Archive of Our Own

They say you can see a Kraken coming from a hundred miles away, once it wants you to see it at least. The watchmen will see flashes of tentacles, movement from the corner of their eyes, and the crawling sensation of being watched on the back of their neck.

No one can outrun a Kraken, and only a fool tries. The foolish among the fools go for the dinghies, but the smart ones know better than to make their friends watch them be thrown into the waves, or torn limb from limb.

The smart ones drink til they’re sick, or find the arms of their lover to crawl into, or whisper one last prayer because sometimes the sea takes pity on a man. The smartest ones, or so Izzy always thought, put a bullet between their eyes before the creature has any hope of reaching them.

Few men can say, truthfully at least, they’ve seen a Kraken. Izzy had met just one whom he’d really believed, an old man sitting on a dock in Nassau, who spent his days staring out at the sea.

He didn’t tell the stories the liars did, about the tentacles and the way the ship had cracked and splintered and shattered. He told the stories of the gentle waves that cradled his little board, coaxing him to shore just a few short miles away from a safe harbor. Of the way the sun had hung low in the sky.

It was strange, he said, and Izzy agreed, the things you remembered when something like that happened. Izzy had always wondered if he watched the sea in case of the Kraken or in the hopes of seeing it again. 

For a long time, Izzy saw the Kraken every day. He doubts anyone has ever seen it as much, the swelling of danger in the corner of his vision, the constant, overwhelming sensation deep in his belly that whispers fear. Fear. Fear. 

Since Stede Bonnet’s return, he has seen the Kraken only for split-second moments, before something in Edward shoves it back down under the waves. It should be a relief, Edward clearly finds it one, to think the Kraken is dead. Bonnet, who Izzy doesn’t think ever truly saw the Kraken, celebrates it. Edward, more quietly, smiles about it.

Izzy has never, not for a single moment, believed it. He’s been with Edward for far too long to think that this will last. Edward is happy now, and the Kraken sleeps. What happens, though, when a raid goes wrong? Or when the wind dies, or when the supplies run low? Izzy knew too well what would end up happening. It was his job to be there to take it when it happened.

Stede Bonnet will never see the Kraken. Izzy is well aware of that fact. Bonnet, to Edward, clearly deserved a level of softness that Izzy could never even have begun to find the words to ask for, much less to think he deserved, and that was fine. That was how it was, and Izzy was…if not happy, at least comfortable with that fact. Had at least accepted it. 

Right now, he rather wished he could have the Kraken, not Edward, as he tunes back into the conversation at hand. “Look, Iz.” Ed is saying. “Stede wants to see how the supply purchasing goes, he was never involved in it before, and I’m not really…well, you know how this port went last time, mate. I can’t be seen here, not safely.”

Izzy thinks of millimeters between skin and bullet, of the way his knees had hit the gravel as he’d all but thrown Ed to the ground, and concludes that Edward is generally right. Blackbeard is wanted here, to a degree he isn’t in most towns they go to, and while Izzy can usually slip under the radar Edward has never been good at that. 

On the other hand, Izzy knows he can’t argue with Edward right now, and Edward knows it, too. Despite being assured that his job was securely still his, once Bonnet and Edward had settled back down, he knew that pushing too far, pushing at all, would mean being removed. Would mean losing Edward, the only thing he’d ever cared about. He’d sooner die than ever, ever risk that again.

That’s how he finds himself walking into the port. He considers it a successful entry, which only really means that they aren’t arrested on sight, his second ‘Captain’ at his side. The worst part of this, worse than the stares or having to listen to Stede, was that this was usually his favorite chore. Getting to fight with the merchants, being certain they had all the supplies they needed, and the security that came with that, was a relief. 

He made some of that clear to Bonnet as they walked towards the market. “I don’t give a fuck how rich you are.” He says. “Money doesn’t last out here, not really; that’s why we negotiate. People know me here, so it’s not as bloody as it used to be, but I still need to fucking do my job. You need to let me do my job Bonnet”

He’s surprised when Stede nods, as if in…agreement, though that surprise is tampered when Bonnet says “Well, alright then! I look forward to seeing your work. I’ve never had to do much negotiating, that’s very piratey isn’t it?” There’s not much to say to that, so he doesn’t, darting into the first shop.

They’re halfway to the man whom Izzy is hoping to purchase rope from when he pauses halfway down the street and catches the hand of an urchin half wrist-deep in his pocket. “Don’t try that trick here, lad,” he murmurs, sliding two coins into the boy’s hand. “Next fucker will take your wrist off.” He can feel Stede’s eyes on him, so he gets moving again before the man can comment, but he watches long enough to see the boy slide away into the alley. 

He hates how everyone looks at him; these are merchants who deal exclusively with pirates, and yet they still look at him like Spriggs does, like he’s a particularly pathetic dog whose owner has gone out and gotten a new puppy. It shouldn’t hurt, and he insists to himself that it doesn’t; he’s lucky that Edward has kept him at all.

For Edward, he can be second best. He can listen to the scoffs and the jeers and the insults, can even ignore the way Bonnet attempts to undermine him and wander off and try to make shitty deals and generally make his life more difficult. 

He can even, for Edward, ignore all the snide remarks Bonnet makes about his competency. Usually, Izzy just laughs when people act like challenging his competency is a reasonable idea; he’s the best fucking swordsman and the best fucking first mate in the fucking world, and both he and everyone else knows it.

Well, everyone but Stede Bonnet which, really, he thinks is due to Bonnet’s complete lack of understanding about how his ship, or any ship, worked. Bonnet still looked at the way Izzy functioned, the way he ordered the crew or the way he fought, and saw some sort of untamed barbarian. He saw a monster.

Izzy knew he was a monster, was the thing. Not a Kraken sort of monster, no, because he wouldn’t be alive if he was the kind of monster you saw coming. He was the thing in the corner of your vision that you don’t see when you turn your head, not till there’s a sword pressed to your neck.

He didn’t care if Bonnet approved. He didn’t care what Bonnet thought he was. His skills had kept them all, even his lesser captain, alive. Surely that was enough. Surely that was all anyone could reasonably ask of him.

Well. Not that Izzy’s life had been reasonable for a while.

Now, as he shook himself from such thoughts, he glanced around and realized a minor incident had occurred; he had no idea where the fuck Stede Bonnet was. His feet had, as he’d trained them well, been headed straight for the next merchant but at some point when he was caught up in his head, he hadn’t seen Bonnet slipping away again . Fuck. 

If anything happened to him…well. A pang of phantom pain ran up his foot as a reminder of exactly what Edward was likely to do if Izzy came back without his… whatever the fuck they were, now. Izzy didn’t want to know, not really. He got up onto a nearby box, to make it easier to see over the crowds, and hunted frantically for a mop of golden hair and far too absurdly colored clothing.

He spotted a flash of color and slid through the crowd towards it, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword; sure, he didn’t actually think that Bonnet had gotten into danger, it was more likely he’d seen an interesting-looking flower or something, but it was never a good idea to take risks with your Captain’s health. That was first mate lesson one.

That was why he had absolutely no excuse when, just as he turned the corner into the side street that he’d seen Stede in, he was unprepared for something heavy to connect with his head and knock him out in a single blow, his limp body striking the stones with a dull thud. Stede, currently on his knees getting hogtied by two very frightening pirates, could only scream as his first mate hit the ground.

They drew straws, in the end, for who had to tell Edward that Izzy and Stede hadn’t come back yet. Despite how much the crew might not enjoy Izzy’s company, they at least sort of understood that the little man was doing his best, and that they weren’t exactly the best crew in the world, so in most of their opinions they’d reached at least a place of vague mutual respect even if none of them liked him, and vice versa.

But this…this wasn’t like Izzy. It was like Stede, who would’ve found a bookstore and then completely forgotten that he had other things to do, but it wasn’t like Izzy. Izzy was precise, understood the point of being punctual, and stuck to it religiously. If the schedule said he was on watch at 7:00, he was there at 6:59. None of them had ever seen him be late for anything.

He was supposed to be on watch two hours ago, and none of them had seen him since he’d led Stede off the ship at least ten hours earlier. The crew glanced among themselves, as someone asked “So…who’s gonna tell the captain.” 

Almost in unison, they all turned to look at where Izzy would’ve normally been, by the mast, before pausing and realizing the issue with that plan as Lucius gave a muffled “Oh, fucking hell.” 

 In the end, even though Jim drew the short straw, Lucius, Ivan, and Fang were the ones who made their way down into the Captain’s quarters while Oluwande, Frenchie, Wee John, and Jim went into town to try and either find their captain and first mate or figure out what the fuck had happened.

“Uh…Captain?” Lucius’ knuckles rapped against the door and Edward gave a slurred “What?” It was clear, immediately, that he was both very aware that his partner and best friend/first mate were late and that he was not taking it especially well. Fang, the bravest of them, nudged the door open with his foot and peeked into the room.

Ed was sitting on the bed, staring at his hands blankly. There was a bottle of rum resting on a blanket at his side, already half-empty, but all three could only stare at him as he said a little desperately “Do you think they left?” 

Lucius gave a slightly incredulous sound, and all three of the others turned to look at him. “Seriously? Stede is sickeningly in love with you even after you two literally tried to kill each other when he came back, why would he leave now? And Izzy doesn’t know how to leave, I don’t think he could if he wanted to!”

That in itself was, in Lucius’ opinion, very unhealthy but it was true. Everyone on the crew could see the depth of Izzy’s devotion, even if Ed himself always seemed frustratingly blind to it, and they knew that Izzy would let Ed literally murder him, cut off the rest of his toes, or do something else dreadful to him, before he left.

Izzy wouldn’t leave Edward. Izzy couldn’t leave Edward, no matter how many ways Edward tried to push him away because Izzy loved him. Somehow, though, Edward still didn’t understand how much Izzy loved him. Or that Izzy loved him at all. Lucius had been trying to drop not-at-all subtle hints, a process which had made no progress thus far.

Edward had relaxed slightly at Lucius’ words, glancing at Fang and Ivan who both nodded supportively. “Yeah, boss,” Fang agreed. “Boss wouldn’ fuckin’ leave ya. Jim an’ Olu took a couple of guys into town to find ‘em, figure out what happened, yeah?” Ed paled, slightly, as he finally seemed to realize why they were here.

They weren’t here to tell him that Izzy or Stede had left, and now Lucius realized they weren’t even really here about the fact those two weren’t back yet because of course Ed knew that already. They were here because Fang and Ivan were worried and clearly Ed was, too, and that…well. That meant that there was a very good cause to be worried.

It wasn’t good news when Jim and Olu returned an hour later. They had beaten the knowledge out of a few younger guys, smart enough to not want Blackbeard's crew to kill them before they even properly got their career started, and the story they told of people being taken and bounties being promised had even Jim looking disturbed. 

Ed, though, had just hardened, something dark and dangerous on his face. He was growling, low and daring, and Fang was the one who took enough charge to step forward. “Cap’n,” he murmurs. “We’re gonna go get 'em back, yeah?” 

Edward nods, abruptly stomping past them and up to the deck. “Fang, Ivan, you got two fuckin’ hours to get whatever supplies we need and I don’t give a fuck how much we pay. Lucius, round up anyone else who isn’t back yet, but if anyone is late we’re leaving their ass and they can wait till we’re back, with Stede and Iz.” 

He holds control of himself just long enough to see them run off, just long enough to retreat to his cabin, before he collapses into Stede’s little window bed sobbing like his heart has been physically torn from his chest. It had been bad enough when Stede had left and it had shattered him, but at least he still had Iz, who had tried so hard and then Ed had failed him so fucking badly and Izzy had still kept trying and now…

Now he might never get the chance to thank him, to beg him for forgiveness, to tell him how so, so very sorry he is. He wants that, suddenly, more fiercely than he ever has before. Wants to hold Izzy in his arms and never let him go in a way that, even when he was better about acknowledging he loved Izzy in his own head, he rarely felt.

And Stede…Stede, who had fought so hard to come back and when he had, had taken one look at Izzy and seen the soft, damaged corners he tried so hard to hide and even if Izzy didn’t realize it, Stede was trying so hard for them to get along at least a little, for Ed’s sake. Ed loved him all the more for it and…and Stede wasn’t equipped for this, not even a little.

Izzy had been tortured before, of course he had. Ed had, too, and they had damn near matching scars to prove it. But Stede was soft in a way neither of them had ever been allowed to be and Ed was fucking terrified that Stede wouldn’t survive it.

There had been a rumor, once, that Izzy was an angel of death. That was nonsense, of course, but… “Please, Iz.” He begged. Ed had never been one for gods, or religion, or angels. He’d never needed to believe in them. He’d always had Izzy to believe in. That would have to be enough. It always had been before. Maybe...maybe. “Please, Iz. Look after him, for me. Please .” 

Izzy woke up to pain. Everything hurts, a burning ache in his chest that means a kick, probably, and he’s not sure he’s gonna be able to move his left hand at the moment. His head is pounding something awful, but his vision is clear when he slides his eyes open so he probably doesn’t have a concussion.

His head is resting on something soft, which is nice till he tilts his head and finds that it’s Stede Bonnet’s fucking leg, which has him yanking himself away as fast as he can. “The fuck?” he grumbles, finally taking in the cell.

It’s tiny; there’s virtually no way he and Bonnet won’t be touching in some way, and filthy. Bonnet is awake but he looks…distressed, which Izzy genuinely thinks is very reasonable right now unlike when he gets distressed by, like, a dead bird or something. 

“Oh, Israel, thank goodness. I was starting to get worried.” Izzy ignored that, because there was No chance Bonnet had gotten even the slightest bit worried about him and asked “The fuck happened?”

“Well, I don’t really remember how we got here, but when they were dragging us down here, I was awake already you see, you woke up and uh, well, I don’t think you really knew what was happening but you seemed very annoyed. You threw one fellow off the ship, as I remember, and broke the arm of a second before they knocked you out again.”

He sounded impressed, and Izzy flushed slightly; on the Queen Anne, his skill had been so known, so expected from him that he hadn’t really gotten praise like this since he and Ed were learning to fight. He couldn’t help but be surprised at how good it felt to have his skills acknowledged even if it was in this situation.

He stood, not that it mattered much given the absolutely tiny space he was dealing with. They were clearly on a ship, and the tiny brig had both a lock on the door and a chain around it, with two more locks. He almost respected that these people clearly were prepared to hold escape artists. 

On the other hand, without some serious luck, he wasn’t getting That open. Ed had always been the one to pull off crazy escape attempts when he and Izzy had been caught a few times, when they were still young and eager, not Izzy. Izzy was the fighter, and the better lockpick, but Ed was the one who got them the lockpicks.

He doesn’t expect that’s something Bonnet is going to be able to do successfully, which means they aren’t getting out, which means he knows what he has to do. Even if he really, very much doesn’t want to.

“Bonnet. For once in your life fucking listen please,” he says, interrupting whatever Stede had been saying about ‘Edward will find us, of course.’ He did believe that Edward would find them, or at least find Bonnet which sort of inadvertently meant that he’d find Izzy too. But...he sort of doubted they’d be found any time soon. 

“When they come back, and it’s when Bonnet, you will be silent. You will sit there.” He points at the corner that’s slightly further from the door. “You will not interfere. You will not say a fucking word, do you understand me?” 

Stede opened his mouth to say how ridiculous that was, but fell silent when heavy boots trod up to the door and a fucking mountain of a man opened it. Izzy gave Stede one last look that said…that said listen and obey but also a touch of panic and something that seemed like maybe it might be a quiet, desperate please .

Then it was gone and First Mate Hands turned back to the door, a vicious snarl on his face. “Oh good.” He spit at the man’s feet, before raising his head to look him dead in the eyes. “Been fuckin’ bored down here, waiting for one of you to show the fuck up.” 

The man laughed, a low, cruel sound, grabbed Izzy by the throat, and hauled him out of the little cell, hurrying to close the door so there isn’t a risk of Stede somehow making a break for it. “Don’t worry.” the man mocked. “We’ll bring him back in mostly one piece.” 

And then…and then Stede was alone. He waited till the steps faded, before he let himself hide his face in his hands and tremble. His instincts burned in his chest; he needed to say something, he was a captain and he shouldn’t let his First Mate get hurt for him but he couldn’t get the way Izzy had looked at him out of his head.

It was the first, and Stede quietly suspected only, time that he’d seen Izzy look at him like that, but well…it wasn’t the first time he’d seen that look on Izzy’s face. That quiet resignation combined with an overwhelming look of loyalty, of devotion. 

He’d have to talk to Izzy about this, of course; he was not going to let Izzy take this for him until Edward showed up. Stede could handle himself, too. But for now, he just whispered a prayer to a god who he’d long since stopped believing in and waited for the footsteps that would herald Izzy’s return. 

They dragged him to another small room, and Izzy spared a thought for what fucking ship has this many tiny fucking rooms? He takes in the room, and comes to a few realizations; these guys are pros, yes, but not Pro pros. He hasn’t been interrogated by less than five people in a decade. 

One shoves him to his knees and he goes; you have to be careful when you fight back. That was something Izzy had learned early, when to let Hornigold grab him or throw him or hurt him because if he protested he, or Edward, got it worse.

He’d always cared far more when Edward got it worse, but that didn’t matter right now because, miraculously, Edward wasn’t here. Bonnet was. Which meant that somehow , this was still his goddamn job. 

It had started because Edward couldn’t take a punch. Well, he could, but he’d come back up swinging. Hornigold had learned that the hard way, once, when he was beating into Ed for nicking a bottle of rum. 

Izzy had watched as he’d learned the harder way that if you held him down long enough, hit him hard enough, he’d crumble into a million pieces and tell you anything you’d ever wanted to know and so. Well. Izzy had done as close as he did to giving an order and told Edward no. 

“You’re the captain.” He’d said, had left no room for argument. “My job is to keep you in one piece. They take me first. You have to let them take me first. Please.” He couldn’t say what he meant; I can’t watch them hurt you I can’t watch you die I can’t do it, please. Please don’t ever make me. 

He was a coward, was the thing. He’d never been able to look the Kraken in the eye, never been able to say the words they both knew he meant because if they both knew he meant them… clearly saying them wouldn’t do anything . If Ed, if the Kraken, had cared about it then he would’ve already.

But more than any of those things…he had never been able to deal with Edward being hurt. Or, more specifically, with the way Edward reacted to being hurt, angry and violent and terrified, a Kraken who had just watched a harpoon pierce through the soft flesh of its underbelly and it didn’t matter that the blow wouldn’t kill him, it was the fear that such a thing could that mattered.

Krakens, and Captains, were meant to be untouchable. When that illusion faded, when that illusion got cracked, they lashed out. That was a lesson every Captain Izzy had ever known had made very, very sure he was aware of. And the Kraken…well. The Kraken had made very sure that he’d never forget it. 

He refocused to a hand gripping his jaw. Someone spit in his face and he forced himself not to move, or to question how long he’d been out of it; the grip on his jaw had tightened. It would be bruised. If that was the worst they did, Izzy knew he’d be lucky. 

He hit the wall with a thud, grimacing as pain laced up his shoulder, but still not making a sound. Relief flooded his chest as two of them grabbed him and dragged him out of the little room and back toward the cell; his toes, at least, were safe. For now. 

Please, Eddie. He begged silently. I don’t know how long I can protect him for you. Please. 

The cell clangs shut behind him and he lasts just long enough for the footsteps to move away, for the relative privacy to be restored before he just gives in to the tremors he’s been suppressing for what feels like hours. Stede is there, too, but he can’t worry about that because he’s shaking too hard to speak, too hard to breathe, agony lancing up his shoulder, nauseous and disoriented and hurting too badly to move. 

As his breathing and shaking slowly calmed a little and the worst of the panic faded, he found that he’d been moved; his head was resting in Stede Bonnet’s lap, the blond’s hands stroking gently over his sides like he…like he’s purposefully avoiding causing pain. It’s an absurd thought, but then his hearing finally filters in and he hears Stede’s voice, soft and scared but still steady.

“It’s alright, Israel.” Stede soothed. “It’s okay, I have you, you’re safe. Can you breathe with me? There’s a chap, good job, just keep breathing. It’s alright, they’re gone, I won’t let them hurt you again. You’re safe, Israel, it’s alright, no one is going to hurt us. We’re going to be alright.” 

Izzy shifts, slowly, taking in the scene. Stede is in the corner, legs stretched out so he can cradle Izzy in his lap, his jacket (already bloody and dirty, but still far nicer than nothing) draped over the smaller man’s legs. 

“Bonnet?” he rasps, knowing he must sound like shit but trying to reach his usual indifferent annoyance with his second captain. Stede, Bonnet, nodded and stroked a hand over his hair again and Izzy hated how nice it felt. “Yes, it’s me I’m afraid. It’s alright, take a second, you’re safe. I’m sorry for touching you; you weren’t breathing right, I was worried.”

Izzy wishes that he could tell the other man to fuck off, that he could tell the other man he was fine and to stop touching him, that he could tell him anything at all but he’s still stuck, somewhere, between the memories of the Kraken’s hands on his jaw and Hornigold’s smoke in his throat and blood everywhere hurting hurting hurting hurting hurting and he feels his breath strangle in his chest again.

Stede curses, softly, gathering Izzy closer so his head is pressed to the Captain’s chest and despite himself, listening to the soothing heartbeat in his ear soothes him enough that he can get a full breath. “There you go, sweetheart,” Stede murmured. “You’re doing so well, it’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. I’m not…I won’t let you go, Israel, not if you don’t want me to.” 

Izzy’s not in control of his body, that much is clear because he visibly relaxes at the words. Stede knows that Izzy hates him, but right now this is clearly not a Normal Situation so he’s going to be a good captain, damnit, and right now that means he’s going to take care of his First Mate.

He’s trembling still but he seems a little calmer, finally breathing properly again, but his eyes are still glazed and he doesn’t look good, even if there’s no blood. Stede feels a momentary stab of terror because he is so not fucking qualified for this but he needs to do something because this is his job.

Because Ed had told him, in his own shaky, broken words, how much Izzy meant to him and Stede couldn’t possibly look the man he loved in the eyes when they got out of here if he just let that man’s best friend, who he loved, suffer alone. Izzy huddled closer, instinctively, as the boat creaked around them and Stede just kept talking, whispering what he hoped was soothing nonsense.

“Eddie?” Izzy croaks, the sound redrawing Stede’s attention, and something in Stede’s chest tightened with sympathy. “No, still just Stede. I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll be coming to find us though! You know how he is.” 

Apparently, it’s the wrong thing to say; something painful flashes over Izzy’s face even as he agrees softly “He’ll be here for you any day now.” And Stede knows he can be a little slow to understand some of these Pirate Things, sometimes, but he knows what Izzy isn’t saying. “No, Israel. Izzy. Look at me?” Izzy mutters something but, slowly, tilts his head to see Stede’s face. 

“He’ll be here for us .” He keeps the words simple and firm. “He’ll be here for us, Izzy . You and I both.” Izzy opens his mouth to say something, but Stede shakes his head. He knows, a little at least, from Edward, how poor their communication has been but really , how can Izzy still not understand?

“He might not. Be Edward. Really. I don’t…you’ve met the Kraken.” Izzy shrugs, and then to Stede’s surprise the smaller man curls further into him, even though he’s back to being relatively coherent, tucking his face into Stede’s throat soaking in as much comfort as he can possibly get before Stede realizes that there’s no reason to keep holding him.

Izzy had already accepted that he was going to die here, be it at the hands of their captors or the Kraken when he realized that Izzy had failed him again. If he was going to die, well…he was allowed a moment to be weak, to crave the soft touch of a man who he hated and who hated him right back.

Edward was pacing up and down the deck. He was practically vibrating with unrestrained fury; it had been days , now, and they still hadn’t managed to find the ship that had taken his boyfriend and his…his Izzy. 

It didn’t help that he was starting to see why Izzy got so upset at the crew. He was doing work he hadn’t done in decades because no one on the crew seemed to have any idea of how to do it, and he hurt in ways he hadn’t since he was a deckhand. He’d finally ordered Fang and Ivan to get the crew to listen or he would.

Izzy had made sure he hadn’t had to do this kind of work in a very long time, but Ed had never even thought about it or how much Izzy likely hurt having to do it all for so many years. Without his permission his brain flashed through all the tiny moments he’d never even thought about; Izzy, leaning on the railing for support or hobbling around the deck visibly in pain, still keeping the ship running. 

If, no, when they got them back…he was going to be better. Those were the words he whispered into his hands, wept into the sea when no one was watching, into Izzy’s pillow the night before when he finally was too tired to be embarrassed and retreated to Izzy’s cabin. It was so bare and Ed thought about Izzy’s cabin on the Queen Anne’s Revenge with its warm rug and its curtain and the way it had felt like a home.

“Please.” he whispered, just in case the moon hanging over his head was really listening, like Buttons always said. “Please give him back. I, we, we’ll be better this time. We’ll make sure he’s happy again. We’ll take such good care of him. He deserves it so much even if I don’t” 

God. Ed couldn’t even begin to remember the last time he’d seen Izzy look happy, seen him laugh.

That realization pulled a new wave of helpless tears from him. God, Izzy was meant to be his best friend, how was it that he couldn’t even remember the last time his best friend was happy. It must’ve been back on the Queen Anne. Maybe it was one of those nights when Ed would creep into his room and they’d curl up together on his too-small bed and just talk .

Or maybe it was when they used to fight. They would spar for hours, till neither could lift a sword for how badly their muscles burned, laughing till their sides hurt as they just sat there together on the deck, the moon high above their heads, and dreamed of what it might be like to have their own ship some day. 

They had dreamed about it. Edward as Captain and Izzy as First Mate (there had never been any question there, and if there ever had been Izzy would never have heard it. He’d been Ed’s already, then, even if Ed hadn’t understood what that meant at the time. Sometimes, he didn’t think he understood it now either).

God, he’d fucked things up so fucking badly with Izzy. He was going to get them back, both of them back, and then he’d spend the rest of fucking time on his knees begging Izzy for forgiveness that Izzy would be entirely correct to never offer him but it was fine because Izzy would be here, and he would be alive, and that would be enough.

Ed had never been a religious man. His arms were lined with crosses, but those had never been about religion. He ran his fingers over them now, staring out at the sea. It was just him and Buttons, now, so with just the moon to watch him he slid to his knees. 

  “I promise,” he whispered desperately, just for himself and the moon and the sea, and Buttons if he cared enough to listen though Edward (Correctly) doubted he did. “If you give him back to me, I promise I’ll love him better this time. Like he deserves to be loved. Please.” 

He did not expect the sea to respond. The sea is a fickle mistress, that’s a lesson that every sailor learns young, harshly, and often . But the Kraken was a creature of the sea, after all, more familiar and understanding of her waves and her moods and her moments than any other soul, and when Edward lifted his head back up to stare at the horizon, his eyes found the mast of a ship.

Izzy hit the floor of the cell with a thud, every muscle in his body screaming in pain. They’d let some of the deckhands at him, today, and Izzy knew those years well enough to understand that they needed to show how brutal they could be but it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. He was already bruised from the kicks and blows, a few of his ribs certainly cracked, and that was after the lashes he’d taken the day before.

It had been five days, Stede thought. The meager water and hard tack had not exactly been filling, leaving him feeling relatively awful. It must be SO, so much worse for Izzy though because Izzy is pale and trembling and he looks so awful but he still keeps going and Stede doesn’t know what to say.

He’d always known Izzy was loyal, of course; that was an immutable fact of the universe, or at least it was when Edward said it. There was a strangled possessiveness in it, in the way Edward would declare the first mate his and Stede would’ve called it incredibly unhealthy if not for the way Izzy reveled in it, like a sunflower trying to chase the sun across the sky.

He practically preened whenever Edward said it, like it was the proudest, most honorable thing in the world. And to Izzy, Stede suspected it was; he knew Izzy was proud of it. Was proud of his loyalty, of his devotion. But somehow, Edward had never considered that maybe it wasn’t just loyalty that drove his first mate even if everyone else could see it from the moment they met the pair.

Edward was in love with Izzy, a fact that had initially made Stede nervous but which he now understood was just another one of those unchangeable, untouchable truths. The problem had arisen when, less than a month after his return, Stede had become aware of the second half of that particular truth.

Edward loved Izzy. And Izzy loved Edward. The two stupid, ridiculous, complicated men were both just so in their own head that each thought it thoroughly impossible that they were loved by the other. Each had convinced themself they didn’t deserve that sort of kindness from the other, and frankly, it was driving Stede mad.

He and Lucius had had several long tea sessions bitching about the two men, by this point; it was painful. There were only so many ways Stede could drop hints about not minding if Ed wanted to also see Izzy, only so many times that Lucius could slide up to the smaller man at breakfast and tell him that he was “like a sad, pining puppy.”

Now though, now was the first time that Stede thought maybe he understood why Edward was in love with Izzy. “It's a lot, sometimes.” Edward had told him once. “In a good way, mind, but…the strength of his devotion, the willingness to die for you purely because he’s convinced it’s his only point in the world…”

Edward didn’t have to say the words to make it clear he wasn’t so terribly fond of that particular part of Izzy’s devotion but he’d never been able to find the words to say no. To say I understand you will die on that sword for me, but I don’t want you to.

In his defense, Stede was certain that even if he’d had those words, Izzy wouldn’t, couldn’t, have listened. Ed meant too much to him in ways that Stede didn’t know if he’d ever be able to understand much less match but maybe there were benefits to that, too. Izzy couldn’t ‘betray’ Edward like that, even if it was at Edward’s own order. But for Stede? Stede suspected there might be a little more wiggle room.

“Israel.” he says, and he goes for his best Captain Voice, somewhere between ‘concerned father’ and ‘concerned person who doesn’t want to get stabbed.’ Izzy grunts, at least enough of a sound to make it clear that he’s listening. “I don’t want you to go, next time they come for one of us.” 

Izzy’s eyes slide open as he makes a sound that for a moment sounds like he’s choking, and then Stede realizes he’s laughing, a choking awful little sound that tears through his chest and leaves him slumped trembling in Stede’s lap when the hysterics turn to tears. Stede shushes him, alarmed by the distress he’s apparently caused.

“Israel.” he soothes. “Shh, oh…oh Israel. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I said.” “You think I want them to take me, Bonnet?” Izzy rasped painfully. “You think I want this? It has to be me, Bonnet. I can’t have Ed come and find you hurt or.” his breath catches painfully in his chest and Stede tightens his grip slightly. 

“I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” he murmurs, as gently as he can, but Izzy still flinches. “I’m your captain, one of them, and I'm ordering you to let them take me next time. I can do it, Israel, and you’re too hurt. You need a break before they kill you next time and then Ed comes and has a breakdown because you’re dead.” 

“He’d probably throw a fucking party.” Izzy rasps, aiming for anger but the raw hurt in his voice can’t be disguised. Stede bites back a sigh, a noise of frustration, anything because how can these brave, complicated, ridiculous men still be so fucking blind. Hell, even with how strained things have been between them, how can Izzy possibly think that Edward wants him DEAD? 

He has no time to consider what to say next, not when the footsteps start. He moves before he can stop himself and then he has Izzy’s jaw in his hand, grip deceptively light but fingers pressing in just hard enough that Izzy can feel it.

“Edward loves you.” he says, very firmly, as if he doesn’t know that the words are far more than Izzy can take, likely. Is relying on them being more than Izzy can take, right now. “He’s always loved you, I think, though I’ll leave that for him to answer. If he comes and you’re dead he’s going to burn down this ship, and then he’s going to burn down the entire Caribbean. I am your captain. It’s my job to keep you safe. You listen to me, too. And I am telling you you are not going to go this time,” 

And then he turns and stands as the door swings open and Izzy doesn’t have time to collect himself from the shock of Stede’s words before he’s gone and the door is shut and for the first time in five days, Israel Hands is alone. 

He tries to convince himself that he's too tough to cry over this, lasts all of a minute before he's hiding his face in stede's coat and trembling like a leaf caught in a gale. He's so cold and so lonely and it's awful and humiliating .

He wants so badly to be angry, furious, with Stede. How could the man do this, go against Izzy’s position and force him to watch his captain be hurt knowing every injury Stede sustained would surely be inflicted on him by Blackbeard five times over for letting Stede get hurt. 

It didn't help that, if he let himself think about it for too long, he realized that he also really…didn't want Stede to get hurt. He doesn't want Stede to be hurt, to be killed. Stede can't take the pain like he can, can't take the blows and still come up spitting. Izzy knows the line, knows just how much he can take. It’s a learned skill, one he’s almost proud of. Stede doesn’t have that. 

The treatment Izzy has been receiving will break him. Will kill him. And even if he's an asshole…Izzy doesn't, can't, want that. Not when Stede has, for some reason that Izzy doubts he’ll ever understand, been almost fucking nice to him since they’ve been taken.

He hasn't been able to keep his captain happy for a long time. If he can do this, do one more thing now that might make Edward happy, maybe some part of his miserable life will have been worth it. Maybe at least he can die knowing Edward would be happy because of him.

The ship rocks around him, and he grimaces. He's been at sea long enough that he can tell when a storm is coming; not as well as Edward, who can just sort of fucking divine it, but well enough to feel it in his aching bones. 

A storm is coming. And Izzy has never, in his entire life, felt more alone.

You're never really alone in a ship, is the thing. You take meals with a crew you usually bunk with someone you work decks with people you raid surrounded by people he really, truly, had not been alone in a very long time. 

In this miserable little closet/cell, though, it was just him and the echo of Stede, the memory of warm fingers stroking his hair, the warmth of the coat draped over his legs. The reminder that he hadn't been alone, that Stede's presence had not been a desperate illusion. 

He couldn't believe he was even thinking this but suddenly, profoundly, all he wanted was Stede Fucking Bonnet to come back. Hell, Bonnet could read a fucking children’s book at this point, if he wanted, and Izzy wasn’t sure he’d care he just…needed to know he hadn’t failed. 

A tiny knock on the door drew his attention; it clearly wasn’t Stede, he this wasn’t his ship and more importantly, he was pretty sure the rich bastard had never knocked on a door even once in his whole fucking life. 

“Fuck off.” he rasps, weakly. There’s silence for a moment, and then another knock and somehow it soothes something deep in his belly, the idea that despite everything he’s not alone. He knows it’s a trick, or a trap, that he shouldn’t cling to this tiny scrap of comfort and yet…

And yet, when the panic of loneliness swells up again, he can’t help but do it again, touching trembling knuckles to the door and waiting for the tiny sound that responded, all the while pondering who would be this fucking stupid, or think he was this fucking stupid.

“Oy. You.” he hissed. “You a fuckin’ rat?” He knew that anyone worth anything out here knew what that was; a ship rat, a stowaway. Izzy had been one of them, once, before he’d met Edward. Before everything. Hornigold had been almost impressed with him, he could tell, stick-thin but still stubborn enough to have a dagger in his hand.

There were two knocks, that time, one rapid-fire after the other, and something in Izzy’s chest relaxed very slightly. “Ok.” He sighs. “Should fuckin’ get out of here, kid. You don’t wanna see what they’re gonna do if they get you. This ain’t a fuckin’ ship that keeps rats.” 

One knock. Izzy leans his head against the wall, too worn to say anything more, but every few minutes, there’s a quiet knock and somehow, it keeps the worst of the loneliness away.

The ship was tossing and turning by the time the door swung open again and Bonnet was shoved in. He was pale and shaky and crying and Izzy darted towards him, helping him to sit, trembling fingers touching Stede as gently as he could as if the ridiculous man would shatter if he breathed on him too hard.

“Fuck, Bonnet, Stede, what happened where are you hurt?” he demanded, trying to convince himself internally that he was solely asking because he was worried about what was going to happen to him, not because the look on Bonnet’s face was so painfully like a puppy left out in a storm that Izzy sort of wanted to cry. 

“I’m fine.” Stede rasped, though the bruise already taking over his jaw on one side and the way he was cradling his left hand to his chest told a very different story. But his eyes were focused and, as he stared at Izzy, there was something frighteningly intense and calculating in his gaze.

“Is that…are they that disagreeable every time?” Izzy stills, not entirely sure what to say or what the response here should be. Edward would’ve wanted Izzy to roll his eyes, insult the other pirates, to laugh it off. Edward would’ve wanted anything but the truth; anything but yes, it was always that awful. Anything but the fact that Izzy was cold and tired, and in pain, and wasn’t sure how many more times he could do this.

But something in Stede made Izzy think maybe that wasn’t what the blond wanted, that somehow, maybe the blond actually wanted to know what had happened. Maybe he actually wanted to know how bad it was, even if it was just so he knew he made the right decision in a minute when he said that he wasn’t going to be doing that again. Izzy couldn’t blame him; he would give anything, right now, to not know that he was about to have to do that again. 

“Yeah.” He whispers, in the end, lets that one word be the entirety of the answer. “I, uh…yeah. That looks like about the average of it, for me at least. I don’t blame you for not wanting to do it again, ‘s fine.” He slumped back against the wall, was just about to try and close his eyes when Stede gave a quiet, confused little sound.

“I don’t believe I said that, Izzy.” Izzy tilts his head in Stede’s direction, eyes half-open as he mutters “Look, Stede, I get it. You put up a token protest, now you get to let me do my job and keep you from getting any more hurt.”

“You’ve made it clear you don’t care about my level of injury in the past.” Stede’s voice is calm, even though the words make Izzy flinch slightly. “Why is it that you’ve decided you care now?” Anger bubbles in his chest at the words, red-hot and painful, but he knows that Stede is a moron so maybe he really doesn’t realize. Maybe explaining this is yet another round of pain that Izzy’s going to have to bear for his captains. 

“Whatever happens to you, Ed’s gonna be mad at me.” He rasps. “It’s not…I’m not doing it for you.” It feels like a lie in a way it hadn’t in his own head, that first time, and he doesn’t even know why because it should, by all accounts, be the truth. The idea that it’s not anymore…that’s a fear that Izzy doesn’t know that he has the ability to face, right now, so he resorts back to his best defense mechanism: deflection.

“If I take the pain now, I won’t have to take it from Edward.” he rasps, and he pretends that Bonnet can’t hear the words under it, the understanding that taking pain for someone he loves  his captain was better than taking it from him. He didn’t know if he could stand being punished for this, not when he was so tired and had been trying so hard to protect Stede but Stede hadn’t let him and he didn’t know what to do. 

It was like nothing he was trying to do was good enough and he was so tired and he just…wanted to be able to do this, for Ed. To succeed at something for his captain even if it meant his death. At least then Ed could have Stede, like he wanted, and he wouldn’t have to deal with Izzy anymore. Surely that was the ultimate gift. 

He refocused to the realization that Stede was staring at him in abject horror, and the uncomfortable realization that he was not sure how long he’d been speaking aloud. “...shit.” he muttered. “I uh…I didn’t…I didn’t mean to…” Stede moved, before Izzy could focus enough to track the movement, and then he was tucked against Stede’s chest, head under the bigger man’s chin, being held. 

He should fight, kick or scream, but the boat was starting to rock worse under him, now. More than that…he really wanted to be held, somewhere deep in his chest in that little corner of his soul that he never let be bare. But if he was going to die…well. He might as well die being held in the way he hadn’t since he and Ed were children sharing a hammock. 

He crept closer, if such a thing was possible, timidly hiding his face in Stede’s neck and breathing in the scent of blood and gunpowder. Stede crooned, gently, tangling his fingers in Izzy’s hair. “Shhh.” He murmured. “Ed won’t hurt you, darling. He’s going to be so glad that you’re safe, and that I’m safe. We’re both safe, and he’s going to come for us both, I promise.”

Izzy was just opening his mouth, likely to say something about how dare Stede pretend that he knows Ed better than him when the entire ship lurched to one side, sending both of them sprawling, with an impossibly loud crack. Stede yelps in terror but Izzy goes very still because that…that could’ve been a mast, yeah, or an ill-secured barrel or piece of cargo but to him…

To him, it sounded like a cannonball. Maybe…maybe, just maybe…

“Please. ” He whispered pathetically; a prayer, or a desperate, desperate plea. “Please, Eddie. Please let him be right.”

Edward was the first person on the ship. Was it smart to board in the middle of the night, in the middle of a relatively severe storm? No. But…but Stede was there, and Izzy was there, and he was facing this other ship with a relatively inexperienced crew. The element of surprise was all he had.

He had a sword in one hand and a gun in the other as they boarded, Jim only half a step behind diving forward to tackle two men to the ground with knives in their throats. Frenchie and Wee John dove to one side while Fang and Ivan darted towards the captain’s cabin and Ed…Ed scanned the deck intently. He didn’t expect them to be up here, of course, but he had to look. In case.

He darted for the stairs, Fang and Ivan moving with him. It was a relatively small ship, without too many crew members, though they were pretty decent fighters. Nothing like Izzy, though…Izzy. Ed needed to find Izzy, needed to hold him, both of them. Needed to beg for forgiveness, for everything he’d ever done wrong.

They barged through doors, searching barrels, and crates, over and under and around and there was nothing. Panic struck Edward all at once, suddenly; he’d considered so many possibilities of what this crew was doing to his Stede and his Izzy, but somehow he’d never considered the idea that they would’ve just…just thrown them overboard. Just gotten rid of them in some way. 

The sea roared under them, twisting and wicked, and Izzy stumbled to his shaking legs, helping Stede up. He was pretty sure one of the lashes on his shoulder was infected, the heat having settled in his bones and he felt pretty shitty, but it was fine. He was fine. He fumbled with the door, fighting to get it open but it was clearly barred or locked from the other side.

“Shit.” Izzy cursed as the ship tilted under them, sending them both into the wall, pain lancing up through his aching body. “Fuck, fucking…oh fucking shit Bonnet, you feel how the ship is tilting? That was another fuckin’ cannon shot, fucking…shit. How deep in the hold are we.” 

He was dizzy with terror in a way he hadn’t been since his first fight when he was a boy. When the very idea of combat was overwhelming and terrifying and he’d wanted so badly to run and hide but that was a death sentence, so he’d fought, and he’d won. 

He could do this. He had to get them out of here, he could do that. He gave the door another try, not because he thought it would open (it didn’t) but to feel how secured it was. It was strong, though, sturdy enough there was no way he could get it open. There was no possible chance this door was going to open, not like this, so he resorted to the only thing he could do. 

“HEY,” he roared, banging on the door as loud as he could. “Hey, fuckin’ let us out!” He didn’t expect this plan to work, either, not really. And this was what he deserved, a slow, painful death alone. But Bonnet…Bonnet was an asshole and a prick, and Izzy didn’t want him to die here, didn’t think he deserved it. 

He’d wanted Bonnet to deserve it, was the thing. He’d begged the world for that much, almost. For Bonnet to deserve to suffer for all of the pain that Izzy had blamed him for but it wasn’t Bonnet’s fault, not most of it. Izzy was the one who had angered Ed, who had earned every slap, every blow, every moment of pain. That much had been made painfully clear.

“COME ON” He roared, slamming his shoulder into the door again even though it sent spikes of agony through his lashes, through his throbbing ribs and the foot that never really stopped aching. “EDWARD. EDWARD, WE’RE FUCKIN’ HERE.”

There was a tiny sound and then the door crept open. A tiny, stick-thin boy, maybe 12 or 13, stared up at them with huge eyes. He reminded Izzy so much of himself, at that moment, that he had to dig his teeth into the side of his wrist to stop the memories from overwhelming him when he remembered where he’d seen that face before.

Edward Teach was the Kraken. He knew that even if he wasn’t exactly fair about it when Izzy brought it up. He knew what he was, who he was. He knew the way the ocean would settle for him, the way he could read it better than anyone whom he’d ever met in his life. Please he asked, softly, and the world settled and Izzy’s voice, like the sweetest of songs, met his ears.

He had no idea how he got from the stairs to the tiny room, tucked behind a few boxes, in a spot he’d never have found, but he wasn’t the first one there. There was a stick-thin child, not anything older than 11 or 12, standing in the doorway reaching forward and Ed almost saw red but then…

It’s like he’s paralyzed. Water is starting to splash against his toes as he can feel the ship starting to sink, the waves starting to rise to claim it, to punish them. It feels somehow, simultaneously, like only a split second but also like a thousand years until he jerks past the boy and into the room.

Izzy looks so fucking small, practically naked besides the coat that he’s been wrapped in. Ed can see bruises blooming along his side, lashes peeking over his shoulder, and a nasty black eye. Stede is at his side, clearly trying to subtly take some of Izzy’s weight, though Ed is pretty sure Izzy has noticed, and he has some bruises but besides that, he looks fine. 

Ed doesn’t care though. He reaches for them, closes his arms around them and pulls them to his arms and Izzy goes painfully stiff. There’s something like fear in the movement, but that’s for later because right now he’s hauling Izzy into his arms and turning to get them the hell away from this ship.

“REVENGE CREW. WITH ME.” he roars and they fall in behind him. Most of the other crew is already dead but Izzy tugs at Ed’s ear, whispering “Take the kid.” Ed turns, eyes falling on the trembling child and he doesn’t know why, but he knows Izzy well enough to not ask. Ed shouts the order and leaps to their ship, ignoring the way his knee groans with protest.

It’s nice to see the crew working; they slice the ropes with relative ease, separating the two ships again. The other is already sinking, dipping slowly closer and closer to the depths. Ed doesn’t stay to watch it sink fully, turning to retreat down the stairs and into the captain’s quarters, Izzy still held to his chest.

Ed is shaking too, he realizes a little late, as he gently sets Izzy down on the table so he can easily see his wounds. Izzy is already grumbling, something about “I’m fine, boss, just let me go back to my room,” utter nonsense like that that Edward barely hears, much less pays attention to.

Stede follows them down, and Ed sees the way Izzy’s breath catches and fear flashes in his eyes when Stede tugs off his shirt to reveal more bruises along his side. “I’m fine, darling,” Stede says, clearly having caught the expression, but it doesn’t seem like the declaration does much to calm Izzy.

“Izzy.” Ed croaks, tears rolling down his cheeks, and he’s the most beautiful thing Izzy has ever seen even like this. Maybe somehow, he’s extra pretty like this. Izzy reaches out shakily and brushes his fingers through Ed’s hair on some ridiculous instinct that he can’t possibly name. “I’m okay, Eddie.” He whispers like he’d used to when they were boys sharing a hammock after a tough raid because coming down from the adrenaline alone was hell. 

Izzy wasn’t sure where Stede had gone til the other captain returned, setting down a bowl of water and some clean clothes. Ed made a quiet sound of relief, wetting a cloth before bringing it up to dab at Izzy’s face, gently cleaning away the blood. It was the sort of tenderness that Izzy had absolutely never received from Edward, from anyone , and he could feel himself biting back tears. 

“Eddie” he croaked, because later he could blame it on the fever and the infection. “Eddie.” Ed shushed him gently, coaxing him to half-turn and hissing at the infected lashes on his shoulder. “Damn. Get some of the alcohol, Stede, and some bandages? Please?”

“Of course darling.” Stede wandered across the room and Izzy focused on tuning out his pain by tracking Stede’s movements, the way the man was moving relatively without pain soothing the worst of the terror in his belly. Stede wasn’t hurt too badly, which meant once Edward realized, Izzy might not be hurt too badly, either. 

The reality of it was that any pain, anything Edward could do to him, was worth it if he got these soft touches and these warm hands on him, even if they were followed by a “Breathe, Iz.” As pain sliced through his shoulder, a knife lancing the infection from his veins.  

This is good , I refuse to die from a fucking infection he reminded himself, when the knife was followed with a damn cloth that cleaned everything away, the sting of alcohol, and then a fucking kiss was pressed to his shoulder.

He couldn’t stop the mournful whimper that escaped his lips when Ed moved away. He felt awful, feverish and shaky and in pain but also so fucking frightened that he would really never have been willing to say anything about it even if he wasn’t still waiting for what was coming.

“Boss.” He rasped and Ed turned to look at him. “Can you…can you do it now? I can take it, I promise, I just…I just don’t want it to happen later, once I’m already healed. Please?” Ed made a soft, pained sound but Izzy couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but hunch in his spot on the table and wait. 

“Darling?” Stede murmured and it took Izzy a few long moments to realize that Stede somehow meant him. “Darling, I…what do you think is going to happen right now? What are you asking Edward to do?” 

“Punish me,” Izzy says almost matter-of-factly, and he stubbornly ignores the sound Ed makes at his words. “It…’s my fault, I was supposed to protect you and I failed and we got caught, and then I failed again and you got hurt, and I know how Blackbeard punishes failure better than fuckin’ anyone else, stop acting surprised Bonnet! I fuckin’ told you how this would go! You just didn’t believe me.” 

Ed gave another broken sound and then Izzy was being drawn forward into a warm chest and he stiffened, panic seizing his lungs in absolute terror, but nothing happened. There was no flash of a blade, not even any fingers pressing cruelly into the reopened wound on his shoulder, cleaned of pus but still bleeding a little.

Instead, his head was tucked under Ed’s chin and he was held as tightly as Edward could, which was hell on his broken ribs but he didn’t care because it felt so fucking good, after so fucking long in that cold, damp cell, for Edward to hold him. He’d let the bigger man do anything to him for that tiny moment of comfort, and he said as much but it just made Edward sob again and Izzy didn’t understand. 

The worst part was that Edward could completely understand why Izzy was expecting pain. In the past, that’s what Edward, what Blackbeard, and certainly what the Kraken would’ve done. Izzy had failed, which meant Izzy deserved to be punished. That was how it would’ve worked and he wouldn’t have fucking given it a second thought.

Now, he held Izzy even closer, pulling the smaller man fully off the table and into his arms and Izzy finally clings back, just a little, and fuck Edward knows what it takes for Izzy to allow himself a weakness like that. Ed stepped back slowly, til his legs hit the couch and he could sit, cradling Izzy in his arms. Izzy blinked up at him, looking small and feverish and so fucking confused.

“Iz. I need you to listen to me, yeah?” He murmured. Izzy gave a tentative nod. “I am not going to fuckin’ lay a finger on you. Alright? Izzy blinked, confusion and pain and loss on his face as he tried to pull away, still too weak to put up much of a fight, and Ed sighed. “No, fuck, baby, not like that I didn’t mean I wasn’t going to hold you.”

Izzy whimpered ; he was feverish and confused and Edward was touching him in ways Izzy hadn’t been touched in so fucking long and none of this made any fucking sense. Izzy gave up, muscles trembling as he just…slumped against Ed’s chest. Ed held him, gently, grabbing the cloth that Stede offered him and starting to clean more of the grime from his too-pale skin while Stede sat down next to them, resting his own hand on Izzy’s shoulder.

“I’m not going to hurt you” Edward pressed onwards, because he needed Izzy to understand. “You’re safe now, Iz; we came and got you, both of you, and you’re safe now.” Izzy shutters and presses closer, hiding his face in Ed’s neck. “I’m sorry Eddie.” he croaks but Ed shushes him, pressing his lips to the top of Izzy’s head. “It’s okay, Iz,” Ed murmurs. “It’s okay.” 

Izzy kept sniffling, the sort of emotion he’d never really allowed himself in Ed’s company before. It hurts, unquestionably, to know that Izzy can cry silently like this because clearly he’s done it before. He never should’ve had to do that. He never should’ve been hurt, really, but Ed was aware that they were pirates and it was unlikely that was a reasonable expectation.

“It’s okay Iz.” He murmurs as Stede goes and gets a damp cloth, works to clean more of the blood and grime from his skin before finally giving up and offering “Izzy, darling, would you like a bath?” Izzy’s eyes flicked up towards Ed, but Ed gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile and somehow that made Izzy look even more unmoored.

His breath stuttered against Ed’s careful grip, eyes blown wide with panic and confusion and something painful lanced through him. Izzy looked so confused that Edward wasn’t deciding, wasn’t ordering, and it was something they needed to talk about but he didn’t think this was the time. Instead he said, as gently as he could without going patronizing, “Yeah, Iz; let us clean you up, yeah baby? Then we can cuddle.”

Relief flashed over Izzy’s face at the order and he nodded, slowly settling against Ed’s chest as Ed hoisted him up and towards the bedroom. The boys had already filled the tub, he made a note to thank them later for it, and Ed couldn’t help himself from climbing into the tub with Izzy and cradling him close.

Izzy knew was littered with cuts and bruises, a gash down his side, damage to his ribs, but none of that mattered to Izzy. He was warmer than he could ever remember being, like this, cradled in the safety of Edward’s arms in a way he never would’ve allowed himself before even if Edward would’ve asked. 

Stede was there, too, even if it took Izzy’s weary brain a moment to acknowledge that fact. Stede was helping was the blood away, though he hesitated when Izzy let his head flop to Ed’s shoulder at an angle where he could see Stede, but when he didn’t protest Stede kept working. 

Izzy drifted on the soft hands that stroked his face, savoring each and every touch. “Eddie.” he sighed contently, like he still couldn’t quite believe it. “Eddie. Eddie. Eddie.” Ed smiled, pressing a light kiss to Izzy’s cheek, closing his eyes and just savoring the feel of Izzy’s skin, sun-worn and leathered, under his. 

Izzy drifts till he’s settled back in bed, tucked under Ed’s chin with Ed’s arms wrapped warm and tight and safe around him. “Eddie?” he whispers, and Ed tightens his grip. “Iz.” he murmurs again, relief flashing over his face. “Fuck, baby, I…I missed you so much.” Ed croaked.

Izzy scooted back slightly, so he could look at Ed properly. Ed was pale, and there were deep circles under his eyes that made it clear he had not been sleeping well recently. There was a desperation in the way he clung to Izzy’s forearms that should’ve been concerning, if not for the fact that Izzy was clinging back just as tightly. 

The very idea of moving away from Ed was too much for him to manage to even think about right now. Thankfully, it didn’t really matter, because Ed scooted closer again and soon Izzy was being squished against his chest again. He gave a content little sigh, snuggling his face into Ed’s neck. 

He was too tired, really, to panic about this. Sure, he was sure he’d pay for it tomorrow, when Ed and Stede stopped asking weird, and remembered that Ed was meant to be Stede’s and Izzy was just…there. But if he was going to get this, for even an instant, then he was going to absolutely savor every second.

He drifted awake to find the sunlight shining through the window of the Captain’s cabin, and Ed’s arms still clamped like steel bands around him. He feels impossibly safe like this, even if he’s still aching and in pain and really probably shouldn’t be letting Ed grip him this tightly when he’s got bruised ribs.

Now that he’s rested though, panic starts creeping in around the edges. He shouldn’t stay here, like this; the crew will see, and then they’ll ask questions, and they’ll probably never respect him again or, worse, they’ll turn on Ed and Stede but it’s…hard to panic when he’s in Ed’s arms like he’s always wanted to be.

He allows himself the indulgence, in the end, hides his face back under Ed’s chin and breathes in the scent of gunpowder and tobacco and leather that means Ed . He knows how limited his time here is, Ed has always slept long and sound but by the light it’s already midday. But if he can scrape even an extra moment or two of this, of Ed’s hands warm and steady against his bare skin, then it’ll be worth everything that comes next.

He’s aware of the moment that Ed awakens because Ed snuffles against his head and says, gently, “Good mornin’ Iz.” It’s the sort of moment that he’s dreamed about, in his weakest moments. These were the things he’d always imagined and never, ever let himself actually dream of. Ed, holding him gently. Ed, giving him this soft, dopey smile like looking at Izzy was somehow nice. 

“Mornin’ darling.” He murmured, leaning forward to kiss Izzy’s forehead and fuck, tears were springing to his eyes despite his attempt to have an iron-clad grip on his emotions. “Fuck.” Ed whispered, and then he was trying to scoot back to get a good look at Izzy and Izzy gave this awful, choking mournful little sound like a dying animal.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t…okay, shh, c’mere Iz. It’s okay, c’mere! Don’t cry iz! I don’t know what to do when you cry!” Ed panicked. Stede, who Izzy only just now realized wasn’t there, hurried to their sides and settled back on the bed, dragging a hand through Izzy’s hair and trying to project an aura of calmness. 

Izzy’s sobs died down quickly and he just lay there in Ed’s arms, stiff as a board, like a man walking to the gallows. Hell, Ed had seen friends walk to their deaths looking less tense than Izzy was right now, though he didn’t voice as much. You couldn’t just…say things to Izzy, not really, not things like that, but…but maybe you could. 

Stede was looking at Izzy, something soft on his face. It was a look Ed had felt directed towards himself plenty of times, but to see it directed towards Izzy was strange and new and…and it didn’t feel bad. It felt good, somehow. Izzy was his, and Stede loved him, of course Stede should look at Izzy like that. Them getting along was a victory Ed had been working hard for goddamnit.

He’d tried sending them places together, he’d tried telling Izzy to listen to Stede, he’d tried getting Stede to order Izzy around, and it hadn’t been successful. He’d finally thrown up his hands and sent them to shore together, and they’d been fucking taken. Gods, this was all his fucking fault wasn’t it.

“Stede.” he murmured, and both glanced at him. “Can you go get us some food, maybe? Give me and Iz a minute to talk?” Stede hesitated but when Izzy didn’t respond he nodded, leaning over to kiss Ed gently. “Of course, darling, I’ll be right back with some breakfast and some tea.” He promised, and then he was gone and Izzy and Ed were left alone.

“Sir.” Izzy tried to start, but Ed shook his head. “C’mon Iz.” he murmured. “Can you just...just listen to me, just for a minute. Please?” Izzy gave a careful nod; he didn’t quite understand why Ed was being so serious about this. Izzy had been hurt plenty of times, many of them far more severe than this.

“I’m not mad at you.” Ed promises. “I know you did everything you could to protect Stede, of course you did, and you did. He’s safe, Iz, and you’re safe, and everything is going to be okay. I swear. Now, can I bandage you up again? Does anything else hurt?”

Izzy hesitates, but Ed looks so earnest that he carefully offers his left hand. Ed’s touch is feather-light, as he carefully extends and then bends Izzy’s fingers, watching his face intently as Izzy desperately tries not to cry out in pain. “Iz.” He whispers, gently. “Iz, I want to help. Please, please let me help. I can’t help if you won’t let me know what’s wrong.”

“It hurts.” Izzy rasps, and Ed nods, pressing his lips to the back of Izzy’s hand gently. “Sweet boy.” He hums. “You’re so good for me, Iz. It doesn’t feel broken, but I’m gonna wrap it for you okay?” Izzy nods hesitantly, leaning against Ed’s side as Ed wraps his wrist gently, checking to make sure it wasn’t too tight before tucking the hand into Izzy’s lap.

“What else?” Izzy hesitated, but Ed was looking at him with naked fucking…adoration, somehow, something soft and warm in his eyes, something painfully close to how he looked at Stede which was ridiculous, but Izzy desperately, fiercely, wanted Ed to keep looking at him like that, to keep touching him softly. “Ribs.” he choked out. “And, and the lashes…I know you drained the bad one but they hurt.”

Ed crooned softly, dragging a hand through Izzy’s hair. “I know.” he soothed. “Shh, oh darlin’, it’s okay.” he helped Izzy lay down again so Izzy’s head was resting in his lap, grimacing at the lash marks in Izzy’s back. “Fuck.” he hissed. “I’m sorry Iz; I promised that wouldn’t happen to you again. I’m so sorry.” 

Izzy didn’t even remember when the fuck that would’ve happened, not really, but he could guess. Hornigold hadn’t liked lashes usually, it scarred too much, but there had been a day where Ed had been being a drunken idiot with Jack, and they’d…fuck, he barely even remembered these days. Drunken some of the Good liquor, probably, and Hornigold had been furious. 

Izzy had taken responsibility, had looked Hornigold in the eyes and lied. He’d gotten so many lashes for the trouble that the ensuing infection had damn near killed him and he still wore plenty of the scars even now, decades later. These wounds weren’t nearly as severe, which was a small blessing in Ed’s opinion as he carefully spread some of Stede’s expensive salve over them.

Izzy was limp and relaxed in his arms by the time he’d finished adding the last of the probably-more-than-was-necessary bandages. Izzy sighed contently as Ed started petting his hair, turning to nuzzle into Ed’s hip for a moment before he caught himself. “Eddie.” He croaked and Ed nodded, kissing his forehead and smiling when Izzy’s eyes went wide.

“I…is it really…why do you keep doing that?” he whispers hoarsely. “I…you’re not mad, okay, I believe you. But like…you don’t have to keep kissing me to prove that to me. I know you don’t want me like that, Eddie.” Ed gives a small, horrified sound, reaching out to brush his knuckles against Izzy’s cheek with a low coo. “Fuck, Iz.” he breathes. “What the everloving fuck makes you think that I don’t fucking love you?” 

Izzy stared at him, and Ed genuinely didn’t know what to say. Sure, he hadn’t always been good at demonstrating his love to Izzy, but how the fuck did the last two days not make that very, very clear?  Izzy just…there was something painfully hesitant in his eyes, like he couldn’t quite dare to believe what he’d heard.

He reached for Edward, hesitantly, and Edward tugged Izzy close and finally finally finally pressed a proper kiss to the smaller man’s lips. Izzy clung to him and kissed back, greedy and desperate and eager. Izzy wasn’t necessarily a good kisser, he didn’t have nearly enough practice for that, but that didn’t matter.

They kissed til Izzy was panting and trembling in Ed’s lap. Ed crooned soothingly when Izzy made a noise of pain, pressing a kiss to his jaw and dragging his hands over Izzy’s flanks. “Easy.” He soothed. “Shh, I gotcha Iz; you can kiss me as much as you like when you’re better, but I don’t want to hurt you.” 

The door swung open as Stede nudged his way in, carrying a tray piled high with food and teacups. Izzy tried to leap up to help, but he barely got vertical before the movement was too much and he fell back to the bed with a yelp of pain as Ed hurried up to take the tray. “You’re still hurt too!” he chided Stede as he nudged the other man towards the bed. “C’mon, lay with Iz.” 

Izzy scooted obediently to the side so Stede can ease himself down onto the bed. “Thank you darling.” Stede beamed at him and Izzy flushed down to his toes. He sniffs tentatively at the tea cup that Ed hands him; Izzy had never had tea, not that he was going to admit that now. It was a luxury that he hadn’t had access to, really, so he sniffed hesitantly at the cup vaguely missing his coffee.

Stede seemed to read his mind because from behind Izzy, he said “Darling, I think you’ll like this one; if you don’t I did bring Coffee, don’t worry. But I do think you’ll like this one, and according to Roach it helps with pain.” Izzy hesitantly lifted the cup to his mouth and took a tiny sip.

He wasn’t sure what he expected, but the tea was warm and soothing and delicious. He stared at it in amazement; it was just sweet enough, soft and sweet and delicious. Stede gave a gentle laugh; Izzy’s expression was eerily similar to the first time Stede had brought Ed tea. “Good boy.” Ed murmured. “There you go, Iz. ‘s good, right?”

Izzy bit his lip as he nodded, but his hand was shaking even as he tried to sip the tea. The teacup was gripped awkwardly in his hand and being awake was exhausting. He half closed his eyes, leaning his head against Ed’s shoulder with a low whine of pain. 

 “Hey.” Ed soothed, curling his hands around Izzy’s one good one and helping him sip the tea. “I gotcha.” He promises. “You can rest, Iz. That’s an order. That’s all I need you to do, yeah? It’s okay.” Izzy gave a hesitant nod. It had been a long time since he’d properly rested while injured; since he’d been made first mate, he’d usually worked through anything other than life-threatening injuries.

“Is the crew alright?” “Yeah, only cuts and bruises.” Ed assured him. “You’d have been proud of them, Iz; they fought pretty damn well.” “Course they did.” Izzy grunts. “I fuckin’ taught them.” Ed snickered, glancing up as the door creeks open and Lucius peaks in and waves at a scowling Izzy.

“Hey Captain, Captain, Izzy. I uh, the crew was just wondering what we were supposed to do with that kid you brought back? He’s just sort of, Here? Is he a prisoner or what?” Izzy shakes his head, considering getting up for a moment but Ed’s grip tightened and discouraged that idea. 

“Put him in my room for now.” Izzy grunts. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Ed’s grip tightened again and Izzy sighed. “Day after tomorrow. Maybe. Make sure he’s got food and water, yeah?” Lucius nodded and darted off and Ed asked, softly, “Who’s the kid, Iz?” 

Izzy shrugged; his energy was fading quickly and he didn’t protest when Ed rearranged them in bed and plucked the empty tea cup from his hand. He said nothing more, though he obediently ate the little finger food that he was offered til he finally dozed off with his head resting on Ed’s hip, clearly exhausted.

Fang was the next to wander in, though by the time he did, Stede was also sound asleep. Ed was still wide awake just…watching the pair, drinking in the sight of them clean and warm and alive in his bed. Fang hesitated by the door til Ed beckoned him closer. 

“Sorry, Roach sent me with food.” He set the plate down carefully on the end table and glanced down at Izzy with something almost fond on his face. “You see the kid?” “What?” Ed glanced up in surprise and Fang hesitated before he spoke again. “The kid, off the other ship. Scrawny little thing.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Ed glanced down at Izzy again. “Surprised me. Iz hates kids.” Fang gave an incredulous little sound and Ed blinked. “Fang?” “I uh…it’s not mine to…” Fang cuts off when Ed gives him a Captain Look. “Right. Uh. You know Izzy fucking Loves kids, right?” 

“What?” “That’s why he never hires ‘em. Too risky on ships. They get hurt, get killed, too often. You’ve let him hire for years now; he always gets ‘em coin and sends ‘em on their way.” “But what about during raids?” Ed tilts his head in confusion. Fang flushes. “I don’t…” “Fang.” Ed sighs. “You’re not going to fucking get him in trouble, no one is getting in trouble. Please man?” 

Fang gave one more long look at Izzy before he said, quietly, “He never kills the kids. Never has, long as I’ve known him. He keeps ‘em til the next port, gives them some money, and hopes. Only one he’s ever kept is Ivan.” Ed blinked at him and Fang sighed.

“Right. That was when you were…occupied. Ivan was a rat, tiny little fucking thing. I think he was like…twelve or thirteen, but he was already a feral little bastard. Wouldn’t go when Izzy tried to get him to. Izzy took a liking to him, didn’t have the heart to make him. That was what, a solid fuckin’ decade ago.”

There are more words that Fang doesn’t have to say, but he still does. Ed only half listens, already feeling pretty caught up; this boy was eerily similar, by this description at least, to Ivan back then but what keeps Ed’s attention is that Izzy, as Fang talks about him, is so different from the Izzy who Ed knows.

Izzy was brave and tough and smart and wonderful but he…he wasn’t a family man, by any metric. Was protective over his crew, certainly, but not parental. Not soft. That was the sort of thing that Izzy had never allowed himself, in all the years Ed had known him. But maybe…maybe Ed just hadn’t been looking hard enough in a very long time, and that was a terrifying thought. 

“Anyway.” Fang mutters, seemingly recognizing the signs of Ed being in a contemplative mood as he scuffs a toe against the planks under one foot. “I uh, I best be off. Roach said to tell you he’s baking a cake.” And then he was gone, and it was just Ed, the sleeping forms of Stede and Izzy, and his thoughts. 

It was strange, to not just be allowed to rest but to be ordered to. Ed was loathe to even let Izzy out of bed for anything more than a piss, quick to drag Izzy back into his arms or to nudge him at Stede. Izzy wanted to protest, to point out that he absolutely could work even while injured and had done it many times, but the one time he had said that Ed and Stede had both gotten so fucking sad about it that it hadn’t been worth it. 

He did, a few days later, make his way down to his quarters. The kid was sitting on the floor, staring intently at the door, and fucking hell Izzy really hoped he’d moved there when he’d heard him coming and not just…thought he wasn’t allowed. “You can get on the bed.” he’d said, just in case.

“You want to get off at the next port, you can. You want to stay, you can do that, too.” It was the same offer he’d made Ivan, once. He rather suspected this boy would make the same choice. “What’s your name?” “Leo.” he whispered hoarsely. “Alright. You can sleep here. C’mon.” He beckoned; the lad stood, and Izzy made a note to get him some better fitting clothes, and boots especially, at the next port.

Leo looked a little nervous, but didn’t protest, as Izzy led him up onto the deck and gave a sharp whistle to summon the rest of the crew. To his quiet delight they approached at once; he really didn’t understand what had suddenly changed to cause them to actually fucking listen, but he was not about to question it.

“This is Leo, he’ll be joining the crew. Fang, Ivan, let him shadow you. He better not fuckin’ get hurt, you hear?” Lucius raised a hand and Izzy sighed but nodded for him to speak. “Did you run this by Captain Bonnet?”

Izzy blinked. Did he need to? Back on the Queen Anne, he had been the one who made effectively any and all decisions regarding crew. He’d recruited them, he’d trained them, he’d commanded them and assigned them. He’d buried them. It had been a long time since he’d even considered asking for Ed’s input on crew because Ed never gave it.

But Bonnet might care. On the other hand, he’d just told this kid he could be part of the crew, and Izzy was not about to look like a liar, so he gave a sharp nod and said “of course.” before dismissing them back to their chores. He waited just long enough for Fang and Ivan to approach the teen before vanishing back into the Captain’s quarters.

Ed and Stede both looked up as Izzy strode, because if he didn’t go now he was going to lose his desire to ask at all, up to them and said very bluntly “What the fuck are we?” “What?” “Darling, what do you mean?” Izzy sighs, slumps down onto the chaise as both of them stare at him. 

“The boy is staying.” The sudden change of topics clearly confuses the two captains, they full on turn to glance at each other, but in the end they both nod. “Of course, Israel, if you think he’d be a good addition I trust your judgement entirely. But…what was that you were saying, a moment ago darling?”

“I don’t know what we are.” Izzy whispers. “You…you’re my captains, I get that, but are we together now? Do you…you keep touching me and kissing me and saying you want me and that’s great but what happens when I question a decision you make as my captains? What happens when we don’t agree about ship stuff and you…you decide…” his voice catches on tears he doesn’t let fall.

Izzy has been forgotten, before, to the depths of Edward’s depression yes but also to his role. He loves his job, it’s a part of him in ways that Izzy knows he won’t ever be able to untangle, and frankly he doesn’t want to. But he’s still so fucking scared, in a way he doesn’t know how to put into words, that those things just..can’t be separated. That he can’t be both Izzy and First Mate Hands, not to himself and not to them.

But Izzy doesn’t know how to say any of that. It’s fortunate, really, that when he opens his eyes (When had he even shut them? He wasn’t sure), Stede and Ed are staring at him looking absolutely broken-hearted. Well, fuck. He hadn’t…meant to say that, not like that. 

Ed slid to his knees with a slight grimace, grasping Izzy’s uninjured hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Iz.” He breathed. “I…fuck, Iz. No. Of course you can have both.” He breathed, pressing his free hand to Izzy’s jaw, “Baby…fuck. I love you. Of course you can have both.”

“Ed is right, darling.” Stede sat down next to Izzy, coaxing him to turn so they were eye to eye. “Of course you can have both. It might be challenging, for all of us, to separate those roles sometimes but we can do that. We can do it, together, all of us, my darling. Please.”

“We want you Iz.” Ed rasped. “All of you. I love you. I think I’ve always loved you, even when we were shit to each other. All that other shit, I don’t fuckin’ care. We’ll make it work. Okay?” 

Izzy could feel tears welling up in his eyes again and fuck, these two sappy idiots were going to make him soft so fucking easily. They made it sound so easy, like the storybooks Bonnet loved to read his crew where Love was somehow the most important thing in the world.

Izzy had always scoffed at those stories, at the idea that love could somehow overcome monsters or demons or just…regular old pirates with swords. Love meant nothing, not here. Not ever. Izzy’s mother had loved his father, once. It hadn’t stopped his father from hating her, and the boy she’d birthed. It hadn’t meant anything, not really. 

Hell, he’d loved Edward for as long as he could remember, and that hadn’t exactly been painless either. But now…now Edward was here, was on his fucking knees asking to be allowed to love Izzy. Asking to be allowed to give Izzy everything he’d ever wanted. No one could be strong enough to resist that. 

“If you don’t want me” Ed began, a little shaky, and Izzy couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the sentence so he cut his captain off with a kiss. 

“What the fuck .” he snarled once he reluctantly pulled back to breathe, makes you think that I could ever stop wanting you?” Ed gave a quiet sound of sheer relief, clambering up into Izzy’s arms and smushing him just a little in order to kiss him as soundly as he could. 

Stede made a delighted sound and Izzy, reluctantly, forced himself to move just enough to grab Stede by his collar. Stede gave a surprised little “eep!” as Izzy hauled him in and then they were kissing. It was interesting, Izzy thought, how different it was; Stede kissed so much more gently. 

Ed kissed him like the ocean, wild and chaotic and biting, literally when he nipped at Izzy’s lips. But Stede kissed softly; sweetly, like the light fabrics he loved, or the little pastries that Izzy had found himself being offered at just about every meal. He couldn’t even be that angry about it, because Roach’s cooking was so fuckin good .

Stede pulled back and Izzy grumbled but didn’t protest. “Is that a yes, darling?” He murmurs and Izzy rolled his eyes. “Made it pretty fucking clear.” he grumbled and Stede laughed softly. “I just. I’d like to hear it, please darling?” Just…I just need to hear it.” 

Izzy took a shaky breath and they were both fucking staring at him as he choked out, “Y…yeah. I. I want you. Of course I fucking want you, both of you idiots. Please.” His voice broke and both captains reached for him and Izzy, sore and trembling and frightened in a way he hadn’t been in a long time, fell into their arms and let the way they held him wash away the last of his doubts.

A week or so after the return from being kidnapped, Izzy walked back up onto the deck for his first day of being back on duty. He’d been fine for days, or so he’d argued, but he couldn’t argue too hard when Ed and Stede refused to let him leave their bed since now the bed was considerably more fun than it had been priorly.

The deck wasn’t spotless, but it was far cleaner than he’d expected. Fang and Ivan were both near the mast with Leo, Frenchie, and the Swede. As Izzy watched, Fang glanced up from the knot that Ivan was demonstrating and gave him a little wave.

Izzy wandered the railing, sipping his cup of coffee and contemplating who had earned barnacle duty. Wee John was mending a sail with Lucius and Pete, although Izzy was very aware that Lucius hadn’t taken his eyes off of him since he’d come up on deck.

To hell with it. He leaned back, deliberately dragging a hand over his neck to adjust his cravat in such a way that it showed off the two rings on it. He heard Lucius’ intake of breath even across the deck, allowed himself a moment to smile before he lifted his head to stare at the ship on the horizon and, after a quick whistle to get the crew’s attention, started to speak.