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It had been his captain’s instincts that had sent Stede Bonnet wandering in the middle of the night, pacing his newly bare ship like a ghost haunting the hull. That was what he told himself, at any rate, and certainly not the fact that things with Ed were still…fraught.
Ed hadn’t exactly welcomed him back with open arms, but now Stede was. Back. Ed had let him come back and he could work with that. It was bizarre how much emptier The Revenge seemed now; hollow, even. Stede would admit to being a bit of a magpie about the things he enjoyed–more of a bowerbird, really. It had been comforting to be surrounded by his things, and without them he felt bizarrely out of place in the place that he’d created solely to fit him.
But he wasn’t the only specter lurking about, as he learned when he followed the sound of a voice coming from what used to be his library.
Izzy Hands was propped up against one of the empty bookcases with an empty bottle sitting on the shelf next to him. He was speaking so deliberately, that it sounded like he must be reading. Could Izzy read?
“‘Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others–’”
He couldn’t be reading, Stede reminded himself, all the books were gone. And Stede had never been terribly fond of that particular book in the first place. He hadn’t had it on board. Still, he was compelled to complete the quote. It had always been a refreshing contrast to all the hellfire and brimstone nonsense.
“‘It is not self-seeking,’” Stede replied deliberately, meeting Izzy’s eyes, “‘it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.’”
“What a load of tosh,” Izzy spat, as if he hadn’t been the one reciting it. “Whoever wrote that knew fuck-all about love.”
“I’m fairly certain that it’s supposed to be aspirational,” Against his better judgment, Stede took a few steps closer to Izzy. If the first mate had gone off his rocker, Stede really ought to stay abreast of the situation. “Did you just come in here to pontificate alongside the memory of my books?” Stede was never going to let that go. As far as he was concerned, he was entirely justified on that point. Those books had been his only friends for far too many years, a lifetime’s collection of worlds and words unceremoniously dumped into the sea. He’d rather have Ed, of course, a million times over he’d rather have Ed, but the loss still stung.
“Aren’t I allowed in here? Thought it was open to everyone.” There was an odd reedy quality to Izzy’s voice that wasn’t usually there, a certain degree of carelessness that only came with drink. The first mate wasn’t exactly a large man, pirate or no. And there was no telling how full the bottle had been when he’d started.
“Just checking that you’re not planning on doing something else that you’ll regret, Izzy. You seem to be in quite a state.”
“Real fucking saint, aren’t you now?” Izzy sneered. “Perfect fucking Stede Bonnet, with his fancy clothes and his fancy hair, mercifully come back to save us all from ourselves. Glory, Hallelujah. Praise fucking be.” He waved his hands vaguely for emphasis.
What the hell had gotten into him? This was a new low even for Izzy. The vulnerability of it was especially embarrassing to Stede, somehow. Something that he ought not to be seeing and yet, here he remained.
“For fuck’s sake, pull yourself together, man,” Stede hissed. “Imagine if Ed saw you like this.”
Apparently those were the unmagic words, because much to Stede’s chagrin, Izzy started to wail.
Tears welled up in his eyes and his face started to color, all while devastatingly sad noises issued from him. All Stede could do was watch him helplessly, frozen to the spot in horror and distress.
If they were crocodile tears, they were awfully convincing. Before long, Izzy’s cheeks were red and wet, his chest heaving so hard that Stede thought he would wretch. Izzy Hands, the notorious terror of the Caribbean, was stupid drunk and freely weeping his eyes out in front of Stede, of all people.
“Did you know, Bonnet,” Izzy sobbed, “in all your infinite fucking wisdom, that sometimes love makes you worse ? You can be mean with love, bitter, cruel with it, even…Love hurts , is what it fucking does.”
“It certainly seems like you’re hurting right now,” Stede adopted the determinedly neutral tone that he reserved when he needed to talk it through . “Perhaps I could escort you back to your quarters? Sleep might help.”
“How very gentlemanly of you. You think I’m pathetic, don’t you?” Izzy sniffed as he dragged his shirt sleeve across his face. “You fucking…pity me?”
“I’m concerned about you,” Stede surprised himself with the admission when he realized that it was true.
“It’ll happen to you too,” Izzy warned, voice husky with conspiracy and slurry with liquor. Stede felt his nose scrunch instinctively to try and ward off the pungent assault of the other man’s breath. “One day you won’t be novel anymore or interesting or useful ”—Izzy seemed to linger with especial bitterness on that last one—“He’ll tire of you. It’s what he does. Enjoy all this,” he gestured clumsily, “while it lasts.”
“Well, that’s not ominous at all,” Stede quipped in response, doing his best to ignore the sick squirmy feeling that those words had spawned in his stomach.
“You think this is funny, Bonnet?” Izzy grabbed Stede by his lapels and pulled him close before Stede had the presence of mind to resist him. “Just a big fuckin’ joke to you, aren’t I?”
With tears drying on his face and his voice cracking like cheap glass, nothing about Izzy Hands came off to Stede as particularly funny at the moment. The man was a mess and he was erratic and Stede wanted very much not to make it worse.
“No, you’re not a joke…that was insensitive of me, I suppose. You’re having a hard time, clearly, and I’m…” What was he trying to do? Why didn’t he just leave ? This really wasn’t his business… but something about the nature of Izzy’s distress, coupled with the rarity of him being so vulnerable made Stede reluctant to leave him alone. “I’m trying not to make it worse. Clearly, I’m not doing a very good job.”
“That’s kind of you,” Izzy replied acidly. He had an odd look in his eyes as he thumbed Stede’s collar. “Perfect fucking Stede Bonnet, here to save the day…”
Suddenly Izzy’s mouth was on his, whiskers rough against Stede’s shaved skin and the taste of his tears on Stede’s lips. Stede was even more alarmed when he realized that he was kissing Izzy back.
He felt a pleasant flutter in his stomach that quickly turned to bile. No. No .
“Izzy! Fuck! ” Stede sputtered as he pulled away, firmly pushing Izzy back, two hands on his chest. “What in the fuck was that about?”
Izzy looked frightened, his beady eyes darting about the room. Little rat’s looking to run away , Stede thought, taking a special delight in being unkind. He’ll probably go scampering off to Ed and try to sow some more unpleasantness between us. It didn’t matter how unlikely that explanation was, it was the only one that Stede could accept at the moment. Because the alternative was...
“Oh, that was bad . Badbadbad… ” Izzy was babbling and his expression was fearful; panicked desperation flooded out of the other man and before he could stop himself, Stede put a hand over Izzy’s mouth in order to silence him.
“Not bad.” Stede said, before he could help himself. Why was he lying? Just to spare Izzy, of all people? Are you lying, though? The question lingered at the back of his mind. He lowered his hand.
“ Not bad?” Izzy asked. His eyes were wide and guileless and God help him, Stede couldn’t see any malice in them.
“No, not bad,” Stede had to admit, both to Izzy and himself. “Don’t do it again, you understand?” His voice was firm and decisive, a level of conviction that he didn’t feel.
“Yeah, of course,” Izzy nodded, “Of course I won’t.”
Stede’s not sure how Izzy has managed it, but he looks absolutely fragile . This nasty, wrath-filled, rat-terrier of a man looks like he could go to pieces at any moment and in a surge of what could only be temporary insanity( “fuckin’ lunatic”, Ed’s voice echoed fondly in his ears), all Stede wants to do is comfort him.
“Sit down,” The commanding tone from moments ago had evaporated, and Izzy looked at him with a degree of confusion that was almost insulting. “You should sit down...I don’t think you should be standing. Here, I’ll sit down too.” Now Stede is babbling. Fuck.
Amazingly, in what must have been the biggest testament to the absolute fragility of Izzy’s state so far, Izzy sat down alongside him. He leaned against Stede’s side gently, testing the waters.
Stede didn’t push him away.
It’s oddly pleasant, Izzy’s body heat against him. He hadn’t often had the sort of camaraderie with other men that allowed for such casual touch. Not without the threat of some awful prank being the intention, anyway.
Izzy wanting to lean on him...is not a terrible thought.
He tried not to think about it too much.
He shouldn’t feel bad for Izzy, for God’s sake! Izzy caused this whole thing, this whole… spiral ...Of Ed’s–
That was only possible because you left
–the fact that he was even still allowed to be here–
Probably the main reason that Ed’s still alive
Why did someone so infuriating even exist?
And that’s exactly what he thinks of you
“I’ve never seen you drunk before,” Stede said, because it was true and he had to say something .
“I contain multitudes,” Izzy replied in such a bone-dry tone of voice that it could only be understood as a joke.
There was certainly no debating that.
“You’re…upset about me and Ed, I take it?” That much was obvious, but sometimes it better served him to play the idiot when he had the option. “I might be his paramour but you’re his...his…what is it exactly that the two of you are ?” That was perhaps a question that he ought to have asked a long time ago, but in his defense, he was pretty new to this whole love thing.
“I’m his… his … his ...fuck if I know. His first mate until I’m not anymore. But he’s everything to me. Always has been. Always gave him whatever he needed. My sword, my service, my fuckin’ toe …And you, had to give him you. My fuckin’ replacement. And now he’s yours. Fuckin’ figures.”
“I’m not your replacement,” Stede said before he could help himself. Bizarrely, he decided to lean into it. “I’m certainly not trying to be his first mate. I’m his co-captain. I’m your captain.” He likes the way that those words sit on his tongue perhaps more than he should.
“Makes you feel like a big man, does it? Telling me that?” Izzy’s signature rasp was turning into more of a purr and he let his head tilt against Stede’s shoulder.
“One of us has to be,” he replied coolly, referring to Izzy’s height as much as his mental state. Still, he didn’t push Izzy away, he couldn’t make himself do it. The other man seemed harmless at the moment. And Stede was harmless to Izzy too, on that point he was adamant. This…curiosity that the other man seemed to have stirred up in him was not to be explored now. It would be a violation.
Izzy’s head rested heavier on Stede, as if his will to hold himself upright was slowly draining out of him.
“People like you always get everything that they want,” Izzy muttered, “but nobody wants me .”
“I’m still here, you realize? I think that should tell you something.”
“But you don’t want… ?”
Izzy seemed so thoroughly baffled by the idea of being wanted without being taken and the realization made Stede ache inside.
“I want to help you feel better. That’s what I want from you right now.” He wrapped his arms around Izzy’s torso and held him tightly, going silent while he did. The other man reeked of rotgut and stress-sweat, but Stede found that he didn’t mind it.
Izzy was quiet too, save for the ragged rhythm of his breathing and his heart pounding against Stede’s chest. He relaxed into Stede as much as Izzy was apparently capable of relaxing at all, tension still evident in every line of his body. Stede chanced rubbing his back lightly, which seemed to put Izzy further at ease.
How long they stayed like that, Stede didn’t know. He was starting to think that he had finally calmed the first mate down when Izzy spoke again, his voice small and distant.
“I should have gone over the side with the rest of the dross. Hard to imagine now what I was so intent on staying alive for. There’s nothing left inside me.”
“Fucking hell, Izzy,” Stede yelped in alarm. Izzy flinched. “I’m sorry,” Stede continued, feeling a twinge of guilt, “But that’s a hell of a thing to say to the man tenderly holding you on the floor.”
“‘Tenderly’?” Izzy asked, lips quivering in a ghost of a smirk. “This is the stiffest fucking hug…”
“If it’s not up to your standards–” Stede began in a parody of his usual haughty tone.
“Don’t let go.”
And so Stede didn’t. He kept Izzy close to his chest until it was clear that the other man was nodding off, when he discretely managed to coax Izzy to rest his head in his lap instead. Izzy’s weight was oddly pleasant, grounding even, and Stede found himself grateful for it.
Stede wondered idly what Ed might think if he found him practically cuddling with his first mate like this. He could deal with that, he decided, if it came to that. Izzy needed something right now. Someone . And even if all Stede could offer was his presence, he was willing to do that. The absolute least he could do was be here.
Be here . That was a start. He couldn’t fix anything if he wasn’t here…he’d already got the first step out of the way. He had a long road ahead of him; rebuilding Ed’s trust, rebuilding the splintered crew.
He sighed as he cast his eyes around, looking for something to focus on besides his own introspection, and settled on the empty shelves.
Something that had been full and now was vacant, empty space where something used to be.
Maybe it could be again. Could be full again. Could be again. He just needed time to build it back up.
To fill it back in with something new.
But for now, he was here, and that was a start.
He stroked Izzy’s hair gently, doing his best to convince himself that it was bringing the other man some sort of comfort. It was a bit funny, now that he really thought about it. His love for Ed had driven him away, Izzy’s had driven him to stay
He came back. Izzy never left.
And yet, here they were, both on the floor. Brought to their knees or rather, their arses, for the love of Edward Teach and the person that he loves( loved once ? Loves still ? ). Forever casting the other as the interloper in something sacred and profane and yet profanely sacred.
Was it only Ed’s irresistible charms that had driven them both mad? Was it some mystical, magical property of love itself? Stede simply refused to believe that love was as hopeless and dire as Izzy had cast it. Izzy and Ed had hurt each other, both recently and over the tenure of their relationship, that much was clear. But Stede had hurt Ed too, in the short span of their whirlwind romance. And still Ed had let him return. That had to be worth something . Stede would make sure of it. He had a second chance and he wasn’t about to waste it.
Yes, Stede Bonnet was quite new to this whole love thing, he certainly wouldn’t deny that. But he’d always been a quick study.