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“Fuck you Jack! He’s my friend!”
Calico Jack narrowed his eyes at Ed and went slack jawed for a moment. Stede stood beside him, stern face counteracting Ed’s wild and frantic demeanor. Contemplating the scene before him, his eyes lit up. “You’ve gotta be shitting me!”
His deep-throated, harsh cackle barely made its way around the thick air of the sullen ship before plummeting between the cracks of the wood as he read Ed’s face, and noticed the tight fist he held to his side. “You’re shitting me, right? What the fuck kinda business do pirates have being friends?”
Stede’s eyebrows rose up and he went to take a short step forward but Ed’s arm stopped him. “Mate, you’re need to leave before–“
“What? Before flower britches here stabs me with a thorn or somethin’?” Jack flicked his head toward the side of the boat. “C’mon, man, I saved your hide once. Don’t make me do it again.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
Jack grunted, and worked his jaw back-and-forth a few times before, “Izzy. He sold you out.”
“He sold us out?” Ed yelled. He shook his head, bewildered.
“Not you,” Jack nodded toward Stede. “Him.”
Stede audibly gasped, and looked to the man next to him. Ed’s eyes felt like they were bulging out of his fucking skull. He felt like he had just been gut punched by a ghost. Like a rope loosely tied around his ankle now held a death grip, winding its way around his body, creeping up to his neck. He could barely breathe. All he could muster was a barely audible and shaky whisper, “To who?”
“The British.”
And there it was. That dreaded anchor had finally dropped. Ed had a realization, and nearly choked on it; it wasn’t his ankle or throat or body that the heaviest lead he could imagine was iron-gripped to. It was a newly strewn together stack of rushed diary entries he had been safe-keeping. A scrawled-on notebook that was bound together by recent findings alone: fits of laughter over the most lavish breakfasts he could have ever imagined, but had started to think he could deserve; soft touches shared after early afternoon speeches to the crew once everyone around them had pointedly scattered; the resin of sugar from tea made by the hands of someone he liked to steal glances of in the morning sunshine and the way those same golden rays had reflected off his dewy skin when he stretched out of bed and the way the halo of his hair outlined his perfectly sculpted goddamn face and -
He let go of the breath he had been holding in. He really had hoped these last few weeks could’ve been a new chapter in his life. Hell, he hoped it would’ve been a whole new book. He’d been reciting the same damn lines and using the same paragraphs and sentences and words punctuations over and over again for so damn long he thought he’d finally started writing a new novel. Ripped up the old one. Burned it, and took the ashes to sea. But this anchor, seemingly always finding its way back, sank right into the pit of his stomach. It fell to his knees, and they buckled under the pressure. He felt like he was folding in on himself.
“Should probably think of what you want your last meal to be.” Jack winked at Stede. “They’ll probably be here by mid-morning and if you’re gonna fight in that stupid fucking frilly robe of yours- “
Next thing Ed saw was Stede knocking over Jack’s body with the most satisfying punch he had ever seen. Followed by the most satisfying cheers he had ever heard.
“Stede! Fucking hell, mate!”
“I, um, I did that, I suppose.” Stede didn’t move his eyes from the apparent unconscious figure on the ground.
“Hell yeah you did! Fucking deserved it, the prick.” Ed said. “If you didn’t, I was about to.”
“Yep, I most certainly decided to do that. On purpose.” Stede cleared his throat, and raised his eyebrows. “With upmost forethought. That was something I completely planned to do.”
Ed clasped his hand on Stede’s shoulder, and felt him relax in his touch. He squeezed gently. Stede finally averted his eyes, and moved his gaze to Ed’s.
He tapped his foot against Jack’s; it was unresponsive. He made a face of feign remorse and frowned. “Though, I can’t say I’m entirely sorry for the poor bastard.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Ed nudged him with his elbow. “We should probably throw him overboard now.”
Stede sighed for longer than necessary before saying, “Yes, you’re probably right.”
“Also I think we should start getting this ship the hell away from here.”
Stede vehemently nodded.
---
The door felt heavy in Ed’s hands as he shut it behind him. The sound of the crew celebrating above grew faint as he quietly watched Stede, already in the room, taking his coat off, folding it cautiously, and draping it over the chair.
Ed faltered a moment, debating on whether to lock the door with the knowledge of how he wanted this conversation to go. But he needed to make sure Stede was okay. First priority, above all else. He faintly remembered a time, not too long ago, when making sure he was okay himself wasn’t even his own first priority. That seemed like an echo of a life since passed. Lots of things have been happening quickly since Stede entered his life.
“Stede? You okay, mate? I wanna, you know, make sure you’re alright. Tonight was… a lot.”
“Honestly, I’m content enough. I know he was your friend and all, but I have to admit I really did quite dislike him.” A pause. “Both of them, actually.” He scrunched his face as if he had bitten into an overly-sour fruit, and upon hearing the small snicker from Ed, turned it into a smirk. “And after conspiring with Buttons, I’m quite confident in our abilities to outrun the British navy with the time we have.”
Ed wished right then they had all the time in the world. Before today, he thought maybe they had. That incessant clock. He’d clamber onto every last movement of the arm, every tick of a sound, if that was the way he could halt time with him.
Stede took a step forward, “However, if I could, I would like to make an apology.”
“You? Why?” Ed wanted to close the space between them so badly.
Another step. “You have a history with them, after all. Izzy was your, close colleague, and Jack… He saved your life, isn’t that what you said?”
“Well, yes, but…” Ed hesitated.
Stede watched him with empathy. “And if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been mixed into all of this. I’m deeply sorry, Ed. I… I didn’t want you to have to give up so much of your life just for me.”
Ed shook his head furiously. “No, no, please don’t be sorry. I want to be here, with you. I chose this. I chose you. Don’t ever be sorry for what I choose.” He felt a flash of tears form in his eyes. “My life before you was, well, not a life I felt like living most days.” He started to taste salt on his tongue.
Ed felt as if he were being swept by current, every word undertaking him. Stede looked at him with a similar dampness in the eyes, and nodded to let him know that he was there, swimming along. Ed tried desperately to stay above water as he continued, “I was just looking for something to hold onto. I didn’t know what would make Ed happy, you know? But I met you, and now I feel like I have life back. Right now, I just want to do what makes Ed happy.”
“And what makes Ed happy?”
The rushing waters in his mind quieted just then; all movement stilled, a mist settling on the horizon. This was it. He found himself finally being able to grasp onto a branch and rest. He found something to hold onto and he was going to for as long as he could. So long as the branch would have him.
“I reckon what makes Ed happy,” Ed took a step forward, “is…”
“…you.”
Stede inhaled so visibly, so sharply Ed could see his breath get caught in his chest. It matched his own. It was nice to have a rhythm with someone else.
Heaving a weary, desperate sigh, his eyes trailed to his lips, “Stede, I really just want to kiss you right now.”
All it took was Stede’s gaze to instinctively flicker down towards Ed’s lips, and he had all the permission he needed.
Some scrounged up leftover courage and two hasty steps forward, the space between them closed up. Lips meeting, hands searching, nerves on fire, hairs standing on end. Ed felt a new kind of hunger hit his belly he never knew existed. He tried to swallow the sweet, soft sounds Stede was making like they were the air he needed to breathe. There’d never been so much oxygen; he had never felt so free to be able to just breathe fully than this moment. And yet he needed more. To be closer. How do you lessen the space between two people already so close when you only have so much time to figure it out?
He could spend all his time like this. He didn’t know how long they had been standing there, exploring each other’s mouths, with parting lips and inhaling one another’s sighs, but an eternity would prove to be too short. He needed more time. But if a pendulum’s swing could give enough momentum to break time in that moment, would you then have enough space to hold it?
Does it matter? If you have the world in front of you, and you can jump into its orbit?
When Ed and Stede part ways, they’re cradling each other’s face. They laugh. Stede wipes away a fallen tear on Ed’s cheek as he tucks a stray curl behind Stede’s ear. Whether thirty seconds or thirty years had gone by, they’ll never know.
“You make Stede happy.”