Chapter Text
“Iz, get me back up there. I’m changing the plan.” The man down the side of the ship called up again when there was no response to his first attempt.
He stood on that little rowboat next to The Revenge, balancing on well-practiced legs with the rocking of the water beneath his craft. He'd just finished paddling back to the ship from Bridgetown, from his messy interaction with Mary and Doug. Just having come to the conclusion that he hadn't actually come to a conclusion in the first place. He'd decided Stede wasn't coming back, and then he decided that it didn't matter, and then he decided that he had to do the great big terrible things he dreaded, all to decide that maybe he'd had it wrong. Maybe he'd jumped the gun when he first decided that Stede was never coming back.
So he returned. Returned to his ship to course correct and find the little blonde man that must've been hopelessly drifting out there on the open water. To decide he couldn't call anything concluded until they spoke.
And there were, truth to say, a thousand things Stede might've meant to say. The captain standing on the deck of The Revenge had many questions he had to ask. He knew he even had so many he needed to answer for Ed himself. At least a dozen dreams and wishes he wanted to share.
But, at that moment, there was only one sentiment that came to mind.
“Izzy’s unavailable,” Stede spoke. Having come over to the railing, and looked down at where Ed stood.
When Ed looked up at him, surprised by the voice he'd heard, he saw a look in Stede's eyes he’d never imagined before. It wasn’t as joyous an expression as he’d hoped for, if he was honest. It wasn’t a wild rage like when they’d practiced intimidation, nor could he really call it cold. It wasn't detached. But it wasn’t good. Wasn't a warm welcome.
"Stede…" Ed whispered, before he even realized how badly he'd wanted to say his name.
But in response, the man's expression flinched. His eyebrows knit up and came together a bit. Like it hurt to hear his name on Ed's lips. Like it scorned him. And, suddenly, all the hope Ed had saved from his talk with Mary began to turn dark.
He wasn’t going to be so graciously received and brought into Stede’s arms with a loving explanation sealed in a kiss.
He was unsure that he was going to be received at all. Maybe Stede was going to just send him away with a grim revelation that his men had slain Ivan, Fang, and Izzy in the reclamation of the ship. And then he'd really have been cast aside and left behind, truly alone.
Ed was frozen in his place. Took a moment before he bit back the fear that had begun to bubble up in his chest. Had to settle himself to ask,“ You’re here... But you left?”
That expression - of which Ed could only think to call disappointment - warmed a bit. “I came back,” Stede told him.
“You’ve reclaimed the ship,” Ed said matter of factly, not really knowing what else there was for him to say on the subject.
“Yes. It’s surprisingly easy to retake a ship when the marooned crew you gathered outnumbers those left on the vessel. Even easier when you arrive and there’s really only one person who even wants to keep your men off of it…” There was the ghost of a joke there. Like maybe they could laugh about the easy odds Stede found if the situation were anything but what it was. If they weren't posed opposite each other, more like enemies than lovers. “Izzy’s fine, by the way- We didn't- He's hogtied in the ballroom and probably in a terrible mood, but he's fine.” Stede was quick to assure him all the same.
Ed couldn't think of much to say besides,“ Alright.”
“I suppose it is…”
A silence sat between them. Stede looking down. Ed looking up. A distinct lack of sureness in each of their next steps. They'd made it through bare-bones greetings. But there was really so much to unpack.
“I’m not really sure what to do here, Ed-” Stede’s voice caught in his throat, a hitch as he realized he had to ask,” Are you still using Ed?”
And wasn't that a great question?
“I wasn’t,” he told him honestly,” Not sure where I’m at now.”
He liked using Ed, even liked the way Eddie fit a time or two, but he'd been just Blackbeard for weeks. Mary used Ed but that was a whole other situation of its own. What should he want Stede to call him?
“May I use Ed?” Stede eventually asked.
But that desperate whisper of “Yes” passed his lips in a sudden but barely there mutter. Before he really knew that was the answer. Said on instinct, and so quiet it was almost a surprise that Stede even heard it at all.
"Okay," he agreed. However, he didn't get right into anything after. He seemed more like he was waiting for Ed's next move.
But, again, the pirate let a void fall into place of conversation. Ed didn't seem to know exactly what to say. Neither did Stede, but Stede just couldn't stop talking. He’d never been good at not talking.
He eventually broke, asking,“ Can you come aboard? I think Lucius might still want to keep some distance, but we can at least speak face-”
“Lucius?” Ed's eyes widened and he jumped at the mention,” He’s…?”
Stede felt his lip quiver for a moment,“ Yes, he’s fine, too. We found him while we were getting back to The Revenge so... So, he’s fine, just not "fine" fine. Still wanting of space, I believe.”
A tiresome weight lifted off of his shoulders. That guilt that was buried into his stomach like a fifty-pound knife had started to ease off. He could see the panicked eyes of the scribe as he fell over the edge of the balcony all the time. It never really left him. Like a specter haunting every horrid choice he'd made from that moment forward.
“I’ll come aboard.” Ed decided. The phrase 'ready to face the music' sat in his mind.
Pete was the one to go to the railing. To join Stede in looking down upon the man who used to be a legend in his eyes. And he was the one to push over the rolled-up rope ladder. So much angry strength in the shove that it unfurled harshly and with a rough clatter against the ship hull. Almost could've hit Ed on the way down.
He didn't exactly fault the man for feeling that way. Just allowed himself a wary hesitation and a tug to make sure it was well attached, and then Ed started to climb. For a second, he wondered if his mother would've equated it to going up the silver stairs to meet his judgment. As he stepped over the edge and planted his feet back on The Revenge's deck, the stakes felt similar. And he suddenly felt like he didn't even know where to look, who to dare look at.
He ended up running his gaze over the ship itself. It looked different at that moment from when he'd left.
In the haze of all the raids, he wasn't really paying attention too much. At least he wasn't trying to. He was pretty sure there were weapons just kind of strewn about the upper deck, they've been since put away. The random piles of stuff they nabbed were gone too. The straps of leather and spikes they'd stretched over beams were tossed in with some of the netting. The flag was changed. It was back to the four he'd had taken down. Hadn't even noticed that part as he'd approached the ship.
He wondered what Stede did with his broken-hearted banner...
The most obvious change to the ship though, was the crew on it. Course, when he took off for Barbados on his own, he was only leaving behind a few. Now all the others were back. And the way they looked at him... it made his skin itch. Like he was being paraded past spectators wearing uniforms of furrowed brows, set frowns, and clenched fists.
No one came to him though. He just stood there awkwardly for a moment before deciding he should probably walk towards Stede, at least. To await his sentencing by their captain's hand. But it all felt so... wrong. He almost wished the crew had clobbered him over the head or bound his arms behind his back. Wished they were forcing him where to go so it could be over and out of his hands how it went. But neither of those things happened. They just stood around him, onlooking as he crossed the deck, feeling far too much in far too many different ways.
He'd never felt like that on The Revenge. Not to that degree.
And then Ed found Pete's eyes. His fury for the man who used to be a hero to him was palpable in the air. Like the whole world became heavier when Edward caught the expression. And when Pete saw Blackbeard's eyes, his anger set deeper. Harder. Ed pulled his vision away and back to Stede as he found himself just a few yards away. He looked at him and he seemed to have saddened in the moments as Ed grew closer.
"You don't look well. Tired." Stede commented.
Ed stopped approaching. Only answered him with the simple fact," Haven't slept in a bit."
And Stede felt like his heart was in stitches, still being pulled in different directions. He wanted to talk through everything. He wanted to figure it all out and fix it. To get back to the fun and perfection of those early days.
But, he didn't know if anything could be fixed, or if he would just make it worse, or if he was being naïve to hope, or if he was hurting his crew by wanting to try-
He just didn't know. And looking at Ed? Covered in the black smears, having tried to make himself a figment of horror, and yet, under all that mess, there were bags under his eyes. And he slumped in his stature. His feet dragged under the weight of his body. He seemed paler than he should've been. He didn't even seem so well balanced on his feet as he usually did.
How was he supposed to know what to do when, despite all the confusion, he just wanted to ask Ed if he was alright?
The crew watched. Waited for him to say something, to make some sweeping decision about everything. But all he could muster were the stutters.
"I... I- I don't...”
Stede took in a shaken breath to try and steady himself to a resolve. Any resolve, really. If he could just decide how he felt, whichever way it was, he would take the clarity over his constant wavering. Had they just had a little bit more time, maybe he could've put it to a vote. Stopped and asked everyone how they felt instead of only having Buttons's recommendation at his back.
“Captain?” Oluwande asked, easily having caught that he was struggling.
“I- I… I don’t think- I can't do this right now. I- just…" Stede barely managed. He turned his gaze away from Ed because looking at him and not knowing what to do hurt. It hurt so terribly much.
"What?" Ed asked as his face fell. He was sure he must've resembled a kicked puppy more than a Kraken.
Stede did not leave Ed to view his profile. He turned around completely and braced himself against the railing," I just- I need a minute. Please."
He was overwhelmed. All the times he thought on it did nothing to prepare him. He didn't know how to open up everything. How to ask and demand answers, how to offer up his own, how to take everyone's pain into proper account without having had the chance to ask them all individually because he had also been so incredibly worried they'd ask him to show no mercy.
Ed only bit down on his lip to try and still its quivering. It wasn't very effective, though no one was really looking at him anymore to notice. They all had eyes on Stede. Ed looked at his back like it was finally time that he had to actually watch him walk away. He almost convinced himself that Stede was going to jump. That the gentleman standing before him would rather fling himself into the saltwater sea than even look at him. He felt like there should be a burning rage of dejection in the pit of his stomach at the idea, or some kind of blinding red running over his eyes, or just… something.
But there wasn’t anything there. Perhaps, it wasn’t wholly accurate to say there wasn’t anything there. There was something… But Ed couldn’t place it, couldn’t really name it. Then he felt his head go featherlight.
Oh.
That’s what it was.
He was feeling faint.
All at once, his eyes slipped shut and his knees gave out under him as he fell into unconsciousness.
Stede might've had his back to him, but when he heard the commotion of Oluwande's more urgently called “Captain!” he turned around to see the man just barely having dove forward fast enough to catch their newly returned guest. Ed was collapsed and completely slack in Oluwande's arms, eyes closed and looking even worse off than he had when he boarded. And the man didn't have him in an entirely secure grip. Before Stede could continue to wrestle with his guilt, responsibility, and desires, he found himself at Oluwande's side. His own hands already working to help hold Ed up.
“What happened?” Stede whispered, more to himself than anyone on the deck as he adjusted Ed’s right arm to sling it over his shoulders.
Oluwande shook his head, and then looked down at the trim of stomach peeking from under all the leather. There was red trailing down his left side.
“I think he’s bleeding,” he offered in explanation.
Stede’s free hand rushed to carefully lift the edge of his jacket further, immediately, he found a new injury on his set of scars. Ed hadn't sewn it up or even pressed some kind of bandage over it, and the open wound hadn’t clotted over yet. It was still slowly spilling out.
Stede automatically clamped the hand over it as soon as he registered what it was. Silently asking himself why he was so stupid that he didn’t notice Ed was bleeding out right in front of him. He just thought Ed was tired.
Roach was the first to step forward from the rest of them,” So, what's the plan?”
“I…” Stede wanted to beg him to fix him up, but even under all his worry for Ed, there was a voice of concern telling him how cruel it was to ask his crew to help the man who hurt them so much.
“It’s your call, Captain. However you want this to go, my hands are yours.” Their medic assured him,” No judgments.”
Stede's lip quivered with worry,“ Patch him up. Please.”
Roach dutifully nodded and started to run under deck,” I’ll go get some thread and needle to suture him with. Where will you put him up for recovery?”
Stede turns his gaze to Ed’s face again, lingering on those heavy bags under his eyes…
“We’ll lay him out on my bed.”
Maybe the correct answer would've been to lock him in the brig - they didn't even have Izzy in there - but Stede wanted him to rest properly.
“I’ll be there in just a moment.”
Roach turned around and continued running off. And no one argued against the course of action. Wee John helped with Ed's legs while the three of them moved him through the hall and into the cabin. Hadn't even had a chance to look at it earlier, but they quickly noticed they were knocking over empty bottles of booze the entire way. But they unloaded him onto the mattress and worked together to get all the leatherwork above the belt off.
They had to yank off the gloves so they could pull down the sleeves, there was a buckle in the way of undoing the front, and the sturdy shoulder bits were their own kind of hindrance to get off. But Stede and Oluwande were able to strip him of his top layers by the time Roach spilled back into the room with an arm full of supplies. Quickly getting a proper look at both sides of the wound. Roach said it wasn't a clean run-through with a blade, more likely something a bit more blunt and jagged, and probably not something sanitary as it looked like it could get infected. He ended up washing it out quite a bit before closing up the front and back and getting his lower torso carefully wrapped.
He said it was as good as he was able to do with it, but Stede would want to keep an eye on him. Told the captain to come get him if Ed started to get a fever, puss around the wound, if it started bleeding again, or excess tenderness with redness or a rash. Really, if anything distinctly turned for the worse, to just start screaming and Roach would rush over. But besides that, the man left them to each other, as did Oluwande and Wee John.
At some point, while Ed had been worked over, his hands were bound together over his stomach. Stede knows he didn't do it, he was in a haze and wouldn't have even thought it was important, but he also didn't notice who it was that did. They'd probably figured it was best to be safe in case Ed were to wake up and lash out. Possibly infected and bleeding out or not, Blackbeard was not someone to underestimate.
Or, at least, that might've been the consensus, but all Stede wanted to do was hold those hands and wait with him. Day or night, he just wanted to sit in that chair at his bedside until he opened his eyes. Spend the quiet alone time trying to figure out what he was supposed to say when he did. How he was supposed to handle him and his crew.
He took the moment to look around the room with more awareness. He lost count of how many discarded bottles were scattered through it. There were knives thrown into a wall beside a series of slashes that Stede recognized to tally up how long he'd been gone. Minus a couple of days as Ed had been away for a bit. There were bits of clothing strewn about without care, toppled furniture, random clusters of riches on the bookshelves… It didn't look much like how Stede had left it.
He looked back to Ed. The man sleeping on the mattress he'd been hidden under just weeks before. The man who nearly collapsed at his feet in a way that reminded him far too much of the Badminton twins. His fingers itched to weave into the space between Ed's, but Stede still felt like he had no right. Couldn't even look him in the eyes before he passed out on the deck.
Stede was getting lost in his mind, staring at those empty hands, when Lucius walked in.
“Sorry to intrude,” he'd said, despite walking right on in without even feigning hesitance at the door.
Stede snapped his attention up and to the man stepping in closer,“ Nothing to intrude on,” he excused him. “Um, what did you need?”
“Just wanted to stop by…” Lucius let the sentence drift off while he looked for a place to sit. Finding the turned-over fainting couch as a good enough option to perch himself against. He kept his eyes on Stede as he sat just across from him,“ Never heard you stutter like that before."
"Not my finest moment, Lucius," Stede admitted bashfully.
Lucius's gaze ran over the men on the bed behind Stede.
“You don't know what to do with him?" he asked. Guessing quite correctly.
Stede sighed. Slumped a little bit further in his cushioned chair. "I...” he started, but he didn't get very far the first time. He tried again,” I don't want to disrespect you all and what he did by forgiving him. But I don't know what to do with myself if I can't." Stede was honest. Slightly ashamed, but honest.
Lucius was quiet as he looked at Ed's sleeping face.
“I’m still mad at him, you know?” he asked simply. Like their situation was simple at all.
“I know.” Stede agreed. “I wouldn’t have expected you not to be. I’m still mad at him too.”
“Good.” Lucius almost seemed to preen with the quipped remark. He leaned back and crossed his legs,” Because he tried to kill me. After everything I did to try and help him, he-!” the boy's eyes closed as he reined himself back,” Just… I am still mad at him. And I might not be able to be not mad at him for a bit. Just wanted to make sure you understood.”
Stede listened completely. And he again agreed with Lucius's sentiment. He began to affirm that belief,“ Of course, Lucius. You don’t have to try to forgive him on my behalf, I would never ask you to. And I won't selfishly ignore what he has done to you in favor of trying to excuse it for myse-”
“Right.” Lucius cut right in, despite the way the Stede seemed like he had more to say about his own reservations. “Because I definitely don’t want to forgive him right away. And I'm not suggesting you try to let him off the hook too quickly. I am not suggesting you do that.”
Lucius was speaking on it in a strange sort of way. Almost like he was, in fact, suggesting that Stede go on with forgiveness without holding back for his sake. Almost like Lucius had mostly forgiven Ed himself, despite no apologies existing between them.
Not that Stede really figured out that much. He was already agreeing again “Absolutely” when Lucius was interrupting him again. Leaning forward and shoving something he must've had tucked into the crook of his crossed arms into Stede's hands. He held the secret, unseen thing in Stede's grip, squeezing with purpose as he emphasized,” BUT! I think there’s still something there.”
A vague enough answer to have Stede's face screwing up as he tried to understand it.
Lucius uncrossed his legs, withdrew his hands, and stood up. Heading for the door of the captain's quarters. Presumably to walk off and get some sleep. As Stede looked down into his clasped hands, he saw Ed's square of red silk. What was it doing there? What was Lucius doing with it and what was he saying by giving it to Stede? He looked from the fabric to Ed's calm resting expression. It didn't make sense.
Stede stood up before Lucius opened the door. He called after him,” What is- Lucius, what do you mean? What does this mean?"
The man's hand fell from its grip on the doorknob. He didn't turn around to look back at Stede, but he gave part of an answer to the second question.
"I found it floating in the water. He must've let it go before he'd pushed me overboard."
Stede didn't understand," Why would he get rid of this?"
“I haven't the faintest clue." Lucius shrugged.
Stede studied him. Dissecting the words he'd said and tried to wrap them up with what Ed abandoning his silk meant. Stede stepped forward, holding that fine treasure up to the light, and he accused Lucius and his intentions,” But you think there’s still something there? Of him?”
The man didn't respond right away. The question was a big one. One that held the weight of Stede's love and possibly Ed's very future. And what evidence did Lucius have to hinge it on?
“He didn’t look right when he did it,” he eventually spoke.
“What does that mean?”
Lucius finally turned around, looked Stede back in his eyes, and explained,“ He didn’t look... satisfied by what he’d been about to do.”
That certainly wasn't enough, so the man stepped back into the room. Taking his place on the back of the couch again. Stede sat down in front of him.
“He called me to the captain's quarters while everyone was finishing up their plans for the talent show. I came in, he was on the balcony, I followed him onto it.” He detailed the clear concise steps as simple facts. He then went softer and sounded more in his head as he continued,” I was talking to him about something, I don’t even remember what it was anymore. But it seemed like he avoided meeting my gaze. Kept dodging me. And then he just... turned it off, I guess? His feelings?” He almost seemed to struggle to define it.
“He looked up at me and his face was all twisted like he really had to force it to look so bitter. And when I asked if there was something wrong? He’d shoved me over after I’d barely got the words off my tongue. I was calling for help from the water when I heard the door slam.”
It was hard to hear it. To picture it so clearly in his head. Stede shook his head,“ Oh, Lucius. That’s horrible-”
“Of course, it was.” Lucius both agreed and brushed the point aside. “But, he wasn’t enjoying it, I mean. He didn’t make a display of it. He didn’t even watch as it happened. He didn’t try to prolong it, didn’t taunt me with a cruel phrase, or even try to make it hurt. He didn’t relish it. Didn’t look one bit happy or proud of his actions. As pissed as I am – and I am pissed – it didn't feel like he wanted to do it. Not really.” He sighed. “I don’t know what happened between announcing the talent show and him calling on my company - though, you're probably right to blame Izzy for it - but I don’t think the man who cried about holding on too long the day before, had truly let anything go. I still wouldn't guess he's let go today.”
“So, you really think he’s in there? Wants to come back?” Stede all but begged for his guidance.
But Lucius couldn't make the whole big choice for him.
“I think you need to decide again. Decide if this one is spat or a rupture.”
Stede reached over, his fingers hanging on the edge of the mattress, and he looked over Ed, one last time before he decided,“ Just a really bad spat?”
And Lucius seemed to like that answer, in the smallest way his expression eased.
“Then it’ll take a really good talk to straighten it out. But I'm sure you're up for it, the great talker that you are.” he gently teased.
The two sat together in the room after that. Comfortable silence in the air instead of the dreadful kind. Stede sort of had Lucius's blessing to keep believing in Ed. To want to come to an amicable agreement by the end. And that assurance made all of it worlds easier to bear considering Lucius was the one he'd hurt the most.
But that wasn't everyone. And Stede, as nervous as he might've been about it earlier, wanted to hear all of them out. There wasn't much that was democratically decided in those days. Much of Stede's own life was left up to the demands others had placed on him. And he was more decided to try and make peace with Ed. But he wanted to hear what his crew had to say about it.
So, Stede asked Lucius if he might gather them up in his room for a moment. For a quick discussion, and just a little bit of help tidying up before some of them went to bed. Lucius said he'd round them all together and bring them in. The captain stood up with him and followed him halfway to the door, but as Lucius exited and made his way, Stede turned to the bookshelves. Specifically, that one built in next to the hidden door of his auxiliary closet.
Stede went over to the left side. It was emptied of his books and filled up with shallow riches. A pearl necklace, gold coins, gems and jewels, fine broaches and rings, paper money, silver chains, a bronze pocket watch… all sorts of expensive wears. But Stede wasn't concerned with those things. He reached up and pushed away a pile of coins into the corner. All that remained was a small, burlap sack. Probably the kind that held some of those coins originally. But the sack was upside down in a way. Its opening was tied shut at the bottom rather than the top. Carefully, he pulled on the rope, and as the bag loosened up, Stede picked it up.
Revealing the small figurine, still wearing its red patterned coat, and still in its spot to trigger the rigging that opened the door. Unharmed. Much was changed, but there were little bits of Stede that Ed let remain. Hidden, but still there.
Stede tipped the figurine forward and the door opened in quick response. And by venturing inside, Stede only found more proof of Ed's sweetness. Almost all the clothes remained on their hangers, carefully protected from the destruction just outside. But, aside from them, there were tresses of fabric on the floor. Crumbled and spun around into the semblance of a nest. The pillows missing from the couch and armchairs rested in it, blanketed by his floral pink robe. He kneeled to run his fingers over its soft texture.
And that wasn't all. There were jars of marmalade and tea cups in the pile. Stede's hairbrush, the painting Mary had done of a lighthouse for their anniversary, and the model of The Revenge, all along with a candelabra and matches. He could practically see Edward there, curled up in the middle of it all late at night in the dark. Only the candlelight illuminating his small hideaway as he surrounded himself with all the little things of Stede he could keep. Stede smiled to himself at the image, maybe teared up a little and wiped his eyes, before he retreated from the closet.
He stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him to keep that secret theirs, and momentarily his crew began to collect in there with him. Stede addressed them all together as they stood before one another. And he asked them for their honest opinions. And they discussed them together. People had their concerns. They were right to. But they all agreed that they'd grown to like Edward before all the recent events took place to change their minds. If Ed honestly wanted to get back to how things were before, or something like it, then they wanted him there.
Which was great news. But as they all assumed that was all and looked around to start resetting the furniture, Stede asked that they wait. Because there was something else he wanted to ask of them.
Stede asked about any dreams they carried.
“What do you guys want to do? What’s something you’ve always dreamed to get or experience?” He asked the entire room.
They all looked at him with confusion. Pete shook his head and asked,“ Why?” Many others muttered along the same question.
“Why you ask? Because I don’t think we’ve been properly taking advantage of our position. Pirating means we do what we want because our ship is our own land and the only rules we follow are our own. Sure, lots of people use the principle to raid, and pillage, and kill without a care. But that isn't all that we can be. The world told each and every one of us what we were allowed to be long, long ago. And we all told the world we didn't care as we went to the sea. So, we don’t have to just steal and maim. We can want for more. For the things we talked ourselves out of realistically expecting.” Stede argued. And he looked around them all again,” So, what do you want?
Because these were his people, and after everything was done - whichever way it went - he wanted them all to start going after whatever insane things they dreamed about. They've never done pirating “correctly” and they shouldn't really have to start. Instead, there had to be desires they'd held closely to their hearts in secrecy, the same way that Stede always longed to be a pirate and fall in love. Stede got his dreams, so they deserved to get theirs too.
Wee John declared that he wanted to get to wear fancy clothes. A proper ballgown, big and fluffy and elegant. So Stede swore they'd find some in his size, or find the perfect seamstress to fix one up. Jim made mentions about removing a certain pair of appendages that they never really enjoyed having all that much. Roach figured he could handle the responsibility, and Stede said he'd get whatever supplies he asked for to do it. Roach wanted to make a recipe book, and not just one for himself and his kitchen. He wanted other people to read his words and follow his advice. So it was promised they'd make a copy and find some way to publish it. Even distribute themselves if they had to.
They ran through everyone's ideas. Some had missions they wanted to do, like freeing slave boats or sharing riches like Robin Hood. Some had more hijinks they wanted to put together like fuckerys and there was talk of sneaking into another rich people party, but as a whole crew the second time. Someone even spoke about trying to host one themselves. Some had hobbies they wanted to try, food they wanted to taste, and places they wanted to see. And it was no one's surprise when Fang said he wanted a dog.
As the last person yet to say his piece, they all looked at Lucius. The boy claimed he didn't know what he wanted. Not in the big, making plans sort of sense. He lived very moment to moment. Maybe he wanted to start wearing jewelry. Who was to say?
Stede only promised him that he had all the time in the world to think about it. Because they were all still going to be together the next day, and hopefully all the days after it. And they could continue to add to their bucket lists as long as they lasted.
Which seemed like a pretty good way to look into the future.
They all dismissed themselves after that. And after a little rearranging of the captain's quarters. They all left with a couple of empty bottles in their arms to clear them out as well.
And Stede was left to look after Ed. Deciding he'd watch over him, like Ed did for him before they even knew each other. He didn't plan on sleeping until they'd had a chance to know each other again.