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Ed could honestly say that he’d never expected to wake up. He’d thought that his last moments on earth had been spent lying on the deck of his ship, staring up at the crew he’d tried to murder, and feeling relieved .
He wasn’t sure what to do, now that he had woken up.
Certainly wasn’t sure what to do when his eyes focused enough to recognize Stede Bonnet above him, clutching his head and moaning slightly, but still staring at Ed like his life depended on it.
“Ed.” Stede’s voice was choked, and Ed realized that he was crying. “You’re alive .”
He didn’t know what to say. Just shook his head, not able to look Stede in the eyes – not able to look away from him, either.
Stede was back, and it shouldn’t hurt anymore, but fuck, it did .
Finally, he tore his eyes away, looked around. Blinked in surprise.
He recognized the room, of course. The same one where the crew had stashed Izzy. They’d laid Ed out on the crate they’d been using as a makeshift sick bed.
Huh. That was honestly more care than he’d expected for his body. He’d expected them to just throw him over after they were done with him. But here he was.
Ed clenched his jaw, blinked back tears. He’d fucking deserved to be thrown over.
“Ed?” Stede’s voice was cautious, concerned.
“S’posed to be dead,” he rasped.
“Uh… me, or you?”
Ed flinched at the thought of Stede Bonnet dead. Sure, there’d been a moment — when he’d thought he’d kill him, if he ever saw him again — but the thought had been so unbearable it had sent him into a days-long spiral of sobbing and even more booze and drugs than usual. It became clear pretty quickly that, if one of them was gonna die, it’d have to be Ed.
“Me.”
Stede choked on something that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “I… we thought…”
“Yeah,” Ed agreed, when it became clear that Stede wasn’t going to finish. “Me too.”
And then he was shivering, shaking all over, teeth chattering. He was so cold, leathers still damp from the storm, and the hold was musty and dark and so, so cold, even though he didn’t remember it being this cold the last time he’d been down here.
“Oh, Ed! I’m sorry, you need dry clothes, and a blanket, I didn’t think —“
Ed snorted. “Corpses don’t get cold, mate.”
Stede blanched. “Don’t — don’t say that, Ed, please. It’s not funny. Don’t call yourself —“
“Kinda funny.” But Stede was crying again, and Ed winced, reached a hand up towards his face. “Shit, I’m sorry, Stede, don’t cry.”
The problem was, even though Ed knew he was angry, it was very hard to feel that when Stede was leaning over him, sobbing and clinging to him like he would never let him go.
After a few moments, though, he sniffed and wiped his tears, then sat up with a determination that was both so him and unfamiliar to Ed’s eye.
“Right,” he said. “Do you think you can get up? We need to get you into something warm and dry.”
Ed grimaced. “Probably… but… listen. Stede, I — the crew —“
“I know, Ed. They’re all here now. Even Lucius.”
Ed blinked. That… was not actually where he’d been going with that.
But Stede was still talking. “Well, except the Swede, who’s married to Spanish Jackie these days —“
Which was a story Ed was desperately gonna need to hear, but again — not the point.
“No, I mean — I tried to — they’re not gonna want — I mean, if they think I’m dead. Should you… I dunno. Warn them or something?”
Stede froze for a moment, looking unsure. Glanced between Ed and the door.
“I can’t… I won’t leave you again, Ed. I won’t leave you alone down here.”
And he should – Ed thought they both knew that he should, should go up and talk to the crew and warn them that their worst nightmare was about to emerge from the bowels of the ship. But – well. Ed wasn’t going to be the one to insist. Not when he was still gripping Stede’s hand as tightly as he could. Not when he was so cold and exhausted and in pain that he couldn’t imagine being alone even for an instant. Not when – well. The last time he’d been alone and conscious, he… hadn’t made the best of decisions.
So he nodded, and began the painful process of hauling himself upright.
Stede helped him, of course, and his hands on Ed’s back and sides, steadying and supporting him, burned even through the damp leather. And made the rest of Ed’s body feel even colder.
The shivering was getting worse again, and Stede had to help support him up the stairs. His head was spinning, hadn’t stopped since he’d sat up, but the appeal of his bed — Stede’s bed? — was too strong to deny.
Even if he didn’t deserve it.
They didn’t see anyone until they emerged onto deck. It was nighttime, and Ed blinked in surprise. He wasn’t used to not knowing night from day.
The first person to spot him was Jim, who had their knife out and their body between him and Olu before he could even blink. Archie reacted instinctively, then, turning towards the threat before swearing and stumbling backwards. And then all eyes were on him and Stede, and there was a mixture of growls and curses and gasps.
Only Buttons at the helm didn’t seem surprised. “Cap’n,” he said with a nod. “I knew ye weren’t dead. Ye were close, though.”
“Oh my god , Buttons, he’s not our fucking captain!” Lucius’s voice, and Ed was so happy to hear the boy that he could have wept, even if he sounded different than he used to – angrier, harder, but more fragile, like glass. Ready to shatter.
Ed felt the same way.
But then he forgot about Lucius and everyone else entirely, because his eyes had landed instead on Izzy, grasping onto the rail like his life depended on it. Staring right back at Ed.
“Iz.” Ed’s mouth formed the word, but he wasn’t sure if any sound came out.
He couldn’t read the expression on Izzy’s face. Some awful combination of relief and fear and desperate, hopeless despair.
And then Izzy looked away, and Ed nearly swayed with the loss. Hardly understood his own reaction.
Izzy. Standing over him, propped up on Fang. Archie, Frenchie. And Jim, screaming their rage.
“Finally.”
He’d tried to kill them. Every single person on this ship, he’d tried to kill. Even Stede, once.
And then they’d tried to kill him.
Look at them all – a bunch of fucking failures. Murder wasn’t supposed to be this fucking difficult.
No one on deck had moved, except for Izzy, who was staring out across the water. No one said anything.
Eventually, Stede sighed.
“We’ll talk about this later,” he said. “I’m going to get Ed to bed.”
And he turned, and Ed stumbled after him, half supported by Stede still. Managed to make it to the cabin and let Stede shut the door before he lost control, started laughing hysterically. Stede held him through it, held him while the laughter turned to ugly, wrenching sobs and shivers wracked his body.