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Israel Hands was many things . He was gruff , abrasive , cunning and had a head as thick as it was hot . He was an excellent swordsman and first mate to Captain Blackbeard , now soon to be Edward Teach-Bonnet (as much as he still thought that was a bad idea), and remained a loyal member aboard the Revenge.
But it hadn’t always been like that .
Once , in a part of his mind that he kept under lock and key and opened only when he was certain he was absolutely alone, when he was sure he would be able to have a breakdown without anyone as his witness , he’d been so much less and yet so much more .
He’d been a son and a brother .
He was 8 when his sister was born . Kathleen Eliza , Lizzy for short . At least , it was for him . Their dad always called them Boy and Girl , when he was even around to call them at all . Most of the time he’d be spending days lugging around cargo at the docks , and then spending what little he’d earned on beer and women . Their mother had died of eclampsia shortly after Kathleen was born . So it was mostly just them , Israel and Kathleen , later Izzy and Lizzy , when she grew old enough to speak but couldn’t pronounce his name . That day was one of the proudest in his life .
They were joined to the hip , birds of a feather and peas in a pod . There wasn’t really much of an alternative , but neither would have it any other way . Their dad had taken him out of school to help deal with being a single father to 2 young kids , but Izzy had learnt the basics of how to read and figure stuff out , and so spent any time he could reading with Lizzy , captivating his little sister in gripping tales of fearless explorers and fearful pirates .
It was only natural that both siblings loved all things nautical . Those rare instances when their dad was home and in a good enough mood , they’d grill him for tales he heard while working on the docks , and he’d tell them , sometimes while teaching them a trick or two he’d picked up . It was just about the only time when their father felt like their dad .
Sometimes , when it was just them two , when it was a clear sky at night , Izzy would bundle his sister up in what little warm clothes they had , and they’d make the trek to the top of the highest hill on the island , lie down on the blanket in the grass and look at the stars . If there was anything Lizzy loved more than ships and the sea , it was that .
Later , when he’d spent years as a sailor , Izzy would be able to skilfully navigate their voyage with the stars alone , but as a child , he’d only known of the Big Dipper and the North Star . So he had to get creative.
“What’s that ?” Asked Lizzy as she pointed up .
Izzy squinted in concentration , “Watcha looking at, kiddo ?”
“That!” She said , tracing a vague shape in the sky .
He hummed, deep in thought , “I think that’s an octopus .”
She giggled , clear and beautiful like the sky above her , “ there are no octopus in the sky , Iswael !”
He laughed , both at the statement and the frankly adorable way she still lisped his name , and hugged her close , “maybe we just haven’t seen one yet !”
She looked at him with wide , mischievous eyes , and whispered in awe “Do you think we’ll see one ?”
He lowered his own voice to a similar whisper and grinned , “Oh , you bet , kiddo , we’re gonna find stuff that most people can only dream of ”
“ X marks the spot ?” She said , tracing a cross in the sky .
He nodded , “X marks the spot.”
It was on that hill that they planned their adventures together . Brother and sister , getting their own ship and sailing away to faraway lands , discovering new places and going on all sorts of adventures . Captains Israel and Kathleen Hands .
They had it all planned out . As soon as he was old enough , he’d start working at the docks like their dad did , except he’d be learning the ropes of sailing from passing sailors and captains . He’d learn how to tie knots , how to navigate , how to man a ship and crew , how to keep food from spoiling , how to survive on choppy seas in a storm , and how to use a sword . All of it , and whatever he’d master , he’d teach her , and as soon as she was old enough , they’d sail off and become the most famous duo to have graced the seven seas .
It may have been 2 children’s fantasies , but it was a plan .
They had a plan .
But no one could have planned for the hurricane that hit the island when he was 15 .
The siblings had been alone at home for the past week , their father probably lying dead in a ditch somewhere . Izzy didn’t know , and he couldn’t know because going out in the howling wind and pounding rain was suicide . And if he left then Lizzy would be defenceless . They’d already finished their meagre pantry 5 days ago , and while he could handle going hungry , she was getting weak , and somehow , despite his efforts to get the hearth going with that scraps of wood he could find , their house was frigid .
And Lizzy had gotten pneumonia.
It started with coughing that wracked her small frame , which quickly progressed to vomiting ,fatigue , and then fever . As her lips began to turn blue from the lack of air getting into her fluid filled lungs, as her breaths became wheezing and strained , he knew that if he didn’t do something soon , then he’d lose his beloved sister .
And so he was left with no choice but to go out in the storm . He threw on his father’s cloak , threw their one of their last wooden stools into the dying flames , taking a moment to make sure that it wouldn’t go out again , and tucked Lizzy underneath their warmest blanket with a kiss to her feverish forehead and a promise to be back .
Please let it be enough , he begged as he put his hand on the doorknob , please don’t take her away . Please .
The rain pierced his thin cloak and the wind threatened to hurl him into the ground as he ran the half mile to the marketplace . The place was wrecked , the stalls blown to bits like a child’s wooden toy crushed by an ox cart . He raced around , looking for something , anything that would help Lizzy , but nothing . What little food that hadn’t been taken by people in a hurry upon hearing about the hurricane was riddled with mold and rat bites .
He had been looking for an hour and was seriously contemplating breaking into someone’s house , when he spotted it . A well sealed barrel against a shed , barely visible in the haze of rain. He pried it open and peered inside . Pickles and cured meats and pepper cakes . Enough food to last them for weeks , and hopefully enough to allow Lizzy to beat the illness until they could get her to a doctor . He grabbed as much as he could and raced back home . His veins sang from hope and adrenaline , his steps stronger , his face warm despite the frigid air .
But the fire had long since burnt out by the time he returned , and the house was cold.
And so was Lizzy , rosy cheeks pale , eyes shut , lips slightly purple and lying far , far too still .
He felt like his own lungs were filling up with fluid as he rushed to her . He scarcely felt the rough earth that scratched his knees as he fell beside her , mind blank in white-hot terror.
ohshitohshitnonononononoyoucanthaveheryoucanthavehertakemeinsteadpleasejusttakemeinstead
Please don’t take her away from me .
He tried to resuscitate her , throwing off his soaked cloak and bundling her up, giving her chest compressions , forcing airs into her lungs , only stopping to light a new fire and then hurrying her to it, rubbing her arms as he plead for some of her warmth to come back to her , sitting so close to the cackling flames that his forehead was soon beaded in sweat despite the cold wind blowing knives against his back.
Yet Lizzy remained still and cold and lifeless.
It had been too little too late . He’d been too little too late .
If anyone heard him scream , they would have thought it was the howling wind outside .
It took another day for the storm to die down , a time that he spent with his little sister’s corpse , a time when he could almost pretend that she was peacefully sleeping , that she’d wake up and they’d invent harrowing tales of surviving the combined forces of sea and sky , a time so fast and so slow that he was sure the skies were mocking him .
Of course you had to take her , he thought bitterly, too numb for even tears to fall , of course you wouldn’t fucking leave before you took away the one good thing I had.
Of course you couldn’t have just let her fucking stay .
The night was clear as he laid her to rest , wrapped ever so gently and snugly in her softest quilt , under a bed of flowers and a blanket of stars on the same hill they’d planned their adventures . He made sure that she was laid in a way that she’d always be looking at the stars she had so loved .
Maybe now you’ll find that octopus in the sky , kiddo , he thought as he finished shovelling dirt into her grave .
Then he sat down beside her and cried until the sun rose again .
The next day he took what few possessions he had and stowed away on the first ship he found that day . Within the next few months , he found himself at the Republic of Pirates . Within the next couple of years , he’d made something of a name for himself by being ruthless with his sword and found himself in the company of the legendary Blackbeard .
Later , he’d get a tattoo of an X on his cheek in honour of a popular childhood phrase and call it the North Star .
Later , he’d introduce himself only as Izzy Hands and carve the same name into his enemies , and lash out at anyone who mispronounced it .
Later , when the loneliness got too much , he’d climb into the crow’s nest and look at the stars . Sometimes , he could almost see the silhouette of a little girl beside him , still making up constellations .
Later , he’d do a double take whenever he saw a young woman with long , dark and wavy hair , or hear the name Eliza , and have to force himself to snap out of it .
Later , he’d let life harden him and he’d shed what was left of his past .
Except for 3 things .
A name , a tattoo and the memory of a little girl with laughter as clear as a starry night .