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“You can’t see him,” Bonnet says.
“Like hell I can’t,” Izzy snarls, pressing into his space. Bonnet doesn’t back down, just stands there in front of the door to the captains’ cabin with his arms folded. The nerve on him, unbelievable at the best of times, is doubly aggravating under the circumstances. “He fucking collapsed, Bonnet, how do I know he’s alive in there?”
Izzy, who’d been off coordinating with the Queen Anne all morning, had heard the story second-hand from Spriggs: one moment Ed was talking to Frenchie, cheery and to all appearances sober, and the next he’d crumpled to the deck like a puppet with its strings cut. According to Spriggs, Bonnet had proceeded to scoop Edward into his arms and whisk him away to the captains’ quarters. Izzy suspects exaggeration.
Now, as self-appointed guard, Bonnet puffs himself up, getting ready to argue. He’s red-faced, seething. There's an odd, panicked charge to the air, and none of it makes a lick of sense.
“Last time he got hurt, you let me in,” Izzy says. “What’s different?”
“Nothing!” Stede says, shrill. And then—
“Is that Iz? I want Iz.”
It’s muffled through the door: Ed’s voice. But there’s something off about it. He sounds soft, dazed.
“Is he high?” Izzy demands.
“No! Well, maybe. I’m not sure.”
“How can you not be—”
“He drank something at the apothecary earlier!” Bonnet says. “A free sample, the proprietor said. And then he was fine until we got back to the ship. But now—”
“I’ve missed him lately,” Ed says, right on the other side of the door.
“He’s not himself,” Bonnet says.
“Clearly,” Izzy says. “Let me see him.”
“He doesn’t want to be saying these things.”
“I know that,” Izzy snarls. “Fucking open the door, Bonnet, or I’ll reopen that scar you’re so proud of.”
Bonnet splutters something posh and offended; his patience decimated, Izzy shoulders his way past and into the captains’ cabin. Inside, Ed is standing in the middle of the room as though waiting. He smiles at the sight of Izzy, the way he hasn’t in years, and Izzy feels his entire body freeze.
Bonnet is hot on his heels, bustling inside and saying, “I thought I told you to stay in bed,” without noticing the way the world’s shifted on its axis, because Ed smiling like that is nothing special for him.
“Izzy,” Edward says.
“Boss,” Izzy croaks.
“Were you worried about me?”
Izzy glances sidelong at Bonnet. “I was concerned," he says. "Can’t have the ship’s captain out of commission.”
“The ship has two captains,” Stede snaps.
Ed sighs, his smile dimming. “Wish you two wouldn’t fight all the time. Feels like it shouldn’t be so hard for you to get along. M’favourite people. Feels like you should—you know. Like each other.”
“You see what I mean,” Bonnet says.
“Yeah,” Izzy says, his voice like a shipwreck.
“You’re upset,” Ed says. “What did I do this time?”
“Nothing.”
“No, I—” Edward frowns. “I’m always getting it wrong. I didn’t used to. Used to make you happy, I think. And now you’re all—”
Izzy wishes he’d listened to Bonnet. “That’s not your fault,” he says.
“No, it is.”
Unable to say anything in response, Izzy finds himself looking to Bonnet again, this time with desperation. “Why is he saying this?”
“Interesting question,” Ed replies, while Bonnet frowns unhelpfully. “The potion at the apothecary didn’t taste like much—not drink or poppy. I don’t feel drunk. I feel lighter. Better.”
“You should get some rest,” murmurs Bonnet.
“He’s right,” Izzy says. He can’t stand here and listen to more of this.
“So you two can agree on something,” Ed responds. “That’s nice, at least.”
“Then listen to us,” Izzy says, feeling frantic. He’s overheated and shaky, unsteady on his feet. “Lie down. Try and sleep. I’ll come back when this—whatever it is—wears off.”
“I think it’s a truth potion,” Ed says.
“What?” Bonnet says.
Ed starts moving, back and forth, Bonnet’s robe flowing behind him. “Keep thinking about something that woman said to me. She told me I’ve been hiding all my life, only showing people parts of myself. Keeping everyone at a distance. And I told her she was full of shit, obviously, but then she kept being all weird and cryptic and so I drank the damn potion just to shut her up.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s a truth potion,” Bonnet says faintly.
“Gotta tell you, man, it’s like a weight’s been lifted. Like I finally don’t care if you know who I really am. It’s freeing.”
“It’s not real,” Izzy croaks. Ed’s gaze snaps back over to him, a crease appearing between his eyebrows.
“What makes you so sure?”
“There are drugs that have this effect,” Izzy says. “This—this gaiety, the loss of your senses. It’ll wear off. You’ll only feel embarrassed if you keep saying this shit, when it’s no truer than the slobberings of a drunkard.”
“In vino veritas,” Bonnet murmurs.
“Iz,” Edward says, coming closer, “are you scared?”
“No,” Izzy says.
“I won’t say anything to hurt you,” Ed says. “It’s not like that. I’m still in control, it’s just—fuck, why did I ever think this was so hard? To tell you who I really am. How I really feel.”
Izzy presses his lips together.
“I’ve missed you so much, man. Not even just these last few months. It’s been years, hasn’t it, since things were good?”
“I have to go,” Izzy says.
“No,” Ed says, grabbing Izzy by the elbow. “Don’t make me order you to stay. Fuck, man. It feels like you never listen to me unless I’m making you.”
“Get some sleep,” Izzy says. “Maybe you’ll still want to talk to me tomorrow.”
But Ed’s shaking his head before he even finishes the sentence. “You don’t believe that.”
“No.” Izzy gulps in a breath. “No, I don’t believe that you’d go from barely speaking a word to me unless Bonnet’s approved it first to—whatever this is. This isn’t what you want, Edward. The real you, that’s the man who sees me coming and starts walking in the other direction. That’s the man who’s fobbed me off onto a captain I never wanted to serve, because my presence is too inconvenient—”
“I did all that because I felt guilty,” Edward says. He doesn’t raise his voice, but it stops Izzy in his tracks all the same. “I feel so guilty about what I've done to you. This life, the life I’m choosing, couldn’t be further from what you want. And I'm too selfish to let you leave. I have these fucking nightmares about you leaving. But I also can’t give you a reason to stay.”
“I never needed a reason to stay,” Izzy responds hollowly.
A smile spreads slowly over Ed’s face. “Yeah, it’s just that famous Izzy Hands kindness keeping you here.”
Izzy scowls. “What do you want me to say?”
“I’m telling the truth, here, Iz. You could try returning the favour.”
“Get me some of that potion, then,” Izzy retorts, his skin burning. “It’s not happening otherwise.”
“Yeah. I know.” Edward finally starts towards the bed. Just before he reaches it, he turns and says, “I want you to stay. And I want things to get better.”
Freed from the intensity of his close proximity, Izzy says, “Me too.”
Ed sits down. He tucks his hair behind his ear: an oddly shy gesture, especially when he’s sounded so confident the whole time.
“Before this wears off,” he says, “sorry, Iz, but you’ve got to know I love you.”
The only thing that keeps Izzy standing is the knowledge that Bonnet is there: that he’d see him fall. He gasps, a reaction that feels so inadequate as to be laughable.
Ed keeps going, horribly, wonderfully, “I won’t blame you for not believing me. In your shoes, I’d tell me to piss off. And, yeah, without the potion I never would’ve told you. Would’ve gone to my grave letting you think you didn’t mean anything to me. That’s just the sort of bastard I am.”
“Why?” And Izzy’s surprised to hear it coming out of Bonnet’s mouth, not his own. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“It was easier,” Ed replies. “I love you both. You two hate each other.”
“Well,” Bonnet says, “I certainly don’t know what you see in him—”
“The feeling is mutual,” Izzy manages, though he sounds faint beyond the buzzing in his own ears.
“—but it seems like something we should have talked about, at least.”
“And you didn’t tell me,” Izzy adds, “before. When we still had a chance.”
“I didn’t,” Ed says. “Didn’t even tell Stede I loved him until after I’d tried to kill him a few times. Just always felt like—it was a lot of power to give someone, telling them you loved them. They’d know they could hurt you.”
“We hurt each other plenty,” Izzy says.
“We did.” Ed looks up at him, his eyes huge. Izzy almost wishes they were the endless fathomless black of someone given over to poppy—but they’re not. Whatever happened in that apothecary, it’s Edward, only Edward, who asks, “Do you love me too?”
Izzy lowers his chin. He swallows, hard, and then raises it again. A nod.
Edward beams.
“Doesn’t fix anything,” Izzy says. “We’re still—this’ll wear off. You’ll regret telling me. You’ll throw me off the fucking ship to keep Bonnet happy. Again.”
“No, I won’t,” Ed promises.
“Things won’t be the same in the morning.”
“No, they won’t.” Edward’s still smiling. “Isn’t it exciting?”