Chapter Text
“I still hate this fucking place” Izzy grumbled as he stumbled down the stairs to the bar, one arm leaning onto Fang for support. The actual bar hasn’t changed much since the crew last went, it was still as dingy and loud as ever. Almost too much though for Izzy. The stench of shitty alcohol and sweat was beginning to get nauseating as it invaded his nose combined with the painful clatter of noise was slowly getting under his skin.
He let out a groan when he remembered why they had gone in the first place, after spending so much time at sea the crew wanted a break, and of course Stede fucking Bonnet, the ever-caring man thought it was a most wonderful idea! Rewarding the crew for their hard work in the form of a night out to a bar was right up his philosophy regarding leadership. ‘Couldn’t pick a worse place for a nice night out if he tried’ the older man thought, lamenting not contributing the idea to go to any other fucking bar.
His regret was slowly morphing to impatience as they all sat down round their drinks, ready to talk about anything that wasn’t their work at sea. Was it always this loud? Had it smelt so bad before? Was his chair always this uncomfortable? Had he felt this sweaty before they went in? It was all so much. Too much even. He could feel his breathing beginning to accelerate, becoming small, shuddered gasps. His chest was heavy with sudden newfound nerves, his heart was going a million knots an hour like it was trying to escape his chest. He was becoming far too aware for his liking of how grossly sweaty his palms were, suddenly feeling very disgusted with himself for leaning on Fang. It was all so wrong.
And if his day couldn’t get shitty enough, a far too familiar fuzziness was slowly dominating his mind. He despised this feeling with every fibre of his spiteful being. It was a rather sore reminder whilst he still had some conscious not yet swallowed by it, for he felt as though it were a culmination of all his weakness and failures. The worst part was it wasn’t even content with reminding Izzy of his past shortcomings, oh no, why would it stop there? It just had to trap him in his own self-worth issues even more by making him so small and clingy, needy even. He shuddered at the words. It was wildly inappropriate for a pirate much less one of his status and demeanour to crave affection like this, to long to be held and cooed at, fussed over like a colicky baby.
He just wanted this all to be done and over with. There was a hole in his heart, a heavy weight in his chest when he finally processed Ed wouldn’t be there to fuss over him or even scare him out of it (which unfortunately for Izzy rarely worked effectively, usually leading to the intensifying of it all shortly after leaving Ed’s company.) Not that Ed really wanted too or felt any desire to do so. He let his mind wander someone else ... Even if he knew he wouldn’t let it happen in real life in a million years. Afterall, how would he be their unicorn, a guide for them in their toughest times when he was little more than an upset toddler for half a day? Yet some part of him hoped it would, so in response Izzy tried to drown it out. Hoping that merely daydreaming would scratch his infantile desires and pray that it wouldn’t come back again.
And back to daydreaming he went. Someone kind, stable and understanding. Patient. Someone with a real parental streak in ‘em. Attempting to placate the childish neediness slowly engulfing his mind, he started picturing himself in all sorts of revolting comforting scenarios. Being held in someone’s lap, being cooed at and fussed over, called all sorts of pet names as fingers ran through his hair, comforting him after a particularly dreadful nightmare. Someone there to soothe his cries as his dream-self sobbed into their chest.
But that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Noone would want a First Mate who’s reduced to a blubbering baby by the wee hours of the night. What kind of feared and well-respected pirate wakes up to soggy sheets and a slobbery thumb whilst bawling his eyes out because of a bad dream?
“Hey Izzy! You alright boss?” He must’ve let out a sniffle because Fang was suddenly concerned about his emotional status.
“’Course I’m fuckin’ fine, why wouldn’t I be?’ choosing to forgo the usual ‘ twatty’ added on at the end.
“Just seemed a bit upset boss” Fang replied. He wasn’t terribly far from the truth. Silence. Fang was the first to break it, looking with concern to Izzy. “You can tell me- us- the crew-, you know?”
“What? You want me to talk it through as a crew?” He sneered. “Fuck off”. Fang just sighed.
“Seeing as everyone’s nearly done with their drinks, why don’t we head back to the ship boss?” He proposed.
Izzy pauses and considers, before humming in agreement. Finally, he’d be away from this god forsaken place, and into the peace and quiet of his tiny cabin or wistfully gazing into the serene night sky on deck. Either one was far better than being on land to begin with anyway.
He huffs as he struggles to get onto his foot and prosthetic but with Fang’s help, they’re steadily making their way to the ship. “Thanks,” He mumbles under his breath, silently appreciative of the other man’s support. Once he’s back on deck, he has just enough clarity in him to not melt into Fang’s soft, cozy arms and God forbid end up with his thumb in his mouth but thankfully manages to stammer out a ‘G-good Night’ before speedily retiring to his cabin for the night.
He’s grateful for the sleep that comes relatively fast thanks to the alcohol now in his system, not enough to be drunk but enough that combined with the haze of his feelings of being small and fuzzy resulted in him falling asleep rather quickly. Pleased to have escaped how utterly overwhelmed Jackie’s had made him.
But it doesn’t last for long. He exits his slumber to wailing and gasped sobs, before becoming awake enough to realise they were coming from him. But it was too late. The fucking small feeling had consumed his mind entirely and to his horror didn’t have the capacity to care about his reputation. It didn’t care he was one of the most successful and well-respected pirates in history. No, it cared that Izzy was soaked in his own piss from his little nighttime accident after his big scary bad dream and wanted comfort. All it knew was he was yucky ‘nd gross and needed help. So that’s exactly what he did.
He felt his face cringe at the soft squelch his leathers made when he stood up but with a soft whimper and the comfort of his ragged, thin blanket from his cot he slowly padded over to Stede’s cabin.