Title: Something Like This
Fandom: Our Flag Means Death (TV)
Characters: Izzy, Stede, Ed
Pairings: Ed/Stede, Izzy/Stede
Word Count: 1300
Rating: PG-13
A/N: After Episode 1x10, inspired by johdals' Izzy art.
Summary: Stede takes care of an injured Izzy who is too tired to put up a fight (and enjoys it).
Izzy hurts. He's not even sure how he's up and moving when Ed and Stede get him off of the Spanish ship. He's not even sure if any of this is actually happening. Maybe he's reached the point where even the hallucinations hurt. He can't remember the last time he's eaten, the last time he's had anything to drink, and is fairly certain he hasn't slept in three days, though things tended to blur together when you can't look out of a window.
There's a little while when things go more than a bit hazy and he just drifts on the waves while Stede and Ed talk to him to keep him awake. He doesn't answer, his throat is far too dry, but he does nod a few times when he thinks he's supposed to. Then Stede is holding a jug of water to his lips, telling him to take very small sips so he doesn't get sick. Izzy does what he's told until the entire jug is empty. Slowly, he starts to feel human again. By the time they reach The Revenge, he can sit up without leaning against either of his captains.
Somehow, he may have drifted a bit again, he finds himself inside of the captains' quarters. He sits still on the settee as Ed leaves the room and Stede bustles about, grabbing some supplies.
"I'm going to patch you up and get you feeling a bit better." He also grabs an apple from his desk. Grabbing a knife from his belt, Stede quickly chops the piece of fruit into quarters. "Here, you need to eat something before you rest."
He really wants to tell Stede to fuck off for being such a mother hen, but he's had the shit kicked out of him and can't muster up the energy. Izzy takes the fruit and eats it chunk by chunk until it's gone. It isn't nearly enough, but it will help. A wave of exhaustion goes through his body. He tries to ignore it as Stede sits down on the settee next to him.
Izzy closes his eyes at Stede's soft touch. Stede's fingers are still softer than his, softer than Ed's. He can feel the calluses against his skin as Stede gently prods around Izzy's eye, trying to see if anything's broken.
"I'm going to wash the blood from your face, Izzy. I think your injuries aren't nearly as horrible as they look underneath it all. Head wounds do tend to bleed far more than others." One of Stede's hands rests on Izzy's throat while the other dips a cloth into the bowl of water. He carefully washes the crimson from Izzy's skin, making sure not to press too hard as he works.
Izzy waits until he can't feel Stede's hands any longer before opening his eyes. The right is swollen most of the way shut, but he can see clearly through the left. Stede is staring at him in a way he's never quite been looked at before. He holds still as Stede really looks at him, as if seeing him for the first time. He's so fucking tired. "Stede, can you help me to my room?" He's honestly not sure he can make it all the way to his own cabin without passing out or further injuring himself.
"You're not going anywhere, not tonight." He gestures towards the bed. "You'll be using the bed. I'll sleep on the floor or maybe the settee."
For a moment, Izzy can't say anything. He knows if he argues, it won't be a battle he can win. He also knows he's exhausted and just about ready to fall over. "Bed's big enough for both of us." There's no way in hell he'll be forcing his captain to sleep somewhere else. "What about Ed?" The words have barely left his mouth when he knows what Stede's about to say.
"He said he'll be sleeping on deck with the crew." There's an expectant look on Stede's face, like he knows Izzy will tell him why that's happening.
With a sigh, Izzy sits up straighter, wincing as his bruised ribs pull. "If Ed blames himself for someone being hurt, even if it wasn't his fault, he tends to stay away from them for a couple of days until they're doing better." It's just the way Ed is.
He shrugs out of what's left of his shirt, looking down at the interesting colors his skin is already turning. Izzy can see the marks from a cane and various individual boot prints on his ribs and stomach. He traces one with a finger.
"Oh dear lord." Stede claps a hand over his mouth. "I am so sorry we didn't get you out of there sooner."
"I've had worse." It isn't a lie. "They weren't very creative. Fists, boots, one guy had a cane. Didn't even focus on the worst areas to injure, so they were either trying not to damage me too much or had no idea what they should do with a prisoner."
Stede clearly wants to ask something, Izzy can see it on his face. Izzy shakes his head. "No. I'm not going to tell you what I'm capable of or what I've done for Ed over the years. You'd never sleep properly again. Whatever you're thinking, it was probably worse."
He leans on Stede a bit as he makes his way over to the bed. "Might sleep better without the trousers on." Izzy allows Stede to unlace the trousers and helps shove them down to his ankles. Takes a little bit of effort to step out of them and lurch towards the bed.
The bed is far softer than he thought it would be. It could be the most comfortable thing he's ever sprawled himself onto. Even the pillows are soft. He doesn't know why there are quite so many, but they feel very nice against his sore skin. Izzy wriggles a little, making room for Stede to join him.
"Why are you being nice to me?" The words slip out before he can stop them. They've been at one another's throats even before Ed had fallen head over heels for Stede. Izzy had found it interesting or maybe a bit weird, that Stede had always been hostile towards him. Anyone else he had ever seen Stede talk to, they were shown his nicer side. It had never been like that for Izzy.
"I'm nice to everyone." Izzy makes a very rude noise. "Fine. I don't know? You just look like you could use someone being nice right now. Is that such a horrible thing, Izzy?" It takes Stede a bit to remove his clothing. He grabs a nightshirt from the back of a nearby chair, slipping it on over his head.
"No, it's not horrible." It wasn't, not really. He isn't used to nice, isn't used to someone being worried, and certainly isn't used to people other than Ed giving a shit about him. Izzy closes his eyes as the bed dips lower under Stede's weight. He knows he'll feel like absolute hell come morning. His muscles will hurt more than they do now, the bruises will stand out and change to more sickening colors, and his eye will still be swollen shut.
Right now though, right now, he was safe, comfortable, and being cared for. He was okay with it, even if it was Stede Fucking Bonnet taking care of him. Izzy doesn't even flinch when Stede's head rests on his shoulder or when Stede's arm is carefully wrapped around his chest. He's impressed Stede manages to miss the worst of the bruising. As he starts to drift off to sleep, Izzy smiles a little at how nice it feels to have Stede resting on top of him.