Work Text:
It should have been an easy day at sea.
The morning had started off fairly well, or, as well as it could have given the incompetence of the crew that he was currently sailing with. Bonnet was mainly keeping to himself, looking somewhat out of place as he paced restlessly back and forth between the two sides of the ship.
The reason, for Bonnets apparent inability to sit still, was the migraine that Edward had come down with some hours earlier. The co-captain of the ship was currently sleeping off what he had so eloquently described as “the bastard mother of all headaches” in the ship’s storeroom, with orders of not to be disturbed unless the ship was quite literally on fire. It had sent the blonde into a complete tizzy; one that was truly beginning to get on his nerves.
He and Bonnet were hardly friends, after all.
True, they no longer wanted to see each other strung up by the English or dead at the bottom of the sea, but the truth of the matter was that they were only acting amicable for Edwards’s sake.
At least, that’s what Izzy had thought prior to the events of this particular afternoon.
He was making his way over to Buttons when it happened. The ship needed a series of repairs thanks to a run of bad weather they had been forced to sail through over the past few weeks, and the Scotsman was the only person on board capable enough to actually do something about it before the ship sank from disrepair. Nothing out of the ordinary should have occurred, yet of course it would be just his luck that fate would decide to test him once again.
“Izzy look out-!”
Someone shoved him brutally from behind, the flash of cerulean fabric giving away the identity of his attacker almost immediately. Why Stede had suddenly decided to throw him across the deck of the Revenge was a mystery to him, but the man’s audacity and capacity to make his blood boil had him swearing under his breath as his knees cracked against the hard floor.
“Bonnet what the fuck-"
The sound of wood colliding with something hard caught him completely off guard. He watched in awe as Bonnet collapsed to the floor with a grunt, hands instinctively coming up in an attempt to stem the blood that was now streaming down the side of his face. There, on the floor next to him, was a rather sizable portion of the ships mast, the likes of which had clearly come loose in one of the many storms that they had recently gone head to head with.
He realised with a jolt that Bonnet was currently occupying the exact space where he had been standing mere moments ago.
His captain’s lover hadn’t shoved him after all; he had pushed him out of harm’s way.
“Christ captain, you alright? Frenchie's voice questioned from behind him, clearly having witnessed the entire affair. A series of similarly concerned murmurs soon assaulted his ears as the all too small crew crowded around their fallen friend.
“Ahh…nothing too serious, I assure you!”
“You sure cap? That looks kinda bad” Lucius chimed in; brow creased into a concerned frown.
It was unheard of at sea really, to see so many people care about their captain’s wellbeing. Most pirates seized any chance they got to rise through the ranks, mutinying just for the sake of fun or to break up the monotony of sailing mostly calm waters.
But not the crew of the Revenge.
The ship wasn’t going to handle herself however, and someone needed to stop the damn thing from running aground.
Again.
“Alright you bunch of layabouts, everyone back to their posts! And someone fetch the fuckin doctor!”
Bonnet scrunched his eyes up at the tone of his voice, clearly displeased by the volume and intensity he had chosen to issue the command with.
“Izzy… Israel, do you always have to shout…?”
Of course Bonnet would take the chance to chastise him about his style of leadership whilst bleeding out across the deck of his fancy ship.
“Shut it Bonnet, I’m taking you back to the captains’ quarters”
Stede swayed slightly as he pulled him to his feet. Their journey to the cabin was slow, but Stede managed to stay mostly upright for the majority of it, only pausing once to hurl over the side of the ship. Izzy turned his nose at the sight, once again muttering under his breath before helping the man down the stairs.
It took a bit of wrangling to get Stede onto his settee once they entered the quarters, but before he knew it, Bonnet was perched comfortably against his ridiculous pillows, a fresh cloth resting against the gash running down the side of his forehead.
The bleeding seemed to be slowing down now, but head wounds were tricky, and Izzy wasn’t prepared to take any chances. God knows Ed was going to have his head when he woke up either way. He wasn’t sure how he was going to explain this one to the man who had quite literally embodied the kraken all but six months ago.
“Don’t you dare fall asleep Bonnet” he half yelled as the blonde's eyes began to droop. In a half-arsed attempt to stop the other man from drifting off, he grabbed a book from the nearest shelf, flipping it open to the first page.
“Stede. Please Izzy for the love of God, just call me Stede…”
It was clear to him now that any gentlemanly demeanors the ex-aristocrat still possessed had evaporated into thin air, leaving behind a tired and frustrated man who just wanted rid of any left between them.
Too bad that being a bastard was one of Izzy’s core qualities.
“Frenchie said you wanted to see me?”
Thank god for Roach and his immaculate sense of timing.
“Take a look at his head, I need to know if his brains are likely to start falling out…not that he had any in the first place”
It could have been a cruel remark, but he hopped that the soft edge to his tone conveyed the genuine concern hidden behind the layers of sarcasm. He didn’t want Stede to die, not really. The Gentleman Pirate had somehow managed to worm his way into his heart, like a mangy dog that he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to be rid of.
Send him to doggy heaven.
“Well, it’s not good but it’s definitely not the worst I’ve seen. He should be fine given time and plenty of rest. Don’t let him sleep for a few hours though…”
It wasn’t exactly bad news, but nonetheless, he couldn’t stop the foreign feeling of guilt from building in his chest. It was his fault that Bonnet was even here in the first place. If he had only been more careful. More observant…
“Izzy, I’m alright, I promise…”
It was almost as if Stede had read his mind, kind eyes meeting his as he reached out to rest a hand on the sleeve of his jacket.
“Now, about that book you have there…If you don’t mind reading some of it aloud, I’d be grateful for the distraction…”
He’d almost forgotten about the book resting on his lap. It was something about the native plants of America that he usually wouldn’t be the least bit interested in. It didn’t matter thought; they both needed a distraction and the history of shrubbery would have to do.
Because, despite the unconventional nature of their relationship, he supposed that’s what friends were for.