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The need to hit was unbearable. Talked over, ignored, even by the one person who should have been taking his side. Izzy had bitten his tongue until he tasted blood, and then he couldn't stand it any longer. He'd thrown the bag of loot at Ed's feet and walked off without a word.
Back to the ship, the only other place he had to go.
And he knew the dance, too; Ed would come back in a few hours and talk to him calmly, tell him that it wasn't worth it, just let it go and let the merchant yap because he always does.
Like it's Izzy's fault he has emotions. Like it's Izzy's fault, every goddamn time.
He doesn't go back to the cabin he shares with Ed and Stede, because right now, he does not want to be soothed. He wants to hurt. He wants to hurt someone else, and if that can't happen, he wants to hurt himself.
The one good thing he can say about the Revenge is that it's well-built with sturdy wood.
Ed comes back on board an hour later, limping heavily from dragging the bag full of coin over his shoulder. "Here, count it and send it over to Queen Anne, " he tells Oluwande, who had met him at the ladder.
"Yeah, no problem, captain." Olu takes the heavy sack of coin as it's handed over to him, and stands by to see if Ed needs a hand coming over the rail.
He does, but he doesn't take it, because he is worried about Izzy. "Seen Iz?"
"Not since he got back, sir." Olu knows exactly where he is; everyone on the ship does. But it's not his business and he's not going to say anything.
"Okay, thanks. You seen him leave again?"
"No, sir."
"Good. Thanks. Bugger off." Ed heaves himself over the rail and winces; his knee is going to bitch about that for days.
The knock on Izzy's cabin door almost went unheard between thuds. Stede wasn't sure what Izzy was doing in there, but it couldn't be healthy.He hadn't been seen since he got back to the ship--without Ed. "Izzy?"
Izzy almost ignored the call of his name, but he paused in his punches enough to snarl. "Fuck off, Bonnet!"
"I shall not, until I've seen you are all right," Stede said through the door. The tray of food rattled in his hands as he shifted to knock again.
"Fuck, fine, but not a fuckin' word." Izzy let him into the cabin and turned back to the wall.
Stede gasped. There was a wide smear of blood on the wall, and Stede nearly dropped the tray as he put it on the bunk. "Izzy, what--"
"Shut up or get out."
"I shall do neither." Stede grabbed Izzy by the shoulder and yanked him around. Both of Izzy's fists looked like raw meat. They were red and bloody, skin broken and hanging off the knuckle in some places. "Ridiculous question, but how did you do this to yourself?"
Izzy just looked at his blood smeared on the wall, and refused to answer.
"Yes, well, I did say ridiculous." He pushed Izzy to sit on the bed beside the tray, then moved it to the desk. "That is going to need caring for."
"I can do it myself."
"Oh, yes, you can. Tear a few strips off your shirt, hastily wrap them up, maybe splash a bit of rum over your hands before you show up back on deck, yes?" Stede crossed his arms. "I'm going to find Lucius, and have him bring proper supplies, and then I will look after you."
"Don't bother the boy." Izzy leaned back and used his booted foot to kick the bed. "There's a box under there."
Stede got onto his knees, looking for and pulling out the chest that Izzy mentioned. The lid creaked open to reveal bandages, dried herbs of some kind, a bottle of alcohol, a needle and some kind of line, and a shallow half-full pot of ointment. "Well, now, all we need is soap and water. I have both in my cabin; will you remain here until I come back with them?"
Izzy let out an explosive sigh; he was still furious, angry and hurt, but it was nice to have someone be kind to him, to take care of him. "Yeah, I'll stay."
"Lovely. The luncheon tray is for you, as you were ashore and I wasn't sure if you'd eaten." Stede disappeared out of the door, and left Izzy alone.
He checked out the tray; cold meat sandwiches and ale, and Izzy admitted he was hungry. The sandwiches were good, the last of the chickens Roach had killed and roasted, and the ale was lukewarm but still wet, and burned Izzy's parched throat. He'd finished half the first sandwich when Stede came back into the room.
"Good, you're eating!" Stede chirped. The washbasin in his hands was full, and a bar of brown oat soap was floating in the bowl. Clean towels and soft wash cloths lay folded over his arm, and Stede got on his knees beside Izzy. "Here, let me see that now."
Izzy gave his hand over to Stede, who made sure to untie Izzy's sleeve before rolling it up enough to let the whole hand rest in the basin. Murmuring softly to himself, Stede wet the washcloth and rubbed the bar enough to build up a lather, and then started to gently daub at each busted knuckle. "You should really have Roach check behind me, I wouldn't know a broken knuckle if it slapped me in the face," Stede pointed out. "But nothing feels different to me, nothing feels like it's out of place."
"Nothing's broken, I can still bend them." Izzy demonstrated, flexing his fingers under the water. Of course, it did hurt like hell, but that was nothing.
"Stop that," Stede fussed, wiping away the new blood that had seeped out when Izzy showed off. "You're going to make it worse." Slowly and carefully, Stede dabbed and scrubbed, rubbed and soaped, until the knuckles were raw but clean.
Silence fell as Stede took the bottle of rum, dampened another cloth with it, and swiped it over the open skin. Izzy hissed as the liquor stung his injured hand, but Stede blew over them quickly, helping the sting fade. "There, now. A little bit of ointment and we'll be ready to bandage them."
More silence, then, as Stede worked, and after generously slathering the ointment across his hand, he wrapped Izzy's injured knuckles in a swatch of soft white silk.
Startled, Izzy glared. "Where'd that come from?"
"Oh, I ruined one of my shirts the other week, spilled lamp oil from the desk lamp all over myself. I cut around the oily spots, I think John took them for cannon wadding, and kept the scraps for cleaning. And bandages, as it turns out, silk is very soft on wounded skin." Stede patted the top of the bandages. "Now, let me see that other hand. And would you like to talk about what brought this on?"
While Stede tended the other hand, Izzy let spill the story. How the merchant had insulted him, pissed him off, how Ed had stood by and let it happen, and how Izzy had stormed off by himself.
"I rather think Ed deserves a kick in the pants," Stede answered, after he tied the second scrap of silk around Izzy's hand. "Seems he wasn't supporting his First Mate properly."
"You're one to fuckin' talk," Izzy pointed out.
"While we may have our differences, Israel, I would hope that you know by now that I would never disrespect you outside of our family. Teasing you in front of the crew is one thing; letting someone who is not a part of the family do that to you? Ed should have slit the man's throat."
…Not what Izzy had been expecting, but he could roll with that.
"Look, when Ed comes back on board, you let me deal with him, all right?" Stede pressed gentle kisses on each bandage. "My children used to tell me that made their injuries feel better."
Izzy was not one of Stede's children, but he did feel better after being carefully tended to and validated. "Yeah, fuck off now. The urge to punch a hole through the ship has passed."
Stede gave him a lopsided grin. "I'm sure it has. Please, if you feel the need again, at least hang your pillow--or come get one of ours. I'm sure it will be much less destructive than punching the actual wall."
The destruction was rather the point, but Izzy didn't bother clarifying that to Stede. "Gonna ask Jim if I can stay in their room for awhile."
"Sounds like a great idea; let me clear this out, and I'll send them down to you right away!" Stede bustled around, picking up the tray and leaving the plate of sandwiches. "If you need me, Izzy, you know where I am."
"Sure, you can stay. There's a fuckin'... I don't know, nook? John calls it a nook. You can stay there long as you like," Jim answered, slapping Izzy on the shoulder. "Olu's got late watch, and I'm on early, so you won't disturb us."
"Thanks," Izzy said sincerely, and offered Jim some of the sandwiches. There'd been five on the plate, he'd eaten two, and there was no way he could eat three more.
Jim took two, one for themselves and one for Olu. "You need to eat, cabron. Too fuckin' skinny."
By the time Ed got back on the ship, Jim had spread the word that Izzy was to be protected and hidden. Even Stede had signed up to help, and Jim hadn't even had to threaten him. That had been a pleasant surprise.
So when Oluwande greeted Ed, he made no mention of Izzy being tucked away in their nook. Instead, he was honest--hadn't seen Izzy since he got back to the ship.
Stede flat-out lied to Ed's face. Why no, I haven't seen Izzy today. Didn't he go ashore with you? Surely you didn't lose him, Edward, he's your First Mate!
Jim was up in the crow's nest--alone, because Ed had climbed halfway up to make sure.
He'd gone to the kitchen to see if Izzy was helping Roach, and all Roach knew was that Stede had picked up a lunch tray while Izzy and Ed were ashore, and he hadn't seen anyone else.
John didn't know anything; he'd been wicking the cannons. Frenchie had been braiding rope with Swede, and they hadn't seen anything either.
Ed was starting to get a bit pissy. Lucius just smirked and said maybe Ed should consider putting Izzy on a leash and not letting him out of sight. Pete had suggested that Izzy was in the walls chasing rats.
The number of places Izzy could hide on the fucking ship was limited, and yet, Ed had checked every one of them.
When he'd checked Olu and Jim's room, Stede had opened a secret passage for Izzy to hide in.
When Ed checked the secret passages, Izzy was back in Jim and Olu's room.
The auxiliary wardrobe had nothing but clothes, the cargo hold was empty ( of course it's empty, Ed, we just sold our fucking cargo , said Izzy's voice in his head), and he was nowhere on deck.
They stayed docked for two days while the crew helped Izzy avoid talking to Ed. Blackbeard had caught on the first night, caught glimpses of Izzy's back and boots as he hurried out of sight, and was quickly losing patience.
Stede finally sat him down and explained things to him.
Your first mate was insulted, spoken rudely to, and demeaned in front of you. And instead of standing up for him, you let it happen as if you didn't actually care! Do you have any idea how that affected him, Edward? Seeing his captain play along while he's denigrated and belittled? Yes, Israel and I have our differences, but I would never dream of embarrassing him off the ship. He has a role to portray, Ed, and he must have respect for that to work for either of you. If Blackbeard's right hand can be treated like that, how does that reflect on Blackbeard himself?
But the merchant is valuable, Izzy can take a joke. We need this guy to fence our goods, or else we're stuck back on Tortuga.
Izzy can take a joke, but not when he is the butt of it. We can always find another fence; where are you going to find another Izzy who will take your bullshit and love you regardless?
Once it looked to Stede like Ed was suitably chastened--which took another couple of days--he spoke again to Izzy, and Izzy let the word out that the crew was to stop freezing Ed out, and things were to go back to normal, or whatever the fuck passed for normal on this gods-forsaken ship.
Ed pounced on him immediately after breakfast.
"No," Izzy said, before Ed could get a word out of his mouth. "No, I don't want your apology. You don't mean it, and that's okay. I just don't want to hear it. I'm not in a good mood, and I'm not in the mood for you right now. But the ship doesn't need it, and so I'm going to do what I always do, and fucking let it go. But." Izzy shook his head at Ed. "That doesn't let you off the hook. Next time you leave me out to hang like that, I'm going." Despite Ed's caught breath, Izzy plowed on. "If you won't give me the respect I've earned, then I'm going to find another ship and another captain who will. I don't want to. But I can't do this anymore. I need better. I need you to do better."
Izzy disentangled himself from Ed's grip and walked away.
Ed watched him in shock, jaw dropped because Izzy had never talked to him like that before. But he'd be better. He'd have to do better, because he couldn't lose Izzy.
End