it.

“How many jars of this you got?” He asked her, pointing to the one on display.

“Umm,” She glanced at the truck, “About a crate of twenty, I think?”

“I want all of them,” Ed said, ignoring the choking noise Stede said as he withdrew his wallet. He handed the wide-eyed vendor his business card. “Hold on to it for me and bring it by the restaurant if you can, and if not I’ll have someone come from the restaurant to pick it up before you close up today.”

“Umm,” She said, blinking down at the card.

“Oh, and I’ll, uh, just take a couple jars of the other stuff. Personal use.”

“Right,” She said.

“Probably should tell her you’d put their name in the menu,” Stede suggested when she hadn’t moved to do anything.

“You gotta card I can have so when I do up the specials with this stuff, I can get your name right?” Ed asked, glancing at Stede who nodded and gave him a thumbs up.

That snapped her out of her daze. “Of course! Dave, get a card, and maybe staple this on the crate of lemon ginger.”

~*~

After the jam and marmalade people, Ed continued through the market, listening to Stede’s running commentary. It was nice, actually. Nothing Stede said or pointed out was really mundane, even if it wasn’t exciting. He had a way of bringing a bit of magic to the everyday that felt effortless. Like nothing at all could be boring so long as Stede was involved.

And Stede hadn’t just rambled through the day. He convinced Ed to go to a couple of artisan soap places to get a whiff of some of his favorites, which led to Ed buying a couple of things. He also was able to scout out some of the best produce before Ed got to the area. Something about Stede’s presence had people hesitate in an area long enough that Ed could start to make his way over and get his pick of what they did.

It had been fun. The only thing that would have made it better was if Stede had been flesh and blood. 

“You must be dreadfully tired of hearing me talk,” Stede said when they were back on the yacht, Ed putting away his produce and the marmalade in the galley.

“Nah, mate. Not always one for chatting, so it’s kinda nice. I liked hearing what you had to say. Even the bit about the bitch who nagged about the bananas. If she really didn’t like the shit they had, she coulda gone and found a tree. Try and climb that shit herself.”

Stede smirked, glancing off as if recalling the moment. She hadn’t heard him, of course, but Ed’s snicker had had her going off in a huff.

Ed was, admittedly, a bit too entranced with Stede’s diabolical grin that should not be as attractive as it was, and hadn’t been paying attention to where his arms were. Therefore, as Ed set bananas on the counter, bumped the marmalade off of it.

He started to reach for it, but his knee gave a twinge at that moment, throwing him off enough that he knew he’d never catch it. Stede, though,  seemed to react out of reflex, reaching down as well despite not having a physical form to catch the jar with.

In the process, Stede’s hand passed through Ed’s, and that tingling warmth flooded Ed’s hand and arm. Except it didn’t stop there, and that tingling warmth became a shuddering pleasure while simultaneously making Ed lose the motor function of the appendage. Where he would have stopped short because of his knee, his arm kept moving with Stede’s action.

The marmalade landed in Ed’s palm, catching it awkwardly as it almost felt like his hand was on the wrong way around. The feeling lasted until Stede pulled back, jaw dropped, eyes wide.

“Sorry. So sorry. Not entirely sure how I did that.”

Ed looked at his hand as he set the jar down on the countertop. It felt fine, like nothing happened. He brought it his face, flexing his fingers and turning about as he could find some linger evidence that Stede had done what he did.

“Do you think it would happen if we just,” He asked Stede, gesturing between them and hoping he got the idea.

“Umm,” Stede swallowed, looking at the hand he’d possessed. “I, uh.”

“Look, I get it,” Ed said, barely keeping a straight face, “Penetration on the first date-“

Stede cut Ed off with a laugh, loud and hard like it was punched out of him in the best way.

“Yes, I usually don’t find myself becoming one with a man this soon.”

“Could be, uh, beneficial if you get my drift,” Ed managed without blushing, quite pleased with himself when Stede did.

“You want me to take control of your body so you can-“

“No, just…. Well, I mean if you’re offering.”

“Edward!” He chastised, making Ed chuckle. “You know, I don’t even know your last name? You never told me.”

Ed tilted his head, humming thoughtfully. 

“I didn’t, did I?” He realized, and Stede nodded. “Well, you share a name with the Gentleman Pirate. I share one with the original Blackbeard.”

Stede’s eyes went wide, a gleeful grin stretching his mouth. “You’re pulling my leg.”

“Nope,” Ed promised with a single shake of his head. “Edward Teach, born on a beach. Or, near enough to one. Anyway, forget that, not important. What is important is that you get inside of me. Right now.”

“You’re doing this on purpose now, aren’t you?” Stede smirked.

“Fucking right, I am. Come on, Stede,” He said as he spread his arms wide. “Run me through, or whatever the fuck it is that happens.”

Stede seemed to war with himself a moment before relenting with a sigh and stepping into Ed’s personal space.

He paused, hesitating, reaching out and flinching back before he started to put his hand through Ed’s chest. 

It was like sinking into a warm bath filled with bath salts and losing all ability to move. Stede taking over Ed’s entire body was both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Oh,” Stede said, his voice in Ed’s head right alongside Ed’s voice saying the same words. “Oh, this is… odd.” 

Ed looked down at his hand, feeling them turn without actually turning them. One was brought up to his face, his fingers were wiggling, and he wasn’t doing it. It was fucking weird as shit and cool as hell.

“You good, mate?” He asked, finding he could still physically speak. 

“It’s, yes? I think so. Probably,” Stede replied, shuffling about. “I feel oddly disconnected. Like I’m controlling a puppet with my hands and feet, but I can’t see what I’m doing. I only vaguely feel your limbs moving.”

There was another strange, tingling sensation as Stede pulled back, stepping away from Ed and looking at him in wonder. 

The stared at one another for almost a minute before Ed heard his phone in his pocket chime. He knew who it probably was, what was probably going to be asked, and it made a slow smile spread across Ed’s lips. 

“Hey,” He said to Stede, “wanna do something weird?”

Chapter Text

The plan was brilliant if Ed did say so himself. It had the possibility of getting Izzy off his back about going out every night, but even if it didn’t go that far they’d at least have some fun.

Ed had been right: he thought the message would be from Izzy, trying to get him to go out again, get away from the boat. Ed agreed, but only if they met at Jackie’s for the night. The last thing he wanted to do was have this happen at his restaurant where it might do damage to his reputation.

It had been a long time since he pulled off a fuckery to mess with the boys. And this one was going to be wild.

Ed didn’t bother changing out of the dark blue jeans or dark purple shirt he’d worn to go out with Stede earlier, knowing it would already throw the lot of them off-kilter. Make them wonder.

The whale was still in Ed’s pocket from their trip to the market, so there had been no need to take something else, and he had drove his bike to the bar with Stede clinging to his back again.

It was a brilliant but bizarre sensation. Not quite like when he and Stede merge or when Stede passes through him. It wasn’t a tingling warmth, but more like a weighty presence. If Ed closed his eyes -which he wouldn’t because that would be very, very stupid while driving - he could almost believe it was Stede’s actual, physical arms around him as they zipped down the road in the twilight.

Same with the feel of Stede at his back. He knew he was there, and if it hadn’t been for the lack of weight, he would have thought Stede was corporal. It had him giddy and wistful all at once.

“What if you drink too much?” Stede asked curiously, voice more in Ed’s ear than a helmet should allow

“Suppose you could take over for me,” Ed answered as they weaved through traffic.

“We don’t know if I might experience the same feelings of intoxication. I probably wouldn’t, I couldn’t really feel you, but maybe it’s like a contact high?”

Ed chuckled. “Guess we’ll find out,” He said, though he didn’t have any intention of drinking too much. He wanted to be sober to fully enjoy what was about to unfold.

He spotted Izzy’s car already parked out in front of Jackie’s and pulled up next to it. Stede let out a long, low whistle as he dismounted, moving to run a hand over Izzy’s car even though it didn’t make proper contact. 

“I’m not one for knowing makes and models, but I do know that this is an old, very fab car.”

“I’ll tell Izzy you like it,” Ed said as he took off his helmet and crossed his arms.

Stede stopped and spun on his heel. He gaped, looking between Ed and the car like Ed had called it an absolute junker. More amusingly, it was as though Stede had wanted to argue its merit - had Ed actually called it such - but suddenly couldn’t help seeing what Ed saw. With a disappointed huff, Stede came up beside Ed, allowing him to lead them to the door.

“He fancies you, he has a nice car,” Stede grumbled. “If he wasn’t such an ass, I might like the man.”

“Fancies me?” Ed asked, bemused. Reaching for the door, he paused as he opened it to smirk at Stede. “You picked up on that?”

Stede grinned back fondly.

“Ed, he might as well have ‘I love Edward Teach’ tattooed on his face instead of that X.”

Ed threw his head back and barked a laugh, long and hard, stumbling after Stede without a thought or care about how it looked. 

“Fuck me, I suppose so,” He said, beaming at Stede who looked entirely too pleased with himself.

“Suppose what is?” Fang asked, and Ed turned toward his voice and found the trio looking at him exactly how he hoped they would during the night: with mild confusion and maybe a hint of concern.

“Show time,” He said under his breath before striding to the table. 

“Something I heard someone say,” He grinned, sliding into the booth and glancing at Izzy.

He scowled. “I didn’t fucking say anything.”

“I know,” Ed smirked darkly.

“What do they have to drink here,” Stede asked as he sort of leaned against the booth, looking over Ed’s shoulder.

“Beer, mostly,” he replied. “Spirits.”

Ivan frowned more, “Is that what you’re drinking tonight, or…?”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Ed shrugged.

“Well, Geraldo’s bringing us a round of the usual,” He said, glancing at Fang with barely concealed concern. He shook his head, then asked, “So, uh, how was last night?”

Ed reared back in confusion.

“What do you mean? Spent it here, remember?”

Ivan darted his gaze at Izzy once, twice.

“Oh, he thinks you two went home together!” Stede crowed. “Sussed it!”

Ed’s face twisted first into horror, then confusion, then rage. What the fuck had Izzy been telling them? And it had to be Izzy because there was no way in hell anyone would get the idea of Ed going home with Izzy like that any other way. He could feel his indignation rising, which usually led to his temper getting out of control. Which, sometimes, led to court hearings and possible charges being laid.

Before he could open his mouth and say something he might regret, Stede slid down into his lap, slipped into Ed, and took control.

“Ed didn’t go home with Izzy,” Stede said, though still with Ed’s voice like back on the boat. Stede settled Ed’s body primly, sitting straighter, ankles crossed instead of having his legs spread like Ed would normally sit. He gestured with Ed’s hands as he spoke. “No, Ed certainly went home, but by himself, where he spent a perfectly lovely evening doing nothing at all.”

“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?” Fang asked worriedly.

Ed wanted to laugh, desperately. So a laugh slipped out, choked and broken as Stede was very much not amused.

“Oh, dear. Right, probably shouldn’t have done that,” He said, and Ed could feel himself blushing even though he himself wasn’t embarrassed. And his grin! Ed was, if not physically, then mentally grinning maniacally. And Stede was chagrined, which meant it probably looked like Ed was about to have a stroke.

This whole thing was wild. Absolutely mental. He was loving every second of it.

Stede hopped out, turning so he was only partially melded with Ed’s legs.

“Was a thing I picked up somewhere,” Ed replied, his face suddenly full of mirth as he chuckled, reaching for his beer.

Izzy’s hand shot out and stopped him, taking hold of his wrist.

“Maybe you had better not tonight,” He said, tone firm but eyes looking at Ed imploringly.

“Shit,” Stede cursed, making Ed look up at him and away from Izzy. But Stede wasn’t paying attention to them, and Ed looked around him to see Lucius strutting toward their table.

“Shit is right,” Ed said as he whipped back around, pressing his back against the booth.

“Fang,” Lucius said flirtatiously as he came up to the table and leaned against it. “Wouldn’t have thought this place your speed these days.” 

“Wouldn’t have thought this place your speed ever,” Fang countered with a warm grin.

“Our usual spot is a bit too loaded with memories at the moment for us to be comfortable.”

“We’re usually we’re at Edward’s,” Fang said, gesturing to Ed with a tilt of his head.

Lucius turned, startled, then grinned brightly.

“Who knew our circle of friends overlapped so much,” He said as he put his hands on his hips.

“You know Fang?” Ed asked incredulously.

“Oh, that’s Fang,” Stede said as Lucius smirked at Fang over his shoulder. 

With a wink at the bashful bald man, Lucius replied, “we had a thing a year or so ago.”

“He was with Pete, then. Open relationship,” Stede supplied.

“Huh,” Ed said, finding himself respecting his therapist that much more. 

“Well, I came over to say hi to this one,” Lucius said, stroking Fang’s arm before turning to Ed, “But since you’re here, hey! How are you?”

“Fucking fantastic,” Ed replied honestly, hearing Izzy grumble something under his breath but not able to make out what it was. “Also, you’re not as clever as you think. Because I know now that the Gent was not in business in Europe, losing his phone, and laptop, and all ways to communicate with me.”

“What?” Izzy asked in disbelief. 

That Ed heard, but he firmly ignored Izzy and focused instead on the smug therapist before him.

“Figured it out, did ya?”

“You are very unprofessional,” Ed smirked back.

Lucius waved him off, “I don’t repeat a thing that’s said behind that closed door, and I happen to like you. And since I’m pretty sure at this point you don’t actually need to see me, I’m gonna be a little lax on the whole boundaries thing. Unless you tell me to fuck off, then I will.”

“Who the fuck is he!?” Izzy demanded, clearly the only person Lucius hadn’t encountered.

“Lucius was the therapist I was assigned. We still keep in touch.”

“That’s a way of putting it,” Lucius snorted.

“Well, he’s not really needing a fucking therapist right now, is he?” Izzy snarled.

“You sure?” Ivan murmured, and Ed smirked.

Lucius, ever observant, clocked the exchange and frowned at Ed.

Stede chose that moment to take back control.

“I’m perfectly well,” Stede as Ed said, allowing the smirk on Ed’s face to shift into a full-blown grin. “Just having a bit of fun.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes, suspicious and unsure. 

“I’ve never heard you speak like that. Like, ever,” Lucius said as he gestured about Ed’s face.

“Would it have been more believable if I said I’m perfectly fucking well?” Stede asked with a curious lilt, making Ed’s voice pitch.

Ivan and Fang lost it, apparently deciding that it was better to laugh along with whatever was happening rather than openly worry.

Lucius hadn’t lost his suspicious look, but amusement took over. Stede wouldn’t turn to look at Izzy, but Ed was willing to bet he looked like the world had gone mad around him.

A shorter, bald man came up to Lucius’s side, a bit shabbily dressed by comparison but with eyes only for Lucius.

“Thought you were only popping over for a moment, babe?” he asked as he reached for Lucius and stroked his arm.

“Pete!” Stede exclaimed happily, getting Pete’s attention.

Pete turned, and then his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped.

“Oh my god, it’s Blackbeard. Blackbeard knows my name. Holy shit!”

Ed didn’t know his name. He probably wouldn’t even remember the man after tonight unless he was with Lucius. But Stede grinned, even if it felt more like a grimace, and continued as if it was Ed talking and not him.

“Of course! Black Pete, food truck down the way from the Bonnet library. Best grilled cheese sandwiches in town.”

“Really?” Ed thought in surprise.

“Meh,” Stede hummed under Ed’s breath as he reached for the beer Ed was drinking again and took a sip. 

“Babe, did you hear that!? Blackbeard knows about my food truck.”

“Yeah, I did,” Lucius said, right back to sounding suspicious. “Well, I’ll leave you and Fangy with your crew and see you around?” 

“Yeah, mate,” Ed said, Stede slipping away to allow him control.

Ed watched Lucius and his partner head back to their table, Pete still going on about the great Blackbeard supposedly knowing about his sandwich truck.

“Edward,” Izzy said.

“I think we should call an end to the fuckery tonight,” Stede said as Ed turned to take in the genuine concern on his friend’s face.

“Just fucking around, Iz,” Ed promised, mistakingly putting his hand on Izzy’s knee and giving it a squeeze. 

The gesture shouldn’t have meant so much, but he could see the surprise that quickly softened Izzy’s features. Ed withdrew his hand as quickly as he could without seeming like he was purposely pulling away, hoping to lessen the damage.

“I can give you some privacy,” Stede offered, “let you be with your friends for a while. I can go stand with Lucius, Pete, the others. Catch up on the gossip I missed.”

“If you want,” Ed said glancing at Stede.

“Who you talking to?” Ivan asked as Stede gave Ed a grin and then walked off.

“another round we can,” Ed said as he lifted his beer. “If you want another round. Promise to behave. Just been a stressful couple weeks.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Ivan said, lifting his bottle in a toast.

And Ed clinked with the others, falling into their conversation but painfully aware of Stede in his peripheral vision. He wanted nothing more than to look, and on occasion he did. Fleeting, quick darts that wouldn’t draw attention and realizing that it was going to be a very long night.

~S~

It hadn’t been part of the plan. But while the plan was sort of fun, neither he nor Ed expected others that might know him to be around. Seeing Lucius, Pete, noting Frenchie and Oluwande waiting for them back at the table, had Stede long for the company of those he missed.

Ed, he’d do fine on his own, with his own mates to hang about. And after not getting to leave the boat for nearly two weeks, Stede was going to take the opportunity that presented itself. He’d have no choice but to leave with Ed anyway, not that he wouldn’t regardless. But while he could, while it was possible….

He caught up with Lucius and Pete as they slide back into their booth. Stede, not having a chair near enough to sit in, stood at the end of the table and watched them with a smile.

“That was fucking wild,” Lucius said with wide eyes as he grabbed his drink and took a drink.

“Yeah! Blackbeard knows about me!” Pete beamed excitedly.

“He doesn’t,” Lucius said immediately before Oluwande or Frenchie could offer some form of congratulations. “I know he doesn’t because I have never mentioned it, and he has never been near the library. He knows Stede, I only figured that out a little while ago, but he also just confirmed for me that they never actually met. And I don’t know about you, but that man does not strike me as the library-going type.”

“Okay,” Oluwande said slowly. “Well, maybe Jim mentioned it? I mean, they do come see me from time to time. We’ve gone to Pete’s truck.”

“Yeah, but is Jim the type to talk to Edward about food trucks?” Lucius asked pointedly, clearly knowing the answer.

Oluwande shrugged, “no, but I mean….”

“I can’t say more because it’s privileged and all, but I had no idea at all that he had any links to us before, like, yesterday. Like, literally yesterday.”

“You ain’t even supposed to be telling us who sees you,” Frenchie pointed out.

“I said it was privileged, not that I see Edward Teach as a patient,” Lucius rolled his eyes.

“But you do,” Stede said, glancing back over his shoulder at Ed.

“Anyway, how I know that aside, it’s just… Ed was acting weird.”

“Weird how?” Oluwande asked.

“I dunno. Familiar in a weird way but not how he normally acts.”

“Well, if he knows Stede maybe he’s just, you know, coping. Like we all are.”

Coping. Well, that didn’t sound all that great.

“I talked to Mary,” Lucius said, much more subdued now. “The doctors are really pressuring her to do something more. Stede’s stable, and all, but he hasn’t woken up at all. They want to run tests or maybe take him off the ventilators. Depends on who happens to be making the rounds that particular day.”

Horror shot through Stede, and he reached for the table for balance. He stumbled forward, either because he couldn’t have actually leaned on it, or because he was somehow too far from the blasted whale figure to maintain any sort of integrity.

It’s how he found himself standing just shy of the middle of the table with his friends looking at each other through him.

“She’s not letting them do anything, is she?” Frenchie demanded, and Lucius shook his head.

“Not yet, anyway. She wants to give Stede more time. And technically she has a few more weeks before his Living Will really pushes the issue.”

“Fuck,” Stede blurted, the reminder a slap in the face.

He’d signed it when his father was still alive, filled out the paperwork to make sure that he would never end up like Edwin Bonnet did: on life support far too long, far past the point where he would still be living as opposed to merely alive.

Stede hadn’t been completely rash, he still wanted a fighting chance at getting through whatever circumstances would have put him there in the first place. But he’d given the timeline of one month before they pulled the plug, so to speak. 

And it had already been nearly two.

“Fuck!” He yelled as loud and hard as he could while his friends spoke around him, then turned and left the bar. 

He passed through the door into the night and strode to Ed’s bike. He rested against it, scoffing when he was actually able to despite the whale being even further away, then buried his face in his hands. 

A beat later he heard the door fly open.

“Stede!” Ed called into the night, and Stede could hear his footfall rapidly racing toward him. “Hey,” He said gently, fingers wrapped around Stede’s wrist but not making the fruitless attempt to pull them away. He merely waited for Stede to look at him.

Stede lowered his hands and looked up at him, about to speak when the bar door opened again.

“Edward!” Izzy called, racing toward them. When all he could see is Ed looking at his bike, he glanced around and spat, “the fuck has gotten into you tonight.”

“Not now, Iz,” Ed tried to say, barely looking at the man over his shoulder.

“You’re acting like a fucking mad man, going all poncy then laughing about it. You got a fucking therapist looking at you like you should be locked up. And right when I think whatever the fuck is wrong with your brain cleared up, you startle then bolt like a spoked fucking cat.”

“You know, mate, when I say not now, I mean not now?” Ed spoke with deceptive calm, but there was a cold glint in his eyes Stede hadn’t seen before. One that promised if Izzy didn’t back off soon, he would wish he had.

Clearly having had experience with this particular side of Ed, Izzy raised his hands in surrender and then backed away.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but you need to get your shit together,” Izzy said before turning and heading back inside the bar.

“Come on,” Ed said as he gestured for Stede to move before getting his helmet out. “We’ll talk back home.”

Stede nodded, getting on the back of the bike once Ed settled on, and wrapped his arm around him, hanging on in more ways than one.

~*~

Once they were back on the yacht, Ed got comfy on the couch with a drink, and listened as Stede explained.

“My father was a terrible man,” He started, wringing his hands. “An awful, horrible son of a bitch with a stubborn streak big enough to wrap around the world. Not to mention the ability to hold a grudge. 

“That aside, he had been putting off seeing the Doctor about his heart. He’d have chest pains, breathing problems, you name it. Anyway, when he finally went in, he needed bypass surgery. Which, of course, he put off as long as he could as well. And he did nothing to improve his health in the meantime.

“Day of the surgery came, and it was all going well until it didn’t. He ended up on life support in the critical care unit, and because he refused to do any sort of pre-surgery paperwork, he remained that way until we could convince mum to let him go. It’s how I knew they wouldn’t be entirely honest about me in the papers, because they weren’t about dad.”

“Okay,” Ed said with patience and more than a little confusion. He leaned forward, closer to where Stede sat on the coffee table, gripping his tumbler with both hands in a white knuckle grip. “What’s this got to do with what happened in the bar?”

“I’m getting there,” Stede assured, trying for a smile and failing. “I watched my dad waste away and I swore that if something were to happen to me like that, that there wouldn’t be any way to keep me going longer than I should. A month. I gave them a month, five weeks at most, from the time it was deemed I needed it to survive. If after that, my condition didn’t improve, I have a living will that states I want no more life-saving measures to be taken. To take me off the machines and leave the rest up to fate.

“It’s been almost two weeks already, Edward. And Mary… Mary knew my wishes. And according to Lucius, someone is already trying to speed things up.”

“Shit,” Ed breathed, running his hand over his scalp, tugging a bit at the strands. “What the fuck can we do, you’re not dead! You’re not a vegetable or some shit! You’re right here.”

“Yes, here. A not-ghost who has been haunting you.”

“Yeah, well, I would like not-ghost you to haunt me more. As in haunting because you’re here and alive, and maybe a bit fleshy.”

Stede snorted, “fleshy?” He smirked.

“You know what I’m fucking talking about.”

“I don’t know how to fix any of it,” Stede shook his head, watching Ed’s hand fall with a smack from his head to his lap. His gaze was distant.

There wasn’t an answer for a long beat, and Stede wondered if maybe he’d upset Ed by telling him everything. But he had a right to know, didn’t he? What they were couldn’t really be defined in their current circumstances. But Stede knew how he felt about Ed, believed it was possible Ed felt the same way, and if the tables were turned, he would want to know what might happen to Ed.

“I have an idea,” Ed said eventually, still not looking at Stede. “Thing is, it’s gonna have to wait a few days. But… how, um, how open is Lucius to like… the thought of paranormal stuff?”

Stede blinked, rearing back a touch and trying to think of what his friend might think.

“I genuinely don’t know. Frenchie, he goes on about witches and crystals, and all that all the time. Lucius indulges him, but I don’t think he’s ever really gotten into it. I don’t think he would think it outrageous.”

“Okay,” Ed said as he drained the liquor in his glass. He then pointed at Stede with it, extending his pointer for emphasis. “We got about five-ish days to wait. Then we’re gonna try something. And if it works, maybe we can go on from there.” 

“Five days?” Stede frowned. “Ed, I don’t… what are you-?”

“Do you trust me?” Ed interrupted, looking at Stede earnestly.

“Yes,” He replied without hesitation. “Yes, I trust you.”

Ed nodded once, then reached for Stede. He passed his hand through Stede’s, and because instinct would have had him locking their fingers together, he accidentally took control of Ed’s hand. Maybe that’s what Ed had wanted because he smiled.

“Good,” He said, “‘Cause I feel like we waited too fucking long to meet. And I’ll be damned if this,” He gestured to the hand Stede had a hold of with a tilt of his head, “is all we ever get.” 

Chapter Text

Ed had, from time to time, let his mind wander while he worked. 

Sometimes when it wasn’t so busy they barely had time to blink it was the only way to get through the day. Pre-Stede, he would imagine what it might be like to fuck off and leave. Simply walk away from the restaurant and never return. Or, if maybe he should get a cat since those bastards are independent and not terrible company all in all.

After his first few encounters with Stede online, and then especially when he realized he was a local, Ed would daydream. Sometimes it was a weird fantasy that had him bringing an order to a table and somehow - magically - finding out that the man he was delivering it to was the Gent. To spice it up, he would change it to meeting the Gent at a cafe. Or, in one crazy one that apparently wasn’t so crazy, at the farmers market.

Ed didn’t exactly go a lot of places, so the possibilities that could be realistic were limited. He tried exactly once to imagine the Gent being one of his neighbors until he realized the only male neighbor he had was an elderly gentleman pushing ninety. Woulda been fine for a mate to chat with, but Ed wasn’t lonely for friends.

Since Stede came into his life in a tangible way, daydreams were still a thing but more grounded in reality.

For instance, waking up with him. Since they hammered out who each other were - and began whatever the fuck Ed could classify their relationship as - waking up next to Stede lost its awkwardness. Would it be better if he could curl into him? Kiss him? See him equally sleep rumpled? Fuck, yeah, it would, which was one of the realistic daydreams Ed would indulge himself in.

He liked to imagine the conversations they’d have when he got home, discussing the audiobook Stede had listened to during the day in Ed’s absence, or what happened at the restaurant. How they would lapse into history, or maybe politics. How they’d tell each other more about their lives that they hadn’t already shared. And when the day would catch up with Ed, they’d go to the bedroom and watch something on the TV there together. Ed would cast their choice of the evening to the screen, and more often than not they would chat about the show or movie while they watched.

Ed could daydream that mundane, everyday form of living constantly, but with touches casual and intimate alike. With kisses that he wanted but couldn’t give.

And wasn’t that something? Barely met, had one shitty half-date, and Ed was already entirely committed to Stede Bonnet. Forget the fact that they were still getting to know each other as actual people and not just names on the screen, Ed wanted him as his. Already thought of Stede that way, too.

So, that’s where his mind was most of the time when he wasn’t terribly busy. And who he was thinking about as he finally got to work on the marmalade-inspired recipe he thought of back in the farmer’s market.

“Needs something,” He mumbled to himself, tapping his foot and glaring at the chicken dish he’d been working on. “Jim, try this.”

Jim moved in Ed’s periphery, grabbing a fork and stabbing a piece of the chicken with more force than probably necessary.

“’S good,” They said, tossing the fork into the sink with a clang.

“Yes, yes, but it needs something,” Ed huffed, glancing at the doorway as Izzy came in, looking at something on his tablet with his usual scowl.

Ed grabbed another fork, stabbed another piece of the chicken, and beckoned, “Iz, come’er.”

Izzy turned to the sound of Ed’s voice, moving his way through the kitchen to him without looking up from the screen until he was nearly at Ed’s side.

“Taste this,” He said, shoving the fork toward Izzy’s face as he finally looked up.

Izzy’s eyes went wide a moment, but then he leaned in and took the morsel off the fork with his teeth. It hadn’t been what Ed had meant, expecting Izzy to take the utensil. But at least it meant Izzy actually tried the damn thing.

He watched his friend’s face as Izzy chewed slowly, thoughtfully. Not one for cooking, he at least had a decent sense of taste. So when the scowl returned, though less menacing and more considering, Ed already knew he was going to get the answer he wanted. Or, at least, half the answer.

“It’s missing something,” Izzy said, and Ed threw his hands in the air.

“’S what I’ve been saying!” He crowed, looking down at the grilled chicken cut into pieces and smothered in the sauce he’d whipped up. He stabbed another piece and looked at it. “It’s, I dunno. Not bad, good.”

“Yeah,” Izzy agreed.

“Sweet, but not overly so,” Ed put the piece in his mouth, Izzy’s face doing something weird and complicated when he did it. “But it’s missing something, and I can’t fucking tell if it should be a herb or something salty.”

Izzy continued to stare at Ed in that dazed way while Ed chewed. Ed, in turn, stared him down until the man snapped out of whatever stupor he was in.

“Is that why you had a fuck ton of jam delivered here?” Izzy said when he came around.

“Marmalade, yeah,” Ed admitted. “Ste-a friend of mine, uh, he recommended I try this local place and it, uh… inspired… something.”

“Well, next time a heads up would be nice,” Izzy said, lips twitching in his grin. “Didn’t fucking know what to think when we got a crate of fucking jam brought here when we don’t fucking open for breakfast.”

“It’s marmalade, Izzy,” Ed huffed, amused.

Izzy’s grin broke through, full and bright, “What’s the fucking difference?”

“Can you flirt somewhere else, please?” Jim sassed, and Ed turned toward them with a frown. They were boring their gaze into Izzy, even if their expression wasn’t terribly aggressive. “Some of us are trying to deal with food, and we don’t need you making us nauseated. Got it, hombre ?”

Ed turned back in time to see Izzy sneer before he turned away, stomping off and already shouting orders as he headed back to the dining room.

“Bit harsh,” Ed said as the door swung shut behind the angry little man.

“Yeah, well, maybe if you made it a bit more clear you got no interest in El hijo de puta,  wouldn’t have to be.”

Ed frowned, his knowledge of Spanish was not great, but he’d been working with Jim enough to know they’d said something less than nice about Izzy. Which, fair.

“Unless you do have interest, then I need to question your sanity,” Jim added after Ed didn’t respond.

“No interest. Seeing someone, actually,” Ed said without thinking.

“Does he know that?”

“No,” Ed admitted. “Things are… complicated at the moment.”

“Well, you should say something,” Jim said. “Because he looked two seconds away from doing something I don’t ever wanna see from Izzy fucking Hands, and all you did was eat off the same fork.”

Ed looked at the offending utensil still in his hand with a glare. But, well, what’s done was done and there wasn’t any going back in time to fix it. Tossing the fork in the sink, he sighed and cleaned up the mess he made before preparing for the dinner rush.

~S~

It wasn’t disconcerting to find himself on the bed next to Ed after over a week of it happening. It was a bit disappointing some mornings when he would find himself laying on his back, Ed’s arm through his chest, or their legs melded together. Knowing that there was a chance that they’d be cuddling if Stede had been corporal made him ache with a longing he hadn’t ever experienced.

In the decade he and Mary had been married, they did not cuddle, not like that. A family extra large bed in their large master bedroom meant they didn’t ever have to worry about one or the other accidentally rolling over in the night and crossing that invisible line that would make things awkward. And with Alma, and then Louis, there was the excuse of having plenty of room for when little minds were restless and needed their parents. 

Yes, they could have had separate rooms, but there was a worry that someone in one of their families would catch wind and question. It wasn’t proper, after all, for a married couple to sleep separately these days. 

And because prior to Mary any dalliances weren’t the sort that could extend overnight, Stede had never had the pleasure of sleeping next to a person he actually longed to share a bed with.

And he still technically hadn’t, but it was a near thing. 

But oh, how Stede wanted. Wanted to roll toward him, put his arm around him, pull him close, and rest his chin in Ed’s thick hair. To breathe in a scent that Stede still didn’t know, and feel skin Stede still didn’t properly know the touch of. He wanted to kiss over the beard to Ed’s nose and nuzzle it until the man stirred, to know without a shadow of a doubt he was the reason behind that sleepy morning smile. 

The wanting came with guilt, though. They’d spent half a year talking through aliases, first about their mutual interest in pirate history, then about everything without ever actually revealing personal details. He knew everything he thought he could possibly know about Blackbeard1718, yet he barely knew Edward Teach. It was like being in love with a legend, a myth. He could know all the details of this phantom that was barely more than a being of smoke in his mind, but the flesh and blood Ed was something more, something wonderful.

Frankly, this whole situation was an absolute mess and Stede loved and hated every second of it in equal measure.

Ed’s alarm went off, and Stede watched as Ed’s face screwed up adorably before he reached behind himself and smacked the phone sitting on the nightstand. He opened his eyes barely a crack, then wriggled closer to Stede. So close, in fact, that it was like he was going to give Stede those imagined nose nuzzles or even the longed-for sleepy morning kisses.

“Morning,” He grumbled with a smile, and where their hands connected, Stede latched on, taking control even though he had no intention of doing anything with it.

“Good morning,” He said, flexing Ed’s hand in place of a squeeze. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm,” Ed agreed before stretching as much as he could with one hand in Stede’s possession. “Fuck, I love this bed.”

“So you’ve said,” Stede chuckled quietly. 

The two lay there a moment facing one another as Ed slowly woke up a little more, bit by bit. 

“Suppose I should get on with it,” he said, and Stede gave one last flex of Ed’s fingers before he gave up control.

“You should. I’ll have to think of what book I want you to set up for me for the day,” He said as he watched Ed roll over and slink out of bed.

He had been listening to his favorites because there was always the risk that he wouldn’t remember some if not all of this experience when or if his body woke up. Plus, when his mind began to wander to the problem of his living will and the ticking clock, he would force himself to focus on the words and lose himself in the stories instead, picking up on the differences he could note.

“Not today,” Ed said over his shoulder as he gathered his clothes for the day. 

“What do you mean?” Stede asked, sitting up on the bed with a frown.

Ed turned to face him properly. 

“I see Lucius right after work. Five days, I said. Today’s the day.”

“We’re not going to do another fuckery are we?” Stede asked cautiously.

“Nah, not really,” Ed waved him off as he walked backward to the ensuite. “But you’re gonna come with me, and we’re gonna get Lucius to believe you’re there. And once he does, maybe he can help us talk to your wife.”

“You’re going to talk to Mary ?” Stede asked in disbelief, growing more incredulous as Ed shrugged.

“Already had to get this place.”

“Ed, it’s a bit much. You’re going to come off as-as insane!” 

“Stede, most people already think I’m a lunatic,” Ed said fondly, a smile to match tugging on his lips. “You’re worth any further damage in that regard.” He then turned and headed into the ensuite, closing the door and effectively ending the conversation before Stede could argue.

Was he worth it? Probably not. But he didn’t think he would be able to tell Ed otherwise.

~E~

Bringing Stede to work was probably a stupid thing to do, but Ed had done dumber things in his life and had learned to live with the consequences of his actions. It didn’t make it easier to act fucking normal, though. Not with Stede watching them all work, standing at Ed’s side out of the way of Roach or Jim, or whoever he was working with at the moment. Not with Stede’s awe at everything they did and his running commentary. And, often, his acerbic takes on Izzy and his micromanaging.

“He probably tells the wait staff when they’re allowed to blink for fuck sake,” he had muttered under his breath after Izzy dressed down one of the waiters for not holding a plate precisely the way Izzy had told them. “Think it’s him compensating for his size?”

Ed had to turn a laugh into a cough on that one, waving off the concerned looks from Jim and Roach before shooting a half-assed scowl at a smirking Stede.

“What?” He’d asked, “the man is barely taller than my daughter.”

He’d at least behaved himself after that, and Ed got through the lunch rush and was able to turn his attention for a time to the lemon-ginger marmalade dish he’d been working on all week.

Jim started cursing a blue streak in Spanish when they’d seen Ed get out the jar he’d opened and a chicken thigh to cook up, but he ignored them.

Ed went through the regular motions, adjusting the recipe a little bit like he had all week, portioning off the sauce into different dishes to add different things to it in an attempt to find the missing bit. 

When it was finished, Stede having hummed and ooed the whole process through, Ed tried a bite of the adjusted recipe and promptly decided that he fucked it up. It wasn’t a difference in vinegar that was needed, and he was more than a little glad he hadn’t made the whole batch with the adjustment.

He looked at his notes, tapping the pencil against the pages of the notebook and staring at it.

“It looks like it would be delicious on paper,” Stede said over his shoulder. “Have you asked the others?”

Ed glanced at him and nodded.

“Hmm, you’ve been saying it’s missing something, though, right? Not so much needing a change to it.”

Ed pursed his lips and nodded again as he turned his attention back to the pad. Then dropped the pencil to rest his hand on the countertop, tapping his fingers.

Stede’s hand overlapped his, ceasing the tapping as he took control.

“You’ll figure it out. I always enjoy your food, and I’m sure when you get this sussed, I’ll love it as much as any of your other dishes.”

Ed straightened, then looked at Stede, taking in his encouraging grin and wide eyes. He then blindly reached for the notepad, flipping it one-handed to the back, then picked up the pencil with his wrong hand.

Can you taste when you’re possessing me?

Stede scrunched his face distastefully at the note.

“Possessing doesn’t sound that great, but I suppose there’s no other word for it. And I can. Or at least I believe I can. I had a sip of your drink the night of our little fuckery, but to be honest I can’t remember if I actually tasted it or merely recalled the memory of what the flavor should be. I’d been a bit preoccupied.”

Ed nodded, glanced around the kitchen to find no one looking, then beckoned Stede with a crook of his finger.

At Stede’s frown, Ed tilted to the dish and raised his brows pointedly.

“Oh!” Stede understood, and then giddily slid over to stand in Ed.

It took a moment for the two of them to sort of meld without being too obvious with the shift, and then Stede picked up the abandoned fork.

“One on the right,” Ed said quietly, and then Stede had him nodding before going for a taste.

Ed could still taste the dish with Stede in control, but apparently, that didn’t hinder Stede’s ability to as well if his surprised hum meant anything. Stede had him chewing slowly, moving the bite around in his mouth slowly like a proper taster. He swallowed, then shifted out of Ed, allowing him full control again.

“It’s good,” Stede said, but not in the dismissive way others had, more thoughtful. “Does it need more salt?”

“Tried that,” Ed mumbled.

“Well… what about soy sauce? Or fish sauce?”

“Fish sauce?” Ed’s nose wrinkled. But… “fuck,” He said before moving to the fridge and opening the door rough enough to rattle the bottles inside. He grabbed the bottle of fish sauce and half-stomped back to the counter. 

He should probably cook it through, but this was just a test and he didn’t care quite enough - nor did he really have time - to start the whole thing from scratch.

He added a couple of drops, mixed it through as well as he could, then took a bite.

“Oh fuck me!” He said, slamming the fist holding the fork down on the counter before turning to Stede. “You clever fucking bastard.”

“Praising yourself again?” Roach asked, turning away from the plate he’d just finished preparing and snagging a clean fork from the bin on the counter. He took a piece of the chicken without asking and took a bit.

His eyes went wide. “That is better.”

“Fucking fish sauce,” Ed said to him the pair clanking their empty forks in a sort of toast before simultaneously tossing them aside. “Get someone to clean this up for me, will you? I gotta head to an appointment.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Roach said with a cheeky grin and a half-assed salute. 

Ed turned to head to his office with a skip in his step. 

“You’re fucking brilliant, mate,” He said to Stede when they were in the hallway. “Fucking fish sauce!”

Stede waved off the compliment with a shrug.

“I only suggested it because Mary had been trying to make a copycat dish of something we had on vacation once, and it turned out to be the thing she needed.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short, mate. I wouldn’t have thought of it on my own,” Ed admitted before popping into his office. He shed his chef jacket as he did, making for the leather one on the hook to swap them out.

Stede frowned. “How is that sanitary?” he asked with a wrinkle of his nose.

Ed smirked.

“Office isn’t locked, mate. Just the drawers on my desk that need to be. End of the day, one of the cleaning crew comes in swaps it out with a fresh one from the laundry.”

“Oh,” Stede pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Very efficient.”

“I figure I technically pay to have the laundry for the place done, might as well throw in the uniform, too. Roach and Jim, the night crew, they all shuck theirs in with towels and shit at the end of it. Prevents the grease stains from getting in with their things.”

“Considering that’s their uniform, it’s rather generous of you.”

Ed merely shrugged before throwing on his leather jacket. He settled it around his shoulders, reminding himself a bit of armor as he steeled himself for the plan he’d been thinking about since he first brought it up to Stede five days ago.

“Right, you ready?” He asked.

“I suppose as I’ll ever be. What if it doesn’t work?” Stede worried his hands, and chewed on his bottom lip a bit.

Ed wanted to close the distance between them, and tug the lip free before running his thumb over Stede’s cheek. But he couldn’t, not properly anyway. So he did the next best thing: he closed the distance and passed his hand through Stede’s.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the way Stede seemed to instinctually latch on to Ed. How he took possession of Ed’s hand by the mere brush of it. Maybe Stede saw it the same way as Ed did: as the closest they could get to holding hands for the time being. Ed always thought of the flex as Stede’s way of squeezing, to say he was there and he had Ed. 

Even now, when it was Ed who had wanted to give the reassurance, Stede flexed Ed’s fingers a quick beat.

“If it doesn’t work, we’ll think of something,” He told Stede, holding his gaze. “And we still have a few weeks, yeah?”

“I know,” Stede nodded. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, then thought better of it, mouth opening then closing as Stede gave a decisive nod.

“Good,” Ed said, and Stede relinquished his hold on Ed’s hand. “Now, just gotta find a way to convince Lucius that I’m not fucking crazy, and we’ve got one foot in the door,” Ed said as he headed for his actual door.

Throwing it open, he found Izzy on the other side, a tablet in one hand and a bundle of menus in the other tucked against his side. He was just a hair past Ed’s office door, clearly about to step into his own, but was frowning at Ed in confusion.

“Who the fuck were you just talking to?” He asked, a heavy dose of worry in his tone.

“Myself,” Ed replied without missing a beat. “What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to the menus.

Izzy glanced down at them as if he’d forgotten they were there.

“Need updating. Someone just tried to order that fucking stir-fry we haven’t had on the menu for a few months. These ones seemed to miss the last change.”

Ed cringed, “Do I want to know what happened with the person who did them up?”

“I’d have fucking fired them if I hadn’t already done that two weeks ago.”

“Iz, we can’t,” Ed sighed, scrubbing at his face. “I don’t have time for this conversation right now,” He said as he stepped past Izzy, heading down the hall.

“We’d have a fuck ton more time if you didn’t keep swanning off at four o’clock.”

“It’s called proper working hours. Should try it sometime,” Ed called back over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen to sneak out the back.

“I want to feel bad for the bugger, but he’s such an arse it’s hard to muster it,” Stede said as he followed.

Ed couldn’t exactly reply at the moment so he merely nodded, knowing it could be passed off as just him bobbing it while thinking. He waved as he passed through the kitchen, snorting as he caught Jim sneaking a bite of the completed dish on his way out.

~*~

Stede was once again fidgeting nervously outside of Lucius’s office. Ed watched him try and straighten a jacket that never rumpled and smooth cuffs that never creased. 

“Relax,” He said fondly, noting Stede doing a double glance at him.

“You know I’ve never been here?” He said, gesturing to the brownstone. “I swore to Lucius that I wouldn’t because we always felt it might muddle the line between having a chat between friends and a therapy session.”

“Well, I don’t really see my therapist outside of appointments. Last week was a first,” Ed said as he shifted his helmet under his arm and went to the door to ring the buzzer. 

“I get that, I do,” Stede said as the door unlocked. “It’s just… there’s nothing comforting about this. Nothing familiar aside from the pair of you.”

Ed grinned, feeling his chest burn with affection. 

“It’ll be fine,” Ed assured, brushing his fingers over Stede’s sleeve and making his fingertips tingle.

“Alright,” Stede nodded, taking a breath and nodding once.

Ed pushed the door open and made his way to the office.

“Just follow my lead, we got this.”

“We got this,” Stede repeated.

When Ed stepped inside, there were no other patients, as was usually the case. But oddly, Lucius was already standing in the waiting room, looking down at his phone and seemingly waiting for Ed.

After the door to the office clicked shut, Lucius looked up.

“Does it always take you that long to get here from the front door?” He asked, gesturing about between the door behind Ed and the general direction of the main entrance. 

“Umm, not, not… where’s the Swede?”

“Oh, I gave him the rest of the day,” Lucius waved Ed off. “Poor thing looked awful, told him to go home and eat an orange or something. Anyway, just us, so come on back,” He said, beckoning Ed to follow him over his shoulder.

Ed set his helmet on the reception counter, then glanced at Stede and gestured with a tilt of his head as he started to follow Lucius.

The pause must have been noted because Lucius watched Ed with a furrow in his brow, lips pursed and turned downward, eyes scanning him over as Ed went to the couch and took a seat.

“You alright?” He asked slowly, never taking his eyes off Ed as he took his regular seat.

“Yeah, fine,” Ed said.

“Got something on your mind you wanna talk about?” Lucius asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands over his knee.

Ed took a deep breath, glancing at Stede as he perched on the arm of the couch.

Lucius clocked it, glancing at the arm suspiciously.

“So,” Ed started, confidence in this plan suddenly fleeing. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, trying to keep his breath even in hopes of calming his heart. “Stede.”

“Yeah?” Lucius said as Stede said, “yes?”

Ed’s mouth quirked up on one side quickly, before he licked his lips and mirrored Lucius’s posture.

“You know we’ve been talking?” He asked Lucius.

“Well, I know now.”

“And Stede spoke about me?” Ed asked, and Lucius frowned a little deeper.

“Yeah,” He drew out the word. 

“I live on his boat,” Ed stated, and Lucius arched a brow.

“Okay,” He said, gaze darting over Ed’s face. “And how are we feeling about this?”

“This isn’t working,” Stede blurted.

“Would you give it a chance,” Ed said, turning briefly to Stede. After earning a resigned huff from the blonde, he turned back to Lucius who was again glancing between Ed and the arm of the sofa.

“Edward, what’s going on?”

Ed took a deep breath and leaned back.

“I’m still talking to Stede.”

Lucius blinked. “Okay,” He said with a quick shake of his head, “I mean. People… when things happen, they like to talk to those who aren’t… with them anymore.”

“Oh god, am I dead?!” Stede shrieked, and Ed flinched.

“Would you calm down, mate? I think we’d know if you were dead,” Ed chastised him.

“Ed, are you talking to Stede… now?” Lucius asked, clearly trying not to sound judgmental and barely passing.

“Fuck, yeah, he’s here,” Ed said, gesturing to the arm. “Currently not helping the situation.”

“Ed,” Lucius said kindly, but Ed halted him, moving his hands as if he could physically push away the gentle tone.

“No, I get it, okay? I know how it sounds. But, like, fuck… I gotta…,” He huffed, and scrubbed his face. “Plan, back to the plan.” He turned to Stede. “Tell me something about him that I wouldn’t know.”

“Umm,” Stede pondered, but something already sprung to mind.

“Stede ensured his library always had psych books because of you. He, umm, he housed you ‘cause you got kicked out of your parents' place because your dad was a dick.”

Lucius blinked, then looked about the room as if he were trying to find the evidence that told Ed these things.

“That’s not going to be enough,” Stede warned.

“I mean… you’re not wrong,” Lucius said after a beat. “But that’s… I mean you could guess that. We talked about shitty fathers and coming out. You know about Stede, so….”

“He once ate all the mint Oreos while watching Alma and Louis because they stressed him out, then tried to hide the package in my study,” Stede said with an affectionate smirk.

“You tried to make Stede think he finished off the mint Oreos?” Ed snickered at Lucius before turning to Stede and asked, “You bought mint oreos?”

“Mary did,” Stede corrected as Lucius stuttered. “I never cared for them.”

“He tried to hide them in your office, and you don’t even like them?”

“This is insane,” Lucius’s voice broke, and Ed snapped his attention back to him. “I mean, no. No, that… this is an elaborate thing. What did you call it? A fuckery. It’s a fuckery, Stede told you this, like months ago or something and you’re only sussing it out now.” 

Lucius was wide-eyed and panicked, and Ed had a feeling he was one wrong thing away from making his therapist believe he had lost it or became the world’s biggest dick for bringing up these memories of his friend who was in a fucking coma.

He had to do something that Lucius couldn’t argue away. 

“Right, right, okay,” Ed said as he got to his feet, pacing around the couch.

When the idea hit him barely a couple of seconds later, he snapped his fingers, turned on his heel, and pointed at Lucius. “Stede’s here right now. He’s telling me this, but you don’t believe it, and I get it. I fucking do, mate. I thought I was losing it, too, when I first started seeing him. So how about something that couldn’t have been said beforehand? Alright?” He waited for Lucius to react before continuing.

Lucius, for his part, seemed to be thinking it over. Mouth moving like a fish, he opened and closed it a few times before eventually rolling his eyes and nodding.

“’Kay, then,” Ed said carefully, “I’m gonna turn my back to you. You’re gonna stand, put your hand or hands behind your back, and you’re going to put up a few fingers, alright? Stede’s going to tell me what they are, and I will repeat them back. My back to you, I can’t cheat, right? No mirrors in here.”

“Right,” Lucius said, “Okay, yeah, fine,” He said, an edge of certainty that this would settle the insanity but perhaps not the way Ed thought it would. 

Ed grinned, sharp and eager, before he turned around and crossed his arms.

“He’s currently palming his face,” Stede said with a hint of amusement that mostly masked his worry.

“Lucius, get to it,” Ed said.

“Oh, he just got really tense,” Stede narrated. A few seconds passed, and he said, “two.”

“Two fingers,” Ed relayed.

“Four,” Stede told him.

“Four,” Ed repeated.

“Oh, nine!”

“Nine.”

“What the fuck,” Lucius gasped out.

“Four again, but this time he’s gesturing to hang loose.”

Ed could hear the smile in Stede’s voice, and it made his own grin stretch.

“Four, and you’re hanging loose apparently,” He relayed, chuckling at Lucius’s squawk.

“Oh, rude gestures this time.”

“He’s flipping me off?” Ed asked, barely containing a chuckle.

“Oh my god!” Lucius shouted.

“Indeed he was,” Stede confirmed.

Ed turned around, seeing Lucius pale and panicked, breathing heavy and oddly glancing in the general direction Stede was standing in.

“He’s here. Stede’s here. He’s here- here, right now. In this room. Where he can hear us?”

Ed pursed his lips and nodded.

Lucius tilted his head back, looking around the room.

“Stede, this is meant to be a private session!” Lucius half-shouted, voice going higher and cracking more with each word. He panted like he had just run a marathon before turning his attention to Ed. “How long? How long has he been… fuck, no. That’s. No. Because if he’s here, he’s… but ghosts aren’t fucking real!”

“Stede’s been about since the accident, but I only started seeing him when I rented the boat from Mary,” Ed explained.

“And did you do it so you could speak to him? I mean, what the fucking hell am I supposed to do with this information!? This is not in my expertise. This is not something I know how to handle!”

“Oh, he’s going to have a panic attack,” Stede said as Lucius dropped into the chair and ducked his head between his knees.

“I’m going to have a panic attack,” Lucius said from between his legs, voice a bit muffled.

“Yeah, Stede said you were about to,” Ed said as he came back around to the coach.

Lucius and Stede both turned eerily matching glares at him almost in sync with one another.

“Not helping,” They both said at the same time, but only Stede beamed afterward.

Ed did his best not to grin, but he didn’t do a fantastic job.

“Mary would have told me if Stede was dying,” Lucius stated, reaching for the water on the side table and pouring a glass, chugging it down.

“He’s not. At least, not yet, we don’t think,” Ed glanced at Stede for reassurance and got a nod. “But he told me about how it’s likely he’ll only have a few weeks before….”

“Yeah,” Lucius nodded. 

“So, what if we told Mary-“

“Wait, hold on,” Lucius waved his hands about. “Have you even met Mary? Like, met her in the ‘Stede’s wife’ sense and not the ‘woman who’s renting a boat’ sense?”

“No,” Ed replied. 

“So how are you going to tell her that her husband is somehow haunting you despite not being dead? Hell, how would you tell her Stede was haunting you even if he was dead?”

“Husband? I’m not divorced?” Stede asked, face twisted in confusion.

“That’s what you’re worried about right now? That you’re not divorced?” Ed asked. He could see Lucius in his peripheral moving his head about as if he could maybe see Stede if he looked at him the right way.

“I was going to meet you,” Stede reminded him.

Ed shrugged, “Yeah, okay?”

“I wouldn’t have done that if we weren’t divorced. Especially if we thought it was a date.”

“Well, I mean. Like I said, I thought it was a date. Felt like it was gonna be a date.”

“This is so fucking bizarre,” Lucius mumbled as if he hadn’t wanted to be heard. When he realized he was, he shook his head. “For Stede’s peace of mind, Mary has the papers in the house, they just have to be signed. Except, well, can’t really do that right now.”

“Oh!” Stede’s face lit up. “I could use you! You could help me sign them.”

“Stede, I’m not signing your divorce papers while you fucking possess me.”

“Whoa, hold on, possessing?” Lucius shot to his feet, inching away from the chair nervously.

“Think it’s only me he can do it to,” Ed said as he got back on his feet, beckoning Stede over. 

“Are you sure now’s the time?” Stede asked.

“Can’t hurt,” Ed shrugged.

Stede sighed and then came over, reaching first for Ed’s hand and taking hold of it before sliding in, taking hold.

“You know, I wonder if this would have been awkward if we weren’t so close in height,” Stede said thoughtfully. “And I bet I could still sign my name the same. Lucius, mind if I borrow a pen and a bit of paper?” Stede asked, making Ed grin both literally and mentally.

Lucius slowly, carefully, took a pen from his pocket and handed it to Stede. He then took a post-it pad from a different pocket and handed that over as well.

“Thank you, my boy,” Stede said before putting pen to paper and signing his name with a flourish and neatness that Ed would have never, ever been able to pull off. “Ah, see! Like using my own hand.”

He beamed, showing Lucius the pad proudly.

Lucius looked at it. Stared at it, really. He blinked, then slowly met Ed’s eyes. He looked like he was about to say something, but then his eyes rolled back, and he promptly fell to the floor.

Stede and Ed watched him go, both a bit too stunned to move the body they were currently sharing.

“Think you broke him,” Ed finally said.

“I hadn’t thought signing my name would have been the thing that cinched the deal for the poor bugger, but then I suppose it is a fairly unique thing,” Stede said, glancing at the pad in his hand before tossing it on the table. “Should probably get him off the floor.”

“Don’t fuck up my knee lifting him,” Ed warned as Stede moved to get Lucius.

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises,” Stede replied as he knelt down, wincing at the pain that shot through Ed’s leg. “Fuck sake, Ed, you really need to do something more about this.” 

Stede pulled Lucius half-up, trying to support his weight on Ed’s chest while being mindful of the leg.

“I do what I can,” Ed argued as Lucius stirred slightly.

“You’re both talking,” Lucius mumbled in a daze. “You’re both talking, and I can hear the difference now. Please don’t both talk.”

From the way he slumped back to dead weight, Ed would guess he passed out again. 

“Here,” Stede said before departing from Ed. “You best handle him from here, you know how to work your body.”

“I certainly do,” Ed said as he hoisted Lucius and himself up. As he guided Lucius to the sofa, he smirked at Stede and said, “I can teach you how. Don’t even really have to wait ‘til we get you sorted.” He winked, causing Stede to blush in that weird way he was able to.

“Going to have nightmares now,” Lucius mumbled. “And need my own therapist.”

“Want me to leave you for now, mate?” Ed asked, patting Lucius on the knee until he cracked his eyes open a bit.

“Yeah,” He said in a daze, “Yeah, I’ll, umm… call or text you when I no longer feel like I’m about to need a padded room of my own. Should be, like, a day or two.”

“Alright,” Ed said with one last pat.

“And if you two do what you were hinting at, I don’t want to ever hear about it ever, not even as your therapist,” Lucius added as Ed headed for the door, making his voice carry as Ed shut it behind him.

“He’ll want to know,” Stede said confidently. “In fact, if you hadn’t said anything, he’d have probably assumed we’d already tried.”

“So it’s not completely off the table, then?” Ed teased, looking at the renewed blush on Stede’s cheeks from the corner of his eye.

“Take me to dinner, first,” Stede mumbled.

“I can do that. Even let you have a taste,” Ed said as they headed out of the office. He snatched his helmet up on the way by, tucking it back under his arm.

“Maybe not tonight,” Stede said as they made their way out of the building. “You should probably head home and rest that knee. I’m sure I tweaked it something awful.”

“Probably, yeah,” Ed agreed. “And now we have Lucius convinced, maybe he can help us with Mary.”

“That was the plan, wasn’t it?” Stede asked as they stood beside Ed’s bike on the sidewalk. “Get Lucius to believe you so you could talk to Mary about the living will?”

“It’s worth a shot,” Ed said, shifting his helmet to have a better hold on it. “She’s the one that calls the shots, right? So if she knows-“

“Ed, it’s something that needs to be followed through. It’s a legal document that I signed.”

“And that you regret,” Ed reminded Stede, but Stede shook his head.

“It won’t make a lick of difference. Mary could contest it all she wants, but-“

“Stede.”

Ed reached for him. Made to cup his face in his free hand and stopped when the warmth tickled his skin before he could pass through. 

“We have to try,” He said pleadingly, holding Stede’s gaze and silently begging him to understand.

“You’re right,” Stede said softly. “We can try.”

Ed didn’t think Stede really meant that. There was a resignation in his eyes that Ed didn’t like, and was pretty sure he remembered seeing just before Stede faded away in the past.

But he didn’t fade. Didn’t waver.

“Fucking right we can,” Ed said with more bravado than he felt before getting his helmet on and mounting the bike. 

He started the engine, revved it twice for fun, then when he felt the sensation of Stede holding on, he kicked off. Ed sped off for home like he was trying to outrun the mere idea that this whole thing could fail, and he’d lose Stede in the end. 

Which wasn’t going to fucking happen. Not if he had a say in it.

Chapter Text

It was a bittersweet punch to the gut every time Stede came to beside Ed rather than finding himself walking in his body tucked in a hospital bed at St Augustine. While he got to see Ed first thing, enjoy him waking and the smile that seemed only for Stede, it also meant there was less of a chance of getting to do it for the rest of his life.

His days might have only been filled with audiobooks and thinking over his many shortcomings, but they still pass far faster than Stede would have liked. He’s not entirely convinced he doesn’t sod right off and manage to come back to the same place he disappeared from because more often than not he hasn’t really paid attention to the narration coming from the stereo. 

His evenings were his time with Ed. There hadn’t been any further attempts at dates off the boat, but Ed also didn’t go out at night anymore. He’d spend them with Stede, would encourage Stede to take over his body so he could try whatever Ed was cooking since sandwiches and takeaway weren’t making an appearance anymore. They would still talk about everything and nothing, or watch something together in comfortable silence. 

Night after night, when Ed would go to bed and Stede would lay beside him, he’d be struck with the realization that this was everything he ever wanted and he wasn’t even properly experiencing it. 

And every morning when he found himself on that bed once more, Ed beside him either still asleep or waking up, Stede could practically hear the second-hand tick away how much longer he had left.

“I want to see me,” He said to Ed one night as he finished dinner. 

Ed frowned as he chewed, fork hovering over his plate of pasta as he hunched over the small table in the galley.

“I want to see how bad off I am,” Stede clarified.

When Ed swallowed, it looked more painful than it probably was.

“Stede, do you really wanna do that?”

“Yeah,” He said softly, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I do. I just… I want to know what the chances I might still-“

“Don’t do that,” Ed pointed the fork at Stede. “Don’t talk about chances or any of that shit. You’re gonna come to, and if you don’t, Mary’s gonna step in. ‘Cause we’re gonna convince her once Lucius is done his… processing.”

Lucius had been processing for a week, which is how Ed hadn’t had a session that afternoon. 

“I want to know, Ed,” Stede said earnestly. “I want to see for myself.”

“And what if it’s bad, huh?” Ed growled. “What if it’s fucking, awful? And there’re machines and shit.”

“There will be,” Stede conceded, his voice carrying a calm and confidence he did not feel. “But I have to see.”

Ed stared at him for a long, unblinking beat, and Stede braced himself for a fight.

They didn’t do it often, whether because they just got along that well or they subconsciously didn’t want to break the idyllic nature of their existence together just in case time was running out.

But Ed’s shoulder’s drooped, and he bowed his head, a single strand from where he had his hair tied back falling over his shoulder.

“Fuck, fine. Suppose if it were me, I’d be the same,” He looked at his plate and then, pushed it aside before herubbed his hand over his forehead. “Hope you weren’t thinking tonight, ‘cause I’m fucking beat.”

“I wasn’t,” Stede assured, feeling lighter now that he got that off his chest. “Sooner the better, of course, but still.”

He then noticed Ed wince as he straightened up, getting to his feet. He hobbled a bit to the sink, groaning as he opened the cupboard to toss the remaining noodles in the trash.

“Ed?” Stede asked, eyeing the knee he knew bothered Ed distrustfully.

“Yeah?” Ed replied with a gravelly, strained voice.

“Everything alright?” Stede asked with a knowing lilt.

“Yeah, fucking peachy,” Ed replied as he popped the plate in the dishwasher. 

“Mmm,” Stede hummed, noting the dip in Ed’s step as he pivoted to the fridge. “What did you do today that you weren’t supposed to?”

“Umm, forgot my brace when I rushed out,” Ed said as he opened the fridge, “nothing I haven’t done before,” He said from inside the appliance, resurfacing a moment later with a fizzy water. “Just gotta take a pill for it. It’ll be fine.”

“That will ease the pain, but it won’t do much for the overall condition of it.”

“It’s fine,” Ed insisted a bit more gruffly as he grabbed the pill bottle off the counter. Stede wasn’t sure what was in it, the label always facing the wall and mocking his inability to move anything. 

He still couldn’t see what they were now with the way Ed’s fingers wrapped around it, but he had a feeling they weren’t the sort you could simply purchase off the shelf at the chemist.

“You’ve been resting it an awful lot this week when you’ve gotten home,” Stede noted as Ed struggled a moment with the cap.

“Yeah, it’s been a bit worse than normal. Might have to try heat. Ice isn’t cutting it.”

Stede wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Ed with a proper ice pack, the man usually getting a bag of frozen vegetables or ice from the freezer to ease his aches. He didn’t want to know how Ed would plan on applying heat, but Stede certainly had an idea of how it could be accomplished.

Once Ed popped a pill and swallowed it down with a mouth full of fizzy water, Stede strode across the room, heading directly for Ed.

Ed smirked for a moment before he realized Stede wasn’t going to stop, and then his eyes went wide just before Stede took over.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Ed said as Stede reached for the hem of his shirt and peeled it off before making Ed stride toward the master bedroom. “Not complaining, liking where this is heading. Bit disappointed that it’s not gonna be a mutual thing.”

“Knew you were all talk,” Stede smirked as he entered the bedroom and then made a right for the ensuite. 

“Wait, this isn’t….” Ed trailed off as Stede turned on the facets to the large tub, flicking the stopper and beginning to fill it. It was only then that Ed began to actually fight him for control.

It wasn’t working as well as Ed probably hoped it would. Despite it being Ed’s body, Stede still held dominion. It just meant that the limbs felt heavier to move, like trying to work them while in an especially viscous liquid

 “Stede, come on, mate!”

“You need to take care of yourself. You need to relax, get off that knee for a bit,” He said as he bent Ed’s body to feel the knee for himself, though not without resistance that made Ed’s back ache as well. “Not swollen at least, so heat probably is the solution, as you pointed out.”

“And a bath is going to do that?” Ed asked as Stede continued to move about, able to ignore the twinge in Ed’s knee as he gathered up bath salts and oils. 

Stede opened one of the oils labeled for relaxation, took a sniff, and felt Ed stop resisting.

“Yes, in theory,” Stede stated as he brought the supplies to the tub.He lifted the jar of salts over the water and slowly turned. He waited before finally tipping the stuff into the water, giving Ed time to stop him. 

He didn’t. 

With a grin, Stede added the salts. “You can blame me for the frivolities if you want to.”

“Who the fuck is gonna know?” Ed retorted as Stede then added the oils.

“No one, I suppose,” He conceded before stepping out of Ed’s body.. 

Ed wobbled a bit, but the tub was large, and he was able to catch himself on the semi-wide ledge before he became too unstable. 

“I’m not going to be taking your pants off,” Stede told him firmly. 

“No?” Ed asked, to which Stede shook his head.

As Ed’s hands dropped to the button of his jeans, Stede found himself wanting to both look away and never tear his eyes from the sight.

Ed probably knew that, too, but the way he grinned coyly, eyes going a touch dark. “You sticking around, at least.”

“Well,” Stede cleared his throat, “i-if you want, I mean. I can, umm.” Ed’s pants came open, and Stede suddenly found the ceiling fascinating. “I’m sure there are bubbles or something you can add to the water. Or I could sit with my back to the ledge.”

There was the unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the floor as Ed chuckled darkly. There was movement in the water, and then Ed let out a groan that would have had Stede’s ears turning red if he had blood flow.

“Fuck right off. Fine, you were right, and this is the best fucking thing in the entire world,” Ed said, voice a hair deeper than normal just before the water turned off. 

Stede averted his eyes to the floor and shuffled his way to the tub. He then turned, lowering himself to the floor with his back to the ledge just like he said he would.

He then turned to look at Ed over his shoulder and grinned at the blissed-out expression on Ed’s face.

“Feeling better?” Stede asked knowingly.

“I haven’t taken a bath since I was a kid. Didn’t think to, really. Fuck, I might actually have to consider doing this regularly. Though, won’t be the same back in my place. Tub’s not as big.”

As Ed closed his eyes and tipped his head back, Stede’s smile slowly deflated.

“Right. You don’t, uh… actually live here.”

The silence hung heavy between them for a beat.

“I don’t gotta go back yet,” Ed eventually said, and Stede hadn’t realized his gaze wandered off into the distance until it snapped back to Ed. “Building manager called. Said repairs would be ready end of next week.”

“And that’ll be the end of this, I suppose,” Stede said, glancing down at Ed’s tattooed covered arm.

“I can stay,” Ed offered. “Your wife’s not charging a lot for rent. I’m good for a bit, won’t be pushing things if I stick around.”

“You’d only have about another week or two one way or the other,” Stede sighed.

“No, we aren’t talking about that. There is no glum shit or anything here. Just fucking peace and lavender, and good things.”

“The best,” Stede relented, eyes darting to the bird inked on Ed’s collar bone, to the designs on his chest. It clicked when the anatomy of it all registered that Stede’s eyes were beginning to trail further down than he ever meant to, so he snapped his focus back on Ed’s eyes.

They gleamed knowingly and mischievously. 

“So, I have never asked,” Ed said casually, “do you have any tattoos?”

Stede snorted, chuckling quietly and looking at Ed more out of the corner of his eye than anything. 

“I have one ,” He admitted.

“Where and what the fuck is it?” Ed asked eagerly, grinning as well with a curious light in his eyes.

“It’s here,” Stede tapped his left arm just below his shoulder. “A lighthouse. On our honeymoon, there was a lighthouse visible from the beach our hotel was on.”

“Wait,” Ed said, lifting a hand out of the water, droplets raining down from his fingertips. “You and Mary - who knew you were gay - had a honeymoon?” When Stede hummed in confirmation, Ed asked, “What the fuck do people do on a honeymoon when there’s no sex? I mean, I’m assuming here, so-“

“You would be assuming correctly,” Stede nodded once. “It was arranged by my parents, prepaid and all. I think they were hoping I would succumb to pressure and expectations, but… it worked out for both of us, Mary and me. She had no interest or desire for such activities, even if I had been her ideal husband.”

“Oh?” Ed quirked a brow.

Stede pursed his lips, debating if he should tell Ed. But the tattoo had a meaning that wouldn’t really make sense without the whole picture, and Stede knew in his gut that Ed could be trusted with such a delicate detail of his and Mary’s lives.

“She was already pregnant,” He admitted, watching Ed’s eyes widen. “Her parents knew, and I knew, but no one else. She wasn’t even supposed to tell me, but when I confessed to being gay, she confessed to her condition. I asked if she was being made to keep it and if she wanted to continue with the pregnancy. She said wanted it, considered it a weirdly happy accident, so we planned to wait a month after the wedding, and I would have claimed it as mine. It’s what her parents would be expecting, that I would be non-the-wiser and think the child mine. But she miscarried before we had the chance to initiate the ruse.”

“Fuck,” Ed stated, glancing around the bathroom before asking, “Why didn’t she just marry the dad, then?”

“Not from money,” Stede sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Like I said before, marrying among your fellow elites means less of a chance of being used for your wealth.” He turned his focus back to Ed. “If it helps, she didn’t love the man.”

“Well, no, doesn’t really. Both of you were dealt a bad hand.”

“I often think she had it worse. It’s part of the reason I didn’t begrudge her Doug.”

Ed hummed, then reached for Stede’s arm, fingers brushing the edges of Stede’s form where his tattoo would be beneath the clothes. 

“Tell me more about it?” He asked, voice lowering a hair. 

Stede tilted his head back as if he could have rested it on the ledge behind him.

“The lighthouse was a gorgeous thing, Mary absolutely adored it. Wanted to take a day trip to it, get up close. They had a gift shop there, and the lady who ran it got to chatting with Mary. Figured out we were newlyweds, went on about how we needed to be a lighthouse for each other, to guide one another in a storm. Personally, I think she was just trying to sell this massive sculpture of the thing, but the sentiment stuck for a bit.

“We returned from the trip, things were well, Mary and I went to her prenatal appointment and… nothing.” He glanced down where Ed’s hand still hovered at his arm, fingers listlessly moving as if he could stroke Stede’s arm. “Mary was a mess, understandably. I helped as much as I could, though I often felt useless. One thing I did, though, was have her art supplies brought to our room. The lighting was shit, and there was an expensive silk rug that was destroyed in the flurry of creation, but it helped Mary. 

“The first painting she completed after was of that lighthouse. She gifted it to me on our first anniversary because, apparently, I had done exactly what that lady had said: guided Mary through her own personal storm. It was the first real, meaningful thing anyone had ever done for me.”

“So you went and got it permanently inked into your skin?” Ed asked, not unkindly.

“I may not have loved Mary the way a husband ought to, and never would have. But she was my first real friend. And while we didn’t always get along with one another, I care about her a great deal and always will. I have had Alma and Louis’s names added to it to remind myself to guide them as well.”

“Most of mine were for a lark,” Ed said, looking down at his body. “A few have meaning, history or heritage or whatever. Some traditional Maori ones, ma’s name in a heart. None are that deep, though.”

“Well, I like them,” Stede admitted, looking over the expanse of ink he could see above the water. “I think they suit you.”

“Cheers,” Ed said, leaning back and closing his eyes, seeming to relax further into the tub. 

“Don’t fall asleep,” Stede teased.

“Why the fuck not? You could just take over and haul me out if I risk drowning.”

“I’m not a tow service, Edward,” Stede huffed but grinned anyway. 

“You got me in here, you get me out.”

“I got you to here. You’re the one who removed the remains of your clothing and got in the water.”

“Yeah, well, would still be your fault if I fell asleep in here. Beat as I am, sore as I was. Fucking perfect storm to get me to drift off.”

“I’ll keep you awake, then,” Stede reasoned, and Ed cracked open one eye a smidge to look at him.

“How you gonna do that?” He asked curiously.

“I’ll sing. Really loudly.”

“What if it’s a soothing song?”

“It won’t be. It’d be spunky, upbeat.”

“Spunky, did you really say fucking spunky?” Ed snorted, “fuck, you’re mental.”

Stede grinned back at Ed, wanting nothing more than to be corporal so he could give him a literal elbowing. Or brush some of the loose hair away from Ed’s face. Or just touch him for the sake of it, to feel the texture of his inked skin.

Instead, they talked about music, then musicals, and on and on until the water grew cold.

~E~

This was not at all how Ed wanted to spend the morning before going into work, but Stede had asked and Ed was sure at this point there was little he wouldn’t do for the man. 

So Ed made his way through St Augustine hospital, having texted Lucius beforehand and requesting he take a break from his processing long enough to tell him where to find Stede.

Well, corporal Stede, anyway. Non-corporal Stede was following close behind, head ducked and hands clasped behind his back as he moved.

Ed, however, kept his head held high. He strode like he knew what he was doing and where he was going, and no one seemed to question it. Either they were too busy to notice or didn’t seem to find his dark jeans and t-shirt out of place. He had his hair tied back in a bun and made sure his beard wasn’t too wild, so he was probably more presentable than he’d normally care to make himself.

He’d memorized the room number before they showed up on the floor, and went right for it, only stopping when they got to the closed door.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Ed asked Stede over his shoulder, offering one last chance to back out. 

Stede looked a bit like a deer in headlights as he stared at the door to the private hospital room.

“Yes,” He said, clipped like if he didn’t say it he never would. “Yes, I think… yes. I’m ready.” He gestured to the doorknob and then turned his nervous gaze to Ed.

Ed nodded, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Machines steadily beeped and whirred, filling the otherwise silent room as they stepped inside. Ed couldn’t look at the bed right away and instead diverted his attention to the rest of the room. Not that there was much to look at, just what would normally be in a hospital room: a few cards, a single bouquet of flowers that looked like it had seen better days.

“Oh,” Stede said, and Ed turned to see the not-ghost Stede standing over the actual Stede with horror.

Not that Ed could blame him, though. The Stede he’d been familiar with these last few weeks was warmth personified. A slight glow to his skin, hair always styled just so. Brown eyes that shone with warmth.

Stede in the hospital bed hooked up to machines was pale, still pretty banged up and bruised. His right arm was in a cast, a few child-like scrawls marking the pristine white of it. His left ankle was bandaged up, too. His hair was a telltale shade or two darker than it should be and a little flat against his head, the curls limp. And somehow, Stede in a hospital bed looked smaller than the one who looked over him in horror, like the few weeks being laid up diminished the breadth of his chest and shoulders. 

 “I’m in quite a state,” Stede said, eyes practically bugging out of his skull. Well, his not-ghost skull. Stede in the bed’s eyes were closed.

“Seen worse,” Ed said. Which wasn’t a lie, though probably not the best thing to admit right now. “Still look pretty good, though. Even with the tube shoved in your mouth.”

“I wonder if I can somehow reconnect with myself,” Stede mused before attempting to climb on the bed.

He didn’t drop, which had him looking a bit more hopeful before he laid down, disappearing into where his physical body was.

Ed’s gaze darted between the monitors and Stede, heart starting to ramp up speed in his chest with each second that passed when the Stede he was used to had yet to surface.

Then, Stede emerged from himself with a heavy sigh.

“Nothing,” Stede said as he swung his legs over the side and stood up. “Couldn’t do a damn thing.”

“Sorry, mate. Probably how these things usually go,” Ed said, then shrugged at the withering look Stede gave him. “Look, it’s fine. You’re here, you see how you are. Still kicking, vitals are probably good.”

“I look two feet away from death,” Stede said as stepped past Ed, waving dismissively back at his body without looking at it. “It’s quite clear the only thing keeping me from traveling that short distance are the machines.”

There was resignation in Stede’s tone that clawed at Ed’s chest, making him a bit panicky and helpless simultaneously.

“Can’t think like that,” Ed said over his shoulder before turning back to the Stede in the bed.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” Stede asked with bitter sarcasm. 

Ed turned toward him slightly, seeing Stede had wandered over to the gifts set on a table by the window. He wanted to hug the bastard until that sad, mournful turn to his smile was gone, leaving only the warmth and joy Ed had seen most.

And yet he wouldn’t be able to even touch Stede, not a brush on his arm or shoulder, not a pat on the back. A hug was really fucking out of the question. Except….

Ed frowned down at the corporal Stede in the bed. At the too-pale skin and the lank curls. How even two feet from death, as Stede would say, Ed still found himself attracted to him. Stede couldn’t connect to himself, but Ed had to wonder if maybe….

He glanced at non-ghost Stede again, seeing him looking over the flowers someone brought in, his attention firmly away from Ed.

Watching not-ghost Stede, Ed slowly, hesitantly, put his hand over corporal Stede’s hand and squeezed gently.

Not-ghost Stede startled violently.

“Wha-“ He spun around, looking from Ed’s hold on his physical body to his corresponding hand in awe. “Do that again,” he choked out, and Ed happily obliged.

Stede’s eyes welled, even though it shouldn’t be possible, and the smile he gave now was wide, bright, and hopeful as he chuckled. 

“I can feel that!” He cried out happily. “Ed! I can, I can feel you-“

The door to the room was half-slammed open, and Ed’s hand released Stede’s and went for his pocket where he kept the switchblade on instinct.

A bald man in a white doctor’s jacket stopped short at seeing Ed.

He narrowed his eyes, and Ed’s grip on the handle of the knife tightened.

“Visitors to this patient are heavily restricted. So who, do I dare ask, are you?”

“Jeff,” Ed said on reflex. “I’m an accountant.”

“Right,” the man said. “And exactly what is the relationship you have to this patient, Jeff the accountant? Hmm?” His eyes fell to where Ed’s hand was stuffed in his pocket. “If you’re the press-“

“I’m a friend,” He blurted, glancing briefly to Stede and noting he was looking horrified at the doctor. “A good friend. Best, really.”

The doctor, who at this point had been stoic while bordering on menacing, cracked a grin before snort chuckling a bit. He barely pulled himself back together in order to be more professional when he spoke again.

“A friend? Really? I find that rather hard to believe.”

“Why’s that, then?” Ed asked, a little bit of his former self from his younger days creeping into his tone.

“Because bab-Bonnet doesn’t have friends. Never has. Even his wife has hardly been in to visit.”

“Really?” Ed asked, looking pointedly at the cards and flowers.

“It’s all for show,” the doctor said, barely giving them a glance. “Wife brings the children by so they can leave a card for daddy dear in case he ever wakes up.”

“And what are the chances of that, you think?” Ed asked, inching toward the man, getting close enough to see the embroidery on his coat read Dr. Chauncey Badminton, MD .

Chauncey? Really?

“I’m not at liberty to discuss it with you. His friend ,” Chauncey gave him a once over, equal parts puzzled and disgusted with Ed. 

“Right, guess I’ll just go ask Mary about it, then. Say hello to Alma and Louis while I’m there,” Ed said with a shrug.

“You do that,” Chauncey replied. 

Ed and Chauncey continued to stare one another down for a bit, neither seeming ready to move.

“Ed,” Stede said after a bit, making him flinch slightly. “Come on, let’s go. Nothing more can be done here.”

“I’ll be back,” Ed promised them both, giving Chauncey a bit of shove with his shoulder as he walked past him and out of the room.

“I can’t believe my medical care is in the hands of Chauncey Badminton,” Stede said the moment they left the room, his pace quick to match the brisk stride Ed had toward the elevator. “If it weren’t for the Hippocratic oath, I’d be far more concerned with my health.”

“Why’s that?” Ed mumbled as he punched the call button for the elevator, glancing up at the numbers overhead.

“Chauncey and his brother Nigel were the leaders of a gang of bullies who took a particular interest in me from the beginning. I wasn’t free of them until university, and even then, I would have to endure their presence at social gatherings I was forced to attend in the Bonnet name.” Stede explained.

The elevator dinged cheerfully, the doors sliding open to reveal an empty lift. Ed stepped on, hitting the lobby and then the close door button to make the damn thing move faster.

As soon as the doors were closed, he turned to Stede.

“Tell me that Mary knows this?”

“Well, she does. At least that he was awful to me. But I wouldn’t worry too much,” Stede said with a shit-eating grin and a tilt of his chin.

“Why’s that?” Ed asked.

“Because Chauncey has failed to make attending three times, now. And I am well aware that the head of his department, Doctor Higgins - a lady I have had the absolute pleasure of speaking with at countless benefit galas- would have his balls in a jar on her desk if he were to make a careless mistake regardless of the degree.”

“That’s a bit of a relief. And a touch terrifying.” Ed frowned as the left slowed to a stop.

“She is,” Stede said cheerfully as they made their way back through the lobby. “She had to have her right eye removed a few years back. Instead of allowing them to dispose of it, she had it preserved, and it sits in her office. It’s a power move.” A bit less cheerfully, Stede added, “there are other things that I think best not mentioned. I wasn’t being hyperbolic when I mentioned the, um….”

“Fucking glad it wasn’t her I ran into, then.”

“Indeed.”

They reached Ed’s bike, and he popped the seat to get his helmet out.

“I gotta head to the restaurant in an hour. Do you want me to take you home first, or…?”

“I’d like to come with you if I could.” Stede glanced at the hospital. “I’d like to spend as much time with you as I still can.”

“Stede,” Ed started but didn’t continue when Stede raised his hand, asking him to stop.

“We’ll still try all the mad schemes you come up with. See and speak to whoever we need to. But if it doesn’t work-“

“You could feel me touch your hand. There’s still a connection there, mate.”

“I know,” Stede said, a hint of a smile in his eyes as he spoke. “And that, surprisingly, gives me hope. But if it doesn’t work out, I want… I want to have had all the time I could have had with you. Even if it’s just watching you work.”

Ed huffed and grinned, “fine,” he said before pulling the helmet over his head. He waited until he felt Stede against him before starting the engine and heading off to work.

Chapter Text

Evening shifts were strange in that, to Ed, they always felt like they were running backward. Coming in just before the dinner rush, working through it, slowing down until what he dubbed the “snack hour” in his mind when appetizers were ordered in abundance like lunch specials during the day. Then instead of prep, it was clean up, and then everyone would slowly trickle out until it was just him left. 

He would do what prep could be done ahead of time for the following day, ensure everything was exactly where it needed to be, and the morning shift would know what the specials for the day or week would be depending on Ed’s mood.

The cleaning crew that came in would take care of the front, the staffroom, and the offices, usually leaving before Ed finished up and cleaning around him.

Normally he would find these nights a little lonesome if he didn’t have a distraction. But for the last couple days, he had Stede.

“You’re alright?” Stede asked when the last of the cleaning crew was definitely at least out of earshot.

Still, Ed glanced at the door they’d headed through, back through the dining room as if he could see where they were.

“Yeah,” He answered, slightly clipped. “It happens.”

Cringing a bit, Ed recalled when he had absolutely lost it on one of the evening shift guys. An order was made wrong, which may not have been an issue, but the fucker Gabriel had had the audacity to tell Ed that it wasn’t a big deal. Casual as ever, like he didn’t think it mattered whether or not he followed instructions. Ed may or may not have raged. There may or may not have been a knife in his hand when the anger bubbled up. It may or may not have been driven into the counter next the where the fucker had his hand.

Ed had no idea what happened to Gabriel afterward, what Izzy had said to him when he dragged him out of the kitchen. He wasn’t even sure if Gabriel was still on staff, but the blatant disregard for the instruction was pretty much insurance he wouldn’t be before the week was out either way.

The worst part was after Izzy dragged him off, Ed’s eyes fell on Stede, and he got to see them wide and a touch fearful for the first time. 

It hadn’t occurred to Ed when Stede started tagging along that he could see him like that. The ruthless Blackbeard who would have no qualms about slicing off the insolent asshole’s hand and saying it wasn’t a big deal. He rarely was that guy over the last year. Harsh, strict, of course, but not… that.

Stress. He wanted to chalk it up to stress. Lucius taking his sweet fucking time wrapping his head around the idea that Stede was there, wasting precious seconds, hours - days, really - where they could be convincing Mary and getting that fucking living will nullified or whatever. The hospital room where Stede was being nearly impossible to get back into so they could see just how much of a connection Stede still had. Because Ed still had to do things in the day-to-day and not be so fucking aware of how little time was left.

But it wasn’t just the stress, and Ed knew that as much as things were staking up, he couldn’t blame his actions on it. He had a reputation; people who came to work in his kitchen knew the risks. 

“Perhaps a bath has been well earned?” Stede suggested, and Ed couldn’t help but snort.

“You trying to get me naked?” He asked, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

“Where would be the advantage?” Stede’s tone was coy, and Ed looked over his shoulder to see a half-hearted smirk paired with a blush. “All I can do is look.”

“Looking can still be fun,” Ed let his gaze linger slowly as he looked Stede up and down.

“I’ve been wearing the same suit for almost a month. Nothing’s changed. There’s nothing here to see.” 

“I beg to differ,” Ed returned to cleaning the counter, running the cloth over the line where the knife went in more than needed. He’ll need to have it replaced, which was going to be a bitch. It meant having a crew come in overnight and either he or Izzy remaining in the restaurant while they worked to lock up after. He wouldn’t ask or expect anyone else to pick up that slack, especially since it was his mess that caused it.

“He could have killed someone,” Stede interrupted his thoughts, making Ed pause his unnecessary wiping with a frown.

“What?”

“That man, whatever his name was. The one you yelled at. He could have killed someone. Yes, I’m sure the modification was inconvenient, but it could have been more than simply because the customer doesn’t like them. Allergies are strange like that. Alma is allergic to spinach. We thought she just didn’t like it when she refused to eat it, but after attempting to hide it in a smoothie, we learned that was certainly not the case. It’s not life-threatening, but that’s not the point.”

“You’re right,” Ed said, tossing the rag down and turning to Stede. Crossing his arms, he said, “he could have fucking killed someone. But I could have handled it better.”

“Do you really think that if he triggered an allergic reaction that the person involved, their loved ones, would believe it an honest mistake?” Stede asked as he mirrored Ed’s posture. “You have a reputation you need to uphold, and he could have ruined it very easily. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you drove the knife through his hand. Maybe then he’d remember that he can’t just ignore a request because he’s busy and it's inconvenient.”

“You’re endorsing maiming?” Ed smirked.

“If it had been my child he served a dish he was too lazy to change to and it hurt her? I’d have threatened far worse than maiming.”

Stede said it with such a casual tone, such utter nonchalance, that Ed could almost picture him holding a butter knife to Gabriel’s throat. He could practically see the easy way Stede would turn the innocuous, otherwise harmless utensil into something deadly to protect his kid.

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Ed admitted before turning back to the counter. “And yeah, sure. Bath. Soak the knee. Use some of those yummy lavender salts that are kicking around. Hey, that’s a thought,” he said over his shoulder, noting that Stede grew amused with him, “I wonder if they make something like that for food? Lavender salt or some shit.”

“What would you use it on?” Stede mused, lip twitching as he tried not to smile.

“Dunno,” Ed admitted, with a shrug, moving on to the next counter. “Could do something like lavender potatoes? Something roasted.”

“Just don’t buy a crate of the shit,” Izzy’s voice startled Ed, heart shooting up in his throat momentarily and making Stede yelp. 

The little shit didn’t appear in the doorway for another second, but when Izzy did, he had a grin on his face that someone might have called affectionate if they had to label it. 

“Just, ya know, talking things through,” Ed shrugged.

“As a crew,” Stede added merrily. When Ed looked at him over the shoulder, he seemed so bloody pleased with himself that Ed had to snicker a little.

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” Izzy said as he came to stand on the opposite side of the counter where Ed was cleaning. He placed his hands, already in their leather driving gloves, on the very edge of the counter, arms spread wide to support his weight as he leaned in. “Been a while since I got to see the legendary Blackbeard at work.”

“Fuck off,” Ed bit out, returning to his cleaning with a touch more aggression.

“You enjoyed it,” Izzy stated. “You liked having that French knob fucking shaking in his thousand-dollar shoes. I mean, what kind of idiot wears thousand-dollar shoes in a fucking kitchen?”

“Depends on the shoes,” Stede commented with a grumble.

“I didn’t fucking enjoy it,” Ed said to Izzy. “’Cause now I gotta arrange a crew to-“

“Already done,” Izzy interrupted. “Called them up as soon as I chucked the tosser out and told him to hope I don’t call every fucking restaurant in the city and make sure no one hires him. They’ll be in Thursday night. I’ll stay.”

Ed sighed, losing some of the fight Izzy was stoking in him. “Thanks, Iz.”

“Anything for you.”

Ed tensed at the way he said it. Each word dripped with longing, making it painfully hard to ignore when it was just the two of them and someone Izzy couldn’t see. 

“Offer’s still open,” Izzy said after Ed let the silence and the weight of the words carry a beat too long. “If you don’t want to be on the boat-“

“Iz, it’s….”

Complicated? Izzy wouldn’t buy it like Jim did. He was too black and white for that shit and didn’t think outside his box. To Izzy, Ed was single and living alone on a boat while his apartment was being fixed, and without giving him a name and real history, Izzy wouldn’t believe there was anyone Ed was involved with.

Ed hadn’t realized he’d ducked his head, avoided looking at Izzy until he felt the soft, supple leather of Izzy’s driving gloves lightly caress the back of Ed’s hand.

He pulled away like it burned him, then, without looking back, stormed from the kitchen and headed for his office. Roughly, he tore off his chef’s coat along the way, tossing it on his chair when he realized the cleaning crew had already been by and hung up a new one for him. Ed grabbed his leather jacket and shrugged it on, storming back through to the kitchen and passing Izzy without looking at him. 

“Ed.”

“Night, Iz,” He said rougher than he would have liked before shoving open the back door and storming over to his bike. 

It wasn’t until he had his helmet out that he stopped and took a breath. Ed pulled in deep lungfuls of the cool night air, forcing himself to calm down.

“He really loves you,” Stede said kindly. “More than I thought originally.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Ed replied.

“I noticed,” Stede passed through the same hand Izzy touched and waited a beat before he took control and made Ed’s hand clench. “But I can understand why he’s found himself in such a state. You’re remarkable.”

“Right now, I don’t feel anything but tired,” Ed said as he turned to look up at Stede, grinning as best he could since he couldn’t squeeze back. 

How ridiculous would he look if he leaned in and pressed his lips to the edges of Stede’s? What would someone passing by - or really, Izzy - see if he tried to kiss someone who wasn’t physically there? And would either of them feel it aside from that pleasant tingle? Probably not the way he’d want to since Ed couldn’t exactly feel Stede taking over. Fuck, would it just sort of have Stede take control of his mouth?

Before Ed’s thoughts could get away from him too much, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He went to grab it with the hand Stede still had control over, signaling to the other man that Ed wanted his hand back. Once Stede let go, Ed grabbed the device and answered it after barely seeing who it was.

“Yeah?”

“Right, yeah, so. Hi,” Lucius started on the other end of the line. “So, umm. I know I said a day or two, and I swear that’s actually all it took for me to wrap my head around… all that. Umm, but while I was, ya know, dealing with the fact that my best friend is apparently haunting you while not being dead, I reached out to Mary.”

“What?” Ed asked, hearing the back door to the restaurant open and close, Izzy leaving for the night.

“Yeah, she’s been busy. What with being the sole Bonnet left with any ties to Stede that’s capable of making sound decisions. But, I finally managed to convince her to let me and a friend come over tomorrow for lunch. Kids will probably be home, but that’s… whatever. They’re terrors, but I love them.”

“Tomorrow?” Ed parroted back, a grin stretching wide enough to hurt. “Fucking yes! Fuck, you’re just… so fucking great. I could fucking kiss you right now.”

“Well, you’re hot, and I appreciate it. But we’re still sort’ve, ya know, in a more professional than personal relationship for the time being.”

“What time?”

“Umm, twelve? Somewhere around there. Stede could give you directions, I’m sure.”

“Fuck yeah, he can,” Ed said before he and Lucius said goodnight.

“What is it?” Stede asked as Ed spotted Izzy watching him from his car a few spots down.

“What we’ve been waiting for,” Ed told him quietly, grinning wider as understanding lit Stede’s face. 

Izzy chose that moment to get in the car, slamming the door shut more roughly than needed. He started the engine and sped off almost instantly, probably doing damage to the engine.

“Let’s get home,” Ed said as the squeal of the tires faded into the night. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

~S~

“Oh, fuck off,” Ed said as he looked up at the house Stede had called home for the last decade and a bit.

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” He winced, glancing at Ed from the corner of his eye.

Stede had learned enough about Ed before and after the accident to know that he didn’t exactly grow up in comfortable conditions. That the wealth he now had he had to work tooth and nail for, and even then, he might not have ended up where he was if he hadn’t inherited the restaurant. 

While the house he and Mary occupied during the marriage wasn’t as large as the one either of them grew up in, it was much larger than what a typical family of four required. 

“I mean,” Ed hedged, shrugging. “Maybe? I dunno, just… shit, I forget your rich a lot of the time.”

The front door opened, and Lucius popped his head out. It sent a wave of nostalgia through Stede, remembering those summers when Lucius would stay with them. How it took some time, but the boy grew to feel very much at home among the Bonnets. How he would do that exact thing - stand half out the door with his hands on his hips and an expectant scowl - whenever Stede took a little too long to get from the car to the house at the end of the day.

“Are you gonna just stand there and gawk, or are you gonna shuffle in here?” He called to them, snapping Ed out of his stupor.

“Yeah,” he said, fidgeting with the purple shirt he pilfered from Stede’s auxiliary wardrobe. Something with a collar and buttons to make himself look a bit more presentable and cover the tattoos on his arm.

Stede had told him it wasn’t needed, nor did he really have to park down the road out of sight, but Ed was set on it all.

Nerves, Stede understood. Not just for the high possibility that this was all going to be for nothing, but also because this was Ed meeting Mary as someone connected to Stede.

Lucius gave him a sympathetic grin as Ed walked past, offered a whispered, “hey, Stede,” to the left of where Stede was actually standing, then closed the door behind them. “So,” he began as he led them into the sitting room, “Mary’s finishing up something in her office. The kids are around, somewhere,” he waved his hand about dismissively.

Ed took in the space with a frown, turning about and seeming to take in every inch of the room.

“Doesn’t look anything like somewhere you would live,” He commented while turning to Stede.

He shrugged, “It’s mostly Mary’s taste when it comes to knickknacks and art. The base of it was done by an interior designer. My office was the only place that looked anything like the boat.”

“I like the boat. Boat feels like a home,” Ed said as he glanced around.

“This is like trying to be part of a phone conversation when you can’t hear the other end,” Lucius commented dryly before plopping down in one of the armchairs. “I’d sit with you on the sofa, but I don’t want to, like, sit on Stede or something.”

Ed snorted as he made for the sofa, turning to sit just before Mary came striding into the room.

She looked tired, which was saying something considering how much their marriage took a toll on them both. She was still lovely, of course. Mary was always a bright-eyed beauty who Stede could only ever describe as cute because of her button nose and rounded face. But he knew from hearing the coveting whispers that Mary was a catch even at her worst. 

Lucius had either warned her that Ed wasn’t the fancy type, or the effort to appear more put together was lost on her for the time being. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she was in a simple but well-tailored black t-shirt and beige linen pants. It was the real Mary, the one only her husband, her lover, and her children got to see properly.

“Hi,” She said as politely and warmly as she could while still being apprehensive. “Edward, right? Lucius told me you’d be coming today.”

Mary offered Ed her hand, and he took it with only a beat of hesitation.

“Ed’s fine,” He said as he shook gently.

Mary gestured for him to have a seat, and he dropped back on the sofa where he was about to before she came in.

Stede dropped beside him, resting a hand against Ed’s left knee in hope of providing some comfort.

“So,” Mary started, hands clasped on her lap, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ed glanced at Stede, but Stede could only smile in encouragement. Ed then turned to Lucius, who floundered a moment.

“It’s about Stede,” Ed blurted, which had Mary tense.

“Stede?” She repeated. “I… I don’t think I told you his name when I rented the boat to you.”

“You didn’t,” Ed said, palms running over his thighs. “I, umm… fuck, I don’t know how to do this,” he turned to Stede then instead of Lucius, which Stede noted had Mary utterly confused.

“Say what you were going to say to her,” Stede encouraged. “You must have had a plan.”

“Course I had a plan,” He grumbled before turning back to Mary, who now sat far more rigidly. “I know him. Sorta. We, uh… we didn’t meet in person before the accident, but, um-“

“Wait,” She said, frown deepening. “You were the one Dr. Badminton told me about. The one that went to see him with a clearly fake name.” 

“Shit,” Stede cursed when he heard the tone Mary was starting to take.

“Stede’s here, right now, in this room, probably sitting by Ed,” Lucius rushed to say, probably having picked up on the dangerous tone as well.

Mary shot him a look that had the boy sitting a bit farther back and then turned that cold, harsh gaze on Ed.

“Is that what you think? Are you some sorta psychic or something? Tricking Lucius into believing it and then coming here to, what? Ask for money or something?”

“No,” Ed spat, face twisted in revulsion. “The fuck would I want your money for? I’ve got money enough to shake a stick at, mate, I don’t need yours.”

“Then what is it you want, huh?”

“For Stede to live,” He shot back. “I want you to make sure he stays on life support.”

Understanding momentarily softened Mary’s features, but Stede recognized the steel in her eyes well before it came through in her words.

“You’re the one who hit him, aren’t you?” She stated with such utter certainty it made Stede’s stomach drop at the possibility. But he knew Ed couldn’t have, not if he was waiting at a cafe for Stede to show up. 

“Wasn’t me,” Ed bit back.

“Why else would you come here and tell me to keep him on life support, then? What could you possibly gain from it other than making sure he doesn’t die?”

“Mary,” Lucius tried to interrupt, but a quick glance from her silenced him again.

“I’m gonna call the police, now,” She told Ed as she stood up, reaching in her back pocket for her phone.

“He has a lighthouse tattoo!” Ed rushed out, which had her pausing with pursed lips.

“Yeah, he does,” She said condescendingly. “And you’ve been to the hospital to see him unauthorized, so you could have seen it before you were caught.”

She turned her focus to the screen.

Ed turned to Stede with pleading eyes. “Can I say the thing you told me?”

“No,” Stede said flatly, panicking a bit himself as Mary began to dial.

No, Ed couldn’t bring up the miscarriage, couldn’t let a secret that was really just Mary’s out in front of Lucius. But there was one that they both shared, that Stede hadn’t told Lucius and doubted Mary had at well. 

He could tell Ed, have him relay it, but he also had a feeling the information would stump Ed a bit too long.

Stede shifted into Ed, ignoring his protest,  and blurted, “Alma and Louis were conceived via IVF.”

The second the words were said, he shifted out of Ed, allowing him full control of himself once more. 

Ed turned to Stede with eyes as wide as saucers, and Mary stood stunned with her fingers hovering over the touchscreen.

“You haven’t had sex in ten years?” Ed asked incredulously.

“Technically closer to twelve,” Stede confessed morosely, “with a partner, anyway.”

“How did you know that?” Mary asked, voice a little hollow.

“Stede. Just now, told me,” Ed said, wisely avoiding that Stede said it himself. He tilted his head at Stede as he spoke, but Mary didn’t pull her eyes away from Ed.

Ed glanced at Stede, gesturing to Mary with a tilt of his head.

“She takes her coffee with four cream and four sugar, but halves it when her mother’s around.”

Ed repeated what Stede had said, making sure to look more to him than to Mary as he relayed it. Stede watched Mary for them both. He could see with all the little details that Ed couldn’t know, and Lucius probably hadn’t noticed that she was becoming more and more uncertain of what to believe.

As Ed spoke, Alma and Louis came into the room, looking curiously at their mother, who had yet to remind them they couldn’t be in the sitting room when non-family guests were visiting. 

Then Louis looked at Stede and frowned.

“Father?” He asked, and Stede felt like his breath caught.

“Louis? You see me?”

“Louis?” Mary asked, snapping out of her trance.

“I thought father was in the hospital?” Louis asked innocently enough.

“That’s because he is, stupid,” Alma said without any heat.

“Alma,” Stede said at the same time as Mary, both chiding their daughter.

Alma’s gaze flitted right over Stede and landed on her mother.

But before that smart-mouth young woman that Stede adored could say anything that would get her in further trouble, Louis pointed right at him.

“But he’s right there. And he’s not all purple from the bruising.”

Stede tried not to smile, he really did, but it was a losing battle from the start.

“You see your dad right now?” Ed asked Louis kindly. He nodded shyly, seeming only to just notice Ed now. “How about we play a game?”

“What sorta game?” Louis asked hesitantly.

“Your dad is gonna hold up some fingers, and on the count of three, you and me are gonna say how many at the same time.”

Louis pursed his lips pensively for only a moment before nodding, creeping closer to the sofa.

Stede held up three fingers in front of his grin, and Ed asked if Louis was ready. After he got confirmation, he counted to three, then they both said the number. They did this a few times, and while they weren’t in absolute perfect sync, it was near enough that it couldn’t be faulted.

“Alright,” Mary said after six rounds, voice breaking a moment and causing her to clear her throat. “Alright. Louis, Alma, um….”

She pressed her hands to her pale cheeks, looking almost as lost as she did on their wedding day.

“You guys want some lunch?” Lucius offered, getting up from the chair. “I’m, like, starving here and could really use a peanut butter sandwich.” 

Stede smiled at him even though he knew Lucius couldn’t see. The suggestion of food - and something both children could make at that - was enough to get their attention and draw them away. Stede knew from experience that there would be crumbs and smears of peanut butter all over the kitchen. Mary would likely be cursing the boy by the time she saw it because there would likely also be jam or fluff or any number of other things the three of them could think to put in a sandwich. But for now, it got the children out of the way and allowed Mary to process what was happening.

She sat in silence, hands still pressed to her cheeks. As she did, Ed would fidget, look around the room, look to Stede, who could only offer him a smile. Once, he took control of Ed’s hand to squeeze it, but didn’t dare do that too much in case Mary thought Ed was getting aggressive.

“You see him,” She said after a bit. “And apparently so does Louis.”

“One other guy, too, down at the marina. No one else, from what I can tell. He’s been coming with me to work the last week, and he’s been with me to a pub. No one else saw him.”

“Okay,” Mary huffed. “Right, so… I don’t… I don’t understand why you’re here, then? Why do you want to keep him on the machines.”

“Because I want him to live,” Ed replied imploringly. “And he’s gotta wake up to do that, you know? Like, to properly live. He’s my best friend, has been for a while  now.”

“Really?” Stede asked, getting that warm smile of Ed’s turned on him for a moment. He nodded, and Stede had to say, “I feel the same.”

“You said you hadn’t met.” Mary broke the moment, fleeting as it was.

“In person. We were talking a lot before,” Ed corrected. “Online, chatting and stuff. He was the best part of my day.”

Mary gave a sad little grin. “I think he told me about you, then. He was really looking forward to meeting you.”

Then her face fell, and she looked at her hands as she wrung them.

“Oh, no,” Stede said as he caught the movement.

“’Oh, no?’ What’s ‘oh, no?’” Ed asked, looking between Stede and Mary for context.

“It’s, um….” Mary started, then with resolve, she turned to face roughly where Stede was sitting, her focus above his head.

“Stede, I spoke to Doctor Badminton this morning. It’s… there’s no sign you’re going to wake up. He said keeping you on life support is only drawing out the inevitable. That it would be more humane if we… if we took you off it sooner.”

“What?” Ed asked, voice breaking. “But he said that shit doctor hated him.”

“Yeah,” Mary agreed, turning her focus to Ed. “But Evelyn, his boss, is my best friend. She’s been looking over the test results Badminton’s been bringing her and she agrees. Chances are Stede’s not going to wake up.”

Chapter Text

When they returned to the marina, Ed stormed ahead. He’d been quiet on the ride back, and Stede didn’t exactly know how to help him.

The end was soon. Tomorrow, in fact, which had surprised Lucius as much as it did Ed. The poor boy left the house in a bit of a daze, talking about telling Oluwande, Frenchie, and the others. 

Stede had sat and listened to what Mary was going to do: bring the children to see him in the morning, then send them off with Doug so she could sit with Stede for as long as it took. She had said Lucius was welcome to be there, what with them considering him family, and extended the invitation to Ed as well. Stede knew how much he mentioned him in passing before he’d known who Ed was and was grateful to Mary for letting him come say goodbye. 

Ed stayed long enough to promise Mary he’d be there and would stay there until Stede was gone, and then he left.

He didn’t say a word or even react at all after he left the Bonnet residence, and it was beginning to frighten Stede.

“Ed,” he tried to stop him once they passed the security gate.

“I can’t right now,” he said without looking at Stede. “I have to call the restaurant, tell them I won’t be in tonight or the next couple days.”

He headed for the yacht without looking back, and Stede slowed to a stop at the foot of the blank. Best to give Ed space, even if it meant losing precious time with him.

“There’s a change about ye,” Buttons spoke, startling Stede.

He looked to the right, and sure enough, there was the man with a pair of seagulls perched on his shoulders. 

“I’m dying,” Stede told him bluntly.

One of the seagulls squawked. 

“Karl doesn’t think that’ll happen,” Buttons said ominously. “You got a good sorta glow about ye. Sort that means good luck.” 

“If you say so. But my wife, we just came from seeing her, and she said-“

“It was a black car, ya know. The one that hit ye. The sort rich folk have. Olivia’s been asking about, and the birds, they know.”

Stede blinked, completely and utterly unsure what to do with that information. 

“Alright,” he said, looking at the bird that hadn’t squawked earlier. “I appreciate the investigation, but I don’t think it’s going to matter much.” 

“Aye, probably not,” Buttons agreed solemnly. “But sometimes it’s good to know these things. If yer about to move on - and I ain’t sayin’ y’are - best not to have business left unfinished.”

This was said to Stede pointedly, Buttons flicking his gaze briefly to the yacht.

“That obvious?” Stede deadpanned.

Buttons, instead of dignifying that with an answer, turned and walked away, most likely heading to his own boat. 

Stede sighed and turned back to his yacht, looking at the beautiful thing and realizing he wasn’t going to be stepping foot on it again, not in person. He hoped Mary would give it to Ed, seeing as he was already leasing it from her, and she now knew what he meant to Stede. 

Well, not quite, he supposed. She probably didn’t know he loved him. 

He should tell him. If he was running out of time, Stede should tell Ed that he loves him with everything he is. That he was so incredibly grateful he got to meet him even without being corporal. 

But then, well, that would be cruel, wouldn’t it? To be told someone loves you as they’re dying. And while Stede didn’t think he was such a large portion of Ed’s life that his absence would really make a difference, he did vividly recall how he encountered Ed when he first found him on the boat. That was when Ed thought he’d been stood up. Stede couldn’t imagine what might happen if he confessed his feelings to Ed hours before he could pass on.

Much as he wanted to continue giving Ed his space, Stede didn’t want to be standing out on the dock too much longer. There was no telling how long he could go this far away from Ed, and whatever was tying him to the boat before he lost time.

He found Ed below deck, sitting on the sofa. His elbows were on his knees, head bent with his hands in his hair. On the coffee table was a hearty tumbler of brandy, and his phone beside it with the screen lit.

“I don’t fucking understand. The hell you mean you aren’t going to be around for a few days?” 

Izzy. 

Stede grit his teeth at the sound of the angry tone, wishing he would be heard when he told Izzy there wasn’t anything for him to understand.

“I mean, I’m gonna be fucking gone. I already called Jim and Roach, told ‘em to expect me to not be about. Even called Fang, he’s gonna come in and help out. Come outta retirement as it were, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it.”

“And you gotta do all this because…?” Izzy asked over the line.

“Because I fucking do, and it’s none of your fucking business, ain’t it?” Ed growled, body uncoiling to stand and loom over the coffee table like getting to his feet allowed his voice to project louder, angrier. 

“Ed,” Stede said gently, wanting to cross the room, pull Ed into a comforting embrace, soothe him. But he couldn’t. And he never would.

Stede swallowed down his heartbreak and held Ed’s eye, hoping to convey that it was alright somehow. 

“Someone better be fucking dying if you’re gone for three days,” Izzy grumbled.

“As a matter of fact, someone is. So if you would kindly piss off, I was only informing you as a courtesy so you would leave me the fuck alone. Your number’s gonna go on silent for the time being.”

“Ed, who’s-“ 

Despite Izzy sounding genuinely concerned, Ed had jabbed the screen hard and ended the call before jabbing it again and shutting it off.

“Was so much more fucking satisfying when these things had actual fucking buttons,” he said. Ed snatched the tumbler off the coffee table and downed it before going to the wet bar and refilling it.

“I’m sure he means well,” Stede said gently.

As Ed scoffed, Stede briefly imagined Izzy comforting Ed. Holding him, kissing, offering Ed the support Stede had never been able to.

“Izzy keeps thinking of me as the man I was twenty years ago. Hasn’t realized that just because he hasn’t changed that the rest of us aren’t still the same.”

“For some people, it’s hard to let go. The monotony helps them, keeps them grounded. So much so that they don’t even see it for what it is.”

“You know how fucking bored of all this shit I was before I started talking to you,” Ed said, turning to look at Stede with a fierceness that pierced Stede’s heart. “Bored out of my skull, wondering every day if this was all there was. Just work, drink, sleep. Then I found you, and… fucking hell, Stede, I wish I had got the fucking nerve to ask you to meet earlier. Look at all the time we fucking wasted holding off.”

“I had my reasons,” Stede reminded him with a smirk.

“Yeah, but we coulda met at the restaurant! Coulda had you at the bar, or some shit asked you to bring friends, so it didn’t seem like you were stepping out on your wife.”

“Lots of things we could have done,” Stede agreed. “But we’re outta those, now, aren’t we?”

Ed didn’t answer. He just stared at Stede with that intense, piercing gaze of his for a long time.

“What do you want to do?” He asked. “Last day on Earth. If there’s one thing you could do one last time, what would it be?”

“Well,” Stede pursed his lips as he tried to fight off a smirk, knowing his face was probably a little pink.

Ed guffawed, head thrown back as he let it out.

“Yeah, suppose I’d say the same given everything I learned today. But what’s something that I could do for you? Like, is there a museum or some shit I could take you to? Wanna see your library one last time?”

“That’s very tempting,” Stede admitted. “But given that Lucius likely went there from Mary’s….” Stede looked out the porthole at the waves lapping at the neighboring boat. “It won’t be the same, but I would love to be out on the water. I didn’t get much of a chance to do it before everything, and now….”

Ed nodded once, “then let’s fucking weigh anchor.”

~E~

“This feels weird,” Stede said.

Ed chuckled. The pleasant sensation of Stede inhabiting him mixed with the ocean breeze coming off the water, making him feel happier than he should. They were probably just on the edge of the harbor, neither wanting to risk Mary somehow having the yacht GPS tracked resulting in harbor patrol coming after them. Especially with Buttons at the helm, the man offering to help Ed - and by extension, Stede - get the bigger boat out on the water. Ed probably could have done it himself, but why risk it?

Especially when he could offer Stede him, the chance to possess Ed and feel that wind, take a deep breath of salty air even if he didn’t get the full effect.

“Why’s it weird?” Ed asked.

“Because I’ve never had a beard, let alone one as magnificent as yours,” Stede said, using Ed’s hands to stroke the slightly coarse hair. “Feeling the wind through it is strange. And of course, your hair. Never had long hair, either.”

“Suppose it’d be weird, yeah,” He said as he looked out over the sunset. They’d been out for hours, taking advantage of the beautiful day. 

Ed had gone down below earlier, and made a light dinner for two, allowing Stede to take control to taste Ed’s portion despite Buttons watching them warily. 

Ed’s pretty sure the strange bird man had gotten used to it in the hours they spent together. The casual way Ed would let Stede inhabit his body for a moment or latch on to his hand in a mockery of holding it.

“Thank you, Ed,” Stede said before separating himself from Ed, stepping to the side. He continued to look out to see the way the golden light glittered off the waves. 

“Wasn’t any trouble,” Ed assured.

“No, I mean, thank you for everything.” Stede turned then, giving Ed a smile that should have been tinged with sadness but wasn’t. “For your friendship these last few months, for the time you allowed me to stay with you these last few weeks.”

Ed scoffed, “Didn’t exactly have much choice, you know.”

“I know, but you could have ignored me after that first night, pretend I wasn’t there. And you would have been in your right to, really. Eventually, I would have stopped trying to talk to you, knowing I wouldn’t get an answer, but Ed-“

“You don’t have to thank me,” He cut in, terrified of what more Stede would say. 

Ed’s heart pounded in his chest, the swell of love and fear overwhelming so much of his senses. He didn’t want to hear the goodbyes in Stede’s tone, even if there was something more to it. He didn’t want to imagine a world where he would have ignored the man he’d fallen so hard for because it was easier than wrapping his head around the fact that his spirit - or whatever - had made its way to him.

He couldn’t have this moment watching the sunset, on a belly filled with wine and good food, be tainted with any sort of farewell or regret. He just wanted to remember it for what it mostly was and what it should be: romantic as fuck.

“We should probably be heading back in,” Buttons called from the helm. “Navigating the harbor gets harder at night if you don’t know where ya goin’.” 

“Right,” Ed said, lifting a hand to clap Stede on the shoulder and remembering himself almost a moment too late. He turned away to help Buttons bring the boat back in, watching Stede from the corner of his eye as much as he could.

~*~

He hadn’t wanted to sleep. What Ed had wanted more than anything was to stay up all night, lay beside Stede in the big, comfortable bed, and just look at him. He tried after going through his nightly routine. He opted to wear the same robe he pilfered the first night, his boxers, and not much else. He was going for the most comfortable he could be if he were going to put his body through strain by refusing to give it the rest it craved.

But at some point, he drifted off. So when he startled awake to the sunrise, his heart broke at the realization that he had wasted hours sleeping. 

“Fuck,” He cursed, rubbing his hand over his face. Then he rolled over and found the bed empty. “Fuck!” He panicked, scrambling off the bed and looking around the bedroom.

It only took him a second to clue in that Stede wouldn’t leave a sign that he was still around and ended up tearing out of the bedroom looking for him.

He heard strange voices in the living room and froze, debating for a moment if he should go back for his knife. At least until he heard Stede speak as well.

“I wish you knew how much it meant that you came here,” He was saying, and Ed crept down the hall, tying his robe as he went.

When he stepped into the living room, it was to see Lucius, Jim’s partner Oluwande, and a guy he didn’t know but felt he should recognize standing in the middle of the room.

“Sorry,” Lucius said to him when he spotted Ed. “We didn’t want to wake you.”

“So you just crept onto the boat, knowing full well the sort’ve things I’m capable of doing?” Ed asked in a deadpan.

“Ed,” Stede chastised, though the smirk ruined the effect.

“Well, I mean… I assumed Stede would be here, somewhere, and well….” Lucius shrugged, gesturing around.

“He’s there,” Ed gestured to where Stede was standing only a few feet away from the group. “He was saying it meant a lot that you all came when I came in.”

“Not even sure we should be here,” the unknown bloke said. “What with the fact that ghosts are bad luck and are usually a sign that a witch has cursed the person or place where they reside.”

“Sure it’s safe, mate,” Oluwande said to him before turning to Ed. “I can’t say I believe Lucius, and I swear, I won’t tell Jim. But I figured on the off chance that this was all… real, well.”

“He’s here. He hears you, just,” Ed gestured between where Oluwande was and where Stede stood, then moved past them to get to the galley and brew a coffee.

He only realized Lucius was following when he got there, too tired to pay enough attention, he supposed.

“What, not gonna let Stede do that thing where he speaks through you for them? They’re his friends, too,” Lucius reminded Ed as he went about making the single-serve cup.

“Yeah, and are we wasting the little time we got left explaining to yet another person - or people - what was happening?”

“Actually, you never explained it to me or Mary. And I highly suspect you let him slip in or whatever for that little moment where you dropped the bomb about the children. Which is something even I didn’t know, by the way. All I had to go on was a drunk Mary saying that conceiving the kids wasn’t exactly pleasant but probably could’ve been worse.”

“Yeah, I did,” Ed said in a clipped tone.

He felt Lucius stare at him for a long time while the coffee machine hummed and hissed, spitting out the dark liquid into a mug. He stayed silent as Ed went about adding cream, even letting him take a drink of it before speaking.

“You should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Ed asked darkly.

“How you feel about him,” Lucius told him, half in his kind therapist voice, half like Ed was a fucking idiot.

“Right. Right, yeah, sure, let’s go over all that like a fucking hour or so before he could be ripped away,” Ed spat before taking another drink, burning his throat a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be better if you did?” Lucius offered more kindly this time.

“If it were your boyfriend, what would you do?”

Lucius shrugged, “there are no secrets between me and Pete. I never wanted there to be. The second I realized my feelings for him changed, I told him. We had frank discussions about what it could all mean.”

“Right, and were one of you going to die that day?”

“We could have,” Lucius pointed out. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? Stede was on his way to see you, and then he was hit. His whole life changed in a blink.” He paused, taking a deep, steadying breath that only hitched a little. “Not a lot of people get the chance to choose the last words they say to someone. And if they do, they usually, probably, don’t know for certain that they’re being received.”

“Can’t do it,” Ed said flatly, taking another long drink from the mug before setting it on the counter.

Lucius sighed but nodded once. 

“See you there, then,” he said as he turned to head out the galley.

Ed stood alone in the room, listening to the cadence of the voices in the living room without hearing what they were saying. He stayed there until he could hear three sets of feet heading across the deck above, then went to get ready for the worst day of his life.

~*~

He should have said something. As they left, as they rode to the hospital, while they were still alone in the elevator. Ed could have, should have said a dozen different things to Stede, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Stede didn’t look sad or scared, just resigned as he followed alongside Ed. Maybe resigned was a good thing. He didn’t want to have Stede terrified as his last memory of him.

When the elevator doors opened to the hospital floor Stede’s room was on, there was a subdued sort of feel to it. People still carried on with their work, and visitors still roamed the hall, but there was a much different vibe to everything.

It made Ed shudder and made him want to turn around and walk right back on the elevator.

Then he spotted Mary talking to that fucking Chauncey dick, and Ed steeled himself. 

“Ah,” Chauncey said in a patronizing tone as Ed approached. “Jeff, the accountant.”

Mary frowned but apparently decided it wasn’t her place to correct him.

“Chauncey the doctor,” Ed said in return. 

“Lucius is bringing the children down to my… Doug.” Mary hedged, clearing her throat.

“I know about Doug,” Ed assured her, and Mary’s shoulders dropped some of the tension she was carrying.

“I hope she marries him,” Stede said thoughtfully as Mary asked Chauncey to go over what was going to happen one more time. 

Ed focused on Stede instead, deciding he didn’t want to hear what was about to happen, not wanting to know the step-by-step manner in which they were going to end Stede Bonnet’s life.

“I hope she finds the happiness with him that she should have had in married life. And to give the children a father figure, not like I was the best sort as it was. I wish she hadn’t sent them away before we got here, but I suppose it’s better this way.”

Ed glanced at him, seeing the sorrow in Stede’s eyes even if he didn’t express it. He reached for Stede’s hand, brushing through it, trying not to be too hurt when Stede didn’t latch on. 

Stede gave him an apologetic grin, but it was a brief thing that seemed more out of habit than sincere.

Mary and Chauncey went into the room, and Ed couldn’t bring himself to follow. Not yet, He didn’t want to see the disconnection, knowing he’d probably start fighting the doctor to stop it.

Turning away from the room a moment, Ed caught sight of Lucius as he stepped off the elevator.

Spotting Ed across the nurse's desk, Lucius started to head toward him.

“Have they started?” he asked when he was close enough not to shout.

“Yeah,” Ed managed to get out.

“Let’s go in, then. Come on,” Lucius said as he put his arm around Ed’s shoulders. He turned him, guided him into the room, and made him face the bed where Stede lay prone.

The non-corporal Stede made his way around the bed to stand on the opposite side of his body from where the people he cared most about stood.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Mary said with a slight crack in her voice.

“Say whatever you want. He probably can’t hear you,” Chauncey said in a bored tone at the foot of the bed.

“You might be surprised,” Lucius said in a bit of a sing-songed tone, and Mary snorted softly.

“Suppose that’s true. Then I guess…. “ Mary lifted her gaze from the prone Stede to Ed. 

He didn’t want to go first, didn’t want to be the one to start the goodbyes. But then he realized that Mary wasn’t looking to him for that, but more for guidance. As subtly as he could, Ed pointed to where Stede was standing across from them.

 Mary didn’t quite get it right, looking just off to the side of where Stede was. But the sentiment was there. 

“I know we never would have chosen each other, not in a million years. But you were a good friend, Stede. And a great husband, or at least as great as our circumstances allowed. I’ll miss you,” She said, putting a hand on Stede’s arm, squeezing it.

Stede frowned.

“I can’t feel that,” Stede said in a rush, the stoic sadness and acceptance he had a moment ago beginning to shift to terror.

The monitor, while not racing, gave a loud beep as his heart rate dropped a little more.

“I probably thanked you for everything you did for me so many times your sick of it, but I’m gonna say it one more time,” Lucius said, putting his hand on Stede’s leg.

“Can’t feel that either,” Stede panicked, looking from his non-corporal leg to where Lucius’s touch rested. As he started breathing heavily and quickly, so did his physical self.

“And you were, like, painfully annoying, and overbearing, and just a lot,” Lucius continued on with a hitch in his voice. “But you were also like the brother I didn’t have, and you looked out for me and took care of me, and I love you forever for it. So, yeah, thanks.”

“I don’t wanna die,” Stede whimpered, meeting Ed’s gaze over his body as the monitor took another terrifying dip.

Without hesitation, Ed reached for Stede’s hand, the physical one within his reach, and held it tight.

Stede’s eyes went wide, a touch of hope appearing in them even as the monitor took another dip.

“I feel that,” He said, smiling wide. But no sooner did the relief wash over him did Stede begin to fade out.

The monitor dipped again.

“Oh, just get on with it,” Chauncey grumbled, and Ed glanced at him to see he rolled his eyes to the ceiling. The doctor crossed his arms and actually fucking sputtered like a petulant child who was bored and whining about it.

Ed squeezed Stede’s hand hard.

“Ed,” Stede got his attention again, and he was a lot more transparent than he was a moment ago.

Ed’s heart lurched, realizing that this was the end, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. He couldn’t barter or plea with anyone to save Stede, couldn’t step in front of this and protect him from it. It was coming whether either of them wanted it to or not, and he was running out of fucking time.

“These past few weeks have been the most fun I’ve had in ages. Years, even,” He told him, making sure Stede was looking him in the eye as he uttered every word. “And having known you for as long as I did, even if not in person… I wouldn’t trade that for anything.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat, willing himself not to cry, not yet.

“Ed,” Stede said softly, knowingly.

Ed shook his head. “I don’t wanna let you go, but I know I gotta. Just… while I had you? You made m-,” He choked, glancing at Chauncey and seeing him eye Ed suspiciously. Clearing his throat, Ed looked at Stede again and said, “you make Ed happy.”

“Who is that? A pet or something?” The doctor scoffed.

But Ed didn’t look away from Stede as he beamed a watery smile at Ed.

“You make Stede happy,” He said softly, fading out a little more. “Goodbye, Ed.”

“Don’t go yet, mate,” Ed pleaded, but Stede was fading a lot faster than he had been. 

It clicked then that the monitors were starting to sound not so great. Like they did on TV when the person attached to them was going to cark it.

Ed said, “no,” but he’s pretty sure the word came out with no sound. He looked to the monitor, to the barely visible version of Stede, to the version of him in the bed.

Then, impulsively, stupidly, brilliantly, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Stede’s.

Dry, yet still softer than his own, Ed poured all the love he had for Stede into that simple press of lips to say how he felt as well as goodbye.

“Oh!” non-corporal Stede gasped, making Ed tighten the grip he had on corporal Stede’s hand.

Only Stede gripped back.

The monitors sounded like they went back to normal.

What the fucking fuck?!

Pulling away, Ed looked at the monitors and saw that they were, in fact, back to a healthy range.

“Oh, my god. Did he just Snow White Stede? He totally Snow Whited Stede,” Lucius said as Stede took in a deep breath.

Stede’s eyes blinked open, blurry and not as bright as Ed had gotten used to. But they were looking right at him, dazed but very much alive.

Ed chuckled wetly. “That was a close call, mate.”

Stede blinked, then frowned. “Was it?” He glanced over to where Ed knew Mary was, then his focus darted to where Lucius was hanging about. Stede’s gaze fell to where their hands were still locked together, then back up at Ed. “Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t… don’t know who you are.”

“What?” Ed said softly, searching Stede’s face for any hint of recognition. But there wasn’t any at all. 

Ed let go of Stede’s hand like it burned, his stomach dropping, and his heart launching into his throat.

“Stede, it’s-“ Mary started to explain.

There had always been a chance, hadn’t there? Stede hadn’t remembered the last week of his life when he was a not-ghost. Why should it be a surprise that he didn’t remember Ed at all when he was suddenly completely whole and alive?

“Fine,” Ed cut Mary off gruffly. “It’s fine, he doesn’t… it’s fine.” He jerked to leave, finding he couldn’t just yet. “I’ll, umm…,” He threw a thumb over his shoulder before looking back at Stede. “Glad you pulled through, mate.”

“Edward,” Lucius started to say, but Ed waved him off. 

“I’m going to get pissed,” He said over his shoulder, adding that to the laundry list of things they’d probably have to talk about in therapy when he saw Lucius again. If he saw Lucius again.

Stede was alive. There would be no black for Ed to wear, no stuffy service where he’d have to choke down his grief while he sat in the back away from the posh knobs who attended out of obligation instead of any real mourning.

Stede was alive, but Ed still had a huge part of himself die in that room.

There was a bottle of brandy he was going to drown himself in before he packed his shit and left the boat, apartment ready or not.

Chapter Text

Ed recalled Fang telling him about the five stages of grief. Vaguely, mind, because it was something Fang had picked up through therapy or a support group he went to after his dog, Cuddles, died. He was trying to be supportive, but his lack of love for dogs and his uncertainty over how to handle the situation had him only half paying attention.

He couldn't be sure what they actually were, but as he sat in the wreckage of the yacht’s living room, he had a pretty solid hunch that anger was one of them.

He’d rode like a madman from the hospital to the boat, already missing the sensation of Stede on his back. Already knowing he would likely not feel it again. And on some level, he was glad for it. Stede was alive and whole, and Ed should be so happy, but he selfishly couldn’t find it in himself to be so.

He doesn’t remember the walk from the parking lot to the yacht. Has only a vague recollection of pouring a drink and going to the bedroom, throwing his shit in his bags while he drank. 

The last thing he remembers clearly is shoving his hands in his jacket pocket and making contact with the whale paperweight. He remembered taking it out, looking at it, running his hands over it as he recalled the joyful smile that lit Stede’s face when he finally left the yacht. One second, Ed’s heart broke and tears sprang to his eyes, the next, he was throwing it across the room and smashing a picture frame in the process. It all just snowballed from there.

Now, Ed’s sitting on the floor, the coffee table turned over, brandy decanter and tumblers in shards on the floor with the liquor dripping down the wall. The CDs were scattered around the stereo, their cases probably cracked in places, and bits of cotton fluff still floating in the air where a couple a pillows faced and ultimately ended Ed’s wrath.

In retrospect, it was a pretty shitty thing for him to do, trash the living room because Stede couldn’t remember him. He warned Ed in his own casual way that he may not remember anything that happened while he was a not-ghost. There was chances of him knowing who Ed was was always going to be slim to none.

But then, Ed’s never been known to be reasonable when he was angry - hence how he ended up in therapy.

“Shit,” he said, putting his hands in his hair and pulling hard. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to get up, clean up, or do anything to make any of the things he’d just done right.

“Well,” Lucius’s voice startled him, but he didn’t look up. “At least you haven’t stabbed anyone.”

“Still early,” Ed quipped back. “You volunteering?”

“No, not really. Never been good with pain.”

Ed could see Lucius pick his way across the room in his peripheral vision before the therapist carefully lowered himself to the floor on Ed’s left. Lucius grumbled something about his back, which made Ed think of his knee but couldn’t find it in him to care how much it fucking hurt. 

“So,” Lucius started. “You left before the drama began.”

“Drama?”

“Oh, yeah, it was epic,” Lucius said in a conspiratorial way. “Not long after you left, that doctor who was overseeing Stede’s care? Yeah, threw a fit, shouting ‘he was supposed to die!’ Which, wow. I mean, the shock of it all. Anyway, wasn’t ‘cause he was surprised, was ‘cause he planned it.”

That got Ed’s attention, and he finally looked up to see Lucius with bright eyes and a hint of a smirk.

“He was the one who hit Stede in the first place.”

“What?” Ed said under his breath, but Lucius must have heard it because he nodded.

“Yeah. Was tipped off where Stede was heading and rammed him. Fled the scene. When he took Stede off the ventilator,  he loosened a couple of the wires from those pad things they stick to your chest to make the heartrate wonky. And, apparently, he ordered a very lethal dose of morphine to be given to Stede a couple hours after they took him off the ventilator. Doctor Higgins noted it when she was going through charts. The guy had faked the reports for Stede, copied them from another dying patient on the ward and changed the name, handed them to Higgins. She stormed the room just as Mary called for security.”

“How… how was Stede?” Ed managed to ask.

“In shock. They ended up sedating him, the whole,” Lucius flapped his hand about, “it was going to be bad for him. But he’s off the machines and everything now, so. He’s doing great.”

“Yeah, course he is. Doesn’t know who the fuck I am,” Ed lamented.

“No, he doesn’t,” Lucius said gently. 

They sat together in mutual silence for a few minutes, Ed grateful for the quiet comfort while simultaneously hating it. 

“He really liked you,” Lucius told him gently. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him again. Even if it’s not as Stede reaching out to Ed.”

~*~

After Lucius left to go inform the library staff about Stede’s escape from death, Ed cleaned up his mess. He ordered replacements for what he could, asked for them to be shipped to his place so he could make sure they got to the boat, then called his landlord.

The apartment was ready two days ago, which he would have known if he had checked his voicemail. So, Ed grabbed his shit, left a note to apologize for all the broken things, in case he couldn’t replace them before Mary or Stede came back, and left.

It was so empty in his place. So quiet and lifeless, but then that was probably because he went through the last month essentially living with someone.

The cabinet where he kept his liquor hadn’t been touched, which meant he still had a full bottle of mostly decent rum he could chug back while he wallowed in his loneliness. He could, Ed realized, try to work more of his anger out on his own shit, but he didn’t have the energy. 

So he sat on his sofa and drank. 

~*~

When Ed and Jack broke up, he spent a week on a bender. It wasn’t that he loved the man, but the infatuation was so deep that it felt like it sometimes. And Ed, who hadn’t had a good, healthy example of how to deal with emotional turmoil in his whole fucking life, had decided to drink.

He’d like to think he’d matured since then. But from the way he spent the days he had already told the restaurant he’d be out -and a few more days he only informed Roach or Jim by text he wouldn’t be there - it was pretty clear that he hadn’t.

It was the arrival of the packages he’d ordered to replace the shit he destroyed that snapped him out of it. He couldn’t bring himself to go back to the boat, so he’d sobered up enough to call Lucius and ask him to help out. Then cleaned his apartment before his probably former therapist could judge him for the multiple empties - both alcoholic and takeaway alike.

“Did you see the papers?” Lucius had asked when he arrived, politely ignoring the smell of liquor Ed knew still clung to the air.

“Haven’t been to work, so haven’t been to the little shop where I get one,” Ed told him as he finished rounding up all the packages Lucius was supposed to bring to the yacht.

“Well, turns out that Chauncey wasn’t just murderous for the sake of it. He blames Stede for his brother’s death a year or so back.”

Ed frowned. “Huh?”

“Yeah, apparently, they were at some sort of party together. You know, posh knobs and all. The sort my own parents keep trying to claw their way into. But, yeah, anyway. Nigel? The brother? Was harassing Stede all night. Just being the absolute worst, as he usually was. Got increasingly drunk, then apparently demanded Stede drive him home because Stede rarely if ever drinks at those things. When Stede refused, Nigel left on his own and, well….”

“The fuck,” Ed huffed, leaning on the counter where he put the boxes.

“Yeah, so fucking weird. I remember that, too. ‘Cause Stede had a bit of a meltdown, feeling like he was the reason behind it. But really, who would get in a car voluntarily with the ass that made your life hell? I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, feeling the hangover properly starting to take hold. “How… how is he?” 

“In and out,” Lucius told him with a gentle smile. “More in. He’s still really beat up from the accident, and his wrist didn’t set quite right, so they had to bring him back into surgery before it healed wrong. But he’s no longer in long-term care, just in the regular hospital ward.”

“Good,” Ed said with a slow nod.

He wanted to ask if Stede had asked after him but figured it was best not to. If he had, Lucius surely would have led with that. 

“I’ll get these boxes to the boat,” Lucius said as he patted the top one. “Mary hasn’t been there, so I’m pretty sure Pete and I can get everything replaced, and she’ll never know.”

“Thanks, mate,” Ed said, the headache starting to take hold.

Lucius stared at him for a long beat, then said, “Shower. Drink some water, eat something decent. Get back to work. It sucks. It’s all just awful. But he didn’t die, he just doesn’t remember you.”

“Feels like it’s a fucking death still.”

“Well, what if it’s not a death? What if this just begins again?”

Ed furrowed his brow and peered up at Lucius through his lashes.

“Give him time, Ed.”

And with that, Lucius left.

~*~

There was nothing from GentlemanPirate on any of the platforms he used to talk to Stede before. Not that he expected it because Lucius was keeping Ed pretty solidly in the loop. There wasn’t any denying that they were definitely no longer therapist and patient, but that didn’t stop the boy from acting like it when he’d call or drop by Ed’s place.

Not that Ed was there all that often, picking up his slack by working opening to close on a daily basis once he got back. It was easier that way, made him too fucking tired to even look at a liquor bottle and allowed him virtually no time on his own to think.

No one said anything when he returned, but there was a sympathetic look from Jim. It made Ed want to put a hole in the brand new counter, but he refrained from acting on it. That shit was expensive, and people might ask what his fucking problem was.

Izzy seemed delighted, which at least kept him off Ed’s back. It occurred to him that they hadn’t seen each other face to face since the night he stormed out of the restaurant. The night they fired Gabriel and Izzy had been pleased to see the old version of Ed for a moment. It also occurred to Ed that he hadn’t unblocked the bugger's number on his phone, so if Izzy had tried to contact him during his bender, Ed didn’t know.

Not that he would have wanted to hear whatever Izzy had to say, anyway.

“Ah,” A new waiter said as they came hesitantly into the kitchen, looking at the pad in their hand. “I, um….”

“Spit it out,” Jim snapped. “Bit busy in here.”

“We have a VIP?” The waiter stated in confusion just as Izzy came into the kitchen from the office.

“The fuck you mean we have a VIP? We don’t do that shit,” He said as he snatched the pad from the waiter’s hand. “Who the fuck is S. Edwards anyway?”

Ed froze, his heart shooting into his throat as he was seized by a sensation he could only describe as his soul leaving his body. Then his feet were moving before he was even aware of it, bringing him over to the waiter and Izzy and snatching the pad from Izzy’s hand.

Two children’s meals, the salmon, a pasta dish, and a special.

“Who ordered the special?” He asked, his body vibrating with hope.

“Uh, a blonde guy? Should probably know he has a cast, so-“

Ed tossed the pad back to the waiter and stormed back to his station. “I’ll be bringing that order out personally, understood?” He shouted over his shoulder before going to the fridge and getting out very certain ingredients. “And no one better make the fucking special for that order, I have it.”

When he walked back out, Izzy was watching him with narrowed eyes. 

“The fuck is all this?” He asked as calmly as Izzy could manage as he moved to stand beside Ed. “Special is haddock, not your fucking jam dish.”

“Marmalade, for fuck sakes. It’s like pulling teeth with you sometimes. And I know it’s fucking haddock, but I also know the VIP, so I’m making this.”

“Who the fuck is it, then? We don’t give special treatment to people.”

“Yeah? So Ivan and Fang always having a place at the bar? That’s just something we can do for them every night, then?”

Izzy scowled but then stormed off, leaving Ed to work.

He hadn’t actually come up with sides to go with it - what with his not having touched the thing since the not-death of Stede and ended up using some of the things they already would have had going to round out the meal. When the collective order was ready, he had it loaded up on a spare tray, took a breath, and left the kitchen.

His heart thundered as he made his way through the restaurant, weaving his way over to the table and avoiding the confused looks from the other staff he passed. 

When he arrived at the cozy, rounded booth near the back of the restaurant, Ed’s breath caught in his throat.

There was Stede. Definitely still not back to his normal, vibrant self. Really, he looked like the whole outing was draining him, but he put a smile on for the sake of his family. Mary was there, too, with who Ed could only guess was Doug. Alma and Louis were seated in between their parents, who were chatting amiably until Mary noted his arrival.

Her eyes went wide and bright, a smile tugging at her lips that she subdued before glancing at Stede.

Stede looked over, met Ed’s eyes, and…

Nothing. No recognition whatsoever.

Well, a little bit of a once-over, but it didn’t feel quite the same without Stede knowing who he is.

“Oh,” Stede said, eyebrows raised, “you’re not our waiter.”

“Nope,” Ed said, stepping up to the table and lowering the tray. “Just, uh… yeah. Who had the salmon?”

Mary gave a tentative signal, and Ed went from there. Louis was chanting about chicken tenders, so the kids' meals were easy to sort. Then Ed turned to Stede, watching him far too carefully as he slowly lowered the plate.

Stede grinned, a bemused twist to it and a sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the plate.

“That’s not what they said the special was,” He said, looking up at Ed from the corner of his eye.

“Chef’s special. Not on the menu yet. Thought you might want to try it.”

Stede beamed, picked up his fork, and blushed.

“Can’t eat as properly as I normally do,” he explained to Ed as his fork hovered at an angle over the chicken. 

“You got a good reason,” Ed said with a gesture to the splint and sling attached to Stede.

“Just got out of the hospital today. This is the first non-hospital food I’ve had in… a while.”

Ed waited with bated breath as Stede broke off a small morsel and popped it in his mouth. If Ed could kiss the bastard and have him suddenly come back to life, then surely tasting something he had experienced through Ed should do something, right?

But instead of a magical, fairytale moment when Stede dropped his fork with a clatter and turned to him in wonder, he merely hummed in delight.

“This is incredible! It almost tastes like this marmalade I can get at the farmer’s market.”

“I, uh… that’s where it came from,” Ed said, realizing only a moment later that Stede didn’t say where at the farmer’s market, and Ed shouldn’t know where he meant. Or who specifically, anyway. 

“Well, give my compliments to the chef. It’s wonderful,” Stede said with a polite smile that Ed knew as a dismissal if he ever saw one.

He forced a smile, gave Stede a gentle clap on the shoulder, and said, “will do.”

He returned to the kitchen, finding himself pausing in the doorway a moment as the riot of emotions he’d managed to suppress all week tried to bubble over. No beginning, still just a death. 

Taking a breath, Ed glanced up at the kitchen, seeing most of the staff in it looking at him with varying degrees of worry.

“Get working, you dogs!” He barked out, snapping everyone’s attention back to their work. 

He gave himself only a few more seconds, then Ed put on a glare, and got back to work himself.

~*~

At the end of the night, Ed kind of wanted to toss out the whole crate of marmalade. He wanted to take something heavy and smash every fucking jar until all that was left was sticky glass and the smell of lemon. 

He kind of wanted to go back into the computers and erase the indication that Stede Edwards, or Thomas, or even straight up fucking Bonnet was anyone special. Ed had made that note in the before times. Or was it the in-between times? That small period where Stede knew Ed as Ed that was sandwiched between the times he didn’t know who Blackbear1718 was.

Ed also wanted to drink, but that would be stupid and a waste, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. The hangover from the bender lasted nearly three days, and it was still fresh enough in his mind that Ed had little to no desire to experience it again so soon. Add to that that he would literally be following in Hornigold’s footsteps, sending himself into an early grave with drink, and it was enough to make him want to stay sober for a little while longer.

So Ed stayed behind in the kitchen and stared at the pantry where he knew there was a crate of marmalade he could take all his feelings out on. He also knew that it would be a waste of fucking money and not exactly good for the bottom line if he kept destroying shit in the restaurant. Or his savings, for that matter, if he kept breaking shit that needed replacing.

“I’m not sure what’s going on with you anymore,” Izzy said from somewhere behind Ed. Likely the doorway of the kitchen, though Ed couldn’t be arsed to turn around and look at him. “You’re the best there is, you’re a distracted mess. You’re a drunk, then you’re on top of your game again. You’re coming up with shit like you haven’t in years, then do nothing with it for a couple weeks only to make it for some twat.”

“Piss off, Iz,” Ed said without feeling.

“But after that, you were you again. You were-“

“I was what?” Ed asked, halting whatever Izzy was going to say. He straightened up and turned around, finding Izzy far closer than he expected. 

From just a couple feet away, Izzy searched Ed’s face for something as the two of them stared each other down. He must have found it, because a moment later Izzy’s features softened as much as he would ever let them.

“You were magnificent,” he said in awe. “Barking orders, having every single fucker in this room on edge.”

Ed narrowed his eyes.  “Is that who you think I am?”

“It is who you are,” Izzy said, impassioned, inching closer to Ed, creeping into his personal space. “You are Blackbeard. You are glorious. You bring everyone to heel and show no fucking mercy. You have a reputation in which everyone wants to work for you and know it could come at a personal cost.” Izzy drew in a sharp breath as he leaned in, eyes falling to Ed’s lips more than they held his gaze. “I serve the greatest chef in this fucking city, and I am honored to do so. And no fucking twat should have the power to make you soft.”

“That what you think happened?” Ed asked. “You think I went soft?”

“Not long ago, you were pining for some would-be boyfriend, letting Roach put on that prissy, sappy music.”

“And what if I like that music?”

“You don’t. You don’t like that shit, and you don’t do feelings.” 

“I do feelings,” Ed growled out, leaning into Izzy’s space, looming over him. He noted the hitch of the shorter man’s breath, and felt a vindictive smirk pull at his lips that Ed shoved down. “I feel a whole bunch of shit, all the time. Because I’m more than a fucking name and a reputation that wasn’t even all me. I feel, Iz, because I’m a fucking human being who has been grieving someone who isn’t even fucking dead! I yearn, and pine, and all the shit you do, too, just would never fucking admit to anyone. And I know, Iz, I know what you yearn and fucking pin for.”

“What’s that?” Izzy tried to sneer, but it came out too breathless.

Ed kissed Izzy. 

Hard, and brutal and not unlike he would have nearly three decades ago when they were barely more than kids. Before Ed realized that it wasn’t just messing around for Izzy like it had been for him and moved on before things got to fucking complicated.

A part of him wanted to go back to that time. To take a step left instead of right and let Izzy have this because this was better than nothing, wasn’t it? He would make Izzy happy, and that had to count for something, didn’t it?

But then Ed remembered soft, dry lips beneath his own and the rightness of it that hit his soul. He remembered the squeeze of a hand around his as if to say that everything Ed felt Stede felt, too, before he was pulled back from his not death and forgot everything.

As pissed as Ed was at the hand life dealt him, he had known happiness for a few weeks. Real happiness and love like he didn’t think he’d ever get. He knew what it was like to feel wanted for him, the real him, and damn it all he knew nothing else would do.

Even if he never got Stede, he could never settle for Izzy.

So he broke the kiss as roughly and abruptly as he started it barely more than ten seconds ago, pulling back and panting along with Izzy.

He could see the desperation in his friend’s eyes, the longing the colored the lines of his face as he seemed to wait for Ed to say something.

Ed chuckled darkly.

“That’s what I thought,” he growled. “I can tell, just by the look on your face, you got all those sappy emotions wreaking havoc on you that you find so fucking weak. But you know what I feel?” He asked. 

Izzy, dazed and looking like he was a second away from trying to launch himself at Ed, shook his head.

“Nothing. I feel absolutely nothing,” Ed told him plainly. “And now I’m going home,” He grabbed his leather jacket from the counter he had dropped it on earlier in the night after the kitchen closed and headed out the back door.

~*~

Ed didn’t drink when he got home, but it sort of felt like he did when his alarm went off the next morning. Probably because he hadn’t slept well, restless with heartache and guilt.

He wanted to hate Stede for not knowing who he was but knew he’d never find it in himself to do so. Stede was too bright a spot in his life, shining as brightly as he did even just in the short time they had known one another. Ed wanted to hate the universe for giving him weeks of bliss with Stede and then ripping it away. That the price for Stede to live was Ed not getting to have him. Maybe he’d finally worked through all those stages of grief and just accepted things the way they were. It was better to have had Stede and lost him than to have never had Stede in his life at all. That being in a world where Stede was alive and didn’t know him was better than knowing how much dimmer it would be without him.

Ed also wanted to feel the nothing he had said he felt in regards to Izzy, but that wasn’t entirely true. What he felt was guilt. He toyed with Izzy’s emotions just to prove a point Ed wasn’t sure how else to make. And because the little fucker just couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that Ed was not the man Izzy had built him up to be.

When he got out of bed, Ed’s head throbbed dullyand his body ached like he did some really stupid shit while imbibing too much. The shower only helped a little, because while it did ease some of the pain, it also made him remember what it was like to soak in that big tub on the yacht. 

Too soon to try and soak in his tiny ass tub, as weird as that was. Memories of bathing like that were wrapped up in Stede. 

After he was cleaned and toweled off, he texted Roach to give him a heads-up that he wouldn’t be in right away. Not that he was calling off, Ed felt he’d done a bit too much of that as of late. He just needed some time to himself, to get his head on straight after everything. 

Staying around his own place wasn’t going to help, though. So once he got the thumbs up from Roach, Ed got dressed and went out for a walk.

Despite being tired, the idea of going for a ride just didn’t sit well. Ed had to move his fatigued body, breath deep, and move slow as he made his way around his neighborhood. Surprisingly, the fresh air did wonders for his headache, and what still lingered was banished with a good coffee and a fresh pastry from a bakery he hadn’t ever stepped foot into before.

As fucking fantastic as a real, fresh-baked pastry was, the crumbs in his beard were annoying. No matter how much he brushed, he felt like he still hadn’t gotten it all out. It made him wonder exactly how much food he’d gotten in it over the years and how much went unnoticed. 

He was running his hand over his beard a dozenth time when he turned the corner and saw a blue, red, and white pole slowly spinning a few buildings down.

Ed had known more than one person cut their bangs after a bad breakup. Dye their hair, or chop it all off just to try and wipe the slate clean. No one was going to touch his hair for anything, it took too long to grow out. His beard, though, was another thing.

“Done worse things on impulse,” He said to himself before striding to the shop with a confidence he didn’t really have to do a thing he wasn’t sure he’d regret immediately.

~*~

After his impromptu visit to the barber, Ed went back to his place to get his bike and head to work. He couldn’t remember ever having a cold neck during a ride, but he got to experience it now. 

When he arrived at the restaurant, he decided he would act like not a damn thing was different, draw no attention to it whatsoever, and hope no one commented on the lack of facial hair.

What he hadn’t banked on was walking into a shit show.

Yelling. A lot of fucking yelling, some of it in Spanish. Roach was brandishing a cleaver, Jim a chef’s knife, and Izzy his extra-angry snarl. John was standing behind him, a handcart positioned just so behind Izzy, a set of stretchy tie-down straps hooked on one side, ready to strap what should be boxes to it. 

It didn’t look like John was about to load any boxes anytime soon.

“Hey!” Ed growled loudly over the raised voices, causing each and every person in the kitchen to turn toward him.

Each and everyone’s eyes went comically wide.

Ed chose to ignore it.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“The fuck is wrong with your face?” Jim asked in turn.

“Answer my question first,” He countered, crossing his arms and suddenly realizing he probably didn’t look half as terrifying without the beard.

“You weren’t fucking here again, ” Izzy snarled. “So I figure if someone is going to run this place, it should be the one who actually seems to give a shit.”

“And you think we don’t?” Roach countered, the cleaver in his hand looking more menacing. “You do know Ed texted me, yeah?”

“I don’t fucking care if he went to your house and danced on your damn doorstep,” Izzy growled, taking a step closer to get more in Roach’s face. “I’m the one in fucking charge. And when I tell you to do something, you had better fucking-“

“Iz, take a walk,” Ed cut him off.

Izzy whipped his head to look at Ed so fast, that Ed swore he heard something pop. 

“Get the fuck out of here before you make me do something else I regret,” Ed warned when Izzy only stared.

But the words hit their mark, and Izzy flinched as if he’d been hit. He moved after that, shoving past Ed and out the door. He tried to slam it behind him, but the hydraulics caught, making the action lose all its effect.

Ed barely managed to stop a snort from coming out, and he found he was having the hardest time curbing the amusement clear on his face. The beard would have hidden that shit.

 Clearing his throat, Ed said, “Right, let’s get to work, then,” as he started to head to the corridor in order to get his chef’s jacket.

“Not gonna say what the fuck happened to your beard?” Roach called in a teasing tone.

“Nope!” Ed shouted back with a grin. One he couldn’t hide anymore and found maybe he didn’t want to.

~*~

He knocked off after the dinner rush, making up for missing prep and kindly giving a hand to the night crew. No one commented on the missing beard, and amusingly enough, one of the waiters had referred to him as “new guy” for almost a half hour before he clued into who he was.

Fang and Ivan gave him a good ribbing for it when he emerged from the kitchen to join them for a drink after shift. 

“Makes you look younger, though,” Ivan pointed out. “You do this for that guy you were sorta into?”

“Nah,” Ed shook his head, “Just needed a fucking change, ya know?”

After a round with them, Ed headed home, ready to make himself a sandwich and settle in for the night. Crappy TV and decent food didn’t sound half bad, even if it was his old habits creeping up again.

He got a couple of double-takes from the neighbors who recognized him, which just had him snickering to himself as he made his way into his apartment. Ed went to the kitchen and pulled out the stuff he wanted to use, whipping together his simple meal quickly enough and eating it on the way to the sofa. 

Ed tossed himself onto it, wriggling a little before turning on the TV and casting whatever mindless sitcom he’d been watching last.

He’d been half asleep when his phone pinged with a notification he hadn’t heard in so long that he nearly ignored it. When it clicked what it was, Ed jolted, leaning slightly forward and staring at the device sitting on the coffee table. Then, cautiously like he was about to defuse a bomb, reached for it.

He unlocked his phone, then tapped on the notification saying GentlemanPirate had sent him a message.

Only, it wasn’t a text. 

There, waiting for him, was a voice message.

Ed set the phone down like it burned him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with that? Actually listen to Stede’s voice? His actual, can be heard by anybody voice? And what would he say? That he remembered Ed? That he could now recall the weeks they spent together, falling deeper for each other. Why would he? That wasn’t Ed’s luck.

But fucking hell, it would be Stede’s voice. And Ed, being a bit of a masochist, he’d probably listen to Stede tell him off and how he would never want to see him again and probably thank the bastard for the pleasure.

So, Ed reached for the phone, hesitated a beat, then tapped his thumb on the voice clip.

“Umm, hi? Hi, Yes, hello,” Stede’s voice shook a bit, all bright and cheery and polite sounding. 

It made Ed’s heart ache as he clutched the phone tighter.

“I know this isn’t the norm for us, voice clips and all. Gosh, I’m probably lucky if you even listened this far, given that I was apparently meant to meet you. I’m really, truly sorry about that. You’ve no idea how much, and you probably won’t believe me, but I have a very good reason why I wasn’t there.

“I was in a car accident. Apparently, I’d been in a coma for about a month. I was actually only released from the hospital yesterday. It’s why I’m only getting back to you now. Nearly two months after we last spoke. I’d understand if you hate me and never want to speak to me in any capacity again. But if you’re willing, I’d like to give meeting another try. Same place, same time, maybe tomorrow?”

The audio ended, and the apartment seemed quiet with the way Ed heard his heart beat wildly in his ears.

Stede wanted to meet. Again. Fucking hell, and Ed had gone and shaved his fucking beard off! Well, maybe that was for the best. If Stede suddenly remembered the guy who had been clutching his hand at the hospital, who had kissed him for fuck sakes, and realized it was Ed, it may end things a second time before they even had a chance to begin again.

Ed didn’t really get second chances like these. He had chances to turn his life around, change his stars and all that, but not a do-over. 

So Ed did the only reasonable, sane thing: he quickly typed back that he would, in fact, meet Stede tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Stede Bonnet’s life was about to take a turn for the better. Not that he would have said his life was bad, per se, because Stede was an optimist at his core and knew his circumstances could have been worse. Yes, he was bullied relentlessly growing up. Yes, he was unloved by his father, and his mother only tolerated him. Yes, he was forced into a marriage to a woman, but there were so many things that he could say he was fortunate to have. 

His wealth, for instance. From the moment of Stede’s birth, his grandfather had signed away a substantial sum of inheritance to be given to Stede in increments on his eighteenth, twenty-first, and twenty-fifth birthdays. Enough to live on should he chose not to work, or at least not work seriously. And as the sole male heir to the Bonnet estate, the family wealth and all that entails would go to him regardless of what his father wanted because that’s the way it had always been. 

And his father didn’t want it to go to Stede but believed in tradition and refused to have the Bonnet name tarnished by not passing it down. But while he essentially only interacted with Stede after the age of five when he wanted to berate him, mock him, and try his damnedest to be cruel in an effort to butch Stede up, he never once objected to Stede’s wanting to go into a more academic pursuit. 

His mother just wanted him to marry a woman, and that’s what he did. Mostly because it was laid out to him what would be on offer if he did marry a woman and proceed with all the things one expects that marriage to entail. But, also, because when he met Mary, he saw a lot of himself in her: miserable, trapped, lacking in affection from the people who should have given it to her unconditionally.

He and Mary became a team, though it took an awful lot of talking (yelling) to be as solid as they ended up being. And she ultimately became one of his dearest friends. It could have been worse, they could have hated each other. Yes, there was a large chunk of their nearly eleven-year marriage where things were awful, but they got through it.

And in the end, they were able to get what they both wanted: freedom. Financially, from their families, and from each other in so much as people who shared children could be.

So when Stede was a day or two away from signing the divorce papers that would finally allow him to truly live his life how he wanted, he messaged Blackbeard1718 and asked him to meet.

That was, of course, nearly two months ago.

He didn’t remember any of it, though. 

Many of the things leading up to the accident that stole that time and moment from him were becoming clearer, but there was still some missing bits.

But what his friends could tell him if he were to ask was this: after working at the library all day, he went to Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill for dinner as he tended to do when he was able. He’d been at the bar, trying his damnedest to ignore the angry little man who never failed to be rude to customers when Lucius had called. What exactly Stede had said, Lucius couldn’t really remember. Stede just told him the cafe he was going to meet Blackbeard1718 at, that he was intending to go there right after he paid his check, and promised to text Lucius when he arrived home from his not-date.

Stede does remember being in a car, but doesn’t remember the drive for the most part. He can recall how excited and terrified he was all at once. He doesn’t know it was because he really hoped the way he and Blackbeard1718 got along digitally translated well in person.

He remembers the light changing from red to green, easing into the intersection, then the jolt and shock. He remembers sirens and flashing lights, but after that? Nothing.

At least nothing until he woke up for what turned out to be the second time in a hospital bed to Mary and Lucius looking completely and totally relieved, if not a little sad. Both promised that there was nothing wrong, only that he had woken up the day before, and they were just disappointed he didn’t remember anything. Stede wasn’t sure what there was to remember.

The whole thing with Chauncey, probably. He heard about that from Lucius and Mary. Then again from Evelyn when she dropped by to check on him and threaten to do him in if he didn’t sign the divorce papers as soon as he was able.

It was quite a thing, from what he understood. Chauncey blamed Stede for Nigel’s death, despite police having interviewed Stede as well as others from the party he and Nigel had been to to see if he could have possibly been to blame.

Stede still sort of blamed himself for it, too. But Lucius had helped him figure out how to move past it. He still had some guilt and regret for not driving Nigel home, but most of the time, Stede knew the only one responsible for Nigel’s death was Nigel.

Learning that Chauncey had tried to murder him not once but twice - and possibly a third - was a lot to take in after coming to consciousness. But the morphine (a non-lethal dose he was assured of by every nurse who gave him a dose while a doctor was present) was doing an excellent job making it easy to digest. Stede supposed being high would do that.

He also blamed it for the dreams, even when the drug was no longer needed and he was able to go to less powerful medication. His dreams were really strange things where he and a shadow of a person did the most mundane things. Always fleeting, never really something he could recall in much detail. He just knew whatever happened wasn’t anything grand or epic but merely the day-to-day of life. It nagged at him, but only because when Stede woke up, he felt happy. Happier than he’d been in his whole life, and he just couldn’t recall what made him feel that way.

It’s where his tired mind had wandered to after they had been seated in a booth at Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill. Those dreams he couldn’t quite recall and wanted to get back to.

“Stede?” Mary got his attention, and he jolted a bit.

“Ah,” He looked down at the menu in his hands, at the young waiter who was politely waiting for his order. “Um, the special, I think.”

He couldn’t remember what it was, but it wasn’t like it could really go wrong at his favorite restaurant.

After the waiter left, Mary smiled at him.

“You don’t even know what you ordered, do you?” She asked teasingly.

“Not a clue,” Stede admitted, making Doug chuckle.

“Haddock. You ordered haddock,” Mary told him in a long-suffering but affectionate way. It was a tone she either perfected to the point of habit or perhaps came from a real affection in a platonic nature. Either way, it had been real and wifely enough that it convinced so many people for so long that they were contentedly married.

He had no idea if Doug being with them publicly meant that their families knew about the fact that they very much were not. 

“I’m getting chicken tenders,” Louis declared, which was something Stede could have guessed, given he didn’t exactly have a diverse diet.

“A fine choice, my boy,” Stede tried for his normal, jovial self and found it just exhausted him.

Honestly, it was really very kind of Mary to have arranged a reservation for them under the alias he always used. He admittedly hadn’t eaten much even while conscious in the hospital because the food was so abysmal. She and Lucius had been sneaking Stede snacks to help him gain back some of the weight he’d lost during his coma, but it had only helped a little. 

Still, what he wanted right now, more than anything, was to be someplace familiar and comfortable. And while this restaurant was both of those, what it lacked was an ability for Stede to close his eyes and rest while waiting for his food.

“Doug managed to get him to eat a single baby carrot the other day,” Mary shared with a strained smile. 

“Well, that’s a start, isn’t it?” Stede commented, flashing an encouraging grin Louis’s way. 

“My sister was like him,” Doug said, waving off the whole thing like mealtime wasn’t a stress-inducing thing for Mary and Stede since Louis was two and started forming opinions. “She eats almost anything now, but my parents didn’t stress too much about it so long as she ate something.”

“At least you didn’t say she turned out fine,” Mary quipped with a smirk, making Doug elbow her affectionately.

It made Stede ache and pine, but only in so much as he wanted so badly what they had. He smiled, thoughts drifting to Blackbeard1718 and how he had daydreamed time and again that they could have something. That the man would wander into the library and ask about books on pirates. Or maybe he’d be walking the dock where Stede’s yacht was docked and happen upon him while he was coming or going, feeling the need to strike up a conversation with Stede. Or maybe even meeting the fellow here, at this restaurant, possibly catching one another’s eye across the bar while the awful manager growled and ranted.

Of course, it would mean working up the nerve to actually ask the man to meet. Something Stede knew he was sort of thinking about doing once he’d signed the divorce papers and everything was made official. Something that would probably be next to impossible to have happen now that he’d gone almost two months of not saying anything to the man after half a year of daily communication.

Stede was broken from his thoughts by a gentle yet solid kick to his ankle by Mary, her smile knowing in a way Stede didn’t understand.

Then he sensed there was someone at their table and looked up.

Oh. Okay, so maybe Mary knew Stede better than he thought. Somehow she had pegged his type, which was weird since the one thing Stede could say for absolute certainty was that they had never, ever talked about the type of men they liked. He certainly wouldn’t have picked Doug out of a crowd for his wife, that’s for sure.

“Oh,” Stede managed to say because words were probably expected with the way the man stared back at him. “You’re not our waiter.”

“Nope,” the man said, and it was then that Stede realized that he was a chef.

After a second that felt both exceedingly long and barely anything, the chef looked away.

“Just, uh… yeah. Who had the salmon?”

One by one, the man handed out the dishes, saving Stede for last. 

When the plate was set before him, the scent of lemon and ginger wafting up and making Stede’s mouth water, he couldn’t help but grin in amusement.

“That’s not what they said the special was,” He said, peeking up at the man and hoping desperately that Mary wouldn’t call him out on having not known what it was himself when he ordered it.

Stede wished he could see the chef’s name, but the same beard that seemed to be hiding a bit of a blush also hid any embroidery that would have been on the jacket that would bare his name. 

“Chef’s special,” the man said. “Not on the menu yet. Thought you might want to try it.”

Stede grinned further, pleased as absolute punch that, if nothing else, he’d come to the restaurant often enough to be recognized as a regular and receive something like this. He picked up his fork, almost went for his knife, then realized quite suddenly he wouldn’t be able to properly cut his chicken without the use of his other hand.

“Can’t eat as properly as I normally do,” he apologized to the chef for his less-than-perfect manners. 

“You got a good reason,” The man said with a hint of warmth.

“Just got out of the hospital today. This is the first non-hospital food I’ve had in… a while.”

Probably better not to dump the whole story on a man who probably was just there to report back to the head chef what a regular thought of his food.

Not wanting to make a fool of himself in front of someone so handsome when he was already feeling less than adequate, Stede broke off a small piece of the meat and popped it in his mouth.

It was delicious, too. Everything he would expect from this particular establishment. Oddly, though, he felt like he had something almost identical to it before. Only whatever it was hadn’t been quite as good. Like whatever they added to it here had been the missing ingredient all along.

Still, he smiled as he turned to the chef.

“This is incredible! It almost tastes like this marmalade I can get at the farmer’s market,” he told the chef after he swallowed.

“I, uh… that’s where it came from.”

Stede knew, somehow, he’d given the wrong answer. He wasn’t sure what the right one would have been, but he’d let this man down. He knew it, had seen the same look in far too many eyes in his lifetime not to recognize it.

“Well, give my compliments to the chef,” He carried on, keeping his smile in place. “It’s wonderful.”

 “Will do.”

The Chef patted Stede’s shoulder once, then turned and headed back to the kitchen.

The table fell silent with a heavy sort of atmosphere that Stede couldn’t suss out. Mary and Doug exchanged glances that weren’t knowing or amused, but almost as if they were disappointed.

Stede sighed, tired and weary and so completely unsure where or how he misstepped. He was normally so good at avoiding it, knowing how to act, what to say, even if it wasn’t authentic to him. 

Damn it all, though, he was not going to dwell on it. Handsome as the man was, what were the chances he’d ever see him again? And so what if how he acted somehow disappointed Mary? She was the one who brought him here when she had to have known he wasn’t going to be up to pretending perfectly. 

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t, and Stede decided to let it all slide, too invested in the first proper meal he had outside the hospital in weeks. 

And it really was exquisite. Absolutely perfect. It was almost like a home-cooked meal that had been made with love but also by the hands of someone who knew exactly how to make all the ingredients sing.

It might have been the best dish he’d had at Blackbeard’s in a long time.

“Do you remember the game we played together, father?” Louis suddenly asked, breaking the silence at the table and bringing Stede’s mind back to the present.

“You’ll have to be more specific, Love,” Stede replied.

“The number game,” Louis said as if Stede should have known precisely what he meant. “Where you would show us your hand, and me and the bearded man would shout out what number you were making with your fingers.”

“Louis,” Mary scolded, taking Stede aback. 

He and Mary had never attempted to restrain or tame the children’s imaginations. Whatever sort of nonsense they came up with, they would go along with it. But this? This sounded very, very much like the same tone she used when Louis accidentally mentioned Doug to her mother a few months back.

Louis looked properly chided then, even mumbling an apology.

When Stede turned to Mary with a frown, she shook her head, eyes sad as she diverted her gaze to her salmon.

Stede didn’t question further, too tired to want to sort whatever that was out.

~*~

Mary put him up in the nice guest room. It was the one farthest from the children’s bedrooms and playroom, as well as the largest. He spotted a hint of his wardrobe already put in the closet, though he doubted Mary would have gotten every piece from the yacht. Likely that was just the seasonal wardrobe Stede would have kept in the main closet. 

His electronics were there as well, same with the family photos he kept on the boat.

“Why is this all here?” He asked curiously as he made his way to the bed.

“I rented out your yacht while you were…,” Mary’s face scrunched a moment instead of saying the obvious. 

Stede frowned, perplexed.

“Why?”

“Well, to be frank, I was a bit worried that someone would try and steal it if they didn’t see anyone going there regularly.”

“Mary, it’s a secure marina,” Stede pointed out as he plopped down on the edge of the mattress.

“Yeah, well, still. And besides, I figured you’d want the thing looked after. Sorta pictured you heartbroken at the thought of the Revenge not being utilized.”

Stede made a hum of agreement, though he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of a stranger living in what was essentially his home. One he hadn’t lived in for very long himself. 

He probably should be there now, what with he and Mary being legally separated and with divorce papers drawn up.

“You’re staying here,” she said firmly, like she knew what he was thinking.

Stede blinked, then blushed.

“That obvious where my mind was wandering?”

“Even if it wasn’t, I’d want to make sure you knew you were not going anywhere near that boat until your arm is healed and you’re more yourself. You’re family, whether we’re married or not. And while I wouldn’t-“ She paused, seeming to steel herself. “I wouldn’t have chosen you for a husband, I think I can say I would choose you as family now. Sorta like we did with Lucius.”

“That’s very kind,” Stede said with a smile even as the fatigue came over him.

“You’re still sleeping a lot,” Mary pointed out nervously.

“I’m doing better than I was, believe me,” Stede said as he toed off his shoes. “Gonna sneak a nap before dinner, I think.”

“Alright,” Mary said warily as she got up. Hesitating at the door, she adds, “just call if you need anything.”

“Of course, dear,” Stede said, feeling the weight of fatigue settling around him.

She left the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Stede to shed his sling and jacket. He stretched out on the bed, luxuriating in the softness of the pillows and the sheets. 

He closed his eyes and slowly began to drift off, thinking of warm, kind eyes that were both terribly familiar and yet those of a complete stranger.

~*~

Stede pretty much only woke up long enough to have dinner, a shower (though not a proper shower because doing anything one-handed was difficult and therefore made him cut a lot of his routine short), and read the children a bedtime story. After that, he went back to bed and didn’t wake up until almost ten in the morning.

It was glorious. 

No nurses tromping in every hour or so to check on him. They were doing their job, and he didn’t begrudge them or complain, but it was so nice to sleep uninterrupted. 

He still couldn’t recall the dreams he had but knew they were still the same as in the hospital. Still simple, everyday moments spent with a man he never quite got a good look at.

Stede contemplated whether it was his mind trying to show him what he should try and find with his second chance at life or something else he couldn’t pinpoint. He pondered this over coffee, and a brunch of scones with marmalade bought from the farmer’s market. Likely brought in from the boat since Mary didn’t tend to like it, nor did the kids, and so it was something Stede only ever got for himself.

Thoughts of the Revenge then had him contemplating the sort of person that rented a yacht to live in. Not like he could judge. 

He wanted to go to it now that it was on his mind, but Mary had a point. His balance wouldn’t be right, and he’d probably stumble all over the deck and either injure himself further or manage to throw himself overboard. 

He started to think about those dreams again, to ponder what it meant that they took place on the yacht, but then quickly stopped himself. What good would it do? They were dreams! They were nothing. Even if they did have a deeper meaning, what was he going to do about it right now?

Getting himself one more cup of coffee, Stede left the kitchen and his pointless ponderings and headed upstairs.

He’d no idea where the children were, but it was quiet enough that he figured they weren’t home. It would allow him to enjoy some solitude, maybe get in some light reading before they returned and brought the loud with them.

But first, he would see if Blackbeard1718 had messaged him. 

Two months was a long time to go without speaking, enough that Stede was prepared for some angry messages when he eventually booted up his phone. And, of course, there was an update to deal with first, emails regarding the library that had to be attended - or at least followed up on.

His coffee was drained by the time he sorted through the countless invitations to this gala or that charity event. The authors who wanted to do a little public reading because the library was something they wanted to show support for. Not to mention the long list of people wanting to do workshops, though it looked like Oluwande had a handle on those in Stede’s absence.

By the time Stede actually was able to get to the app he and Blackbeard1718 had used to message each other, he was starting to feel a bit peckish and like maybe he should have had a glass of water with him.

He was glad he wasn’t eating or drinking anything when the last bits of his conversation with the man came up because he would have spit whatever it was right back out.

GentlemanPirate : On my way. Shouldn’t be too long, just a quick stop before I arrive at the cafe. Looking forward to meeting you!

Blackbeard1718 : Here and waiting.

Blackbeard1718 : It was here, wasn’t it? <location sent>

Blackbeard1718 : and at 7pm?

Blackbeard1718 : and today?

Blackbeard1718 : Gent?

“Oh god,” Stede said as he went back further and realized that, yes, he had asked the man to meet him. And he had, in fact, managed to stand him up. “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” He clapped a hand over his mouth and then promptly pulled it away.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

That was probably where he was going when he was struck. Because of course, of course, it would be on the way to meet the man Stede was essentially in love with. When would it be any other time? Like on the way home (still bad, but not as bad), or perhaps not at all. 

And what in the hell was he supposed to do in this situation? He didn’t have how-to instruction nor gained experience from having dealt with this social situation in the past. 

Stede was pretty sure there probably was only one person in his entire acquaintance that would even have an inkling of how to handle this.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he was calling Lucius.

“Stede? You okay?” He answered fairly quickly for the middle of the day.

Stede blinked, and glanced at the clock to see it was pushing four o’clock.

“I’m not interrupting a session, am I?” 

“Depends on the sort of session,” Lucius said coyly, and Stede could hear Pete chuckling in the background.

“It’s still business hours, man!”

“Oh, hush, you. Wasn’t anything like that. My normal four o’clock for today is, shall we say, no longer on the books? And I haven’t filled his slot yet. What’s up, you alright?”

Stede swallowed, the horrified panic that had been temporarily forgotten in the wake of Lucius’s Luciusness coming back in full force.

“I was supposed to meet Blackbeard.”

There was an abnormally long silence.

“Are you… remembering this, or…?”

“No, I went to see if he messaged during my convalescence. I figured I should explain my absence.”

“Wouldn’t worry too much about that. Anyway, continue.”

“Yes, well…. I saw I was supposed to meet him, and he…. Oh, God, Lucius, he was there for hours. I could tell the gap in the messages… and then he never wrote anything further. And I just… god, what do I do?”

“Call him,” Lucius said without hesitation. And, if Stede wasn’t mistaken, with a bit of eagerness to his tone. Perhaps even excitement. “Or message him, or whatever it is you can or normally do. But Stede, I really don’t think he’ll be as upset about it as you think he will be. It’s… I can’t explain, but just know that I have every confidence that not only will he understand, but he will gladly meet you.”

“You really do sound sure,” Stede noted, finding that a bit odd, even for the over-confident and highly optimistic Lucius. “What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me?”

“He will want something to do with you, believe me.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Lucius let out a frustrated sigh but still took a moment to reply. 

“If he doesn’t, then you move on. If he doesn’t, then it clearly wasn’t meant to be, and you go on to find the one who is. But Stede? I really think this is going to work out.”

“You’re right,” Stede said, even if he really didn’t believe it. “I just have to try. Thank you, Lucius.”

“Anytime.”

The call ended, and Stede looked back at the messages on his phone. 

“I’m gonna need a lot of tea,” He said to himself before getting up and heading down to prepare a cup, or perhaps a pot, to fortify himself.

A couple of hours and far too much tea later, Stede wasn’t anywhere closer to figuring out the perfect way to word his apologetic explanation and possible rescheduling. He paused his contemplation to eat with Mary, Doug, and the children, then went back to his room, claiming he needed rest. 

Instead, he paced and poked at the screen. Started far too many messages that didn’t sound right and had to be deleted. Which was really very frustrating since typing with one hand on a phone was probably just as brutal as doing so on a laptop keyboard.

So before Stede lost his nerve, he hit the little microphone button and just spoke.

“Umm, hi? Hi, Yes, hello,” He winced at how stupid he sounded but carried on anyway. “ I know this isn’t the norm for us, voice clips and all. Gosh, I’m probably lucky if you even listened this far, given that I was apparently meant to meet you. I’m really, truly sorry about that. You’ve no idea how much, and you probably won’t believe me, but I have a very good reason why I wasn’t there.

“I was in a car accident. Apparently, I’d been in a coma for about a month. I was actually only released from the hospital yesterday. It’s why I’m only getting back to you now. Nearly two months after we last spoke. I’d understand if you hate me and never want to speak to me in any capacity again. But if you’re willing, I’d like to give meeting another try. Same place, same time, maybe tomorrow?”

He hit send before he lost his nerve, then forced himself to go into the ensuite and shower. If he wasn’t by the phone, maybe it would ping. Maybe he would come out to a message there waiting for him.

It was probably the fastest shower of his life, even one-handed, and Stede was still dripping as he left the bathroom to stride across the bedroom to look at his phone.

There was a message.

Heart pounding, Stede sat on the edge of the bed - damp towel be damned - to see what the verdict was. Gut twisting, he opened up the response.

Then a delighted yet hopeful grin spread across his lips when he read: It’s a date! See you tomorrow.

Chapter Text

It was a day of his staff looking at him suspiciously, but Ed really couldn’t give two fucks. Maybe smiling constantly was a little creepy, but how could he not? 

For one, Stede was going to meet him. Again. Which, okay, so having to do the whole introduction thing and pretending not to know some extremely intimate details about Stede’s life was going to suck, but it was Stede! 

For another, when Ed stupidly, impulsively “put it’s a date,” Stede didn’t exactly deny it. In fact, he replied with: right-o! See you then :D.

A fucking smiley emoji. If Ed hadn’t already been so gone on Stede’s nerdiness, that would have probably sealed it. 

It was also an extremely good day work-wise as far as Ed was concerned. Maybe his mood just permeated the entire restaurant, but even Izzy didn’t seem to have the stick he kept up his ass jammed quite so far up it. Which meant that the overall morale was the best it had possibly ever been. 

Ed stayed in the kitchen a touch longer than he intended, but it was fine. He already had what he needed in his office to make sure he was as ready as possible, and as soon as the initial rush for dinner was over, he took his leave to get ready.

He dashed for his office, ignoring Izzy’s half-grumbled question about the rush, and made sure to lock the door behind him. Then, after taking a quick breath, Ed began to strip.

Were deodorant wipes a shower? No, but they got the sweat off, and a reapplication of actual deodorant would take care of the smell. He had a clean purple t-shirt and his favorite jeans that gave the look of leather without all the wriggling stashed in a bag behind his desk, as well as some clean skivvies - not that he had any expectations. He changed into those only after triple checking that the lock on his door was definitely in place.

Once changed with his grubby stuff stashed in the bag, Ed put on a light dab of cologne, perhaps used a little eyeliner pencil that he had in his desk drawer, then made sure his hair wasn’t too wild. Once he was satisfied, he grabbed his bag of clothes to shove into a saddle bag, tossed his leather jacket over his shoulder, and strode out of his office, hoping to sneak out the back door without anyone noticing him.

It almost worked.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up here,” Roach flagged him as he was by the exit. He looked Ed up and down as he slowly approached. “You’re dressed up.”

“Huh? What the fuck you mean?” Ed asked as he tried to nonchalantly shift his bag around so he could shrug on his leather jacket.

“You’re wearing nice things,” Roach pointed out. “Not what you were wearing in the kitchen, that’s for sure.”

This, of course, got Jim’s attention. They crept up, getting closer than Roach with their eyes narrowed on Ed’s.

“You wearing fucking eyeliner?”

“What? It’s the fucking twenty-twenties. Think a guy can wear eyeliner and not have it be weird.”

“Yeah, but you’re wearing it. The last time you wore it was-“

“Oh, when that Jack guy showed up a couple years ago!” Roach snapped his fingers, and Jim nodded. “Wait! That means you’re going on a date!”

“Well,” Ed hedged for only a second before he broke his cool facade with a smirk. “Maybe,” He said, throwing a wink over his shoulder. He left the restaurant with his staff whooping and making some slightly obscene noises that might have only lasted a few seconds before Izzy’s raging voice broke over the din. Also, managing to break the perfect streak of calm after Ed was already out the door. Given what he walked into the day before, he didn’t doubt that the others were going to put Izzy back in his place.

Ed rode through the streets giddy and nervous all at once. Utterly elated to be back in Stede’s company, but fucking terrified he wouldn’t live up to any sort of expectation Stede might have. Or he’d fuck up really bad somehow, ruining everything and breaking his own heart all over again.  It only really began to make him shaky the closer he got to the cafe. 

Ed’s heart was pounding when he pulled up to the curb. He had to practically rip off his helmet in order to breathe, remembering what it was like to sit there for hours before. Even though he knew why he had it didn’t mean that he wasn’t terrified it was going to happen again. 

But as soon as he had his helmet tucked under his arm, he looked up and saw Stede through the window.

It was weird not seeing him in the teal suit because even at the restaurant the day he was released, he was wearing one very similar to it. This time, though, Stede was just in a plain white button-down, simple black slacks covering the knee bouncing beneath the table.

His arm was still in a cast, and he looked like he was holding an e-reader with one hand. Ed watched him for probably longer than was polite - bordering on creepy. Enough that he could see Stede set the e-reader down to pick up his mug and take a sip, glance at the place where Ed knew there was a clock behind the counter before picking up the e-reader again.

It was such a small but telling glimpse, one that made Ed feel a little more confident that he wasn’t going to get a different Stede than the one he’d gotten to know. He hadn’t even realized it was a fear until watching the whole thing made something ease up inside him.

He might have been walking on cloud nine all day, but apparently, he hadn’t expected the gossamer feeling to support him. 

Taking a deep breath and pulling up some of that bravado he had when leaving the restaurant, Ed stepped up to the door, threw it open with gusto, and strode toward Stede’s table with nothing short of a strut.

“The Gentleman Pirate, I presume,” He said with a smirk when Stede looked up.

Stede’s eyebrows shot up, and he reared back a little, but his eyes traveled up and down Ed’s body. Then he blushed, which only had Ed’s smirk growing, and Stede gulping visibly.

“I must say you are somehow both nothing and everything I was expecting you to be. You are Blackbeard, aren’t you?” He asked, seeming to realize that it was both a bit late to presume, as well as a little obvious.

“That I am,” he slid into the chair across from Stede, resting his helmet on the floor by his feet. “Edward Teach, but you can call me Ed.” 

Ed offered his hand, and Stede beamed as he took it.

“You’re joking,” He said as he shook Ed’s hand.

It was so warm, soft, with only a hint of callouses from who knew what. But it was solid and real, and it was the fucking best thing ever.

“Afraid not. Edward Teach, born near the beach.” 

For a single fraction of a second, Stede seemed taken aback. He was still grinning like a loon, the same as he was the first time they did this whole song and dance, but there was something in his face that made Ed think he was trying to figure out where he heard the rhyme before.

But it was only a second, very fleeting, and probably wouldn’t have been obvious if Ed hadn’t been hoping that the touch of their hands would trigger something.

“Well, I suppose this makes this whole meeting a bit serendipitous. Stede Bonnet,” He introduced himself before withdrawing his hand. “And, also, I can’t begin to thank you enough for meeting me. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt, sitting here all night, waiting for someone who never showed.” Stede ducked his head, attention solidly on his teacup. “I have to admit I expected you wouldn’t. I know you’re early, or at least a little bit, but I was… worried. Beginning to think when I hadn’t heard more from you that you would, uh, get a bit of revenge.”

“Wouldn’t do that, mate.” 

Not entirely true. If Ed didn’t know, he might have been petty and vindictive enough to do exactly that. 

“Glad to hear it,” Stede said, narrowing his eyes on Ed a moment. “You know, it feels like I know you from somewhere already.”

“Oh?” Ed asked, his chest tightening with hope and anxiety.

It was, of course, the exact moment a waitress came by to ask for their order. Or, more specifically, Ed’s order and if Stede would like a refill on his cup. After Ed had a coffee and a sandwich ordered, and Stede his refill with the addition of a cake slice, they turned their attention back on one another.

Something had shifted in the way Stede looked at Ed, his smile almost turning sad.

“I think I know,” He said.

“Oh?” Ed choked out.

Stede nodded. 

“You work at Blackbeard’s.”

“Yeah,” Ed confirmed, heart dropping into his stomach. “Yeah, I do.”

“You’re the chef from a couple days ago.”

“I am.”

“You had a beard.”

“I did.”

“Was it a regulation thing, or….?”

Ed coughed out a chuckle, feeling himself blush and wishing for that beard back so he could hide it. “Nah, mate. Just… went through a rough time, did it on impulse. From here to here is freezing,” He said, gesturing with his hands to the area where his beard had covered him.

Stede chuckled, and it was such a fantastic fucking sound that it made up for the crushing disappointment of him not remembering that his nearly dying was the rough time.

“Well, at least the chef Blackbeard didn’t make you shave it off.”

“Wouldn’t do that. Besides, I’m Blackbeard.”

Stede’s eyes widened comically. 

“Nooo!” He drawled excitedly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Ed grinned. 

And he could do this. He could. He could relive all these firsts all over again. Especially because this time, Stede reached across the space that separated them and rested his hand on Ed’s forearm, his touch warm and heavy.

“Tell me about it. What got you into the restaurant business?”

Stede handled the whole sordid story well the first time, so Ed told it again. He watched as Stede gave him his full attention all over again, the only interruption being from the waitress coming by with their order. Stede, in turn, told him again about how he came to own and run the library.  The conversation turned from there, too, to Stede’s family - found and blood alike - and Ed did the same.

Topic after topic flowed between them until they were getting pointed stares from the staff of an otherwise empty cafe.

“I can give you a lift somewhere if you want.” Ed offered as he and Stede left, the door pointedly shut and locked as soon as their feet were past the threshold.

Stede eyed the bike with longing but shook his head. 

“Best not,” He said, gesturing with his cast. “Besides, Doug’s studio is just down the road, and his late class ends in about thirty minutes.”

“The same late class Mary was taking?” Ed asked with a chuckle.

Stede frowned.

“I didn’t realize I mentioned that.”

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!

It had been a thing the not-ghost Stede had told Ed about when he asked how it was so obvious Mary was stepping out right from the get-go. One of those little bits of conversation that sprung up between them now and again. Ed remembered it because Stede couldn’t stop giggling as he told Ed about the hickey Mary tried to say was paint to the children.

“I inferred,” Ed said quickly enough to not make it seem like an utter lie.

Stede seemed to buy it, anyway, if his silent “ah” was anything to go by.

“Yes, same one. You must think it strange, the whole arrangement we have.”

“Nah,” Ed said, making sure not to say anything else incriminating. “You, uh. You have to do what you have to do, right?”

“Exactly,” Stede said.

They stared at one another a beat before Ed asked, “can I walk you?”

“I’d love that,” Stede agreed readily, the blush back on his cheeks, visible in the dim light from the cafe illuminating it.

If he hadn’t already known he was in love with Stede, Ed would have been in trouble. In fact, if this had been a date where he hadn’t already known how he felt, he would have probably realized it in the moment he was currently living. The one where he offered Stede his arm like the gentleman he’d never been, and Stede took it with a giddy grin.

They chatted with each other the short way to the studio, an easy sort of small talk born from knowing one another in some form or another already. The sort they had before when Stede couldn’t touch his arm or chest mindlessly while he spoke.

When they got to the door of the studio, they lingered, gazing at one another in the moon and streetlight, ignoring anyone passing them by. There was a little grin pulling at Stede’s lips, his eyes bright and full of life. His hand was still resting lightly on Ed’s arm, the warmth of his touch seeping through the leather and reminding Ed that he was really, truly there.

How often had he wanted to kiss Stede before? How often had he wanted to feel the lips he knew were soft, probably no longer dry, against his own? 

Without realizing it, Ed had started to lean in, closing the already short distance between them. He caught himself before he crossed fully into Stede’s orbit, pulling back.

He might have wanted to kiss Stede dozens of times in the last few weeks, but Stede was only meeting Ed in person for the first time. And once again, Ed didn’t have real, proper confirmation that this was a date with romantic intentions. 

“Yep, goodnight,” He said before he could start spewing all the questions starting to bubble in his mind.

“Goodnight,” Stede said in turn, and Ed stepped around him, heading back toward the cafe and his bike.

He couldn’t help but pause a moment, though. To turn and catch one last glimpse of Stede before he went inside to meet up with his wife’s lover.

Ed’s heart skipped a couple of beats when he found Stede turned to watch him in return, a dreamy sort of smile in place as he gave Ed a slight wave.

Ed returned it and did his best not to fucking skip the whole way back to his bike. 

~S~

There was something familiar about Ed. And it wasn't just him working at Blackbeard’s - or being Blackbeard himself - but something deeper Stede couldn’t quite grasp.

The romantic part of himself that he had buried deep and made small wanted to believe it was Stede finding a missing part of his soul. Nothing Ed told him felt new, even though Stede knows for a fact he had never shared those parts or stories of himself during their chats. Add to that that Ed didn't seem to find anything Stede said to be new either - though he did well in trying to hide it - and he could chalk it up to finding his soul mate. 

Somehow, though, Stede knew it was more than that. It had him mentally going over the possible ways he could have met Edward Teach before the night. 

The only logical thing he could come up with was a party he attended a few years back where Stede had far too much to drink. He couldn’t recall the evening, something Mary found both hilarious and frustrating at once. He knew that he had used his skills in passive aggression to work the hosts in a lather, and it was because he heard how they treated someone they invited and found wanting. 

But Ed, as gallant and charming as he was, didn't seem the sort to go to a party full of posh knobs regardless of the invite. And if he were, Stede frankly thought it would have been impossible to forget him.

Maybe he had seen Ed around the restaurant in the past. Stede did frequent the place. He could have glimpsed Ed at any point during his numerous visits.

But again, not a forgettable man. And again, no chance that that aching familiarity would have formed from exchanged glances.

So, all Stede could reason was that his soul knew him. And if he were one to fancy the idea of reincarnation, he might have bet on them carrying their namesakes' souls within them. He always did fancy that the original Edward and Stede were deeply in love, had plotted to fake their demises, and then spent the rest of their days in a sort of domestic bliss.

"Hey," Mary said after a tentative knock on the door frame of the guest room. "How was your date?"

"Good," Stede replied absently before shaking himself. "Though I don't know if you could call it a date. We were just meeting for the first time."

"Still a date," She said with deadpan humor. "And you said it went good?"

Stede sighed as he turned and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

"Do you remember what you told me being in love with Doug was like?"

Mary nodded as she came to join him, plopping down so their arms brushed together.

"It was like that. Easy like breathing,: Stede admitted. “Everything that should have made us incompatible was charming, delightful. At least for me. And he didn't seem put off by my me-ness."

Mary beamed, "that's great!"

"Except… well, it sort of feels like we've done this all before, he and I."

Stede watched Mary’s face pinch the way it did when she knew something he didn't. He narrowed his eyes, waiting her out, seeing if she would tell him what she knew.

Mary took a sharp breath through her nose.

"I don't know what to tell you," She said.

Stede could tell she was being honest, which didn't really help matters. At Stede’s huff, Mary softened.

"Maybe you have? Like in another life, or half-life? I dunno, Stede, but is feeling like you know him so well really a bad thing?"

"No, suppose not," He grumbled. 

"Then enjoy it. You, more than anyone, know we've only got this one life. Why question why this love is so easy, why you don't feel like strangers when it just makes things simple?"

"You're right. Of course, you're right. You usually are."

"I know," Mary said smugly before patting Stede’s knee and standing. "I'll let you get some rest. Will you be home for dinner tomorrow?"

"First day back at the library? Probably not."

Mary chuckled softly as she left, throwing a "goodnight, Stede" over her shoulder.

"Goodnight," He said quietly, mind already wandering back to when he said it earlier in the evening.

How Ed started to lean in, how Stede wanted him to but didn't chase when Ed pulled back with a bashful grin. He remembered starting to make his way inside the building that housed Doug’s studio when he couldn’t help but pause and look back. To watch Edward walk away.

Ed had looked back, too, at the same time. Like he couldn’t help himself, either. Like he had to make sure this was as real as Stede had to ensure himself it was, too. 

Easy as breathing. Familiar in a way Stede couldn’t explain, but maybe didn't need to? Maybe he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth and just take what was being offered to him: a chance to be happy with a man he was definitely, probably, really in love with.

When Stede went to sleep that night, he dreamt of Ed and him on his boat, in the galley, making sandwiches of all things. Of him teasing Ed for being a brilliant chef making a ham and swiss, and Ed pointing out that it was made with the finest things one could get. 

It was the best dream Stede could ever remember having.

Chapter Text

“You should come to the restaurant tomorrow for lunch. You may even get personal attention from the owner,” Ed suggested as he lay back in the tub, soaking in lavender-scented water. It wasn’t anything like the tub on Stede’s boat, but it wasn’t half bad. There wasn’t even any lingering melancholy, not after a week of talking with Stede on the phone every night and meeting up at the cafe twice more.

Not that there wasn’t a bit of an ache in Ed’s heart when he remembered how much Stede didn’t remember. How he couldn’t talk about maybe getting Lucius in a room with Izzy again because Stede didn’t know it had happened at Jackie’s. How he already had an idea what it was like to ride with Stede pressed to his back because they rose together a dozen times at least. How this was not the first time they had a conversation while Ed soaked his body in lavender-scented water.

It hurt, yes, but there was an upside in that they still got on just as well, if not better than they had when Stede had been barely more than a phantom. Those little finger flexes Stede would give him carried over into lots of hand touches. Arm touches. Touches in general. There was something less reserved about Stede that Ed couldn’t put his finger on, yet he was taking things slow. 

Well, maybe not as slow as it felt to Ed. After all, he had about four weeks on Stede in terms of their relationship. He could live with it, though. What were five weeks in the span of (possibly, hopefully) a lifetime?

Ed was going to humor him anyway, take things as slow as Stede wanted. though it also wasn’t going to stop him from coaxing Stede to see him more often.

“Well, it’s a Monday. Wouldn’t be as busy as usual, I’d wager,” Stede replied from the phone sitting on a towel at the edge of the tub. Ed could picture the coy grin Stede would have on the other end of the call. 

“I’d save you a spot of a fucking Saturday, mate.” Ed countered.

“Would you, now? I’ve seen the place on Saturday. It’s a madhouse.”

“Still, you have a spot, guaranteed. Maybe not for, like, your whole family. But just you? Yeah, anytime.”

“Well, I assure you, I do intend to get out on my own as soon as I’m deemed healed enough by Mary,” Stede said as Ed shifted about in the water. “Honestly, I’m not sure how you haven’t gone running for the hills. Me living with a woman who is still, technically, my wife and who seems to be taking great pleasure in mother henning me to death.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into,” Ed said, then instantly winced.

Sometimes Ed thought he was doing really good with remember what not-ghost Stede had told him and what Stede had shared as the Gent. Other times he wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t just said something dangerously stupid. 

“Well, I did mention I was married before. And our, uh, circumstances.”

“Never mentioned the wife had a lover on the side, though!” Ed said a bit too loud, a bit too jovial. Because fuck him, he really couldn’t play any of this cool, could he? 

“No, I didn’t,” Stede was frowning; Ed could tell. Amused but confused all at once. 

Ed palmed his face with a wet smack and quietly cursed himself.

“Anyway, I’m quite thankful you aren’t fleeing at the mess of my life,” Stede, bless him, carried on like nothing weird happened. “Really, with my stuck living here for a little while, and then there’s the likelihood I’ll have to go to court or whatnot to testify against Chauncey.”

“You’re worth it,” Ed said without question.

“You don’t know me,” Stede replied quietly after a brief pause.

“I do,” Ed turned toward the phone, and spoke in soft tones. “I know you, Stede Bonnet. More than you realize.”

“I suppose I can say the same,” Stede replied, his voice gentle and fond. “Sometimes it feels like-“

“Dad!” Louis’s voice came through the speaker loud and sudden enough that Ed jolted, cursing and sloshing water around, though thankfully not on his phone.

“Louis, what have we told you about knocking?” Stede asked with strained patience and not a little annoyance. But he didn’t raise his voice or curse, didn’t outright dismiss Louis. It had Ed wondering how on Earth Stede thought he was a terrible father. Then again, Ed’s old man set the bar pretty low for what a good father actually was.

“But it’s story time!” 

“It doesn’t matter. We still knock before entering someone’s bedroom. I know your mother has asked you repeatedly to do that.”

“But this isn’t your bedroom,” Louis countered with confusion.

Stede huffed.

“Technically, you’re right. It’s not. My bedroom is on my boat. But while I’m staying here, it’s my room, and you’re expected to show the same courtesy you would show your mother and sister.”

“What about Doug? Doug doesn’t really live here. He’s sleeping in your room with mum, so does that mean-“

“Louis.”

“Can we read the one about Peter Pan?”

Ed was barely holding back his laugh, resulting in something that sounded a little like a wheezing whistle. 

He nearly cracked at Stede’s long-suffering sigh on the other end.

“Ed, I’m sorry.”

Taking a deep breath, Ed got himself together so he could reply.

“No, mate, you take care of the lil’ captain. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Ed,” Stede said in that way of his that had Ed fucking swooning.

“Yep, night,” he said, hanging up before he did something stupid. Or say something stupid because Stede made him stupid. 

Groaning, Ed ran his wet hands over his face a few times before lightly hitting his head against the wall behind him. 

How soon was too soon to admit being in love? People got married within weeks of meeting each other, didn’t they? At first sight was a thing people believed in, wasn’t it? 

“Fuck if I know,” He said to himself. For a single, fleeting second, he almost texted Lucius. But then his good sense came back to him, and Ed decided he would spend the rest of the night in bed, watching shit and maybe possibly texting Stede once he was done with the kids’ storytime.

~S~

“Umm, where are you going?” Oluwande asked rather sharply as Stede headed for the library exit.

“To lunch,” Stede replied, pausing to turn and face Oluwande at the reception desk where he was taking over for Stede’s lunch hour.

The staff - mainly Oluwande and Frenchie - absolutely refused to let Stede do anything else but man the desk when he came back to work. He wasn’t even allowed to scan in returns, as far as they were concerned, though he did it anyway. He was fairly certain Mary had something to do with it.

“You have a bagged lunch,” Oluwande pointed over his shoulder to the corridor behind him that led to the staffroom.

“Actually, I don’t. I left it at home,” Stede smirked as Oluwande’s jaw dropped. “I’m going out.”

“Where?” 

“Where I want to go.”

“Why?”

Stede narrowed his eyes at his right-hand man.

There was a part of Stede that wanted to be petulant and tell Oluwande it wasn’t his business. But while that part roared to the front immediately it simmered down just as quickly. Oluwande was just worried about him, curious. Everyone in his life was, so he thought he would tell the truth.

“I have a date.” 

Oluwande’s eyes got huge, eyebrows climbing high in surprise.

“You have a date?” He repeated skeptically.

“Is that really so hard to believe?” Stede asked, though he really didn’t want to hear the answer. 

Oluwande, bless him, seemed to know that and merely waved Stede off. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was reaching for something under the counter, which was probably his phone. 

Their circle of friends, however small it might be, was going to know about this within seconds, and Stede was certain his own phone would be riddled with messages in no time.

He stepped outside and found his ride waiting for him, having ordered a taxi service before he left the staff room. He wasn’t allowed to drive yet, Mary or Doug dropping him off in the morning and usually picking him up in the evenings. 

It made this whole venture feel like sneaking out all the more. He didn’t do a lot of that in his youth. There wasn’t much point to it since he wasn’t actually invited anywhere, not until he was out on his own. 

When the taxi dropped him off at the door, Stede almost regretted not asking the man to wait a moment. The restaurant was actually quite busy for a Monday afternoon, with a few parties waiting around for a table.

Approaching the podium, the hostess looked up from whatever she’d been looking at to offer Stede a bland smile.

“Hello, welcome to Blackbeard’s. Table for one?”

“Yes, please. How long will it be?”

“Umm,” she said as she started to tap against a screen. “It’s going to be a bit. What’s the name?”

“Bonnet, Stede.” He told her, glancing over his shoulder at the other people waiting. 

“Oh,” She said, and he turned to see the hostess’s eyes were wide. Funny, the same sort of thing happened when Mary checked them in when she brought them here to celebrate Stede’s release from the hospital. 

The hostess looked up at Stede with a grin too wide and stiff to be genuine. “Take a seat at the bar, please. The Bartender will direct you when you get there.” She said, waving him in.

He ignored the grumbles of some of the waiting guests and gave the hostess a smile and nod before heading off. 

The bartender seemed to be watching for him, pointing to a stool closest to the kitchen and handing Stede a menu when he sat down.

Stede perused it after ordering an iced tea, trying to decide what he was in the mood for. 

He still hadn’t decided when a shadow fell over his spot. Lowering his menu, Stede looked up and beamed.

“You know, I never said before, but you look quite dashing in a chef’s coat.” He complimented Ed as he couldn’t help give him a once-over.

“I thank you,” Ed grinned back before leaning on the bar. “So, what are you having today, then?”

“Not sure. Any recommendations?”

“Fish, can’t go wrong with it.”

“I’ll have something of that variety, then,” Stede grinned as he slid the menu away from him. “I trust you to know what I like.”

Ed winked, a cheeky thing with a click of his tongue before he pushed off the bar and headed back into the kitchen.

Stede reached for the menu again just to hide his blush, not that it was going to do any good. Anyone who was in earshot probably watched the whole interaction and caught Stede’s reaction.

Gosh, he was utterly infatuated with the man.

As he was staring at the dessert menu he already had memorized, trying to get himself under control, Stede heard a voice he hadn’t missed during his convalescence down at the other end of the bar.

“I realize we only just re-did the fucking menus, but he’s got new shit he wants to put out. So we’re gonna fucking change them, aren’t we?”

The manager - though Stede never did catch the man’s name - was getting as much in the bartender’s face as his height allowed. Which frankly wasn’t much, but that really wasn’t the point.

“Alright, fine,” The bartender said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Was just wondering why, is all.”

“Well, no one asked you to fucking think,” the manager snarled.

Stede narrowed his eyes at him, glaring hard enough that he knew the anger thing would eventually turn his way.

And he did. What was weird, though, was his reaction. He almost seemed surprised to see Stede there. Actually, it looked like the little angry man had seen a ghost.

At the man’s widened eyes, Stede gave a smirk and a little wave with his good hand. 

“Lovely day, isn’t it?” He asked the stunned man.

It seemed to snap him out of the shock, his glower back in full force.

“Mr. Bonnet,” He said through a clenched jaw.

Stede frowned, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure. Though, given our numerous interactions in the past, I suppose ‘pleasure’ is most certainly the wrong word.”

Before the manager could respond, Ed came backing out of the kitchen carrying two plates, one in each hand. 

Ed turned to Stede with an affectionate twinkle in his eye as he set the two identical plates down on the bar top.

“Kept it simple; hope you don’t mind,” Ed said as he reached below and brought out two sets of cutlery. 

“Never,” Stede assured, feeling all warm and fuzzy when he realized that Ed was intending to eat with him. “You’re staying?”

“Man’s gotta eat, doesn’t he?” 

“Edward. A word,” the manager said, getting right into Ed’s personal space. So much so that Ed had to lean back a bit to look at him.

“Would you fuck off? I’m with Stede right now.”

“Yeah, and if you hadn’t fucking noticed, we’re a bit busy at the moment.”

“And I have a half-dozen highly skilled chefs in my kitchen right now keeping up with things. I wouldn’t have left them in a lurch, Iz, and I haven’t eaten anything since six o’clock this morning. Fuck off.”

Iz, or whatever his name was, stayed where he was for a moment before giving Stede a nasty glare and storming off in a huff.

“Can’t believe you hired that guy. He’s a complete asshole.”

“Yeah, you’ve said,” Ed chuckled.

“Have I?” Stede asked.

Ed, who was half-hunched over his plate, went utterly still. He did that at least once every time they met up, Stede noticed. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it that he could discern, aside from Stede wondering if he’d actually said something Ed commented on and just couldn’t remember.

As he did the other times, Stede wracked his brain for when he might have mentioned whatever topic had Ed freeze up. In this case: Ed’s surly manager. Maybe it was via an anecdote from one of his previous encounters. He knew for a fact he had ranted to Blackbeard1718 about the angry little man, relaying some of the stories those encounters produced. He even knew Ed had ranted about Izzy - or his manager - and how uptight and pissy he could be, but he didn’t think Ed had ever mentioned the name in those messages.

Honestly, how Stede hadn’t connected the two - a local with the screen name and a restaurant that shared it both with an angry, bitter man associated with them - was beyond him. Sometimes his own obliviousness made him cringe.

“No matter,” Stede waved it off. “Just, well… if he ever told you that a customer wants you to suck eggs in hell, know that I wouldn’t have said it if I had known it was you.”

That had Ed looking up with a smirk, shoulders shaking a bit.

“I do remember hearing about that,” He admitted. “Izzy was disgusted. Me, I found it fascinating.”

“Well, good to know that fascination carries on when you can’t connect me to me.” Then Stede looked pointedly to the empty stool next to him. “Your knee can’t enjoy that position all that much.”

“Oh, now he wants to discuss positions in my place of work,” Ed said a little too loudly as he made his way around the bar to join Stede. “That’s workplace harassment.”

“You’re right. Suppose that means you’ll be kicking me out, then? Banning me for life?” Stede mused.

He felt Ed’s ankle knock against his, thinking it was just Ed shifting around until the ankle stayed there despite what had to be an awkward angle. Stede adjusted, leaning his own ankle into Ed’s space, balancing his foot on the footrest of the stool by the tips of his toes.

Worth it, though. 

“Suppose that depends,” Ed said as he started digging into his meal. “You gonna buy me dinner first?”

“At your own restaurant?”

“No, I mean somewhere else. Maybe somewhere fancy or some shit. Or, you know, the fucking grilled cheese truck outside your library. Don’t really care.”

“Oh, no offense to Black Pete, but you’re worth more than a grilled cheese.” Stede paused to take a bite of his fish. Groaning in approval, he swallowed and said, “and given how you cook, I think it’s safe to say you deserve some place nearly as excellent as your own.”

“Know of somewhere around here that does that sort of thing?”

“How do you feel about French food?”

“Hate the French. Fucker that messed up that order? Was French.”

Stede had no idea what Ed was talking about but decided not to say anything.

“Then how about Italian?”

“I honestly don’t care, mate. We could do anything, go anywhere.”

“Except to a French place,” Stede said a bit too fondly for someone who only had a handful of face-to-face interactions with Ed.

“Except that, yep,” Ed said before taking another bite, allowing a comfortable silence to fall between them.

“So, what are you doing on Friday?” Ed asked after they got through about a third of their meals.

“Not sure. Why do you ask?”

“My day off. Usually, I go to the farmer’s market. Thought maybe you would want to join me.”

The corner of Stede’s lip ticked up slightly. “I would love that.”

“Great. Very good. So, um… shall I come get you, or?”

“You could,” Stede agreed, feeling all warm and fuzzy at the idea. “Not sure if I should ride the bike, though.”

“Just hold on tight. I won’t mind,” Ed replied with a smirk.

Stede huffed a chuckle, feeling his face heat up at the idea of being pressed up against Ed’s back. Admittedly, it’s not the first time it crossed his mind. 

They finished their lunch, and Stede expected Ed to get up right away, but he didn’t. Instead, he lingered with Stede a little longer, hand inching ever closer until, eventually, their fingers were partially entwined. 

“So I might have overheard there will be a menu change,” Stede said after a bit. “A certain dish you had me try wouldn’t be making its way on it, would it?”

Ed shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

“Maybe,” He said. 

“Well, it was quite good. I’m looking forward to having it again.” Then, looking down at their fingers, the way they looped around each other in a loose lock, Stede admitted, “It was wonderfully familiar. I can’t put my finger on why, but it was.”

Ed’s fingers, which had started to skim along the edges of Stede’s, stilled.

“Oh.” He choked out.

“Is that a bad thing?” Stede peeked up at him. Only instead of whatever Stede was expecting to find - which would have been something like shame or maybe bitterness - Ed looked hopeful.

“No, mate,” Ed breathed out. “No, it’s not a bad thing at all. What, ah… what was it that made it familiar.”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Stede chuckled self-consciously. “It’s just… I can’t really describe it. I just feel like I’ve tasted it before, but I know I haven’t.”

Ed continued to stare at Stede like he was a bloody wonder, which made no sense to Stede at all. What could he possibly have done to earn such a look?

“If you could get back to your fucking job sometime today,” Izzy came out of nowhere, scowling at Ed and breaking whatever bubble they had found themselves in. 

“Lighten up, Iz,” Ed tried to shrug it off, only loosening his grip on Stede’s hands a little.

“It’s fucking business hours, and Blackbeard can’t be seen out here canoodling with a fucking ponce.”

“Watch what you say,” Ed said in a deceptively calm voice, eyes darkening with something Stede would be a bit wary of if he didn’t feel like he had nothing to fear from Ed.

Much as he wanted to stick around, Izzy be damned, Stede knew he was probably sticking around too long himself. There was still work to be done at the library, and Oluwande to relieve of desk duty.

“I’ll leave you to it,” He said calmly, giving Ed’s hand as much of a squeeze as he could manage before getting up and straightening his jacket. Slyly, he leaned into Ed and mumbled, “looks like there’s trouble in paradise.”

Ed scoffed, but the twinkle in his eye was back as he looked over his shoulder at Stede, “Call you tonight?”

“Of course,” Stede assured with a grin.

He turned, ignoring the hissing behind him as he took out his phone to order himself a taxi.

There were, as predicted, numerous texts from his friends, all congratulating him on his date. Lucius, oddly, asked if there was anything, in particular, that spurred him on into agreeing to it. He frowned at that but figured it was probably just Lucius being Lucius. 

It was only after that he noted the time and could frankly understand why Izzy was in such a tizzy.

They’d been at the bar for nearly two hours.

~E~

“What the hell are you doing?” Izzy demanded. 

“I was having a nice fucking time, is what I was doing,” Ed shot back, glancing about - particularly at the retreating Stede - to make sure no one was paying attention. “You wanna talk to me about behavior during business hours? This, man,” Ed said, jabbing the bar top. “This, right now? Not cool.”

“Someone has to remind you that he’s not worth your fucking time.”

“Who the fuck are you to tell me who’s worth my time?” Ed growled lowly. “You are my manager, not my boss, and certainly not anything more personal than a friend. And if you fucking come to me and tell me who is and isn’t worth my time again, I’m gonna do that thing I know gets you all hot and bothered: jab a knife in someone’s hand. Only it’ll be yours. And I promise you, Iz, it’ll be the only thing I stick into you for the rest of your fucking, miserable life. Understand?”

Izzy swallowed, flushing either from embarrassment or something else, Ed had no idea. He didn’t want to look too closely at it either way, and when Izzy gave a single solitary nod, Ed grinned.

“Very good,” He said, clapping Izzy on the shoulder. “Now get back to work.”

Ed made his way around the bar, heading for the kitchen and pausing. 

“Oh, and Iz?” He said over his shoulder, waiting for Izzy to look over at him. “If you take your frustrations -whatever sort they may be - out on the crew? You’re gonna find yourself on a nice, long, mandatory vacation.” He patted the doorway before popping into the kitchen.

He doubted their conversation was overheard, given the general ruckus from the work going on in the kitchen, but every single chef flashed Ed an amused grin as he went to clean up and get back to work.

Chapter Text

“How’d it go?” Ed asked Stede as he climbed out of the taxi at the foot of his driveway. 

In the background of the call, Stede could hear the clamor of the kitchen faintly, making him picture Ed as he once described himself taking his breaks: sitting on a crate just outside the kitchen door.

It was the middle of the afternoon, so Stede didn’t exactly picture the paper and cheap pastry Ed confessed to always having, but he heard him take a sip of something when he answered.

A warm wave of contentment wrapped itself around Stede at realizing how well he knew the man. Then sternly reminded himself that nothing about this was exactly new, and he really had to stop thinking of it in such a way. They were hardly strangers when they met.

“It went well,” Stede replied, closing the taxi door and giving the driver a lift of his casted hand for a wave. Turning to make his way to the walkway, he meandered slowly toward the house. “I should get the cast off next week, and my neurologist says the coma shouldn’t have any lasting effects. All in all, I’m a lucky bugger.”

“Course you are,” Ed said with a smile to his tone. “So I guess we can still do the market tomorrow, then?”

“I believe so,” Stede smiled a little wider. “And I have a reservation for us somewhere for Saturday night when you’re finished work. At eight.”

“Really?” Ed asked with a nervous chuckle. “That was quick.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, my name does pull weight,” Stede said as he spotted the kids playing in the backyard, their heads just visible over the fence. 

Odd, since Stede was pretty certain Mary hadn’t liked the idea of them doing so when they knew the gardener was supposed to be working. Stede glanced over his shoulder at the street, spotting the gardener’s van just out of view as expected. 

“I gotta dress up all hoity-toity?” Ed asked, pulling Stede back to the conversation.

Shaking the frown from his face, he took a quick second to close his eyes and focus.

“Not at all. Business casual will do. Nice shirt, casual pants. A jacket, maybe.”

“Guessing you don’t mean leather.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable-“

“Nah, mate, s’fine. Got some shit in the back of my closet when I used to have to show up to the posh knob parties and show off my massive aggression.”

Stede stopped a moment, mouth twisting as he tried not to grin.

“Do you mean passive aggression?” He asked, barely containing his amusement.

“Maybe,” Ed retorted casually, making Stede’s chest shake with a quiet chuckle. “I’d go somewhere naked if you wanted me to.”

“Oi, not at work, hombre!” Stede heard Jim shout, followed by a string of Spanish that was probably them cursing Ed out in a dozen different ways.

“Flattered as I am, they do have a dress code,” Stede retorted, carrying on closer to the house. “And besides, if there’s going to be nudity, I’d prefer if-oh, fuck .”

“That’s the idea,” Ed quipped, but Stede’s humor was long gone. 

Through the sitting room window, barely visible but recognized all the same, was Jane, his mother-in-law.

“Fucking hell,” Stede grumbled, actually physically looking over his shoulder in hopes that somehow the taxi would reappear for him to run back to and bring him anywhere else.

Sadly, it didn’t, which meant Stede was stuck facing the woman.

“Stede?”

“Ed, I have to go. Mary’s mother’s here.”

“Well, by your tone, that will be a delightful visit. Talk later?”

“Yes, of course, darling,” He said before ringing off. He was at the front door before he realized what he’d said and gave another curse.

While they were, in fact, dating it was still sort of somewhat unofficial. Stede couldn’t even be sure it was exclusive, though he had a feeling it was. And while he was very much in love with Ed, there was no certainty it was reciprocated. Calling him “darling” was likely outing himself, and he could only hope that slip of a petname didn’t send Ed spiraling the rest of the day, or result in him calling off their outings.

Now was not the time to have a spiral of his own, either. Not with Jane inside. 

Stede braced himself, straightening his spine before turning the knob and stepping inside.

“Stede?” Mary’s voice called cautiously as though braced for someone else to have entered.

“Yes, it’s me,” He called back as he shut the door and toed off his shoes. “Just me,” he added, in case that was needed. 

He moved to the sitting room, pausing in the doorway to take in the scene.

Mary was thin-lipped, a mostly full cup of coffee clutched white-knuckled in her hands, and a murderous glint in her eyes. She was clearly not expecting Jane to have dropped by since she was in her comfortable attire, specks of paint dotting her linen trousers and t-shirt, and her hair was pulled back in a bun.

Jane was sitting posture-perfect, daintily holding the mug with one hand around the handle and the palm of the other resting beneath it. Stede could tell at a glance her sundress was designer, part of this season's collection, no doubt, and probably cost more than what he and Mary were wearing combined.

Each woman was sitting in chairs placed on opposite ends of the coffee table, turned to face one another.

Jane gave Stede one of her patented false smiles that would have a lesser man think she was actually glad to see them.

“Stede,” She said as if she held affection for her son-in-law. Which, in fairness, Jane did in her own way. They were always rather civil to each other, and Stede’s knowledge of fashion had won him points even if she was always a bit unsettled by it.

“Jane,” He greeted with a nod. “How are you?”

“Well,” Jane started thoughtfully, but Mary interrupted her with a sharp, “mother.”

Stede took a deep breath, put on a fake smile, and made his way to the couch. He took a spot nearest to Mary in a show of solidarity. In the past, he might have chosen the center of the couch for balance. Not that he wouldn’t have eventually scooted closer to his wife, but in the past, he would have tried to be the peacekeeper between them, at least in the beginning.

He flashed Mary a grin before he reached for a mug on the tray next to the French press and the usual coffee additions. After he righted it, bringing it closer, he went for the press.

“Mary, you really should be doing that for him,” Jane said as Stede clumsily prepared a cup.

“Oh, it’s fine, Jane,” Stede brushed it off, glancing to make sure this was the right move with Mary. The grateful glint in her eye had him adding, “I do this at work daily. I promise it’s no big deal.” 

Once he had his cup prepared and in hand, he glanced first to Mary and then to Jane for some sign of where to go from there.

The silence ticked by a moment before the latter spoke up.

“Well, it’s so good to see you’ve recovered so well,” Jane said with surprising sincerity. 

“Thank you,” He said with a nod, taking his first sip. 

“I’m sure it certainly put things into perspective, the accident and all,” Jane added as she brought her cup carefully to her lips. 

“Yes, yes,” Stede said, smelling a trap but not sure when or how it would spring. “It certainly makes one think of what’s important,” He added with a polite smile.

Jane beamed back, just as polite. 

“Of course,” She agreed. “So, I’m sure you agree - now more than ever - that this whole divorce nonsense is simply that: nonsense.”

Stede froze.

“Um,” He said, glancing at Mary in confusion. To his knowledge, they hadn’t told anyone outside their immediate family and closest friends. They weren’t supposed to until after the divorce papers were signed. Because of the accident, their lawyer recommended drafting a new set to ensure there were no complications that could crop up because of medical bills or the like. 

It was actually something he and Mary had huffling agreed would be smart, and the pair had lamented about in solidarity.

He must have looked a bit too surprised by Jane’s knowledge of the situation because she pursed her lips and looked accusingly at Mary.

“Or… did you not know?” She asked Stede while focusing on her daughter.

“I knew!” Stede rushed out. “I just didn’t know… you did.”

“Yes, well. I don’t think I was supposed to,” Jane said sharply, and Mary’s cheeks turned positively crimson.

“Yes, well, as I said then,” Mary replied, just as prickly despite her embarrassment, “You also weren’t supposed to have a key to my home, but here we are.”

“I told you I made a copy after Louis was born.”

“Didn’t I give you the spare strictly so you could be here with Alma?” Stede asked.

Jane shrugged innocently, taking another sip of her coffee as if copying her daughter’s house key was no big deal.

“Yeah, I gotta remember to change the locks now that you’re home,” Mary grumbled behind her cup.

“See, you still think of Stede as being home. I’m sure the little arrangement you two had could continue on.” Jane encouraged.

“Hang on, arrangement?” Stede asked Mary, because surely that hadn’t come up.

“Well, I assume there was one,” Jane waved it off, setting her cup just so on a coaster. “Either way, the names of Bonnet and Allamby are going to be all over the papers for a long time coming, what with that foul cretin Badminton and the whole business regarding that. Sarah and I are both adamant that the two of you keep up appearances. If for no other reason then for Alma and Louis. Imagine tarnishing their future reputations in society because while this whole thing went on, their parents divorced!”

Stede and Mary shared a long-suffering glance.

“Mum, we’re divorcing. The papers are only being redone to cover all additional possibilities because of Stede’s accident. But as far as he and I are concerned, we are done. You weren’t even supposed to know!”

“Well, I do. And while you and I have had this conversation - among others - already, I’m sure Stede can see reason.”

Jane said while pointedly holding Stede’s gaze.

“I’m sure I can,” He said flippantly. 

Jane seemed to take this as a win as she stood with a nod. Smoothing down her skirt, she waited until Mary and Stede were on their feet before she grinned.

“I’ll call on you sometime in a couple of weeks,” She said to Mary as Mary walked her to the door. 

Stede remained in the sitting room, listening to all the usual and polite goodbyes. When Mary came back in, hands pressed to her cheeks, he merely arched a brow and smirked at her.

“Arg!” She groaned before shoving her hands to her sides in fists. “Right, so, um… when you were in the hospital, mum might’ve… walked in on me and Doug.”

A bark of laughter escaped Stede before he managed to clamp his lips shut.

Mary glared at him, but there was a hint of amusement she couldn’t quite hide.

“And when she lectured me from the hallway while Doug and I scrambled to get our clothes on, he might have,” She paused, cringing, “have promised that it wasn’t because I was married. That he would still be around when you and I divorced and would marry me himself if I would have him.”

A giggle escaped Stede’s tightly pressed lips, but Mary also grinned a touch, which made him feel a bit better for finding this all hilarious.

“Well, at least you didn’t go around lamenting that I didn’t sign the papers before.”

“Oh, I totally did,” She assured as she made her way to the chair she had vacated and threw herself into it. “Had a right fit that they came two days after you were in the bloody hospital. Part of it was fear, I think. Didn’t want you to die.”

“Because you do love me a little,” Stede said as he returned to his spot on the couch.

“No, because it would make me a widow, and I would have to bloody well wait a year or so to actually be with Doug openly. One thing for a divorced woman to be out on the town with a bloke soon after it all ends, but a widow? And a widow to a man who died in a hit and run? People would say I did it myself.”

“You wouldn’t take out a hit on me,” Stede scoffed. “If you wanted me dead, you’d do it yourself. With a pillow in my sleep.”

“A skewer,” Mary said a bit too quick. “Right in the ear.” She glanced at Stede and shrugged, “read it in a book once.”

“Right,” Stede said tightly, and Mary burst into a fit of giggles. “Well, rest assured, I very much do not want to be your husband anymore.”

Mary’s smile turned, knowing, “you wanna be someone else’s. Maybe a certain chef’s?”

Stede blushed but said nothing. There really wasn’t a need to.

~E~

Ed stopped outside of the Bonnet house and simply… stared.

Yeah, he still couldn’t wrap his head around it, reminding him starkly again that he and Stede really did come from two separate worlds. The house was still as big and white as he remembered, and was sort of glad he wasn’t expected to go inside.

Because he knew it would give away the fact that he’d already been there before. Somehow. Sort of like how it occurred to him on the way over that he shouldn’t have had a fucking clue how to even get there. Because Stede hadn’t sent him the address, Ed just said he was on his way. 

It was going to send Ed into a mental breakdown, fucking up this much. 

Stede came out shortly after Ed kicked the stand, having not cut the engine yet, or even moved to take off his helmet. He lifted his visor, noting Stede had his own helmet tucked under his arm and a leather jacket in place of the blazers Ed was so used to seeing him in.

“Morning,” He said shyly. Gesturing with his arm in the cast, he added, “Looks odd, I know, the sleeve all loose, but I couldn’t get the cast in otherwise.”

It was loose, the wrist open and flapping a bit. 

“Better than nothing. You look good in leather,” Ed noted.

He realized when Stede got closer that the jacket wasn’t black like Ed’s but a very deep green with a slight blue shimmer. Same with the helmet that Stede bashfully handed to Ed.

“Mind helping me?”

“Sure, mate,” He said as he reached for it, putting the helmet gently on Stede’s head. “Didn’t realize you’d have one, usually keep a spare in the seat.”

“I used to ride with an old… friend,” Stede said, reminding Ed a bit too much of some of the things he shouldn’t know about. Like, for instance, that little fact along with how long ago it had been since he had probably interacted with that “friend.”

He should probably ask. It would be weird not to ask about an obvious ex when it was presented because Ed shouldn’t know any of it.

“How long ago was that, then?” He asked as he clipped the helmet under Stede’s chin.

“Before Mary,” Stede replied. “Had to dig both of these out of storage, to be honest. Just glad the jacket still fits.”

“You fit in something you’ve had for more than eleven years. Think that says you’re doing pretty good for yourself.” Ed said as Stede made to climb on the bike behind him.

“Never realized I said how long we’d been married for,” Stede said with a bright tone, and Ed cringed a bit.

“Took a guess,” Ed said over his shoulder as he felt the bike shift. “Your daughter, she’s about ten, figured… you know. Math.”

“Yes. Math,” Stede chuckled behind him. “Well, the jacket is actually about twelve years old, actually. Kept it in good condition just in case, but I didn’t think I’d be wearing it again.”

“Looks good on you. Fuck, already said that.”

Stede giggled, then slipped his arm around Ed’s waist and held firm.

“Right, ready, then?” Ed asked as he closed his visor.

“I am,” He heard Stede say, feeling two pats against his stomach.

With that, Ed kicked off.

~*~

Their visit to the farmer’s market was pretty similar to their first one together, except at least now Stede was flesh and blood beside him. He still made little commentary about the banana bitch who happened to be back again, still complaining about the fruit to the vendor. Only now, the commentary was said practically in Ed’s ear, a gentle buzz no one else would hear, but there was a possibility that they could.

It had sent a thrill down Ed’s spine and made guilt curl in his chest.

Stede still reached for Ed’s arm to pull him along to all sorts of little booths with all kinds of yummy-smelling things. Only now, his hand didn’t pass through, and Ed was temporarily branded with warmth each time. It was making it harder to remember to act like he hadn’t experienced all this before. That he hadn’t touched Stede’s favorite textiles or smelled Stede’s favorite soaps. That they hadn’t shared long, intimate conversations with the air scented with lavender and lemon. That Ed didn’t know things about Stede that he really shouldn’t because, to Stede’s knowledge, he’d never shared them.

And when they arrived at the marmalade lady’s stand - Ed really should learn her name - Stede went for the samples with gusto where he hadn’t been able to before.

“Gosh, Ellen, this one is fabulous. I’m going to need a jar of this one. Ed, did you try this one?” 

Stede turned to offer Ed the other half of the cracker in his hand, spread with a deep red preserve. It looked and smelled familiar, likely one she had a month ago.

Marmalade Lady - Ellen, apparently - knowingly smirked at them but still glanced away as if to give them privacy.

Ed took the opportunity to bite the cracker right out of Stede’s fingers.

He had had it before. It was a jar he’d bought in his half-panic the last trip. But Stede didn’t know that. 

“It’s good,” He said approvingly as he nodded, not needing to fake it, but maybe he didn’t have the enthusiasm behind it he should have.

“Friend of a friend?” Ellen asked, quirking one brow at Ed. 

“What?” Ed replied, feeling a little wrong-footed.

“When we met last month, you said you heard about us from a friend of a friend.”

“He is,” Ed said defensively.

“I am?” Stede blinked. 

“Umm.”

“Mr. Teach hadn’t said who it was but mentioned they said we make the best marmalade. Sound familiar?” Ellen asked Stede with a conspiratorial grin.

Stede blushed, but only faintly. His confusion grew a bit more, though, as he looked between Ed and Ellen.

“Well, I mean… it does. I do say that. But… I mean… who would have told you I said that?”

There were a few answers Ed could have said. Lucius being the first, of course, followed by Jim through Oluwande hearing it from Stede. Hell, even Olu himself could have told Ed on the rare occasion the staff of Blackbeard’s got together for a staff party where partners were welcome. 

But Ed couldn’t think of any of them right now. Not a single one. Because he had, of course, forgotten he had said that when meeting marmalade Ellen for the first time. 

Stede wasn’t offering anything, either, which meant it was unlikely he waxed poetic about marmalade to people aside from Ed. Or….

Oh, it had just hit Ed upside the head that Stede likely hadn’t a damn clue how many people they were actually connected through. Didn't know about Lucius’s and Ed’s connection, probably didn’t even realize Ed considered Jim a friend, and knew Oluwande worked for Stede.

It hadn’t come up yet. To Stede, there had been no way he was ever a friend of a friend. 

“Ex-therapist,” Ed choked out just to say something. “He, um… heard. From… yeah.”

And that was bad. That was terrible, and all three of them knew it because why in the hell would he and his therapist just happen to be talking about fruit preserves?

Stede frowned a little deeper, eyes going a touch out of focus for a moment. Then he blinked hard, shook his head, and smiled at Ellen.

“See! Word’s catching on, then! Between word of mouth and Blackbeard’s, I dare say you’ll be making quite the name for yourself.” 

Ellen took that at face value and nodded appreciatively. She and Stede chatted for a few more minutes while Stede bought a few jars, and then they departed from the stall.

Ed wasn’t even sure where they were going, hands deep in his jean pockets, his bag of produce slung on his shoulder. He wasn’t paying any attention to anything but the torrent of shit, shit, shit on repeat in his head.

He hadn’t counted on something like that happening. Hadn’t figured it would come up, but that was really stupid of him, wasn’t it? And with the amount of things he kept saying that he shouldn’t, he would have to come clean soon. But how do you say you were haunted by someone when they were in a coma, and the two of you had a whole fucking thing while it happened?

It’s how you scare off a bloke you’d sign your fucking life away for in heartbeat, is what it was. 

“Ed?”

Stede pressed his hand to the small of Ed’s back, pulling Ed’s attention to him. Stede had deeper worry lines than smile lines, something Ed hadn’t noticed until now, forced to look at him with a frown once again.

“Are you alright?”

The right answer would be yes. The word was there, perched on Ed’s tongue, ready to be said. A simple “yes,” and everything could just go back to whatever it was. But Ed shook his head, finding he just couldn’t keep it up.

“Okay,” Stede said, glancing around. “Let’s go over there,” he pointed in some vague direction, and Ed went with it because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do anymore.

It turned out the vague direction was a park bench a bit away from the farmer’s market in the park. Near enough to the mall where the market was held, with a permanent coffee cart that Stede was able to dart away and get them something from while Ed got his shit together.

Ed wanted a drink, but coffee wasn’t it.

Stede came back with a little tray holding the two cups, setting it down on the bench between them. He eased out one and handed it to Ed, who took it mindlessly.

“I hope I got it right,” Stede said as Ed took a sip. 

“You did,” he managed to say as he looked at the cup.

“You want to talk about what happened? Why you seem to be having such a hard time?”

No. Ed really didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t know how. He didn’t want to talk about it because while he knew Stede well, this was something he couldn’t be sure the not-ghost version of him would react to well. 

But Ed was going to keep fucking up in new and exciting ways, and if he didn’t explain at least a little it might drive Stede further away.

Ed sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose a moment before dropping his hand in his lap heavily.

“I knew it was you who was in the accident,” He said, then realized it didn’t sound right. “I mean, I knew it was you as the Gent. Not you as… Stede. At first. Obviously, if I knew it was you, I’d know who you were, just….”

“You knew it was me?” Stede asked softly.

“I… I can’t explain it,” Ed met his eye pleadingly. “I can’t. There were things, Stede, and…. But Lucius, he was my therapist, and when I told him what happened with the Gent, he gave some strong hints as to what might have happened. And it went from there, and I probably wouldn’t have figured it out if it wasn’t for him and the things I can’t talk about.”

“Alright,” Stede said softly. His eyes darted over Ed’s face, calm and distant. 

Ed didn’t want distant. He wanted close, he wanted to pitch the stupid cardboard tray aside and close the gap between him and Stede. If it was possible, he would have the man live inside him again. But it wasn’t, so he wanted the next best thing, which would be to have Stede wrapped around him.

Only he may not even get that. Stede’s brow was furrowed in a way Ed wasn’t familiar with. He darted his gaze away to the market, a finger of his casted hand tapping a soundless rhythm against his leg. Stede looked a second away from springing to his feet and walking away from Ed and everything they were building together.

“Sorry,” Ed said, needing to get it out there, and Stede’s eyes snapped to his.

“Why?” he asked. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“I wasn’t honest.”

“No,” Stede agreed, pursing and twisting his lips a moment. “But it wasn’t something you really had to be honest with me about. Lucius never mentioned he knew who you were, and he could have mentioned the connection as well. He didn’t give names, correct? So there really isn’t a reason for me to be cross with either of you. Your past is your business, regardless of how much of that past was loosely tied to me. Frankly, if anything, it helps me understand how you didn’t tell me to fuck off after I never showed up.”

“Thought about it,” Ed admitted. “in the days after. But I guess I just couldn’t burn that bridge. And after I met with Lucius-“

“How long after? When you found out, how long after was it that you…?”

“A week? Maybe closer to two.” 

Stede nodded, offering Ed a hint of a smile.

Ed felt some of the weight of things slip off from his shoulders, and after a heavy sigh, chugged back half the coffee in the cup. 

“I also rented your boat,” Ed added, just to make sure there wasn’t anything else he could fuck himself over with. 

“Sorry?”

“I didn’t know it was yours,” Ed rushed to add with a placating gesture. “My fucking apartment was flooded, and the alternative was rooming with Izzy.” 

“Mary did say she rented it out.”

“I’m sounding like a fucking stalker.”

“A bit,” Stede said, a grin tugging at his lips. “Though this does afford me the opportunity to know why someone would rent a boat just to live on.”

“Says the man who owns the boat to live on.”

“I can sail it. Mary showed me the notice she posted, the terms of the rental. You couldn’t take it out past the buoys.”

Ed shrugged. “Like the ocean. Was something different. And again, Izzy.”

“He loves you,” Stede said, not unlike he did the first time he did. Kind and understanding, even if it was something he didn’t know the full scope of. And, maybe, with a small hint of jealousy behind it. Ed could hope he was hearing that bit right.

“He loves an idea, not me,” Ed shook his head. “A memory of someone I’m not anymore.” He glanced down at the cup in his hands. “But that aside, suppose this means tomorrow night’s outta the question.”

“Why would it be?” Stede asked.

Ed peeked over at him.

“Ed, you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing you said is what I would consider a-a deal breaker. Your therapist is -was? Well, Lucius knows us both, and it sounds like he’s more a friend to you than a therapist these days, and that’s fine. He helped you sort out who I was. Gosh, that means when you brought the food that day-“

“It’s not like I expected you would know who I was,” Ed said. He had hoped, of course, but he had tried to keep expectations relatively low.

“No, but… oh, Ed.” Stede’s face fell a moment before he shook his head. Then he squared his shoulders like he was pulling up his courage. “You lived on my boat? I was a regular at your restaurant for years . I was there the night of the accident, just before I left to meet you. It may not be where you live, Ed, but it’s your space.”

“Yeah, a public space.”

“Maybe so, but maybe I caught a glimpse of you at some point and just kept looking for you?”

“Did you?”

“I don’t know. But you’re familiar to me in a way I can’t place. Does that bother you?”

 “Of course not,” Ed said, rotating the cup in his hand, feeling the remaining liquid slosh about. “But it’s….” 

He startled at the feel of Stede’s fingers on his thigh, the weight of the cast pressing in.

“If you would rather we not continue seeing each other-“

“I don’t want that,” Ed rushed out, covering Stede’s hand gently with his own. “I just… Stede, when I said there is stuff I can’t tell you-“

“I trust that if you could, you would,” Stede assured. 

“Yeah,” Ed nodded. “Yeah, I would.”

“We can forget the whole thing you can’t tell me ever happened.”

Ed’s laugh was sad and a little deranged, but cathartic nonetheless.

“Not sure how well that’ll work.”

“How about I just say again that I trust if it matters in some way, you’ll tell me.”

Ed smiled, “Might work.”

“Good. Because maybe this makes me a lunatic, but I’m not sure I would properly care if you had stalked me a bit before we met. Given my position, I should probably look into people a bit more than I do, but I guess I would just rather go on faith.”

“You are a lunatic, but I like it,” Ed said, smile growing. 

Stede’s smile turned bashful, and he ducked his head a moment.

Ed just took him in, in awe of the crazy bastard who really didn’t give a shit about the things Ed was holding back. Maybe that will backfire if Stede ever remembered, but “beg forgiveness” and all that.

"Ed, are we dating? In an official capacity?"

Ed barked a laugh.

"Just went through a whole thing where I might be your stalker, and you wanna know if we’re, what? Going steady, or some shit? I mean, sure. Yeah. I think of this whole thing as. Ya know."

"Me too."

They stayed on the bench, hands together on Ed’s thigh that while they finished their coffees, smiling like dopey idiots and glancing at each other like a pair of infatuated teenagers. After their coffees were gone, they went back to looking through the market with pinkies hooked together until the hours were getting on, and the booths started shutting down.

Ed brought Stede home with the promise of seeing him tomorrow night at dinner, then returned to his own place.

As he put away his produce, Ed went over the day, running the whole thing through his mind and savoring all the little things that had him floating. Until his mind got stuck on one thing: Stede had been to Blackbeard’s the night they were supposed to meet.

It felt significant for some reason. Important. Ed couldn’t put his finger on why but it nagged all the same. 

"Fuck it," He said to himself, already deciding to forget about it. "Probably only 'cause I likely passed the bastard leaving to get ready."

Chapter Text

“You make … Ed happy.”

“You make Stede happy.”

“Don’t go yet, mate.”

Stede woke up feeling rather… confused. Why was he dreaming about being in a glass coffin and dressed in a rather ostentatious white suit? And Ed with a beard, dressed in purple, riding up to said coffin on his bike despite the coffin being in the forest?

No matter, really, dreams were just silly things that needed no mind paid to them, no matter how weird they were. Or how many of them he’d been having, though that one had been the oddest of them all. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he thought Lucius, Oluwande with Jim, Frenchie, Pete, and the strange man he’d glimpsed around the docks were there, dressed as pirates there, standing around the coffin he had been in in his dream.

Stede supposed his mind was getting rather bored with the mundane moments with Ed he’d been dreaming of before.

He got out of bed with a groan, rubbing his face with his good hand and taking a moment to wake up a bit more before getting up and putting his robe on. 

Stede then made his way down to the kitchen, where his family was already awake and going about getting breakfast ready.

“Morning,” He said to Mary, kissing the air by her cheek before he passed her for the coffee pot. “Morning, Doug,” He said as he place a hand on the man’s back, both in greeting and to let him know Stede was passing behind him.

“Morning, Stede! Eggs?”

“Ta,” Stede said absently as he went about making a cup of coffee. “Need help?”

“What are you going to do one-handed?” Mary asked as she continued cutting fruit.

“Flip bacon?” 

“And risk your robe?”

Stede pursed his lips. “I can flip pancakes.”

Mary snorted but gestured with a tilt of her head to the spot beside Doug where a bowl of batter was waiting. 

Stede took a sip of his coffee before setting it down on the counter by the bowl and went to work. Humming came naturally to him as he poured the batter in perfectly even circles, setting the bowl aside before snatching his preferred spatula. 

He flipped them at exactly the right time, then moved to get a plate to pile to put them on when the other side finished. He was wrapping up the second batch when he realized that Mary was looking at him a little funny.

“What?” he asked.

“You were humming.”

“Yes?”

“’Someday my prince will come?’”

“Had the strangest dream,” He said to her, glancing over his shoulder to see Alma and Louis were finished setting the table and now occupied with their tablets. Technically they weren’t supposed to have them at the table, but he decided their preoccupation was worth a bit of rule-breaking for the moment. Turning back to Mary, he added, “it was about Ed.”

“Oh?” She asked, a teasing grin starting to pull at her lips.

“Yes. I was… I know it’s silly, but  I think I was Snow White.”

Mary’s knife slipped off the apple she was chopping, though thankfully away from her. The knife clattered enough to have Doug ask if she was okay, but Mary waved it off.

“Snow White?” She said a little louder than was warranted. 

“Yes? I mean, not the Disney one, despite the song. You know, the show we used to watch, with the whole… thing? Anyway, more like that one. All dressed in white. Though, Ed was in purple, not red. ”

“And did he… did he kiss you? In this dream? And, um… wake you up?”

“I suppose so.” Stede frowned. “Funny thing is I think I woke up before I got to that part. I just sort of recognized the whole scene. And I was talking to him somehow, I believe. I dunno, dream things.”

He shrugged, but Mary was still staring at him wide-eyed.

“You have a date with him tonight, don’t you?” Doug asked, drawing Stede’s attention away from Mary and her odd reaction.

“I do,” He grinned. “Bit nervous, if I’m honest. Might have seen each other a few times now, but this feels more real somehow.”

“Might be because we have divorce papers to sign after breakfast,” Mary rallied, the eagerness in her tone washing away any strangeness from before.

Stede beamed. “So we do,” He said as he tended to the pancakes. “You’re bringing them to Abshir after lunch, yes?”

“Stede, I’ll get in the car with them as soon as the ink’s dry,” Mary stated. “Sooner he has them, sooner he gets them to the clerk’s office, sooner you and I are no longer legally bound.”

“You don’t have to sound so happy about it,” Stede ribbed, moving on to the final batch.

“Try and tell me it doesn’t make the idea of seeing Ed tonight that much better?” She retorted over her shoulder as she grabbed the bowl of fruit she finished cutting and brought it to the table.

He really couldn’t, and Stede wasn’t about to. So he went back to humming just a little louder than before.

~*~

“I can’t stay. I have to - fuck - I have to fucking go!” Ed growled, tossing a pan a bit more roughly than needed into the sink and accidentally causing an eruption of water to slosh on the poor bastard at the wash station.

“Chef!” Someone called.

“Whatever the fuck it is, figure it out your-fucking-self!” Ed roared. “The fuck am I paying any of you for if you need me to tell you how to wipe your own fucking ass, let alone make a dish you should be able to do in your goddamn sleep!”

It wasn’t a bad day. It wasn’t, not really . Somehow busier than usual for a Saturday right from the time the door opened, and last he overheard Izzy, they had a wait time long enough people could literally go to the other side of town and kill time while they waited for a text to tell them their table would be ready in a half hour. 

Normally, these were the sort of days that Ed would stay longer - especially when Roach and Jim were off. But he had a date with Stede, and now he was pretty certain it was too late to text him and tell him he wasn’t going to make it. 

Which he didn’t want to do, anyway. Maybe.

“It’s just, well… I’m not sure the sauce is supposed to look this… brown.”

Ed stormed over to the station and noticed that this particular cook was making his lemon-ginger marmalade dish. And he knew just from being in smelling distance what the problem was.

“How much fucking fish sauce did you put in this shit? You can smell the fucking stuff across the bloody kitchen. Toss this, start again, and use a fucking measuring cup if you have to. Fucking hell!” 

The cook blushed but nodded, ducking their head before immediately removing the pan from Ed’s presence.

Ed huffed, looked up at the doorway, and saw Izzy watching him.

“Whatever the fuck you wanna say, don’t,” Ed warned, the glee in Izzy’s eye outweighing the scowl on his lips.

“So, I shouldn’t tell you there’s a fucking twat waiting for you at the bar?” Izzy asked, throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “Or do I get the absolute pleasure of telling him to fuck off?”

Ed scowled at Izzy as he stormed past him, out of the kitchen and veering for the bar. 

He wasn’t ready to see Stede just yet, the stress from the day still hanging heavy on his shoulders. And he had to go back to his place to change. But glancing down the bar, he didn’t spot a single head of blonde that could possibly be Stede anywhere.

He did, however, note Lucius.

“You’re here for me?” Ed asked as he stepped past the busy bartenders, standing immediately across from Lucius with the bar top between them. He barely had elbow room, and the din of the dining room told Ed it was a full house. “How’d you even get in here, anyway? The wait is, like, three hours?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I may have used one of Stede’s aliases,” Lucius waved it off. “And yeah, here for you. ‘Cause both of you texted me about tonight, and while I was all ‘oh my god, this is happening,’ I got the sense that your thing about the date tonight was a lot less eager than Stede’s.”

“Right,” Ed said, because what else was there to say?

“And I may have sorta, kinda, maybe bugged Jim into giving me the time you were supposed to be off. Which was,” Lucius looked at his phone, “forty-five minutes ago.”

“Shit!” Ed cursed. “I have to be at the fucking restaurant in, like, an hour.”

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I got Dizzy Izzy over there to get you from out back,” Lucius gestured over Ed’s shoulder with a flirtatious grin and a little wink for Izzy.

“And I told you he’s a busy man,” Izzy said practically in Ed’s ear, he was standing so close.

“No, I have to get the fuck out of here,” Ed said before making his way around the other side of the bar. 

“We got a full house!” Izzy protested.

“You know you’re very expressive,” Lucius said as he got up from the stool, leaning over the counter and smiling coyly at Izzy. “I take art lessons, you know. Have you ever been sketched?”

“Go. Now.” Izzy warned.

“Bernie, put this guy's bill on the house. I’ll get you a tip tomorrow,” Ed called to the head bartender before he felt Lucius’s hand on his back, guiding him to turn around and actually leave the damn restaurant. 

“You know, give me about an hour alone in a locked room with that angry lil’ man, and I can pretty much guarantee he’d be a lot happier.” Lucius said as they weaved their way through the crowd.

“You know I have to get my shit, right?” Ed asked as Lucius gave him a shove when he tried to stop.

“Hush, I got Fang to go out back and get it when you were a half hour late. It’s all in my car.”

“What in the hell,” Ed grumbled as they made their way to the lobby. Lots of people in the gift shop, and even more people sitting around the lobby waiting to get in.

“You sounded panicked.”

“It’s a text.”

“A text can sound panicked. And I know how much it means to you, getting this right. So,” Lucius said as he steered Ed toward a simple red car. He opened the driver’s side door and handed Ed the keys. “You drive. I can’t have someone nervous in a car with me while I’m driving, I get all,” He flapped his hand around before moving over to the passenger side.

Ed, quite unsure how he got there, just decided to go with it.

It was weird driving a car, having been a few years since he last had to. But the thing was brand new and fairly automated, all things considered. Not a luxury, but more than Ed ever would have been able to afford at Lucius’ age.

“It was a gift from Stede and Mary,” Lucius said as if reading Ed’s mind before he looked out the passenger side window. “For graduating. Tried to do the whole ‘I can’t accept it’ thing, but not really hard. And Mary, she gets this look on her face like she could stab you in your sleep if she wanted to. So, you know, I just….”

“You really were better off with them, weren’t you?”

“Well, probably would’ve gotten a nicer car if I stayed in the closet a bit longer. Still, look on my dad’s face when he spotted me at the grocer getting out of this a few years back,” He said, patting the dashboard affectionately. “Worth it. Pretty sure the bastard thought he’d only ever find me on the streets instead of being successful.”

“Stede’s probably the only dad I ever met who wasn’t a dick to his kids.”

“Met a few. Are hard to come by, though,” Lucius agreed as they pulled up to Ed’s building. 

~*~

“Not sure why the fuck you’re still here,” Ed said as he came out of the bathroom from his shower. He’d had enough common sense to bring his boxers with him, which turned out to be a good thing when he found Lucius sitting on his bed.

One leg crossed over the other, hands clasped around his knee, he beamed up at Ed with a toothless grin. 

“In case you need someone to run your date outfit by,” he said with a shrug. “Or, you know. Do your hair. Any make-up you might wanna do. I’d offer your nails, but you don’t have a lot of time for that.”

“Fucking hell, you don’t need to keep reminding me,” Ed said as he went for his favorite jeans. 

“You really gonna wear that?” Lucius asked, and Ed tossed the pants at the man in a huff.

“What the fuck else am I gonna wear, then? Stede said business casual!”

“Yeah,” Lucius drawled, “But shiny jeans aren’t really that. Got those black ones you wore once? Made your ass look like you could bounce a quarter off it?”

Ed glared, but only half-hearted. He did know what jeans Lucius meant, and they did make his ass look fantastic. Not as good as the leather-looking ones, but fuck it. 

“What shirt?” Lucius asked, leaning back and tilting his head at a suspicious angle.

Ed quirked an eyebrow but otherwise ignored it. 

“I have a, uh, purply-red one. Looks a little silk, definitely isn’t.”

“Ah, yeah. Right. Well, you’re not letting Stede undress you tonight, I’m guessing?”

“I don’t count on getting that lucky,” Ed said as he found the shirt in the back of his closet. Thankfully not too badly wrinkled. The jacket would cover it anyway.

“Well, good. Because that might get derailed with a speech about synthetics.” Lucius said, wincing not-so-subtly as Ed pulled it out. He wisely said nothing about the state of the shirt. “Gotta tie?”

“Mate, I got twenty-five minutes to finish dressing, get my hair sorted, and get my ass across town. Fucking lucky as it is I don’t got the full beard anymore 'cause that would have been an extra thing to do.”

“Right, no tie. What about a pocket square?”

Ed stilled a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Yeah, I got one,” He said before fishing his black dinner jacket with the velvet lapels out the back of the closet.

As he got it on, Lucius got up from the bed, heading for Ed’s bathroom and beckoning him to follow. 

“If you still had your beard, I’d offer to put little bows in it,” Lucius commented as he picked up the wide-tooth comb Ed left on the counter. 

He had no idea what the man was doing at first. Lucius’s hands were moving in ways that felt unfamiliar. Then Ed realized he was putting up, mostly in a bun, but he could feel some of the ends not quite make it in.

“You’re looking fantastic,” Lucius commented. “Anything else you want for this whole…?”

“No,” Ed said too quickly. “Unless. I mean, would Stede wear-?”

“Make-up? No, he doesn’t like how it makes him look.”

“Right, I’ll just… do this, then.”

“If you want,” Lucius said, patting him on the shoulder. “Get your pocket square, then head downstairs. I’ll get an uber ordered for you.”

Ed huffed but listened, tracking back to his bedroom to dig the scrap of red silk from the bottom of his sock drawer. Was something his mum gave him as his first big thing after earning a name for himself as a chef. Real silk, more than either of them could afford to spend on pretty much nothing. He only wore it to the first party, where someone pointed out it was “last season” or out of season, or whatever. Ed couldn’t figure out for the life of him how the fuck a square of red cloth could have a season.

He hesitated stuffing it in his pocket, remembering Stede’s extensive closet and his immense love of fashion. But then, Stede had also never once dismissed Ed’s clothing choices, so why would he be a dick about this?

Putting it haphazardly in his pocket, Ed marched out of the bedroom, slamming light switches along the way. He slipped on his boots, careful to make sure the legs of his jeans covered them so people wouldn’t look too close, then turned to an admiring Lucius.

“Right. Out, now,” Ed said, waving Lucius toward the door.

“You clean up nice, you know,” He said with a pointed lookover of Ed. “Stede’s going to want to devour you. Or want to slowly unwrap you to see what’s underneath.”

“Stede’s seen everything underneath before.”

“Has he?”

“He might not remember,” Ed conceded before opening the door and staring at it.

“Shame,” Lucius winked as he walked by, making Ed huff while trying not to laugh. He closed the door, locked up, and walked Lucius down to the lobby.

Before he went for the parking lot where his car was, Lucius turned to Ed and braced his hands on his shoulders.

“You can’t fuck this up,” Lucius told him sincerely. “Stede doesn’t give a shit about rules and perceptions, not when the only person it affects in that world is him.”

A horn honked - likely Ed’s ride - and Lucius gave him a smile.

“Go get’em, tiger,” Lucius encouraged with one last pat, then sent Ed on his way.

~S~

Stede checked his phone for both the time and a message for Ed, finding the former later than he’d have liked and the latter nonexistent.

He took a sip of his wine, hoping beyond all reason that Ed hadn’t been stringing him along until precisely the right moment. 

There was only one other seaside restaurant in town that boasted the sort of ratings that Blackbeard’s did. Firmly on what anyone might call the wealthy side of the city, it had a patio over the water, with a view of the harbor to die for.

It wasn’t a place people put on their best for, but one did not show up in a t-shirt and blue jeans and expect to be given a table. Not that you could walk up anyway, because even on a night that they weren’t busy, the place expected you to have had your name down for a table already.

There were three forks and two knives, and spoons at the place setting with two glasses and a bowl and plate already waiting. White table clothes that you couldn’t spot a stain if you tried and napkins to match. 

It would be the perfect place to stand a man up for doing the same to you. And Ed was currently fifteen minutes late.

Stede tried not to let his heart break, but even by a couple of minutes after eight, his throat was already getting tight, and there were already looks starting from the other tables. 

He’d already had a few raised eyebrows with his white jacket and dark teal shirt. His probably too-loud plaid pants matched both pieces precisely, with just a hint of okra in the lines. 

He stuck out coming in, and he’s sticking out now with his arm still in a cast and the spot across from him notably empty yet clearly meant to be filled.

After catching yet another stranger’s eye, he had to look away, out at the water, even if it meant not being able to watch the door like a hawk. He’d give Ed another few minutes. Five, maybe ten. A taut twenty, and then he’d just try and laugh it off and cry himself to sleep in his room after choking down a meal here.

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry.”

Ed’s voice had Stede whipping around, a disbelieving smile making his face hurt.

“Ed!”

“My uber driver tried to take me to my own fucking restaurant. Got this place and Blackbeard’s mixed up,” Ed said as he pulled out his chair and sat down. “Had to tell him that there was no fucking way my date would take me to my own place, and then the bastard actually told me he’d wait for me a few minutes when this place kicked me back out.”

“I hope you tipped poorly,” Stede tried for flat or indignant, but he was just so bloody relieved to see Ed across from him he couldn’t muster it.

And gosh, did he look a sight, positively stunning. He sort of wanted to pinch himself and see if maybe he’d fallen asleep waiting.

“Didn’t bloody tip at all. Lucius put it on his account. The bastard gets to deal with that. So, yeah, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Stede rushed to assure again. 

The waiter came by, doing a double take at Ed when he asked Stede if he was finally ready to order.

“Hell, I didn’t even look at the menu.” Ed realized, glancing about the table as if he’d magically find one.

“Would you trust me to order for you?” Stede asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

So Stede did, glancing at Ed each time to see what sort of reaction his choices earned him. Ed seemed interested - or at least intrigued - by the things Stede ordered, giving no negative reaction that could be spotted. 

The waiter then left, heading back toward the kitchen inside. 

Stede didn’t miss the way he slipped a hand in his pocket, withdrew a bill, and slipped it to another member of staff on his way by.

“Oh, the cheeky bastards were taking bets on you,” Ed said.

Stede cringed, “I was hoping you hadn’t seen that,” He said, willing his cheeks to cool down as he took a sip of his wine.

“Might not have been on my being late. Could have made a bet that I was a woman.” Ed pointed out.

Stede snorted, arching a brow and trying not to smirk.

“You’re not as obvious as you think, mate,” Ed grinned.

Stede looked down at himself, then looked more pointedly at Ed.

“You look fucking fantastic.” Ed said appreciatively.

“So do you,” Stede admitted, eyes darting about the lovely ensemble Ed put together for the evening. The view was disrupted by someone coming by to fill Ed’s wine glass, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Not as fashionable,” Ed countered.

“I guess we’ll need to agree to disagree,” Stede replied, watching Ed sample the wine delicately. He then noted the way Ed’s eyes dropped to the cutlery on the table, the apprehension that creased his eyes.

“Left to right,” Stede leaned in, speaking only loud enough for Ed to hear. “If you get lost, just mirror me.”

“It’s been a while,” Ed admitted. “And the last time, I fucked it up.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Stede offered, reaching across the table for Ed’s hand, covering it with his cast-covered one.

“Mate, I tried to eat a fucking prawn with escargot tongs and a bloody melon spoon.”

“No!?”

“Yes, I fucking panicked. Read to death all the etiquette shit I could find before going to this ass’s high-end thing, and when we sat down to dinner? Nothing. Forgot the whole damn thing.” Ed grinned, plucking his napkin off the plate and whipping it out. He placed it on his lap before leaning back in his chair, almost looking relaxed now.

“I once lit someone’s dining room on fire,” Stede admitted.

“No,” Ed’s eye went wide as he leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You never fucking told me that! Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

“Not sure how I would have brought it up. It was a complete accident, though I can’t say I was sorry. A few of them were in their cups,  being right arseholes to this bloke - can’t remember why. Not even sure I even saw the man, only that Mary told me they were being their usual cruel selves. I wasn’t exactly sober myself, and was feeling particularly vindictive on behalf of this stranger they decided was their prey for the night. So I went down and loudly started a conversation about how one man’s daughter looked decidedly similar to his best friend, and how funny it was that one family's issues with missing funds seemed to coincidentally start when their accountant stopped having money trouble. It sort of went from there. I got bumped in the ensuing fight, hit the table with a warming tray, and knocked one of the little candles out. It flew, hit and lit the curtains, and I… walked away.”

“Stede,” Ed said, his face having lost that gleeful amusement the more of the story Stede told though none of the interest.

“I called emergency services, don’t worry. Though it’s not my fault the idiots kept fighting while the house was burning-“

“No, Stede. Mate, I was… I was there. The bloke was me.”

Stede blinked. 

“Sorry?”

“Two years ago, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Was me. I was there. I left the whole thing before the fire, but fucking hell, when I heard about it? First thing I thought was, ‘fuckers deserved it.’ Thought I was gonna get questioned by the cops, given my history and all that shit, but nothing ever came of it.”

“Not surprising. They had to drag people out still fighting. Was obvious what happened. But still, you were there? How did we not cross paths? Never mind, I already know. I avoid socializing at those things as much as I can. I think that was the last one Mary and I made ourselves attend as a couple, too.”

“Was the last for me. Couldn’t keep going to them after that one. It just… wasn’t worth it, you know? Izzy had hoped we’d get investors or some shit but wasn’t like we needed it. Was getting invites because the restaurant was doing so well.”

“It’s probably why you were invited, for investment potential. If not, then to be poached.” 

“Like hell would I work for someone else,” Ed said emphatically.

“I completely understand.”

They paused as their appetizers came around and then continued conversing from there. Touching on the other ways they could have met, though it was likely all the little ways Stede had imagined as the few parties and dinners Ed had attended among the upper crust aside from that one, Stede had not. This led to the ways they would have preferred to spend an evening if they weren’t spending it with each other, which ended up becoming a discussion about books, TV, movies, and music.

And while none of the things Stede said surprised Ed, he still listened. Actually, he seemed almost endeared by what Stede had to say, if not downright relieved. 

A few times, he would say something like, “yeah, you said” or “I remember,” which was weird because while he and Ed had talked about a lot of things over their internet communication, the minutia of some of it hadn’t been. And those were the things Ed somehow already knew. But then, Ed had said there was something he couldn’t explain. Maybe, somehow, that was still all tied into this somehow?

They weaved their way through talking about everything and nothing as the courses came and went. Still, when the cheque came post desert, it seemed like neither of them was quite ready to say goodnight.

“Have I mentioned you looked rather fetching this evening?” Stede asked as they stepped out of the restaurant onto the cobblestone sidewalk.

“You said I looked good, don’t know about fetching,” Ed replied with a shrug, burying his hands in his jean pockets.

“You do. I especially like the little pop of red you have in contrast to the wine color of your shirt.”

Ed looked down at his pocket square as if he hadn’t remembered it was there. 

“Oh, this old thing?” He asked, taking one hand from his pockets to tug a little at the square. “Out of fashion when I got it, apparently.” 

The square came loose, and Ed rubbed it between his fingers.

“Sometimes, the old things are the best things.” Stede watched Ed then attempt to fold it again, bringing his other hand out of hiding to make it neater. “May I?” Stede offered.

Ed looked at him skeptically but handed over the square anyway.

It was a bit more of a challenge, folding it with the full use of only one hand, but Stede managed to make an elegant little shape before delicately putting it back in Ed’s pocket.

“There we are.” Stede gave a single pat to the pocket square, then trailed his hand down, fingers catching on the velvet of the lapels and feeling the softness of it until his hand would have gone a touch too low. “You wear fine things well.”

“Fuck off,” Ed said without heat in his words, but he looked at Stede like he’d just hung the bloody moon instead of folding a piece of silk. Or, maybe, like Ed wanted to eat him slowly, savor him like he’d savored the Creme Brule inside.

“When do you work tomorrow?” Stede asked impulsively.

“Early,” Ed sighed, reaching for Stede’s good hand and lacing their fingers together. “Don’t do the whole night thing again until next month.”

“So I’m guessing you’re telling me you have to call it a night,” Stede said, running his thumb over Ed’s.

“I mean,” Ed said, glancing around them. “You gotta get a lift, too. So, I mean, we could… share. A ride. To my place. And if you happen to get out of the car when I do, well….”

“Was that your plan or Lucius’s?” Stede asked with a smirk, shifting a slight bit closer to Ed.

“Wasn’t really a plan . But I mean, the boy, you know, he does do some devious shit.”

“I’m aware of all of Lucius’s little ploys to get invited back somewhere,” Stede mused. “I just can’t figure out right now if I was meant to go to yours or if he expected you to return with me to the house.”

“I could go either way?” Ed’s lips curled into a devastating smile, and Stede was gone.

He felt the rough palm of Ed’s other hand cup his jaw even though he’d never seen the movement. Leaning into it, Stede only half closed his eyes, not wanting to miss the way Ed leaned in. The scent of whatever it was that stuck to his clothes and skin - be it soap or cologne - was heady in the air between them. 

Ed’s nose brushed his first, delicate like Stede might disappear if he moved too fast. Breath from Ed’s nose danced along Stede’s upper lip just before the electrifying caress of a lip.

“Stede!”

Ed startled away just as their lips grazed, and Stede felt oddly dizzy. There was something floating about in his head, and he clung tighter to Ed for the moment until everything settled to a weighty buzz. He had a desperate urge to lean in and kiss Ed, damn anything or anyone else, which made his patience for the woman clicking her heels toward them that much thinner.

“Ah. Jane,” He said as civilly as he could. “Interesting to find you here.”

“Well, I was joining the girls for a night out, and this is the only decent place in town where someone can get a reservation,” Jane said as she kept pointedly staring between Stede and Ed.

He sighed, hating politeness more than he could have possibly imagined right now.

“Jane, Edward Teach. He owns Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill. Ed, this is my monst-“ He cleared his throat and forced a cough. “Sorry, my mother- in-law, Jane Allamby.”

“Blackbeard’s. Yes, I heard of that place. Run by a hoard of criminals.”

“Sounds very much like the real estate firm, doesn’t it?” Stede quipped back before Ed even had a moment to tense.

Jane chuckled dryly, her smile brittle. 

“You always had such a droll sense of humor, Stede. It’s a wonder no one ever finds you funny.”

“Well, I imagine it’s hard for someone to hear a good quip when their head is up their backside.”

Jane chuckled without emotion, smile plastered on as she kept glancing at Ed.

“You are quite the dashing figure, Edward. Are you single?”

“Ah,” Ed inched closer to Stede, “No. No, I am certainly… not.”

“Oh, shame to hear that,” Jane gave him a playful swat. “I have a younger friend who has been dreadfully single for far too long. Charming, good pedigree. She’s quite a catch, honestly.”

“Yeah,” Ed drawled out, “but she’s a she, so that’s already sort’ve a deal breaker.”

“And a married man isn’t?”

“We signed the papers, actually,” Stede said cheerfully. “Already in our lawyer’s hands and everything! I expect the divorce will be made official within a week or two.”

“Really?” Jane asked, pinched.

“Yes! I know Doug is so looking forward to the Allamby family gathering in a couple of months.”

“How nice,” Jane said through her teeth. “Anyway, darling, give my love to the kids for me, will you? I assume that’s where you’re going now? Roberto can give you a lift. He’s just over there.”

Stede glanced where Jane was waving her hand, and sure enough, her driver was standing there, waiting for Stede with a grin.

“Go on, mate,” Ed said with a bump of his shoulder into Stede’s. “Early morning for me, and all.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Stede acknowledged. “Not to mention things would probably have been awkward,” He waved his cast about.

“Hey, I love that thing. Tells me you made it through the accident and all the shit that came after.” 

“That’s a way to look at it. Talk tomorrow, then?”

“Of course,” Ed said with a warm smile. 

And damn it all, he wasn’t about to pull him in for the sort of kiss he thought was going to get before, but he was going to get his lips on Edward Teach in some shape, way, or form. So Stede leaned in and placed a kiss on Ed’s cheek, just shy of the corner of his mouth.

“Goodnight, then,” He said softly, watching Ed’s cheeks darken in the light of the restaurant. 

“Right. Night.” He said, stumbling back in a bit of a daze. He belatedly turned to Jane. “Goodnight, Mary’s mum.”

“Goodnight,” She said, sounding surprised. 

Stede watched Ed saunter down the road, probably not even realizing what he was doing.

“He’s at least good-looking. Which, no offense to Douglas, but I’d rather parade a former convict with all that charm around the family than a painter who is rather bland.” Jane said with resignation before turning back to Stede. “Have my car back to me in a half hour.”

“Where else am I going to take it but back to the house?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to know, just go get Roberto to drive you somewhere, and so none of us have to worry about you getting hurt again.”

She then surprised Stede by giving him a kiss on the cheek. She rubbed her thumb against the spot, presumably to remove the trace of lipstick left behind, and flashed him a nearly genuine grin before turning on her heels and heading inside. 

~E~

Ed walked the whole way home. He’d regret it in the morning, he was sure, but he still felt like he was flying high off the whole fucking night. 

Hell, if Stede’s mother-in-law hadn’t shown up, who knows what would have happened? Probably them making out in front of a fancy restaurant before ordering a ride and continuing it there. Maybe after getting to wherever they ended up heading - probably Ed’s place - Ed could finally see that lighthouse tattoo he wasn’t supposed to know about yet?

The idea of it all made Ed a bit too giddy, drunk on being stupid in love and having things going so fucking good for once. He’d fucking whistle if it wasn’t so late.  

Probably for the best that he didn’t, because when he stepped out the elevator onto his floor, Jack Rackham was leaning against the wall by his door, sound asleep with an empty bottle of booze in his hand.

Chapter Text

Ed slipped into his apartment as carefully as he could, making sure not to touch Jack or make any noise until he was firmly on the other side of the door with it locked.

Which was apparently the exact moment Jack woke up.

“Blackie!? Hey, you home?” He called, pounding on the door.

Ed quietly backed away from the door and headed down the hall before he called security. He could blame the neighbors if Jack put up a fuss, but Ed was really hoping this was just a weird fluke and Jack would slink back to whatever hole he crawled out of.

His presence was essentially a cold shower on the night, and after Ed got off the phone with the guy downstairs, he stripped down to his boxers and collapsed on his bed. 

He was out within minutes.

His alarm woke him up far too early.

“Fuck off,” He grumbled, heart aching a bit that he didn’t get that adorable little giggle Stede always had when Ed woke up like that. Which he likely wouldn’t have gotten anyway because even if he and Stede made out from the restaurant to the apartment, they wouldn’t have gotten in the door because there was likely no way they’d both have been able to sneak past Jack.

Going about his normal preparations, Ed steeled himself for a shit day. Sunday, they usually weren’t as busy on Sundays, but he had no idea what sort of hell he was going to be walking into with how busy it was the night before.

He knew exactly what would have made him feel better. 

Ed glanced at the time, grimaced, but sent composed a text and sent it anyway before ordering an Uber on the way down to the lobby of his complex.

“Thanks for taking care of that last night,” He said to the guard as he sat behind the security desk.

“It’s what I’m here for. Fella went up with a bunch of others yesterday. Thought he was with them.”

“Yeah, he’s not allowed here anymore,” Ed said, shifting to walk backward to the door. “If he tries to come back, just kick him out.”

“Will do, Mr. Teach. Have a good one,” the guard said around a yawn, and Ed waved before stepping outside.

He only had to wait a few minutes for his ride and was at the restaurant around the time he normally would get there.

It was with a sigh of relief to see the kitchen wasn’t left a disaster because the last thing he wanted was to start writing people up for leaving a fucking mess. A quick glance in the fridge said there was some prep done, and he started getting out the things he would need to finish it off.

He was a half-hour into it when there was a timid knock on the back door.

A smile broke over Ed’s face as he set things down, and wiped his hands on a towel before heading to the door, and slowly pushing it open with his hip.

“Hey,” he greeted a still sleepy-looking Stede on the other side.

“Good morning,” He said, rubbing at his eyes. “Interesting invite to receive at six in the morning.”

“You were up, obviously.”

“Well, I may have been more woken up, but I’m not complaining.”

Ed chuckled lowly as he stepped aside, beckoning Stede in before shutting the door.

“Blackbeard’s for breakfast. Now, this is a first,” Stede said as he looked around the kitchen. It was a lot like he had done the first time Ed brought him, though in far more casual clothes. Linen trousers and a t-shirt, the most casual Ed had ever seen Stede short of the man being in a hospital gown.

It wasn’t a look Ed was going to complain about anytime soon.

“Don’t do this for just anyone, ya know,” Ed said as he shifted the prep stuff to the fridge. “Sweet or savory?”

“Anything you’re willing to make,” Stede said as he leaned against a prep table.

“Savory it is,” Ed declared, pulling out eggs, a few vegetables, and some cheese. He grabbed some of the pre-chopped and cooked bacon usually used in the salads, then set it out on the counter. “How was the rest of your night?” He asked Stede as he began to get the tools he needed to whip up a pair of omelets.

“Jane’s driver took me home, where I spent the rest of my evening reading. Not terribly exciting. How about yours? Did you actually walk home, or did you end up taking a car halfway there?”

“I walked. Which is a good thing because I got home to my ex asleep on my doorstep.”

“Sorry?” Stede asked, voice pitching higher than normal. 

Ed paused in his beating the eggs to gauge Stede’s reaction. “It wasn’t welcome, so we’re both clear,” he said with a smirk before he began tossing in ingredients.

“What did he want?”

“I honestly have no idea. I snuck past him, then called security. He probably spent the night in the local drunk tank.”

“Sounds like a charmer,” Stede deadpanned as Ed turned to the stove.

“Well, he was an on and off from the old life. Haven’t seen him in a few years, since the last time he came around. But was so fucking busy with this place he went off again, probably back to his wife.”

“Is it married men you have an affinity for? Is that just a terrible coincidence?”

Ed threw his head back and laughed, setting the pan he was warming aside so he could start a small pot of coffee and grab some butter from the fridge.

“Shit, when you put it like that, does sound bad. No, Jack and Anne, they’re all over the place. She’s got a girl on the side, her own Mary, never met her. And your marriage is nothing like theirs. Doesn’t have the sex for one.”

He had his back turned to Stede while he poured hot water into the french press. 

When Ed glanced back at him, Stede was frowning deeply, looking at the ceiling as if he was trying to remember something.

Probably when he ever let it slip that he hadn’t had sex with Mary. Because of course, of course, Ed would say something that was pretty damn fucking hard to explain away, even at a guess. There was likely only so much of Ed knowing Stede’s personal life that Stede would let the whole “I can’t tell you” allow. 

“I guess the real question here is if my divorce makes me more or less desirable,” Stede said in a careful way that made Ed think that that hadn’t been his first thought.

An out. He’d take the out because he was sure he was going to run out of them sometime soon, and he was going to use all the luck he could get. 

“More. Definitely,” Ed answered immediately, returning his focus to the pan so he could get their omelets cooked. “Honestly, not sure how Doug did it, being the other man and all.”

“Well, there wasn’t really any otherness to it. As you pointed out, there was a distinct lack of intimacy.”

“Even still, though. No real dates with Mary, not where she could be sniffed out as stepping out. Always knowing there’s a husband she goes home to, whether or not there’s anything there. Not really getting to plan a future or anything.”

“Do you plan a future?” Stede asked, and only Ed’s years of doing this in a busy kitchen where anything could happen prevented him from startling and potentially burning himself.

He swallowed the nervous lump in his throat before shrugging as casually as he could.

“Might.”

“What do you plan, then?”

“I dunno, just,” He took a deep breath. “Waking up and doing this shit with you at home, ya know? Or just staying in bed. Maybe stretching out with you on the couch after a long day, and making sure we do the whole farmer’s market thing when we’re off together. And I mean, you know, you got the kids, so imagine we’d probably do shit with them when you got them.”

Ed reached for a couple of plates, tipping an omelet on each with practiced movements.

He grabbed them both and then turned to Stede.

He was met with a dreamy expression, Stede looking at Ed like he’d described a romantic weekend in Paris and not the everyday life of a couple of average blokes.

Ed remained completely still as Stede moved around the worktop to stand in front of him. With his cast-covered hand on Ed’s waist, Stede held his eye as he took one plate from Ed’s grip.

“That sounds like everything I have ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” Ed grinned.

“Mm-hmm,” Stede said. “I want everything you just said. And this omelet.”

Ed chuckled, tilting his head toward the doors to the dining room. “Come on.”

Stede stepped back just enough for Ed to sneak by and lead him out to the bar.

The lights in the dining room were mostly off, as they would normally remain until around nine. The bar always had its lighting on, as it wasn’t overly bright to begin with. Ed snagged a couple of things of silverware before darting back into the kitchen to grab the coffee press. When he returned, Stede had helped himself to a couple of mugs from behind the bar, setting them on little saucers and everything.

“Pretty sure I just violated a health and safety code doing that,” He mused as he sat down on the stool.

Ed grabbed some creamers from the mini-fridge.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” He said as he hopped up on the stool next to Stede’s. 

“We’ll keep it between us, then,” Stede said with a quick scrunch of his face that was so fucking adorable Ed didn’t know what to do with himself.

After getting their coffees sorted, Stede broke off a piece of his omelet and popped it in his mouth with a groan of appreciation.

“This is wonderful.”

“Thank you,” Ed said as he started eating as well. His eyes fell to Stede’s cast where it rested between them on the bar top. “Tomorrow’s the big day, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Stede said, looking down at his arm as he twisted it around. “Which means, of course, that I will be moving back on my boat. Whether Mary likes it or not.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She wanted me to stay until it was healed. Tomorrow, they will deem it healed - or healed enough - and I am moving back out on my own.”

“Lucky bastard,” Ed grumbled before taking a sip of his coffee.

“You live in your own place.”

“My place doesn’t have a fuck-off sized bathtub in it. You know how much I miss that thing? Could fucking stretch out my knee and everything.”

Stede blinked at him a moment with a bland expression.

“Well, perhaps you can come back and soak it again. I have some lovely lavender salts you might like.”

“Yeah, I know, they’re fucking incredible,” Ed replied before taking another bite. It took him a moment to realize what Stede was actually saying. “This soak? You joining me for it this time, or…?”

Stede chuckled, cheeks turning a bit red even as he smiled coyly.

“I was wondering if you were going to say anything.”

“Well, I mean. Shoulda known you don’t really start with the come-ons until we’re here, do you?” Ed teased back.

“Oh, hush. Not sure how else to flirt with you, and I can’t help if all the good opportunities happen to be while we’re here.”

“What is it, then? Is it the pirate ship atmosphere? Are you just really into the nautical goth vibe?”

“Oi, que mierda ? You bringing dates here for breakfast, but we can’t bring our spouses?” Jim asked from the door to the kitchen. They were leaning on the frame, arms and legs crossed, but had a smile on their face that had Ed suspecting that they’d snuck a picture of him and Stede and sent it to the rest of the senior staff and Oluwande already. Which would probably mean that Stede’s circle of friends would have it, too.

“Olu and you ain’t married yet, so don’t even start with the spousal shit. And don’t think I don’t you know you snuck him in a few times when I wasn’t on shift.”

“Who told you? Izzy?” Jim scoffed. “You at least gonna clean your shit?”

“Yeah, get to it in a bit,” Ed waved it off.

Jim rolled their eyes affectionately.

“Good to see ya, Stede,” They said before returning to the kitchen. “John, you owe me fifty bucks!” Jim yelled loud enough for them to hear through the door. The groan that followed was a little more muffled but heard all the same.

“Do you think they think we…?”

“Fuck if I know. Might as well let them think what they want. You really gonna tell Jim they didn’t win a bet if they think they did?”

Stede grimaced. “No, I’d rather not. Quite fond of my limbs, would like for them to remain attached.”

“Quite fond of your limbs, too,” Ed said with a twitch of his eyebrows, getting Stede to chuckle.

“Ed!” Izzy’s voice barked from out back. It didn’t have quite the same bite as it normally did, but then again, he probably didn’t know Stede was there yet.

“Is this my cue to sneak out the front?” Stede stage whispered.

“Nah, you’d set off the alarms, mate,” Ed said as the door swung open.

Izzy came out and stopped in his tracks at seeing Stede. He seemed to go from surprised, to happy, to pissed, to relieved, to annoyed in the span of a few seconds, the most animated Ed had seen Izzy in a while.

“I’m gonna head back in a minute,” Ed placated.

“Right. Fine,” Izzy said before turning on his heel and storming back through the doors.

“That was odd,” Stede noted, and Ed had to agree. “Well, I should leave you to it. As delightful as this whole thing has been, I would rather not have your whole day thrown off because I caused you to dillydally.”

“Let me walk you out,” Ed said, beckoning for Stede to follow him.

The kitchen was more alive than when he left it, with those there turning and watching Ed as he led Stede through their chaos. Stede smiled and waved, saying the odd good morning, but otherwise remained as unobtrusive as possible.

“Come by tomorrow after you get your cast off,” Ed told Stede as they got to the door.

“I shall. And tonight? Or usual arrangement?”

“Of course,” Ed said, then because Stede did it the night before, he leaned in and kissed Stede on the cheek.

The bugger had the audacity to return the peck, still just off of Ed’s lips. He pulled back, a bit daed looking at first but then got himself together and gave Ed a Cheshire grin. 

“Have a nice day at work.”

“You, too,” Ed said, backing up and giving one last wave to Stede before they parted ways.

“You two are so fucking cute it’s disgusting,” Jim said with what might have been affection. 

“Thanks,” Ed said, straightening his jacket. “Gotta go talk to Izzy, then I’ll be back.”

“Go easy on him,” Jim teased as Ed made his way to the corridor.

He made the beeline to Izzy’s office, knocking on the mostly open door.

“Iz?” He said before stepping in, catching the man stuffing his phone in his pocket. “We got a situation.”

“What is it?”

“Jack’s in town.” 

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. I need to make sure he’s not in here. You wanna call Ivan, see if he’s willing to put a pin on the next best seller in horror and come do security for the day?” Ed asked, trying to catch Izzy’s eye and failing.

“Yeah, sure thing, boss.”

“Good,” Ed waited, but Izzy still wouldn’t look at him. Sighing, he scrubbed at his face a moment before putting his hands on his hips. “Look, Iz, I know shit between us is weird. Especially with Stede. But fuck, man, you had to know, right? That I was gonna meet someone someday?”

Izzy swallowed, then dug his phone out of his pocket.

“I’ve got to call Ivan before it gets too late. And you need to get back in there and finish the prep you shirked to have breakfast with your fucking boyfriend.”

Ed sighed but nodded, knowing a lost fight when he saw one.

“Right, thanks, Iz,” He said before stepping out of the office, and closing the door behind him.

~S~

Stede didn’t go home. Well, Stede didn’t go back to the house he’d lived in for over a decade. After he left Blackbeard’s, Stede went to the marina.

It was breaking Mary’s rule or whatever, but he frankly didn’t care. Going back to the house was the very last thing he wanted to do. There he would have the children around, Mary, Doug, and he wouldn’t be able to lose his mind like he wanted to.

He’d been in the back of the restaurant before. 

Stede knew it, deep down. It wasn’t a clear memory by any stretch, but it was there. Nothing about it was unfamiliar. If anything, Stede would say he’d been there many, many times. That had become a bit clearer when Ed had led him back through when there was more staff there. He hadn’t met any of them but Jim in the past, yet he could look at them and know their names. Know where they seemed to prefer to work. Hell, Stede knows he’d seen Ed cook before, too. 

So, as if in a daze, Stede exited the taxi and made his way past the security gate to the dock beyond. He was wringing his hands as much as he could with a cast on, fretting what it meant for his mental health that he could swear he had experienced something he hadn’t before.

The yacht, which he had hoped would be a comfort to him, made that unease heavier.

It didn’t feel like he’d been gone from it as long as he had been. He climbed aboard, taking each step slowly until he was on the deck. And oh, hell, this didn’t feel as exciting as it should.

Immediately, Stede went below.

Things were a bit different than he expected, but only just. The frames weren’t quite right, and the decanter and tumblers had a slightly different pattern. His CDs weren’t arranged in alphabetical order by artist, then in chronological by release. He probably should be more concerned he could pick that out from a distance, but he was too thrown by the changes to care. 

There was a note on the coffee table, and he was drawn to that - the biggest disruption to the flow - and picked it up as delicately as a bomb.

Stede,

I sorta had a meltdown when I got back here. Sorry about that. Ordered what I could to replace the shit I broke, though I get it’s probably not quite the same. Just know I tried.

-Ed

P.S. - Forgot you don’t know who I am. Sorry. Mary will explain

Stede huffed a quiet laugh, folded the note, and placed it inside his jacket pocket. He then made his way around the yacht, seeing what else was out of place.

The children's bedrooms remained untouched. In fact, there was a thin layer of dust starting to build up from disuse. The library was the same, which would have made Stede wonder if Ed had lived here at all if he hadn’t already known the man’s preferred methods of entertainment.

He glanced in the galley, an overwhelming sense of deja vu hitting him when he spotted the coffee maker. There was a pod beside it and a coffee mug that had been emptied but abandoned on the counter beside it. 

The fridge had been emptied all but for a half-full jar of marmalade.

Stede retreated to the bedroom then, finding the sheets rumpled but otherwise untouched. Draped across the foot of it was a red floral silk robe that he hadn’t particularly favored but found he couldn’t part with, either. Gingerly, he picked it up, realizing it smelled more of Ed than of the dust or disuse. 

The scary thing was, he expected that. Because in his mind, he could see it almost plain as day: Ed on the sofa in the living room, drink in hand, looking out the window wearing nothing but this robe and a pair of pajama pants.

Stede’s knees gave out, and he collapsed on the bed, clutching the robe in his fist.

“What the hell,” He said to himself. “Oh, fuck, I’m losing my mind.”

He looked back at the pillows and was starkly reminded of what Ed said he wanted for a future. How all of that had been familiar like Stede had already experienced it all with Ed and knew what it looked like.

Turning away, his eyes fell on the door of the ensuite but then was reminded that he had a sort of flash earlier to Ed in the tub, hair piled high on his head, fingers dripping as he ran his hand over Stede’s arm, roughly where his tattoo was, though never got him wet.

“Fuck,” he said to himself, burying his face in his hands while still clutching the robe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck .”

Work. He should go to work and forget that he was having the absolute worst case of overactive imagination. Or premonition, he couldn’t be sure.

Stede abandoned the robe where he found it and left the bedroom. He was almost to the stairs when he realized something gold caught his eye.

Slowly, Stede turned and spotted his brass whale paperweight tucked just so by a set of shelves that it would easily get bypassed. It was on the floor, on its side, and as Stede crept closer he could see a couple bits of glass underneath it.

Carefully, he picked up the whale, looking it over and suddenly had the image of Ed picking it up off a shelf in the bedroom.

Stede dropped it back on the floor, ignoring its heavy thunk as he turned tail and headed back up on deck. He paused to take a deep breath of fresh air, trying to slow his heart rate and prevent himself from having a panic attack.

“You’re lookin’a lot more lively, eh?” 

Stede snapped his attention to the weird man below, the one he’d seen around and had thought was in his dream about the glass coffin.

“Thanks,” Stede choked out.

The man tilted his head.

“Ya don’t remember. Or, ye don’t quite remember, ‘s one or the other.”

“Sorry?” 

“Your time between,” the man said like it should have been obvious.

“Time… between?” Stede frowned. 

Deciding this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with raised voices out in public, Stede made his way down the plank to stand in front of the balding man.

A seagull came and landed on his head like it was the most natural and normal thing to happen, and Stede went with it. He was seeing or remembering things that had never happened. This wasn’t all that weird in comparison.

The seagull cawed, or whatever they did, and the man hummed and nodded like he understood it.

“Karl thinks it best ya do a bit’o reading, aye? Might be a bit’ve’a shock when ye get the whole thing back.”

“Karl… is?”

The man looked at the bird on his head, then back to Stede.

“Right. The seagull wants me to read. Read what?”

The man pursed his lips. 

“Probably on stuff about outta body experiences, or something like that. Being a phantom but not being dead.”

“Right,” Stede nodded slowly. “Well, please extend my thanks to Karl, mister…?”

“Buttons. But ye’d have remembered.”

“Buttons,” Stede repeated with a strained smile. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He stepped around the man, wondering if maybe he was crazier than he thought.

“Was a kiss that brought ya back,” Buttons called after him, sending a chill down Stede’s spine. “Maybe’s what ya need to recall the time ya lost.”

It was all Stede could do to nod before starting to make his way to the library on foot. 

A kiss brought him back? Really? From who? Mary? Lucius? Chauncey Badminton? Now that would have been a riot, one of the most homophobic men Stede had ever met bringing him back around with a kiss.

He was a block away from the marina when he got hit with the most intense yet fleeting thought he’d had yet: Ed’s eyes pleading with him as he held on to a half-dead-looking Stede’s hand. 

Chapter Text

The library was usually not all that busy on Sundays during the summer months. It was more popular among the university crowd, but even the young ones who would come in with their family were fewer and farther between. 

Normally, Stede liked Sundays because he could catch up on the paperwork he fell behind during the week. But that hadn’t been an issue since his return, what with his staff still restricting what he could do.

So, Stede was bored. And on top of being bored, he had Buttons’ suggestion running around his already fretting mind. What other explanation could there be? Stede was either losing his mind, or he had some sort of episode while he was in a coma. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to believe, but he knew that one couldn’t come to a logical conclusion without all the facts.

Which meant when Frenchie strolled up to the front desk to ask Stede if there was anything he would like him to do, Stede sighed and bowed his head.

“You, more than probably anyone, could likely locate the books on supernatural phenomena in here.” He put his hands on the back of his head, scraping his nails against his scalp to try and bring himself some comfort.

“Yeah, probably. Why? What you need to look up? See what sorta curse a witch put on you that you were… you know?”

Stede looked up at Frenchie slowly, who was a bit paler than usual, and peered back at Stede with wide eyes.

“No. I don’t know. What was I?”

“Oh, you know, just… in a coma,” Frenchie said as he looked at anything but Stede. Drumming his fingers momentarily on the reception counter, he added, “I’mma… I’m gonna go look those up for you, yeah? Be back in two shakes.”

Stede had never seen Frenchie move so swiftly to start a task in all the years he’d worked for him.

So. Ed had something he couldn’t tell or explain to Stede, and Frenchie and that Buttons character seemed to have an inkling about what all this was about. And now that he thought about it, Mary acted weird around him when he mentioned the coma, and then it was how she acted regarding the Snow White dream Stede mentioned the day before.

But there was no possible way that he had an out-of-body experience while he was unconscious. It was a ridiculous notion.

Still, better to have an idea of what others supposedly experienced. He can’t definitively rule out the possibility until he could see for himself it was complete and utter poppycock.

Stede sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, too tired to spiral anymore than he already had for the day. And he was probably reading far too much into everything. His mother always did accuse him of flights of fancy.

The doors to the library opened, and Stede glanced up to see a shabby-looking man with a weird mustache start strutting toward him with a cocky grin. 

Stede forced a polite smile as the man came closer, the scent of cheap spirits wafting off him strong enough that Stede was momentarily dizzy by it.

“Something we can help you with?” Stede asked him.

“Maybe,” Guy said. “Looking for Steve.”

“Sorry, we don’t have anyone here by that name,” He replied, his smile getting a little tighter. 

“Guy who fucking owns the place,” The man replied, lifting a bottle wrapped in a paper bag to his mouth.

“Sorry, there’s no food or drink inside the library. I’m going to have to ask you to leave or toss it out.”

“The fuck are you going to do to stop me?” The guy scoffed, narrowing his eyes at Stede. “It’s you, ain’t it? The one that Blackie’s been shacking up with.”

Blackie? Really? 

“I’m afraid I don’t know a ‘Blackie,’ either. Sounds to me like you’ve got the wrong place. Now, kindly remove yourself.”

“You can’t fucking tell me to leave,” The guy - Jack, because this had to be Ed’s former flame - snorted. “It’s a fucking public space.” 

Stede took a deep breath through his nose, then stood up slowly. He straightened his cuffs, then began to make his way around the counter. He stood in front of Jack, glanced him pointedly over, then held his eye.

“This library is actually not public, but private. Privately owned, funded, and operated. Therefore, I can tell you to get out of my library, and there can be nothing you can do to stop me. So I will say it: get out of my library. Now.”

Jack smirked, shaking his head.

“Soft. And prissy. The fuck Blackie sees in you, I don’t know.” 

Stede heard the splash before he felt it, the spray of liquid hitting his pants and staining his shoes. He looked down as he stepped away, seeing the bottle held in the asshole’s hand had tipped down, pouring the remaining contents on first Stede and then the floor.

“Oops,” Jack deadpanned.

“Shall I call the police, or would you vacate the premises on your own?” Stede asked as calmly as he could.

“I’ll go,” Jack shrugged, glancing around. “Place sucks, anyway. You just know that when Blackie doesn’t give you a ring, it’s because he’s occupied with something better.”

The ass made a crude gesture, then turned and left.

“What was his problem?” Frenchie asked as he came to the counter with an armload of books. He wrinkled his nose, only just noting the puddle of rum before he stepped in it. “I’ll get the mop,” He said as he put the books down.

“Thank you, Frenchie. When Jean comes in, I’ll take these out to the back. Stay out of your hair while I do a bit of reading.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Frenchie said with another glance at the door. “We gonna have to worry about him coming back?”

“No, I don’t think we will,” Stede said. “But when the others come in, make sure you pass on the word. And if he comes back, he’s decidedly unwelcome.”

Frenchie nodded, then disappeared for a moment to get the mop and bucket. Stede waved him off, sending him back to the stacks and cleaning up the spilled rum himself. It still lingered in the air when the puddle was clean, and Stede had a feeling it was likely going to continue to do so so long as he was in these particular shoes and trousers. No use for it, staying out back was probably for the best at this point.

He’d have to remember to tell Ed about this whole thing later.

~E~

His shift went by just fine, without incident, and without someone getting maimed, which made Ed extremely apprehensive about heading home.

“Don’t you got a phone date with Stede?” Jim asked as it was creeping around an hour and a half past when Ed should have left. Jim was heading out as it was, stopping by Ed’s office to glower at him from the doorway.

“Yeah, but we don’t got a set time,” he replied, sighing. “Thinking of just kipping here tonight.”

“Nah uh, no seas idiota . You do that, you’re gonna fuck up your knee. Get your ass home, face your ex like an adult.”

“Have you actually interacted with Jack?” Ed asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. Jim shook their head. “Well, he ain’t exactly the sort that takes no for a no.”

“I’ve seen you drive a knife in a guy’s hand for cutting onions wrong. Pretty sure you can handle el cabrón . Either way, I’m out.”

“Yeah. ‘Night, Jim,” Ed said as Jim pushed off and disappeared down the corridor. 

His bike was still out back, but if Jack actually used what was left of his brain cells, he might remember that’s where Ed parked. Ivan had already said he tried coming in earlier but backed off peacefully. The last anyone spotted him, Jack was sitting on the bench at the nearby bus stop which had a perfect view of Blackbeard’s. 

Ed was tired, he wanted to be comfortable, and he wanted to talk to Stede. He could do that in his office, of course, but being comfortable? Not a chance. The little futon he had wasn’t big enough to properly fit a grown man. He wouldn’t just fuck up his knee, his back would be out, too. 

There was a gentle tap on his door frame, and when Ed looked up, he was a bit surprised to see it was Izzy who’d done it.

“Jack’s hovering outside the front door,” He told Ed as he crept inside the office. He looked at the futon like he knew what Ed had been thinking.

“Might be able to make it out to the bike, then,” Ed sighed, scrubbing at his face. 

“I can take you home,” Izzy said to the floor. “He’ll be listening for the bike. Won’t think to look at my car twice.”

“’Preciate the offer, Iz, but he’s still gonna be lingering out there, too. Once he figures out I’m not here.”

“My…” Izzy started to say, then sighed heavily. “Call Bonnet. Maybe he can let you stay on his yacht. Jack doesn’t know about it.”

“Yeah, should,” Ed said, shifting in his chair to get his phone out of his pocket to call Stede.

Izzy lingered in the door, hesitating before his posture sagged, and he waved before stepping away.

Ed frowned at his retreating figure as he put the phone to his ear, listening to it ring through.

“Ed?” Stede’s sounded dazed. “Gosh, what time is it?”

“Not too late, mate,” Ed said, glancing at the clock to make sure he wasn’t lying by accident. “Listen, this is going to sound weird, but do you mind if I stay on the boat tonight? Jack, he’s-“

“Yes. He is.” Stede said in a clipped way that had Ed straightening up.

“What’s that mean?”

“He was here earlier today. Didn’t stay long, but yes. I’ve had the immense displeasure of meeting the man.”

“Shit, Stede,” Ed sighed, tipping back and staring at the ceiling. “I almost don’t want to know.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Stede said in a far too-even tone. “He only came in, harassed me a little, poured rum on my shoes and the floor, indicated that one or both of you would be on their knees for the other this evening, and left.”

“Fucking christ. Stede, I… fucking hell, if he’s caused you to change your mind-“

“You aren’t going to get rid of me quite so easily,” Stede assured, tone much warmer now. “And, of course, you can stay on the boat, darling. Just please, don’t let him aboard.”

“The idea is that Jack won’t know where I am,” Ed reminded Stede. “You, ah, you gonna come around since, you know, you won’t be the only one there?”

There was a long pause. 

“Not tonight,” Stede eventually replied. “There’s something I’ve got my nose buried in, and I’m afraid I won’t be the best company if I don’t get it sorted.”

“Alright, love,” Ed said, palming his face with a smack when he realized he’d let it slip. “Right, night then.” He hung up before Stede could say anything. Huffing, he shed his chef’s jacket and swapped it out, ready to head to the boat in a desperate bid to escape facing Jack just a little bit longer.

~*~

It felt wrong being there without Stede. Wrong and incredibly lonely. A bad combination if Ed ever knew one. He tried calling Stede again, but he wasn’t answering, and eventually, it just went to voice mail. Which, okay, he did say there was something at work he was getting wrapped up in, Ed would eventually have the same sort of days. Nothing for him to worry about.

Except Stede had met Jack. And Jack had apparently attempted to mark his territory in every way short of pissing. And yeah, sure, Stede said it was fine, but Ed knew the tone, knew it meant that Stede was less than impressed. 

Ed had been like Jack once. A long time ago, but he had been just as big of an ass, possessive and otherwise. Maybe there was more to their encounter than Stede was letting on, and now Ed was going to lose the best thing that ever happened to him.

What he needed was a drink, preferably in decent company. And since Stede wasn’t answering, that limited his options drastically.

Ed got out his phone, looking between two particular names in his contacts. One tried and true but full of muddled history and increasingly bad blood, another that had the potential of working against Ed if this went from a drink to complain to an impromptu therapy session.

His thumb was hovering over one in particular when he heard the thud on the deck above. Knife out of his pocket, he went for the stairs and called up, “Stede?”

“Just me,” Izzy’s voice returned, and Ed pocketed the knife and backed away.

“Had better be just you,” Ed shouted up as he went to the wet bar and poured them each a glass of brandy. 

Ed turned as Izzy stepped off the last step, moving to meet him and offer him a glass.

“Was going to lose my mind here on my own. Place is too quiet.”

“Yeah,” Izzy said, distracted. “No Bonnet?”

“No, Stede’s at work still, I think. Phone’s off.”

“Huh,” Izzy grunted more than said, taking a ginger sip of the brandy. 

Ed went for the couch, plopping down and stretching out his leg with a groan. He took a sip of his drink as he watched Izzy take in the living room like he’d never seen it before. He was also white-knuckling the glass in his hand, which was off even for Izzy.

“Everything alright?” Ed asked.

“No,” Izzy said sharply. “It’s not.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Izzy scoffed, “we don’t talk about shit, do we? It’s how we ended up here. You fucking off with that ponce, me here….” Izzy ducked his head. “I’ve done a lot of shit I’m not proud of, Edward, and it’s gonna come to a fucking head if I don’t say something.”

Ed sat up a little straighter, setting the brandy on the table.

“Iz?”

“Jack. He’s here because of me. I called him.”

“Sorry, you voluntarily called Jack? How the fuck did that work?”

Izzy glanced briefly at Ed before staring at the shell clock he detested. 

“Anne’s been with Mary a lot recently, figured Jack was in the off-season, and, well. An ass was better than a ponce, I thought.”

“You brought Jack here to break Stede and Me up?” 

“Wasn’t the only thing I did, just the latest,” Izzy said, downing the brandy before setting the glass next to Ed’s. He paced in a short line, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

“We’re done, yeah?” Izzy asked Ed without looking at him. “There’s no coming back from any of this shit, and I will tender my resignation right after. But I’m about to burn a bridge I can’t fucking cross again, aren’t I?”

Ed shifted to fully seated, dropping his leg down on the floor with a thud. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between them as he peered up at Izzy. 

“Israel,” He said slowly, “What the fuck is going on?”

Izzy turned on his heel, shoulders squared as he faced Ed and looked him in the eye. 

“Week before you were supposed to meet Bonnet the first time, you left your phone on in your office. You stepped out, some shit happening in the kitchen. I saw you were messaging some twat calling himself ‘The Gentleman pirate.’ You’d been acting odd, different, for months at that point. Like someone did something to your brain, seduced you, I don’t fucking know. Figured it must’ve been him.

“Tried looking him up, but all I got for most of it was the fucking username and a Wikipedia page. And Stede fucking Bonnet’s family webpage, because of course the fucking posh wankers have a family website. And I thought, ‘what idiot picks a screen name that anyone with half a brain could riddle out with a bit of digging?’ Stede fucking Bonnet, of course. And you. ‘Cause you always loved that shit from the second we learned in history that you and Blackbeard shared a name.”

Ed blinked in confusion at Izzy.

“You’ve been planning this whole thing for two months?”

Izzy shook his head.

“Wasn’t planning anything, really. Then the night after I saw your phone, we had this doctor at the bar lamenting that no fucking lawyers would take his case. Can’t sue a man for your brother’s death when he apparently didn’t do anything to cause it.”

“Chauncey Badminton? Guy who tried to kill Stede?”

Izzy nodded, looking smaller than Ed had seen him in a long time.

“Don’t know why I sat down and had a drink with him, but I did. We got to talking, found out the guy we wanted gone was one and the same. Next thing I know, we’re exchanging business cards.”

“Okay,” Ed said as calmly as he could, but a creeping sensation made its way up his spine, his mind racing ahead and connecting dots he hadn’t realized were laid out in a pattern. 

“Day you were supposed to meet Bonnet, I was… not thinking. Didn’t know that’s what was going to happen, just knew you were acting different. You weren’t my Edward, my Blackbeard.”

“I was never-“

“I know that now,” Izzy interrupted softly, swallowing as his eyes momentarily shone. “I know that,” He cleared his throat. “Bonnet comes to the bar that night after you left, gets something small. I was hovering nearby, wondering if I should warn him away from you or, fuck, I dunno. Then I hear him talking to someone about meeting Blackbeard, and if I had my doubts he was the fuck you were talking to, that cleared them right up.”

“You told Badminton where he was going,” Ed realized.

Izzy nodded. “Sent the fucker a text. Figured he was just gonna interrupt Bonnet or delay him, but… that didn’t happen.”

Ed took a deep breath through his nose, letting it out the same way. He did it again and again until he accepted that it just wasn’t going to calm him down. He was on his feet like lightning, kicking the coffee table aside and sending the brandy and glass across the room. 

He was on Izzy, shoving him against the wall before he even had time to process what he was doing.

“What the hell?” He demanded.

“I wanted you,” Izzy said as if Ed had merely asked about the weather and didn’t have his hands shoved against Izzy’s shoulders, digging hard enough to bruise. “I wanted you. Even if I couldn’t have you, I wanted you. All of you, all the ways I’d had you for years. And he was taking you away from me.”

“I wasn’t yours!” Ed roared in his face.

“No, but I was yours . And there was nothing worse than understanding I was losing even that little bit of hope that one day you would want me back.”

Ed shook his head in disbelief. 

“And you call me the one who’s half insane,” He said with another shove before pushing off of Izzy and putting some distance between them. He righted the coffee table, finding the glasses hadn’t shattered this go and collected them, setting them on the table. 

He listened to Izzy behind him, hearing him struggle to keep himself from breaking down in front of Ed. From what Ed could tell, he didn't move; he merely waited for whatever punishment Ed wanted to give him.

It’s what he wanted, too. He probably enjoyed the anger, the shove, far too much despite knowing for Ed didn’t come from the same place, or hit the same spots in his soul. 

“You’re not resigning,” Ed said over his shoulder. “I won’t accept it. You’re going to take leave, and you’re gonna get some fucking help. I don’t give a shit what gets you off, Iz, but you’re fucking obsessed with someone who never fucking existed. And if you think quitting is gonna change that, you’re more fucked in the head than I ever was.”

“Ed.”

“Nope, not done,” Ed said as he turned to face Izzy. He ignored the pale, nauseated look on the man’s face and continued. “When you’ve gotten the help you need, whatever or however you do, you’re going to work for me for one month. And if after that you still don’t wanna be there, I will let you walk, no questions asked. You were my oldest friend, and when I hit bottom, you did what you could to pull me out. This is me returning that favor.

“But Izzy? We’re done. Personally, outside of work, I never wanna see your fucking face again. And if you come near Stede, if you breathe too close to him, if you even glance in his direction in a way I don’t like, I will come for your fucking balls. I will rip them off and shove them down your throat, then feed you to the fucking sharks. We clear?”

“Yeah, boss,” Izzy said without missing a beat.

“Good. Leave.”

Izzy nodded once and turned, heading back up the stairs and off the boat. Ed listened until his footsteps left the deck above, then collapsed onto the couch.

He wanted to call Stede, but his head space wasn’t right for it. He knew what would happen. He’d tell him about Izzy. Probably not a good idea to tell him about it before he sorted out the mess that was his head.

So, Ed called who he was going to in the first place.

“Hello,” Lucius sang as he answered the phone.

“I need you to come to Stede’s boat,” Ed told him, voice shaking more than he expected to.

“Why, what happened? Did he remember?”

“No. Just… come here, please?”

Lucius didn’t even hesitate. “Be right there.”

~S~

It was far too late when Stede heard the front door of the library open, and the alarm only go off for a few moments. He had moved back to the reception desk later in the day as Frenchie and the younger ones were closing up and hadn’t realized he’d been sitting there reading the most ridiculous things until well into the night.

Though, ridiculous as they sounded, there had been a strange bit of familiarity to it all.

Lucius’s curses came before the man stepped out of the shadowed entryway, making his way nervously to the front desk. He looked up and around the high ceilings, wringing his hands and quietly talking to himself.

“Lucius?” 

Lucius yelped, feet leaving the floor a fair distance as he startled violently. He then clasped his chest, heaving as he unsteadily stumbled to the reception counter.

“What the hell are you doing reading in the dark?” He asked in a rush.

Stede pointed to the light under the high counter, which had been more than sufficient to read by.

“Right. Sometimes I forget that you’re like this.”

“What are you doing here?” Stede asked him, closing the book and standing up from the rolling chair.

“Ed is on your yacht. And he’s having a bit of a hard time.”

“Oh,” Stede blinked. “Well, I knew he was on the boat because I told him he could be there, but I didn’t… did something happen with Jack, or…?”

“Jack? Who’s Jack? Why would you- oh . Oh, Jack. Yeah, I know about Jack. Wasn’t him, though. He had a row with Izzy. I can’t… well, I probably should tell you the details, but things are still a bit muddy with Edward, and I’m not sure if he told me as a therapist or a friend. Anyway, you should get over there and offer him comfort. Because while I’m fond of the man, I already have a boyfriend at home and am currently not wanting to add a middle-aged sad sack to the relationship. Not even for Pete, who I know would absolutely shit himself if I brought Edward Teach home with me.”

Stede looked down at the pile of books he’d yet to read, let alone return, and grimaced. He should return them to their stacks or maybe set them off to the side to peruse again when he returned to work post-cast removal.

But that image of Ed on the couch, in the robe, came back to Stede. Maybe it wasn’t so much “seen it before” as it was “premonition.” Though that possibility opened a whole other can of worms. 

“Right. You have your car, I take it?” Stede said as he collected his keys from the drawer and shoved them and his apparently dead cellphone in his pocket. 

“Well, I certainly didn’t walk here,” Lucius retorted as Stede stepped around the desk. “You two were made for each other. Honestly,” He added as he walked Stede to the doors. 

Stede snickered as he disarmed the door long enough to get them out and lock it back up. Then patted Lucius affectionately between the shoulder blades before following him to where he parked.

Chapter Text

It had been nothing short of a fucked up day, and Ed was utterly drained. Between Jack showing up, Izzy’s confession, and then the whole not-session with Lucius, Ed felt wrung out in the worst way.

“You were far too easy on Izzy, as far as I’m concerned,” Lucius had told him in no uncertain terms. “And you should tell Stede because he has a right to know.”

And Ed agreed, but after Jack paid a visit to Stede, the last thing Ed wanted to bring up was one other way he fell short. Because Izzy had been his best friend for years, hadn’t he? Right up until he met Stede, before he could safely call Lucius anything other than his therapist, it had always been Izzy.

It was also partly his fault for them ending up here. Had Ed just told Izzy plan as day years ago that what they did when they were kids wasn’t love and never had been, that what Ed felt would never change to love, this whole mess may have never happened.

Chauncey may still have tried some shit, but chances were he wouldn’t have succeeded and may have ended up the way of his brother if he kept trying. 

After Lucius left, promising to bring back something to eat since Ed hadn’t since sometime around noon, Ed drew a bath in Stede’s fuck-off bathtub. It wasn’t quite the same, there had been almost no lavender salts left, and only a bottle of Ed’s body wash he’d forgotten for bubbles. But it was warm and relaxing, and when Lucius came back, he could just sit outside the door while Ed got out.

While waiting, he contemplated trying Stede’s phone again, but he was beginning to think he was being ignored. Maybe Jack came back when he couldn’t find Ed at home. Or maybe Stede just got wrapped up in things with his kids, even though it was probably past a reasonable bedtime for someone as young as them.

Ed heard the faint sounds of footsteps, then a shuffle out in the living room. He waited a beat, curious if Lucius would say something, come looking for him, or just wait Ed out on the couch.

“Ed?” Stede called, and Ed’s heart leaped at the sound of it.

“Down here,” Ed called back, then instantly regretted it because they hadn’t even properly kissed yet, and he was inviting Stede to the bathroom where he was fucking naked.

Not the first time he was nude in front of Stede, but Stede didn’t know that.

Ed watched Stede’s shadow in the bedroom until the man himself appeared in the doorway.

He looked as tired and wrung out as Ed, but he still had a smile and blushed when he met Ed’s eye.

“Lucius has informed me that you’ve had quite the day.”

“He told you?” Ed asked, bringing his knees up to hide his bits a bit as Stede came into the bathroom.

Ever the gentleman, though, Stede averted his eyes as he came into the room, looking down at the floor until he was at the edge of the tub. Then, as he had always done before, he turned his back and sat on the floor. Twisting just enough to look at Ed, he then leaned his head back on the ledge and sighed.

“He didn’t give me details,” Stede told him as Ed slowly lowered his knees back down into the water. “Just mentioned a tiff between you and Izzy.”

Ed sighed, closing his eyes.

“He did stuff, Stede. Talked to Chauncey and let him know where you were going that night. Called Jack just to try and stir shit.”

“He tried to win you back.”

“Wasn’t any winning back to be done,” Ed said, opening his eyes and meeting Stede’s gaze. He didn’t deserve the patience and understanding in it, not when Ed brought so much bullshit into his life.

“I can’t really blame him for trying, in any case,” Stede murmured, shifting so his arm was stretched along the ledge of the tub toward Ed.

Ed twisted a bit, reaching for Stede’s hand and lacing their fingers together. Stede’s hand curved around the back of Ed’s, his thumb brushing over Ed’s nail. It was awkward, and maybe a touch uncomfortable, but Ed didn’t really care. He pressed his cheek against Stede’s fingers, soaking in the warmth and softness of his skin.

“I never really liked the man, but I am sorry you seemed to have lost a friend.”

“He’s been in my life longer than anyone short of my mum,” Ed admitted. 

“Are you sure you want to let him go, then?”

“You could have died,” Ed told Stede in no uncertain terms. “Know you probably almost did more than once while you were in the coma. Izzy’s partly to blame for that, and I’m not sure I could forgive him. Barely sure I did the right thing by making him keep his job, but… he needs help. And he needs something to come back to when he gets it.”

Stede nodded, giving Ed’s hand a squeeze. The way he held it reminded Ed far too much of how it felt when not-ghost Stede did the same thing, and he impulsively turned his head a bit more to kiss Stede’s knuckles.

Stede stared at the skin where Ed’s lips touched, a furrow in his brow. His lips moved and twitched a couple of times like he was going to say something, then Stede sighed and shook his head with a deprecating smile.

“Lucius informed me you hadn’t eaten. There’s some sandwiches from a good little shop I know of waiting in the living room for us. I know it’s late, but….”

“Man, I’m fucking starving,” Ed admitted. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you out there.”

“Of course,” Stede said, giving Ed’s hand one last squeeze before turning away and getting up with a groan. “Not as young as I used to be,” He chuckled.

“Fuck, aren’t we all,” Ed snorted, earning a bit more laughter from Stede. 

It was so good to have him back, to have all this again. Even if Stede hadn’t realized how often they’d sat just like that before.

“Stede?” Ed called as Stede passed the threshold.

He paused, turning to Ed inquisitively.

“Will you stay with me here tonight?”

He heard the sharp intake of breath, even if nothing about Stede seemed to physically react.

“Alright,” He agreed quietly. “I’ll let Mary know so she doesn’t fret.”

With that, Stede left, leaving Ed to take a moment to wonder what the hell he was doing when the night had already been a fucking emotional roller-coaster.

~*~

When Ed woke up, he felt like he’d been hit by a truck. His body ached all over, and he had the barest hint of a headache.

But he was also surrounded by warmth, with the weight of another human pressed against his back and an arm around him, holding him as close as someone could hold another in their sleep. Stede’s breath came in soft puffs against his shoulder, and their ankles were half entwined with one another. 

He didn’t want to move, not an inch, not an infinitesimal amount if it meant somehow losing this. For all those mornings Ed had found himself waking up to a part of him passing through Stede before, he hadn’t thought this would be the way they’d actually find themselves when they were both flesh. And it was better, somehow easing the lingering paranoia and doubt that all the things that came up the day before would push Stede away.

Then Ed realized the arm around him was castless and panicked a moment.

“What?” Stede groaned as Ed pushed himself up and away. He looked at the mattress where he’d been, only to realize that Stede had tucked his cast-covered arm between their pillows.

“Shit, sorry,” Ed whispered, taking a moment to settle before he laid back down, turning to face Stede. “Thought I was gonna fuck up your arm the day you’re supposed to get that thing off.”

Stede hummed in understanding as he looped his arm around Ed, bringing him closer.

His eyes were still closed, his face relaxed with sleep still. His curls were rumpled, and there was a slight pillow track on his cheek, hinting at more that Ed couldn’t see. Stede was beautiful, an absolute sight. Alive and there, holding on to Ed like he didn’t want to let him go for anything and it was everything Ed had imagined it would be.

“Time is it?” Stede asked with a slight lilt, words still mostly sleep slurred.

“Probably about five. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet,” Ed told him, unable to resist the urge to brush his nose against Stede’s. 

“Mmph,” Stede grumbled, shifting closer. “Few more minutes, then.”

Ed closed his eyes and hummed in agreement, brushing his nose against Stede’s a bit more, then again.

The third time, though, it wasn’t noses that brushed. Stede must have shifted slightly in his half-sleep, causing’ Ed’s nose to glance off the side and for perpetual motion to have their lips brush.

Instinct had Ed pucker, loose and not really putting any effort behind it. It was barely more than the brush he put to Stede’s knuckles the night before.

The reaction was not the sleepy, half-kiss in return Ed might have expected. 

Stede reared back, putting nearly a foot of distance between his face and Ed’s. His eyes were wide and wild, and he looked at Ed as if he’d never seen him before in his life.

Ed’s chest seized in panic.

“Stede?” He asked, his heart starting to hammer in his chest.

“Ed,” Stede said. Not a question, just a statement. His eyes darted over Ed’s face, and before Ed could ask what happened, Stede was on him.

Viciously, ravenously on him, like if he didn’t kiss Ed right that moment he would, in fact, slip right back into a coma and whither away to nothing. Ed could barely keep up, which reminded him that this was a man who hadn’t been with anyone in over a decade.

“When you let loose, you really let loose,” Ed said around a delirious laugh as Stede finally allowed him to breathe.

Stede pulled back from where he’d moved to Ed’s jaw and just stared at him a moment. Then he smirked with a glint in his eye that had Ed a little bit terrified but far more excited.

Ed knew that he was going to be late for work. He couldn’t have cared less.

~*~

“Fucking hell, he’s humming.”

“Is that Adele?”

“The fuck if I know. Why the hell is he humming, though?” 

Ed just smirked to himself as he listened to Roach and Jim chatter behind him. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

He had been late for work. Pretty damn late, actually. Roach was there before he was, and all Ed could do was grin and apologize. 

“Might have something to do with the hickeys on his neck,” Roach commented, and Ed snorted, ruining his tune.

“I don’t fucking wanna know,” Jim said decisively. “And if I have to hear about it, I’m gonna start being the one ‘round here with the reputation for driving knives in hands and shit.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Ed said over his shoulder before returning to the chopping he’d been preoccupied with.  He may have gone back to humming, which earned him an eye roll from Jim but no further commentary.

There were some wary stares as some of the kitchen staff he was less familiar with started coming in. Whether from the humming or the hint of a grin Ed found himself wearing constantly, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, his reputation was preceding him, and no one dared question it. And those who dared to ask Jim about it backed off when they flashed a knife their way.

“Boss,” Izzy called from the doorway, keeping his eyes down. “Bonnet’s at the bar.”

Ed glanced at the clock, then grinned. He hadn’t even realized it was past one, meaning the Stede at the bar would be cast free. Getting one of the newbies to take over for him, wiped his hands and headed for the door, eager to see his partner whole again.

Izzy stopped him before he could pass by.

“I’m leaving next week. I asked the tw-Spriggs if he had any, uh, resources. To help, and all. He gave me a few, looked them up. One had a cancellation, could fit me in.”

Ed nodded, noting that Izzy couldn’t look him in the eye as he spoke. 

“Good to hear,” Ed said, lifting a hand to clap Izzy on the shoulder but stopping himself at the last second. That wasn’t them anymore, and the action was so ingrained Ed hadn’t even realized he was doing it. 

He stepped past Izzy without another word or gesture, not sure what he could or should say or do in this situation and with the way things were.

When Ed spotted Stede at the bar, he was deep in conversation with Ivan and Fang. It appeared animated, and Ed kept back a moment just to watch this strange melding of his worlds without his involvement.

The trio laughed at something, Fang giving Stede a playful smack on his arm before turning to Ivan and gesturing at Stede like he couldn’t believe what he’d just said. They seemed perplexed but not put out by Stede, which was a good thing as far as Ed could tell. At least they weren’t being rude to him like Izzy would have been.

Ed crept forward, weaving around the bartenders and catching Stede’s eye in the process.

“Hello, darling!” He crowed as Ed came near. “Fang, Ivan, and I were just catching up.”

Ed furrowed his brow but chuckled.

“How’s the arm?” He asked instead of wondering whatever the hell Stede meant by ‘catching up.’ Probably best he didn’t know. 

Stede raised the arm that had been incased since before he woke up and flashed his slightly paler wrist for Ed to see. 

“I can wear a watch again. The one I had was probably destroyed in the crash. Pity, that. I rather liked it. Hadn’t even occurred to me that I hadn’t had it until they took the cast off.”

“You thought they kept it on you or something?” Ed asked as he leaned on the bar beside Stede.

“Well, I vaguely remember it being there before. Suppose it just clicked that it would have been gone with the suit. I liked that suit, too.”

“Was a good suit,” Ed said with a slight nod.

“It was. None of my others are quite the same.”

“So this is the bloke you’ve been all up and down on, huh?” Fang asked with a gesture to Stede.

“In fairness to Stede, he’s had a rough go.”

“Yeah, so we heard,” Ivan said as he reached for his soda. “Jack still giving you trouble?”

“You know, I have no idea if the fucker is still kicking around here or not. Hadn’t crossed my mind since yesterday. He give you trouble?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Ivan shrugged. “Suppose Izzy told him to sod off.”

“You hear about that?” Ed winced.

“Stede told us. Made sense as to why Izzy hadn’t stuck around when he came by,” Fang replied. There was a hint of wistfulness in his tone, but he and Ivan hadn’t been as close to Izzy as Ed was. If they knew the full extent of what went down, they didn’t let on. Maybe more would come of it while Izzy was gone, but that was a problem for future Ed to deal with.

“I can’t really stay, was a bit late this morning, so I should probably not fuck off in the middle of my shift,” Ed said to Stede with a cheeky grin.

He expected Stede to blush, but the bastard just smiled serenely. 

“Stayed in bed too long, did you?” He teased. 

“Might have.”

“Well, you always did have trouble dragging yourself out of bed after a long day. Suppose it makes sense.” Stede grinned politely as the bartender brought him an iced tea. He then returned his attention to Ed. “I thought maybe you could come back to the yacht after work tonight, have dinner with me there.”

“I’d like that. See you then?” He asked, and when Stede nodded, he dared give him a kiss on the cheek.

Ivan and Fang immediately started to make oohs and awws and little kissy noises that had Ed flashing him both middle fingers before he returned to the kitchen.

If he started humming in anticipation for the evening ahead, that was his business.

~*~

“Honey, I’m home!” Ed called as he went down the stairs at a quick clip. He’d been excited to come back, to return to a place that felt more like home than his own place ever had. 

He paused at the bottom when a picture he’d never seen before caught his eye: the kids and Stede in front of a castle in a theme park. Ed then glanced around the rest of the room and noticed little things that hadn’t been there before. A couple of little ships clearly made by children sitting on a shelf he hadn’t realized was empty before. A picture of Stede and Mary with drinks in hand, looking very much more like a pair of best mates on a vacation than a married couple. He actually had to get a closer look to see that there had, in fact, been wedding rings on their hands in the photo. 

Turning, he noted a miniature of the yacht, and not far from it, where there had been a bland piece of art, was what had to be the lighthouse painting Stede had told Ed about. It hadn’t been quite what he was picturing when Stede had told him about it, but he could see why Stede would want the exact style copied forever on his skin. Was quite unique and made Ed want to see the rest of Mary’s paintings.

“What do you think?” Stede asked from the hallway leading to the galley, his quiet entry only startling Ed a little.

“Like it,” Ed grinned, gesturing to the painting.

Stede smiled at it fondly before turning to Ed.

“Dinner is ready. And by ready, I mean I unpacked it and put it on plates. Want me to bring it out here?”

“Sure,” Ed said, wandering over to the couch, sitting down and stretching out his leg until Stede came back.

It was only a couple of minutes, Stede carrying the plates in both hands, though one was noticeably shakier than the other. 

“I’d have gotten the drinks at the same time, but-“

“Don’t worry about it, love,” Ed said as he got up, brushing a kiss on Stede’s cheek. “In the kitchen?”

“Yes,” Stede told him, turning to place a quick peck on Ed’s lips before he went to the galley to get whatever Stede couldn’t carry.

He frowned at the bottles of cola sitting on the counter but grinned at them as well. He hadn’t really noticed what Stede had brought out for food, but he supposed the man wouldn’t have paired just anything with soda.

When he returned to the living room, Ed caught a whiff of cumin and chili.

“Mexican?” He asked as he joined Stede on the sofa.

“I know you like it, and I’m not against it,” Stede told him as he tilted his head to Ed’s plate.

There was a burrito on it, which Ed observed with a tilt of his head. He glanced at Stede’s plate, seeing he had a quesadilla instead. An odd choice since Ed himself would have ordered two of what Stede had if he hadn’t known what his dinner date would like.

Gingerly, he picked up the burrito and took a bite. 

“The hell?” He said around the bite when he realized Stede had gotten his order pretty much dead on. 

“I remembered you liked them,” Stede said breezily as Ed swallowed the bite. “Wasn’t sure what all was in it, but I remembered enough of what I saw to make an educated guess.”

“Remembered?” Ed frowned at Stede. He hadn’t ever told Stede his order. And saw? He’d never sent Stede a picture of his food, too self-conscious that it would somehow give away who he had been. 

In fact, the only time Ed had ever had Mexican in which Stede would have known was when-

His eyes widened, and he dropped the burrito on his plate with a splat.

Stede’s lips retreated into his mouth, face turning red as he did his best to suppress a laugh.

“You fucking dick,” Ed said as he grabbed Stede by the back of the head and brought him in to crush his lips to Stede’s. “You remember.” He said against them.

“I remember,” Stede confirmed, nodding as much as he could with being pressed to Ed. “All of it, the whole time. Everything.”

“How long?”

“Only since this morning,” Stede’s hands came up and cradled the back of Ed’s head, fingers threading through his hair. “After you kissed me, it all came back. I was starting to get bits of it back from the beforehand, and after our date-“

“Fucking hell, that is some weird shit.”

“It is,” Stede agreed with a chuckle.

Ed burst into giggles. Full on giggles until they morphed into a laugh that Stede seemed to fall into as well. 

~S~

The rush of memories had been an experience Stede hoped never to have again. It had been dizzying, overwhelming, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once. In a span of seconds, he’d realized he had gone through something that people had tried to put into words but often failed to articulate in writing. Mostly because there wasn’t a way to put it into words. He knew that now with an understanding he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. 

“So I actually woke you up with a kiss. Not once, but twice?”

Ed had insisted on the bath. Stede had realized before that he’d accidentally gotten the man addicted to them, giving Ed his own little act of self-care where no one could judge him if he didn’t measure up to the archaic expectations of what a manly man was. 

Stede wasn’t about to deprive him of it and was certainly not going to turn down the chance to finally join him. It would have been weird to do it when he had been wearing clothes he couldn’t remove or properly hold Ed against his chest as he breathed in the comforting scents wafting from the hot water.

“I think you did,” Stede admitted, shifting the arm that was around Ed’s shoulder, draped across his chest to be more comfortable. The one wrapped around Ed’s waist had been the one kept in plaster, and probably deserved a good soak. He didn’t want to think what it had probably smelled like before he submerged it. “It was Buttons who suggested it when I was having a bit of a crisis yesterday. Or, rather, when the memories had started to come back with a bit more fervor than they had been prior to our interrupted kiss outside the restaurant.”

“So, three times. Or two and a half,” Ed reasoned. “Huh, fucking wild.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How often those fairy tales featuring true love’s kiss had some basis in reality?”

Ed tensed in Stede’s hold.

“True love’s kiss?” He asked in a guarded tone.

Stede swallowed. 

Well done, Bonnet. Get your memories back then scare off the best thing that ever happened to you.

“Well,” He said, mouth then moving with nothing coming out. He took a breath, and tried again. “I mean. It’s… well, there was the whole…. I-I suppose, maybe, if you’d rather, we can… think of it differently? I mean, I know you said I make you happy, and you certainly make me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been before. And, well, for the sake of honesty and clarity and all that, I was already… half in… well, before when we talked and hadn’t met, I, um.”

“Stede?” Ed interrupted his rambling, making Stede shut his mouth. He turned in Stede’s hold, taking his face in his rough, calloused hands and holding his gaze.

“I love you, too.”

Stede took another deep breath.

“Oh, thank god,” He rushed out, tilting his head back against the ledge of the tub. As Ed chuckled, Stede groaned. “You don’t have to laugh. It’s not like I knew!”

“Mate, I was pretty fucking obvious about the whole thing. Both before and after, and before before. All of it.”

“That doesn’t mean you wanted to acknowledge it!” Stede said as he lifted his head. 

“What the hell would be the point in not?”

“Well, to everyone else, we only just met. Mary, Lucius, they know, of course. But Fang? Ivan? Hell, Izzy!?”

“Fuck ‘em. Let’em all think what they want.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Stede smirked. “You’re not going home tonight, are you?”

“I am home,” Ed said sincerely, making Stede melt a little. He’d wanted to kiss him like he had so many times before when Ed looked at him like that: like Stede had hung the moon and stars just for him. 

And since nothing was stopping him, he did. Again and again, until they turned pruney and the water turned cool. Then continued in bed, slow and lazy, until sleep took them. Both knowing now that when they woke up, they would so to one another. And, if Stede had his way, they would do it over and over for the rest of their hopefully long lives.

Chapter Text

If the first wedding was a social event to mark the joining of two wealthy families, the second was a testament of love with an opulence that reflected how beautiful and deep the couple love one another.

Stede got to wear teal instead of brown and walk down the aisle instead of standing at the end of it with all the guests staring at him while they waited for the whole thing to start. There was no droning priest but a teary-eyed justice who mentioned more than once how wonderful it was to officiate at an actual ceremony instead of the courthouse.

And the whole time the justice spoke at the alter, rattling on about love and commitment and all that, Stede had eyes only for Ed. 

Ed, who was dressed in black and purple, standing on the opposite side, and who only had eyes for Stede.

Which, while still surreal and incredible, meant Stede was not exactly paying attention to what was going on around them.

A pointed clearing of a throat had him snapping out of it. He looked to Doug, who appeared amused, then heard Mary’s very pointed, “rings?”

“Right!” Stede said just as Ed snapped out of it and started digging in his inner pocket. The guests chuckled as Stede went to do the same, and he gave the couple and the crowd an apologetic smile.

He handed Mary’s wedding ring - a new one - to Doug so he could slip it on her finger, and Ed handed Mary Doug’s to do the same.

“Keep your calendar open. They’ll be next,” Mary stage whispered to the justice, which earned another chuckle from the guests and a blush from the men in question.

It had taken them both aback when Mary and Doug asked them to stand with them on their big day, one that was set a month after the divorce certificate was in their hands. Doug had stated that Stede was like family, and since he didn’t have a brother or even any super close male friends, he’d be honored to have Stede as his best man. Which was strange enough, but Mary had asked if Stede would give her away as well, mostly to rub it in their families’ faces. It surprised Ed just as much when Mary asked him to join her when Evelyn very vehemently denied the request to be maid of honor. 

They had become pretty fast friends once the four of them got to spend more time together, and it became clear that Ed was going to be with Stede for the long haul.

Couldn't be any clearer than Ed moving onto the yacht for good the day after Stede regained his memories. 

Stede had made room for Ed’s clothes in his closet and came to accept that Ed would steal Stede’s things whenever he could. He also came to accept that he would, in fact, live off sandwiches for dinner if he didn’t cook or bring something home himself. But these were things he only pretended to complain about for the sake of complaining and basked in them as much as he did waking up next to Ed every morning. This time without having to worry about Ed’s limbs passing through him, though Stede sometimes missed the way it felt to be so strangely connected to someone like that.

The rings were exchanged, the kiss to seal the deal was given, and Stede was brought back to reality again as the guests applauded the newly married couple. 

From there, it was a blur of pictures, which really just ended up being a new set of family photos. Mary, Doug, and the kids. Stede with Ed and the kids. All six of them together. He could already imagine where those precious snapshots would go on the yacht, their places of honor: a shelf they’d put up just below Mary’s lighthouse painting.

As of now, that shelf held a brass whale paperweight, an empty jar of lemon-ginger marmalade, and a fancy copy of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.

Stede would have to move the rings he’d hidden inside the jar first. It wouldn’t due for Ed to find them before Stede could orchestrate the perfect proposal. 

He was thinking of taking the yacht out at sunset, though just the two of them this time.