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I'll Stop the World and Melt with You
Whumptober Prompt: Heat Stroke (Day 17)
Edward had, perhaps, made a mistake. And, perhaps, now the crew was glaring daggers at his back. It was whatever, though, because their glares didn’t sting half as much as the damn sun burning his neck, his arms, his eyes.
But Stede was happy.
“Come on, crew!” Stede called happily to the pirates sauntering after him, kicking up sand that got into each other’s eyes with every step.
“Captain?” Black Pete dragged his shoes through a mound of sand, “Can we go back to the ship now?”
“Now?!” Stede’s eyebrows drew together in horror. “Our adventure is just getting started!”
“Um, actually,” Frenchie swatted a fly away from his ear, “We’ve been walking for, like…a really long time.”
“Five hours,” Lucius confirmed. He swallowed hard, eyes burning through Stede’s skull.
“Oh,” Stede deflated. “Has it really been that long?” He grinned. “They do say time flies when you’re having fun.”
Roach sat on a downed tree trunk and put his head in his hands.
“This has been the longest day of my life.”
“Same,” Oluwande agreed.
Stede cast his eyes over his tired shipmates. Or, today, island-mates. He’d had a whole day planned: explore the possibly-deserted-island, make a fire, tell stories, go fishing for dinner. They’d only mapped out a fraction of this wondrous place, he was sure of it.
“Come on, guys!” he said cheerfully. “Don’t you want to discover a new species of turtle? Or be the first person on the island to say ‘Hello, welcome to the island!’?”
“Mm,” Wee John cocked his head to the side, “How do we know we’re the first people on the island though?”
The crew murmured amongst themselves with phrases like ‘Oh true’ and ‘good point’ and ‘We fucking don’t’. Finally Lucius turned to Stede.
“It sounds a bit…European colonizer, to be honest.”
Jim nodded. “It is very European colonizer.”
“Oh.” Stede frowned sharply. “Now that you mention it…”
“Look, Captain,” Oluwande set a hand on Stede’s arm. “We appreciate the day out. But I think we’re all ready to go back to the ship now.”
The crew nodded along, turning Stede’s frown into one of resignation. His head drooped slightly as he started to walk back through the crew, back the way they came so many hours ago. Edward couldn’t stand the sight. Suddenly angered, he threw his knife hard enough to pierce the tree just behind Black Pete. Pete hit the deck, hands flying up to cover his head.
The crew went silent and still. All eyes focused on Ed.
“We keep walking,” he said simply.
Wide eyes met other wide eyes. And then the crew suddenly straightened up, murmuring things that much more resembled ‘Alright’ and ‘Yeah’ and ‘Good idea, actually. I’ve been wanting some more exercise’.
Stede met Ed’s eye and smiled gratefully.
. . . . . .
But now it was afternoon and Ed was hot and even the sight of Stede in his loose navy shirt and his fitted black pants belted with red fabric wasn’t enough to keep him going. The sun had only gotten brighter, burning the leather into Edward’s body until he swore it had fused with his skin. The crew were walking slowly and sharing a limited water supply and God it was so hot. It was like walking on fire to walk on this sand.
“Stede,” Edward caught up with him and latched a hand around his arm.
When Stede turned to meet his eye, he looked as exhausted as the rest of them. Maybe even worse. The words caught in Edward’s throat. Damn, Stede was sweaty. Sweaty and pale and breathing rapidly. Not in a hot way. In a this-is-getting-kind-of-scary way.
“We need to stop,” he lowered his voice, keeping their conversation private and locking eyes with Stede so he knew he was serious. “We still have to walk all the way back.”
“I know.” Stede ran his arm across his forehead, grimacing at just how much sweat rubbed off onto his wrist. “I’m sorry. I think I got carried away.”
“That’s alright,” Edward lied. “We’ll just start heading back, yeah?”
Stede nodded. He spun round to face the opposite direction; to walk back across the hot sands and through the dense, though wholly unshaded, shrubbery that littered the island. But as soon as he turned, he staggered. He caught himself on a nearby tree and bowed his head down, breathing in and out shakily.
The entire crew jumped at the sight, rushing forward with open arms as if to catch him from ten feet away. But only Edward actually touched Stede, setting a hand on his back. His worried eyes danced across his form, catching on the pink, burned skin exposed to the sunlight.
“I’ve got you.”
“Ed,” Stede choked, then swallowed hard. “I feel dizzy.”
“Why don’t we sit. Yeah?” He slowly guided Stede down onto his knees, then to a seated position on the coolest bit of ground he could find. “There we go. That’s better.”
Stede took in slow breaths that hiccuped slightly in his chest. Edward maneuvered him against the tree to steady him in case he decided to keel over. His eyes darted around the crew, still staring at their captain like he had sprouted a second head.
Ed snapped, “Where’s the fucking - the fucking water?”
“Er,” the Swede passed over the light canteen. “It is nearly empty.”
“Well, he’s getting the rest of it.”
Nobody argued against him.
Well, nobody except Stede.
“Ed, no, I can’t.” He shook his head even as his eyelids fluttered and he winced over the feel of a migraine coming on. “I’m the captain. I made you all come out here.”
“And you’re the only one who’s got heat exhaustion.”
“Well,” Black Pete tilted his head. “I might-”
Edward’s glare shut him up.
“Come on, Stede,” Ed pressed the canteen against Stede’s mouth. “Drink.”
Stede huffed, but he took a sip regardless. After just one sip, he breathed out a satisfied hum. The crease in his brow softened.
Edward pulled the canteen away and closed it as tightly as he could to preserve the last sip of water. This stashed away, he brought his hand up to touch Stede’s throat. His pulse was fast, and very faint. Edward dropped his hand again and released a sigh.
“We’re not going back to the ship today.”
When the crew groaned in protest, he flashed a scary look across all of them.
“Any complaints and you’re getting tied to a tree on the beach.” He took in a steadying breath, and then restarted. “We’re going to find the shadiest spot on this island and make a camp. Can you do that? Nevermind. We’re doing it.”
With that, he latched his arms under Stede’s and hoisted him to his feet.
“Up you get.”
Stede’s eyes went wide at the sudden change, and he slumped against Ed. Ed settled his arm over his shoulder and supported him with his good leg.
When Edward started forward, he took on more of Stede’s weight than he had planned. He spared a quick glance to the man and found him breathing quickly again, wincing over every glare of sunlight that hit his eyes.
“Still with me?” he asked gently.
“I think so.”
Ed squeezed Stede’s arm tighter and marched onward. The crew of the Revenge followed without an argument.
Well, without an argument that Edward could hear.
. . . . .
Ed didn’t feel himself taking on more and more of Stede’s weight until he made an awkward step with his bad knee. He hissed at the zing of pain that lanced up his leg, and turned to find Stede’s head practically lolling on his shoulders. He shook him until his eyes widened and his head lifted, glancing around himself as if realizing where he was.
“Ed?”
Stede’s voice was small and choked and it gave Edward pause. He stopped in his tracks and grabbed Stede’s jaw to turn his face toward himself. Stede’s eyes were glazed over, panic nestling in the center of the irises.
“E-Ed, I feel-”
Stede went boneless so suddenly that Edward had to rush to readjust his hold on him and keep him somewhat upright.
“Stede?”
Stede’s breaths rolled out of him like a man that had carried a boulder up a mountainside. He latched a hand onto Edward’s arm and sucked in a breath as his eyes opened again.
Edward eased him onto the ground, dropping with him until they both crashed to their knees. There, despite the ache he knew he’d be feeling for the rest of the week, Edward rested Stede on his lap.
“Hey, hey,” he hushed, “I’ve got you.”
Stede opened his mouth to speak again, but he seemed unable to get the words out. He was breathing so fast and he was so pale and his hand was loosening its grip on Edward’s arm. And now his eyes were rolling back and shit shit shit-
“Stede,” Edward tapped his face with an open palm. “No; Stede! Stay awake. Don’t go to sleep.”
Stede’s eyes fluttered open just once more before they shut again.
This time they stayed shut.
“Hey, hey, no,” Edward smacked his cheek, “No. Stede?! Stede!”
He ran his fingers through Stede’s hair. Shit, his skin was all clammy. He wasn’t even sweating anymore. How had he not realized that Stede wasn’t sweating anymore? He was so fucking hot and not in a good way; in a very, very bad way.
“Water!” Edward looked up, desperate eyes searching the horrified faces of the crew. “Bring me the fucking water.”
Lucius licked his chapped lips.
“We, er,” he stammered, “We only have a few drops-”
“Then give me the fucking few drops!”
Someone passed him the canteen. It was so light it felt empty. Regardless, he popped open the lid and brought it to Stede’s mouth. Carefully, Edward tilted the bottle until a few measly drops of water fell between Stede’s parted lips.
“Come on, man,” Edward threw the empty canteen aside and ran his hands through Stede’s hair. “Come on, we’re in the shade. We’re making a little camp. You’d love a little camp. You have to wake up to see it.”
Roach took a very tentative step forward. When he spoke, his voice was hardly above a whisper.
“Should we, er-”
“What the fuck are you about to say to me?”
Edward knew he was being too hard on the crew. He also knew that Stede’s skin was way, way too hot and every inch of skin that wasn’t burnt red was much too pale. He knew that Stede was completely unconscious, his body boneless as a ragdoll.
“Er,” Roach stuttered, “Should…should we take off his shirt? It might h-help cool him off.”
“Oh, and the shoes,” Lucius suggested.
Oluwande added, “And the pants?”
The rest of the crew shook their heads at that.
Black Pete said, “I…don’t know if I want to see that.”
Jim nodded. “I know I don’t want to see that.”
Edward held up a hand.
“Alright. Alright! I’ll do this. You all…make camp. Two of you go out and find more water.”
Frenchie raised his hand shyly. “Which two-?”
“I don’t fucking care.”
At that, and the terrifying expression that crossed Edward’s face when he passed a glance over them, the crew hurried to work, eager to escape Blackbeard’s wrath and the sight of their captain so quiet and still. With them working, Edward turned his full attention to Stede. He started on the shirt, pulling the sweat-drenched fabric over his head with some awkward maneuvering. He unwrapped the red belt from Stede’s waist and squeezed it in his hands.
“Stede?” He called, knowing he wouldn’t hear an answer. “You’re gonna be alright.”
Ed dabbed the red fabric against Stede’s forehead, wiping the sweat from his brow. Stede leaned into the contact, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile. Edward’s heart soared.
“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?”
“Mm,” Stede hummed. His smile faded sharply, brow creasing. “‘m sorry.”
“Nah, I don’t really mean that.” Edward wiped the red cloth down Stede’s cheek, then dabbed it on his sweat-shined neck. “I just hate seeing you like this. Takes me back to when we first met.”
“I’ll b’ fine,” Stede slurred. His eyelids fluttered open, though he seemed to struggle to find Edward’s face.
“Yes,” said Edward, “You will.”
Stede grimaced. A sudden burst of sunlight forced him to close his eyes again, tilting his head back into the slight shade of the single tree above.
“I feel awful,” he said.
“I know.” Ed lifted his head.
The crew were crafting a small camp, using the leaves and branches to make a small tent of sorts. Others gathered firewood and insects for their dinner plans. Unfortunately, the two he’d sent for water weren’t back yet. Edward turned back to Stede with a frown.
Stede’s face contorted into an expression Edward couldn’t name.
“I’m sorry,” Stede whined.
“Why do you keep apologizing?”
“‘M the captain. I shouldn’t…shouldn’t put everyone at risk.”
“You’re the only one at risk.” Edward winced.
Stede tilted his head in silent agreement. His eyes stared into space for a moment, drifting off to a place far away. Ed stroked his cheek with his thumb, massaging the skin there until Stede finally met his eyes again with a gentle smile.
“Ed?” Stede’s voice croaked through his throat like a dying frog. “Thank you for putting up with me.”
Ed scoffed, raising his hand to run through Stede’s hair.
“You kidding me? Fuck else would I be doing?”
“Not-” Stede broke off into a cough. “Not doing…this.”
“Stede, save your throat. Your voice sounds like shit.”
A playful light flashed through Stede’s eyes.
“Save my throat…for what?”
Edward rolled his eyes up toward the sky, but he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. When he turned back to Stede, he shook his head.
“We’re not gonna be doing that anytime soon.”
Stede pouted slightly. His eyes drifted closed as he sank deeper into Ed’s lap.
Ed thought to shake him awake again, or maybe shout at one of the crew to find that damn water now or face the wrath of Blackbeard. But no. Stede was going to be fine; he always was. Already, his breathing sounded a little better. He was weak, but he would recover.
So Ed relaxed against the rock behind him. He settled a hand on Stede’s stomach, holding his hand, and another on his head, stroking through his hair. And somehow, despite the agony in his chest and the adrenaline making his body feel like it had run a marathon today, Ed smiled.