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This was it. The sword was pressed to bonnets throat. The sun reflected off his golden hair and onto the blade.
It wasn’t as satisfying as Izzy had hoped. Bonnet wasn’t whimpering and begging for life. He stood his ground. His usual twat face twisted into a serious smolder.
Izzy couldn’t wait to wipe that over confident look off. He pushed the blade into the redish pale skin of bonnets neck ready to draw blood.
“Izzy wait.” He hesitated “I never thanked you”
“For what?” Izzy ground out
“For selling us out to the English.”
A gasp came from Izzy’s mouth before he could register the searing pain. The kind of pain that knocks the wind out of you, makes seconds feel like hours. The kind that makes you completely forget what it’s like to not feel.
He looks down to the intricately carved blade handle painted red with his blood. The blade is sheathed inside of him and he can’t see a single glint of silver.
He fell to his knees griping at the handle for dear life. With a firm tug he could hear the squelch of his own blood as it gushed from him. He was too light headed to scream didn’t have fight left in him.
He was ready to die in peace. to let go of this shitty world. Ready to give up. This was his final blow the worst pain he could have ever imagined, and being defeated by bonnet the twat. he looked up. Wanted to meet the eyes of his killer but all he saw was his back and… Ed was running towards Stede smiling, excited, like a fucking school girl. Izzy’s mouth fell open to release a final silent cry to this unforgiving shitty world.
“IZZY”
a cold clammy sweat was all he felt . His body ached as he sat up. It was just a dream. A stupid dream with stupid bonnet.
“IZZY”
Stupid bonnet who turned his life into a living hell. Stupid bonnet who broke his Edward. Stupid bonnet who gave him hope. He missed stupid bonnet and he hated himself for it.
Izzy threw off the thin rag he called a blanket and readied to aid in whatever his captain commanded of him. Always the loyal first mate.
He shot him. Ed fucking shot him. No not Ed. Not his Ed. It was the fucking kraken.
He moved the gun so swiftly, Izzy registered the searing hole in his leg and the smell of his own blood cooking, before what had caused it.
He turned away without a care as Izzy withered on the floor screaming out in pain, holding onto his leg for dear life.
Going over to Frenchie without a blink and telling him to “clean up that mess”.
He stepped over Izzy easily. Not sparing him a glance. Leaving probably to go snort some more fucking rhino horn.
Meanwhile izzy could feel his own blood gushing out as he’s being dragged across the deck. This fucking deck. The fucking revenge.
He looks up and can still see the sword mark in the mast. The one Bonnet was pin to all night after their ‘dual’.
And suddenly he missed the crew, and he missed Stede fucking bonnet.
And suddenly the stupid fucking hidden passage ways that he ridiculed Bonnet for were his savior as frenchie dragged him into one.
The room started to blur in and out of black. he couldn’t scream anymore. Even as frenchie was taking out the bullet. He could feel the fingers and he could feel how they trembled. He knew when the bullet was slowly being dragged against the walls of his muscle and skin. When frenchie lost his grip for a moment and had to dig his fingers around to get a better one. He knew when frenchie was binding bandages over his leg. He couldn’t bring himself to cry as the pressure built and he was floating to black. Izzy could feel it. He could feel everything.
But Izzy had never been so empty.
His longest friend, his best friend had killed him. It was his fault. His fault because he wanted blackbeard back. His Blackbeard. Now he’s unleashed the kraken. And he’s going to watch the world burn. Izzy let himself slip into the black dotting his vision. He was ready to die. He wasn’t ready to see the world burn at the hands of his Ed.
Izzy was barely conscious. He just wanted to fucking die and the cowards wouldn’t let him.
Instead they cut off his fucking leg. He was greatfull they had the decency to chop instead of saw. He was surprised when the blade didn’t catch on bone, maybe god had a little mercy after all. He knew this was it barely able to keep his head up as things went black for probably the fifth time that day. Begging whatever god that chose to listen to Just let him die.
He would press his eyes closed looking for that bright light. Trying and failing to find and walk into some fucking light. But all he saw was black. That was terrifying. No bright light for pirates.
Izzy woke diluted and confused, Ed was sitting next to his bed. His hair was tied up and Izzy cursed himself for even now thinking Ed was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. Even now. Even missing his fucking leg.
He still trembled as ed moved and he tried to cling onto consciousness to hold his own. Maybe in some way he’d be able to defend himself.
Ed pulled out the same gun he had used to shoot Izzy’s leg. The click of the gun registered first, he watched ed’s meticulous movements as he placed it in Izzy’s hands.
He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He tried to tell ed to fuck off but when he yelled, ”Hold it.”
Izzy did, always the loyal first mate. Ed continued to ramble and Izzy could barely cling to the words and force them together to make sense. And when the fucker had stood there begging to die. Izzy just saw his Ed. His Ed who was hurt and was begging like a wounded animal, to be put out of its misery. He wanted a way out. He wanted a one way trip to doggy heaven.
Izzy held up the gun before a bitter laugh erupted. And in a final moment of defiance, what he knew was probably his last remark.
“Go ahead and clean up your own fucking mess. I’m not doing it. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” Izzy knew ed was gonna kill him. Still unstable and demanding. But Izzy couldn’t be the one to kill Ed. He couldn’t pull the trigger. “Fuck off”
When he left with a “fair-well old chum.” Izzy had the realization a loaded gun was still in his hand.
He had been looking for a way out. Practically begging for one. He had nothing to live for. Looking to his stump, he wanted to scream what pirate is missing a fucking leg. That’s all he ever was a pirate. He didn’t know what else he was. If he couldn’t be the loyal first mate who was he. Ed didn’t want him anymore and if he didn’t have Ed he didn’t have anyone.
Izzy looked to the gun again. He shakily held it to his head. He wanted this. He wanted to die. He wanted to float into black. He had nothing here.
He pulled the trigger.
He put a bullet in the fucker.
In his shaky state, the bullet had missed his head scraping against his skin and into the wall of the ship. When he felt the shake of the storm and heard the yelling above deck he forced himself up. Stumbling the halls of this fucking useless ship.
Izzy felt powerful with no leg, standing across from Ed. The two of them bleeding and drenched in rain, he managed to save the day. Izzy can’t remember the last time he was the hero. He allowed himself to be someone else, not just the loyal first mate.
Yet as Ed had been beat practically to death by fang, Izzy didn’t feel powerful anymore.
Killing, beating, raids, it had never bothered him. But watching Ed struggle to breathe, he felt sick.
He couldn’t do it he couldn’t kill him. Frenchie had helped Izzy drag him down to the same hidden room that had hid him only minutes before. Ed lying in the bed Soaked with Izzy’s blood.
The shaking of the boat continued. With no way to guide out of the storm, they were going to have to wait it out.
The orders began to leave Izzy’s mouth faster than he could comprehend. The crew following diligently to get them out of the mess Ed had drove them into.
The crashing of the waves made Izzy sick, but he managed to choke back the vomit. Giving orders behind gritted teeth. With every rock of the boat, and every wave crashing over, every lighting strike Izzy thought it was over. This was it. The crew was going to die. He was finally going to die.
Izzy had never been lucky because, the clouds parted and the sea settled, and the sky was blue. Izzy could breathe again without a little vomit coming out.
Then the excitement of survival calmed down and the realization came, they were stranded without a wheel, at the oceans bloody fucking mercy. They were gonna die.
He was finally going to die. Izzy saw light and he thought he could cry. He could finally die in peace. A tear shed down his cheek slipping past his cross tattoo. A smile graced his lips and he closed his eyes.
Remembering every time he almost died, times when he wanted to, times when he didn’t want to, it washed over him the sweet sensation of release. He’d fought so hard for so long and now he can let go.
The crew was stable all somewhere living their own weird lives. He wasn’t the first mate anymore. He Could finally walk the fuck away and die. He was tired and old and done.
His life had been good. It was miserable for a while but a life that isn’t is not one well lived. After the reunion Stede and Ed made up, life got easy for a long while. They continued to sail the sea until they were both ready to retire, and when they ran off to make “Jeff’s Bed and Breakfast” Izzy followed always the loyal first mate. Besides someone had to make sure the idiots didn’t get themselves killed.
At first third wheeling was miserable and Izzy had missed the sea. But soon the calm that surrounded izzy had brought him some peace. He found that for the first time in a long time he wasn’t living to survive he was living just to live.
Stede taught him how to read and he took quite the interest. Soon taking over the books of the inn because god knows he didn’t trust Ed or bonnet with them(no matter the amount of education bonnet insisted he had). It all became so domestic. The inn did quite well for itself surprisingly and it became a well known stop.
When they had enough funds to expand to the honey moon sweet ed and Stede made sure they were the first to use it.
Izzy can still remember Ed down on his bad knee and Stede smiling like an idiot. Izzy looked down at him and to bonnet and raised an eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
“Proposing?”
“Edward, we’re not even together?”
“We’re not?” Stede squeaked.
“Then what the fuck was the past year?” Ed had yelled.
Izzy smiled at the memory, Stede and Ed both apparently under the impression that they had been dating for years since Izzy followed them off the ship.
It explained a lot of interactions Izzy had questioned.
Life had been good. He’d lived, and he’d almost died, now he’s ready to let go and for the first time actually die.
He was ready to walk towards the light but before he did he opened his eyes one last time. Smiling at Ed and Stede.