Chapter Text
Stede stares at the chaos unfolding before him, sand kicked up everywhere, coconuts flying.
Jack cackles and nails Roach hard enough to knock him flat onto the sand, groaning with pain. Next goes Wee John, then Oluwande. Stede swallows against the lump in his throat as Jack tackles Pete onto the ground with that stupid, raspy laugh. “Got you now, fucker. Bullseye!” His voice might be different, rough and slurred from rum, but it sounds so much like the Badminton from his childhood nightmares, casually cruel, endlessly mocking and superior. How could Ed stand to be around someone like this, nevermind…
Nevermind sleep with him? Feel something for him? Maybe even…
“Ough!” Ed grunts, stumbling back as a coconut hits him square in the chest. Stede’s attention immediately snaps to him, the way the muscles of his back tense to brace the impact, how his long hair sways with it. His thoughts stutter with the realization that Ed’s stripped off his shirt, exposing scars and tattoos he didn’t even know existed—
“Fucking got you, fucker!” Jack shouts, winding back another. “Never turn your back on a bastard!”
Ed stumbles back enough to notice Stede, and he turns, face lighting up. “You’re back! Come join us, mate, we’re having a coconut war! Every man for himself!”
A coconut war sounds like the least appealing activity on Earth. Up ahead, several members of his crew are being brutalized, coconut after coconut, dropping like flies. Stede stares, feet rooted in place. Each coconut hitting the sand sounds like stones hitting the surface of a river, clunking against the wooden sides of a dingy. The world unfocuses a little, blurring around the edges. “Yeah, come on, Steve!” Jack taunts, adding more ammunition to his pile. “Join the fun!”
Stede stands there, wobbling on his feet. He remembers another time, the burn of his muscles, the rope around his wrists. 'Row, baby Bonnet, row!'
“No,” he chokes out, “No thank you, I won’t.”
Ed’s brow furrows, confused. “What?”
Stede feels like he’s choking on those stones, heart beating out of his chest, feeling the dull ache of every impact against his skin. He stumbles a step backwards, then another, and soon he’s practically running back toward the ship, tripping over his own feet in the sand. He can't stand another second of those watchful eyes, that familiar smile.
“Stede!” Ed shouts after him, panic inching into his voice.
“Aw, don’t go, Steve!” Jack calls after him, “Come on, we coulda had so much fun!”
His stomach turns at the implication of those words, how much Jack would’ve enjoyed pelting him with coconut after coconut, knocking him down, humiliating him. His face burns, hands balled into fists. He wants to grab a coconut and give him a taste of his own medicine. He wants to disappear and change his name, never see a living soul again. More than anything, he wants to stop feeling this same, pathetic weakness he’s been feeling since he was ten years old and hiding flower pressings from his father, since he had his hands tied to oars, since he let himself be bullied into a marriage he didn’t want and a life he couldn’t live, a whole useless, senseless string of lies.
He stumbles up to the treeline and ducks back into the shade, catching himself against a young palm tree. God, he’s so pathetic. No wonder Ed likes Jack more than him.
“Stede, wait!”
He turns to find Ed bursting through the treeline, searching. The moment he spots Stede, he comes running. The sliver of happiness that seeing him brings is quickly swallowed by the shame of running out so dramatically, his own weakness, his own inadequacy. When Ed reaches him, he turns away to the forest, refusing to meet his eye.
“Hey,” Ed says, soft enough to give his heart a violent tug. “What happened, mate?”
Stede fixes his eyes ahead. “Don’t worry yourself about it, I’m quite alright.”
“You don’t seem so alright. Come on, work with me.”
Stede’s shoulders tense up even further, but he forces himself to turn and look at Ed, really look at him. Big mistake. One glimpse of the concerned slope of his brow, and he feels like he’s had the air punched straight from his lungs.
“I, um… I just had a bad memory is all. It’s stupid.”
It somehow sounds even worse than in his own head, and he immediately turns away again, hiding his face. Ed reaches after him. Calloused fingers brush the side of his jaw, unbelievably gentle, and he’s turned back around.
There are moments, like this one, where he thinks he must be afraid of Blackbeard. Moments where the sight of him across the deck makes his breath hitch, where he feels nervous and fidgety standing too close. Right now, staring up at his concerned expression, his lips parted slightly with the beginnings of a question, he holds his breath, heart pounding obnoxiously in his ears.
Ed’s hand shifts against his face as he leans closer, searching his gaze. “Memories aren’t stupid, Stede. Remember…” he hesitates, swallowing. “Remember that night with the Kraken? And the bathtub? I know how strong memories like that can be. Talk to me.”
Stede blinks rapidly, overwhelmed. He swallows back the tension that rises at the memories, closing his eyes. “It’s nowhere near as painful as yours, believe me. Some of the boys from school took to tormenting me when I was younger, and… well, your little coconut war reminded me of them, I suppose. They would…”
He thinks over his words, remembering the cruel laughter that had echoed across the lake, the dull throb of every stone against his skin. He opens his eyes.
“They threw stones at me, one time. And the coconuts just… reminded me. That's all.”
Ed drops his face to take a step back, shaking his head. Stede’s heart sinks at the realization he must think the story is ridiculous, that he’s finally grown tired of Stede’s antics, but then he notices the sharp lines drawn across his face, the tight fists his hands have balled into. “Fuck, Stede, are you kidding me? Those little bastards threw rocks at you? Actual rocks?”
Stede blinks at him. “Uh, yes. Actual rocks. Rather big ones, too.”
Ed huffs out a sound of aggravation, pacing back and forth in front of the palm tree. “What kind of asshole throws rocks at people? Big rocks? I mean, god, we’re bloodthirsty pirates, and we only throw coconuts!”
“Are coconuts much better?”
“Leagues better, mate! Leagues! Rocks are sharp and dense and shit! Coconuts are much easier to take a hit from, fuck!”
Stede can’t help a faint smile at his restlessness, watching him gesture wildly with his hands and curse out a bunch of schoolchildren from decades past. His chest warms.
Ed turns sharply, suddenly way too close, eyes intense as he grabs ahold of Stede’s shoulders. “God, I’m sorry that happened to you. Kids can be so shitty. You were probably the only decent one of the bunch, mate.”
The thought of his younger self makes his face burn again. “Ah, well… I’m not so sure about that. I was more of a coward than anything, always reading, or picking flowers…”
“Flowers?” Ed asks, interest piqued. “You would pick flowers? From the ground?”
Stede’s face burns with the shame of the memory. “Sometimes. Well, most times, really. I read how to press them and keep them preserved, started collecting them in secret.”
“Flowers,” Ed repeats, eyes wide. “Flowers! Fucking mental, mate! I bet you know all about the different kinds and shit, too, you maniac.”
His chest lightens pleasantly at the excitement, but he remains tense, some deep, buried part of him still waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for this whole thing to be revealed as a joke at his expense. “I… I kept them pressed inside an old journal, a herbarium, it’s called! Lovely word. I called mine the vegetarian herbarium . Stupid name, I know, but I’d doodle it in the margins of my textbooks, sketch some of the specimens.”
Ed lights up even more. “Vegetarian herbarium! That’s brilliant, mate, rhymes well and everything! God, I wish I had something cool to collect!”
“It’s not too late to start,” Stede says, tilting his tone toward hopeful. “Maybe you could find something that interests you, start collecting coins or something.”
“Coins,” Ed whispers, awed. “You’re a genius! We already have a bunch of coins coming through from each haul, so that’s a perfect thing to collect! Brilliant!”
Stede can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm, the same secret excitement he would feel snatching up a new flower or discovering a new favorite book. Those were always parts of himself he kept locked away like dirty secrets, hidden under his bed. Sure, Ed has always enjoyed his little eccentricities, but these are things he’s never let anyone see without getting burned, and he’s still grinning and rambling on about the coins. “Your library’s gotta have something about them, some kinda coin collector’s guide—”
“Come back with me.”
Ed freezes, eyes snapping back to him immediately. “Come… back with you?”
Stede’s face burns. He wanted the request to come off as casual, maybe even offhanded, but the urgency of his tone betrayed him, and now he feels thrust into the spotlight. “Um, yeah. Let’s just forget this and head back to the ship, have an early dinner. Okay?”
Ed stares at him, a smile spreading like molasses across his face, slow and sweet. “Okay. Yeah, sounds good, mate. Just wait here one second, I’ll grab Jack and the crew—”
Stede feels a spike of panic at the words, grabbing his arm when he turns to leave. “Not Jack, I’ve had enough of him today. Let’s just… go alone?”
Silence settles over them, thick and heavy as the humidity. Ed stares at him, smile fading.
“What do you mean, had enough of him?”
Stede glances down at his feet. Has Ed seriously not noticed all the tension and hatred oozing off them both today? “Look, I know he’s your friend, and maybe I’m stepping out of line by saying this, but he’s a bad influence, Ed. I mean, last time I saw you, you were making a crab fight a turtle. That’s just cruel!”
Ed stares at him, the openness evaporating straight off his face, eyes intense and unreadable through the shadows. “Cruel?” he repeats, an edge to his voice.
Stede opens his mouth to say something, but Ed shakes his head and stumbles back a step, a faint tremble to his fingers. “You really think that, don’t you? That that’s Jack’s influence on me?”
“Of course I do,” Stede says, reaching out for him.
“No,” he says, flinching away, sounding wounded from somewhere deep, off-balance. Stede draws in a sharp breath, heart seizing inside his chest. Ed hasn’t shied away from him like this before, not so violently, like his hands could burn, and now he’s laughing like a madman. “Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe I actually thought…” he trails off, brows pinching together.
“I don’t understand,” Stede says, panicked. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Ed demands, incredulous. “That’s me you’re talking about, not Jack! I’m the one you’re calling cruel! And I told you, in the bathtub, I told you I was a bad person! I told you that’s why I didn’t have any friends! And now you’re—”
Ed’s voice cracks, and he gasps for air, looking anywhere but at Stede. He looks so pained, so alone. Stede can’t stand it. “You’re not a bad person, Ed. If Jack hadn’t been here—”
“Jack doesn’t just magically turn me into some heartless monster! I was already a bad guy, Stede! Look at me! I’m fucking Blackbeard, man! I hurt people for a living, for fun!”
“I—” Stede says, stumbling over his words, heart racing, feeling like he’s fucked up yet another good thing, the one thing he didn’t want to lose. “I didn’t mean that, Ed. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, or a… a monster, I just—”
“Well, I fucking am,” Ed says, throwing up his hands. “That’s exactly what I am, Stede. I’m the kind of guy that waves it off when his crewmates die, and makes his men put down their pets, and makes a turtle fight a crab for fucking laughs.” He slows down, breathless from shouting so long, red in the face from it. He stares at Stede, really looks at him, and something in his face crumples, a pained sort of sadness. It wrenches his heart so violently it makes him gasp, stumbling forward a step, restraining himself.
Ed’s next words are softer, weaker. “I told you, in the bathtub. I told you everything. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Of course I did! And I meant what I said!”
Ed shakes his head sadly. “You were always gonna realize what I am. I shouldn't have strung it out this long, I just thought…” his words trail off, eyes softening at the thought of a future, what could have been. Then his brows pinch together, harsh.
“Well, I guess I thought wrong.”
Stede’s heart collapses inside his chest. He wants to object, to tell him nothing matters except that moment in the bathtub, the warmth of the cheek against his hand, the pain sitting fresh and raw between them. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He just stands there, feet rooted to the ground, heart pounding out of his chest. Stede knows he should, but he says nothing.
Ed pauses midstride, throat bobbing with emotion, and Stede thinks he’s going to turn back around . Instead, he keeps facing straight ahead, voice monotone as he can hold it. “I’ll send the crew to meet you on the ship. Do yourself a favor and leave.”
Stede’s heart lurches so violently it nearly draws a sob from him, leaves him shaking, crumbled like a dying leaf. “Leave?” he croaks, voice so painfully small, so painfully close to breaking up like a ship on the rocks. “You want… you want me to leave?”
Ed scrubs a hand down his face, shaking his head. “No, not forever, just… give me some time to think this through, alright? Go restock your supplies or something, make port nearby, raid a ship. Just let me think.”
He’s so upset he doesn’t even want Stede around him anymore. Stede shrinks inward, wrapping his own arms around his middle as he struggles to breathe. “Alright,” he shakily agrees, hands knotting up in the fabric of his overcoat. “Just… I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t… You must know that I absolutely didn’t mean—”
Ed doesn’t wait. He goes stomping through the undergrowth and disappears back onto the beach, shoulders tense. Stede wants so desperately to say something, to reach out, to chase after him and make a scene. But he’s always fucking everything up, even this, and the thought of making things even worse stills his hand.
With nobody left to judge him, his legs immediately crumple beneath him, and he hits the ground hard and awkward, hand clenched in the front of his shirt. His head spins, heart throbbing in his chest like a fresh bruise, and he sits there for a long time, the order to leave echoing around inside his head like a killing blow.
-x-x-x-x—x-x-x-x-
“Woah, slow down, man,” Jack calls after him. “Where are you going?”
Ed doesn’t stop. He doesn’t think. He just grits his teeth and hacks through the undergrowth with his knife, tripping over roots in the shadows of the dying sun. The memories are all jumbled up in his head, Stede’s frantic apologizing, a sinking feeling in his gut like he’s ruined everything, Captain Hornigold’s bitter laugh echoing through the hold of the ship, a different place and time. ‘Are you seriously stupid enough to think he cared about you, boy?’ .
“Hey!!” Jack shouts, gaining on him. “Stop, Goddamn it, I’m too drunk for this shit!”
A hand grabs his wrist, rough and calloused, the same place Stede had reached for him, and Ed yanks his arm away as if burned. He whirls around, gasping for breath, and his wrath stutters at the sight of his friend’s face, confused and as worried as he’s ever seen it. Fuck, he must really look awful to get that reaction. Jack never worries.
“My bad,” he mutters, averting his gaze. “Just, y’know, clearing my head.”
Jack scowls, wobbling on his feet. “What the fuck happened back there, man? Why aren’t we heading back with the rest of them, Steve throw a fit or somethin’?”
“No, I— We got into an argument, that’s all. I needed some space, figured you’d rather be here than stuck bunking with the crew. I just… I need a minute.”
“Aw,” Jack drawls, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Better off without him, man, he’s way too uptight. And hey, now we’ve got all the time in the world to hang, relive the old days a bit! What d'ya say?”
The old days. Hauling ropes until his hands bled, and gouging out eyes, and swallowing back every hint of emotion that threatened to surface in his chest, stamping it out beneath his heels. He swallows and forces up a laugh, propping Jack up when he stumbles.
“Yeah, the good old days. Let’s light some shit on fire, mate.”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
-x-x-x-x—x-x-x-x-
“Captain?” Lucius tries, knuckles tapping in the doorframe.
Stede buries his head deeper into the blankets. “Go away, boy! I’m sleeping!”
He’s nowhere near asleep, unless this waking nightmare counts. He spent the last few hours at the window with a spyglass, waiting for a hint of motion from the treeline, but there’s nothing. Where could Jack and Ed have gone? He’d left them alone together, stranded on an island, in the middle of the night. And all the casual touches he caught between them today, all this talk about dalliances…
God, he’s a mess! Why does he even care? It hadn’t bothered him seeing Lucius and Black Pete together, and Oluwande and Jim seemed a great match, but something about Ed and Jack drives him absolutely up the wall! It just doesn’t seem right!
He sighs, their last conversation replaying in his head. All the things he should have said, could have said, if he weren’t such a coward, if he could voice his feelings like a regular person. If he hadn’t hesitated and run away when he should have kept chasing. If he hadn’t been such an idiot.
Ed’s anger had been bright and sharp in the moment, obscuring everything else, but looking back, he registers the shine of his eyes, the pained crease of his brow. Ed had been hurt. He’d looked pained, and small, and desperately, terribly sad. Stede buries himself deeper into the blankets and suppresses a sob, hating himself more than anything.
Footsteps approach the bed, and his grief twists into fury. “I told you to go away, boy!”
“Uh, hi. Yes, I know. I just noticed you’d seemed off, back on the beach, and then Blackbeard didn’t come back with us…”
Oh, what’s the use? His angry exterior crumbles, and he hurls the blankets off his head, forcing himself to look the boy in the eye. “I messed it all up, Lucius, all of it! God, I’m such an idiot. He was being so considerate, so nice to me, and then… I didn’t pay back the favor like I should have. I didn’t think about how everything would sound to him.”
Lucius gazes down with sympathy, mouth pressed into a thin line. “Do you think it’s done?”
“What? His residency here?” Stede hadn’t thought about that, and the mere thought makes his stomach swim with a new wave of dread and nausea—
“No, silly. Did he break it off with you?”
Stede freezes in place.
Lucius stares at him, brow furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Waves lap against the hull of the ship outside, filling the silence of the room, and he feels like he’s emptied his brain out onto the floor like an overturned bowl. Break it off? As in…
“You’re joking,” Lucius says, eyes wide and disbelieving. “You’re kidding, you’re absolutely kidding. There’s no way you didn’t know, right?”
Stede thinks about the first spike of fear he’d felt around Ed, how his breath had caught at the sight of him. He thinks of the weight of arms around him, how fidgety he would get in close quarters, chuckling awkwardly and stumbling over his own words. He thinks of that moment on the beach before everything went wrong, the feel of fingers tilting his face around, a compass pointing him North. The obnoxious pounding of his heart.
“Oh god,” Stede whispers, staring at Lucius. “Oh, god, I’m an idiot.”