Work Text:
Wanted
Whumptober prompt: Interrogation (day 9)
“I’m only gonna ask this one more time,” the pirate named Henry Bones asked with a sneer. He paced in front of the crew, looking them up and down one at a time as he passed. “Where. Is. Blackbeard.”
Stede turned to Ed. Despite the way it made the bindings cut into his wrists, he was happy he did. The look that Ed was giving the pirate captain was enough to make him smile despite their situation.
“Look, mate,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve been telling you: I’m right here.”
Captain Bones growled. He snatched the wanted poster out of his lackey’s hands and shoved it in front of Ed’s face.
“Does this man look anything like you? You’re soft. Your face is as clean as a baby’s bottom. So stop. Wasting. My. Time.”
He flicked the paper in Ed’s face as a final warning. But Ed wasn’t good at listening to final warnings. Or any warnings, really. He really wasn’t used to people giving him warnings.
“Listen, Harry Balls-”
“Henry Bones!” The Captain cried, stamping his foot.
“Whatever,” Ed waved him off, “I really am Blackbeard. And I’d appreciate it if you got off my ship and let us leave. We’ve got a show to catch at seven O’clock and if we don’t get out of here soon-”
Captain Bones unsheathed his sword. At first, he brought it to rest at the base of Ed’s neck. The point touched his skin, nearly poking through enough to bleed. But Ed only slank back enough to loosen the tension in his bindings. He raised his chin and kept his eye directly on Bones’.
Bones growled again, baring yellowed, broken teeth. Then he stepped away to stand again in front of Stede.
Stede gulped at the sight of the sword in Bones’ hand.
“Captain Bonnet,” the pirate projected his voice so that it carried across the ship to the crewmembers trapped on the other side of the deck. “I will ask you one more time.” He brought the sword tip to Stede’s throat. The metal tickled his stubble enough to run a shiver down his spine. “Where is Blackbeard?”
Stede swallowed. His Adam’s apple touched the edge of the sword, cutting a small nick into his neck.
“I don’t know.”
Captain Bones smiled his sneering, carious smile and took a step back. He sheathed his sword, and Stede relaxed back onto his haunches. His arms dropped back to his sides so that the ropes no longer dug into his wrists.
“You know,” said Bones, “I’m almost glad you said that.” He turned to a spot behind Stede and Ed’s heads. “Bring the coals!”
A metal cauldron was rolled across the decking. As crewmembers saw the contents, Stede heard them grunt and gasp. A morbid curiosity took hold until Stede finally saw the cauldron up close.
He gulped back the bile in his throat.
“Now,” Captain Bones snatched a poker someone had set into the hot coals from the kitchens. “Where is Captain Blackbeard?”
Stede’s mouth moved wordlessly. His eyes were locked on the bright red end of the poker, growing ever so steadily nearer and ever so steadily hotter. But as Captain Bones loomed over him, he clamped his mouth shut. He gave the pirate his best glare; something he had been practicing with Izzy.
And then, as the poker suddenly touched his shoulder, he saw white.
A scream tore out of his throat, blinding him to everything for an eternal moment. When he next came to consciousness, his head had drooped down to face the deck and his wrists stung with the force that he had pulled on his bindings. He didn’t dare think about the smell wafting up from his burnt shirt; his burnt flesh. Nor the impossible pain radiating out from a small point just below his collarbone.
Behind him, his crewmates were hissing and shouting in sympathy. Some of them were calling his name. Some of them were calling for Captain Bones’ head.
When he finally dared to look up, Stede found Edward’s eyes locked on Captain Bones with so much malice he shivered.
“No?” Captain Bones asked, stabbing the poker back into the cauldron. “Still protecting him?”
“I’m not-” Stede broke off with a gasp over a wave of pain. He shut his eyes and then, shakily, continued, “I’m not going to help you.”
“Stede,” Edward said. The softness in his voice almost broke Stede’s resolve.
But honestly, Captain Bones had made up his mind. Even if he was told the truth, he wouldn’t believe it. He believed that Blackbeard, the foreboding figure of myth and folklore, was a monster. Stede would not waste his time and energy trying to argue with someone like that.
“Go ahead,” he told the Captain. “Do what you -”
His words broke off with a screech. Bones had jabbed the poker against his thigh. He held it there as Stede’s shout turned into a long whimper. When the trousers began to crisp, Bones raised the poker and set it back into the cauldron.
Stede’s body went boneless, held only by the restraints tying his arms behind his back.
He must have lost consciousness, because when he next opened his eyes, all Hell was breaking loose.
The crew was fighting like the sea dogs they were. Swords were clanking, ropes were tying men to poles and tying others to anchors. Punches hit their targets. Pirates scurried off of the ship, some of them jumping clear off of the side to avoid the melee.
Stede closed his eyes against the chaos. It was hard to think of anything beyond the constant ache in his shoulder and his leg. Tears dripped down his face despite his best attempts to stop them. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to whine about his pains. He wanted to face this like…like what everyone said a man should face things like. Head up. Shoulders back. Show no fear. Show no emotion.
But he did have fear. He did have emotion. Pretending otherwise was not going to help him. It wasn’t going to make his leg stop burning or his shirt stop smelling like freshly cooked meat.
So Stede cried. He bent his chin against his chest and he let the tears fall as they willed.
At least, until he heard a familiar voice.
“I am Blackbeard, mate,” Edward’s low, sinister voice said.
He was facing Captain Bones, who was tied to a mast and wearing an expression of pure terror.
“Do you believe me now?”
“Yes!” Captain Bones cried. “Yes, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Blackbeard!”
Ed raised his pistol to Bones’ head. The man shut his eyes tightly against his fate, pulling his head as far back into the mast as he could.
“Ed,” Stede called. His voice was weaker than he wanted, but it reached Edward all the same.
Ed’s head spun round to face him, though his pistol stayed fixed on Bones’ head.
“Stede!” He released a breath of relief.
“Ed, leave him.”
“But-”
“Please?”
At Stede’s pitiful expression, Edward satisfied himself with a pistol whip to Bones’ cheek. The man was out cold in an instant, but still breathing. Edward spat at his shoes, then stashed his gun away and hurried to Stede’s side.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, holding Stede’s face with both hands before reaching back to undo his bindings. “I didn’t-”
“It’s-it’s fine, Ed.” Stede grimaced as Edward worked.
The bindings had cut deep, biting gashes into his wrists. But Ed was gentle. As the ropes fell away, he grasped Stede’s arms above the injuries and gently guided them down to his sides. Without the support of the ropes, Stede’s body slipped toward the floor. Edward was there to catch him as he fell, supporting his head and torso all the way down to the floorboards.
Cradling Stede in his lap, Ed tapped an open palm against his cheek.
“You with me, mate?” Ed asked
“Yeah,” Stede grunted. “Still here.”
Ed sniffed over his own tears. He brushed Stede’s hair back, out of his eyes, and looked him over with increasing worry. When his eyes landed on his thigh, exposed slightly through the charred fabric, he swallowed back a gasp.
“I’ll make that fucker pay.”
“Wait, Ed,” Stede forced his eyes open to meet Ed’s. “Stay.”
Ed went to argue. But then he settled himself more comfortably on the floor. He straightened out his bag leg, and used the other to prop Stede up, resting his head on his lap. His fingers ran soothing lines through his hair.
“Alright,” Ed acquiesced. “I’ll stay.”