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“I don’t understand why he won’t just talk to me,” mused Stede, gazing wistfully towards Ed across the beach. The dinghy had run across the Revenge by chance several days ago, in which time Ed had hardly looked Stede’s way.
“Really. You can’t think of a single reason.”
Stede turned to see Izzy sitting haphazardly on a rock behind him. Well, sitting might not be quite right. More like posing in a way that suggested ease and confidence while not actually knowing what those things looked like.
Stede felt his eyes droop. “Has is really been that bad?”
Izzy stared back at this stupid, oblivious man. Had it been that bad? Had it been bad to see Edward only rinse the blood off his face with the tears you made him shed? To see the greatest pirate to ever have lived reduced to a sobbing, pathetic mess? Yes, you idiot. It had been. “Well. Up and down.”
Stede returned his gaze to Ed, wishing so desperately to kiss him again, to tell him how wrong he had been, that he would never leave him again, but every chance was another time Ed would run from him. It was too late. He’d ruined everything, just like he always does.
And for some reason, Izzy Hands really cared.
“Bonnet,” grumbled Izzy, “What if… what if I tried talking to him. For you.”
And goddamnit, the audacity of Stede’s eyes when he turned around. A puppy mixed with a toddler that had been given a heavy hallucinogen. “You would do that?”
Redness crept up Izzy’s collar. “Sure. Yeah. Need Blackbeard to get back to being himself.”
Stede’s smile softened his face, and Izzy averted his gaze. He slid off the rock, seeming to forget that his leg was now wooden, and stumbled awkwardly towards his boss on the ship. Boss. He tried to remember when the word carried respect and awe. Now he was playing relationship counselor. God, he used to be feared. They both did. Villages quaked at the word “Revenge.” People knew the stories of the Dread Pirate Blackbeard, and his first mate Israel Hands.
And now look at him. His boss cried himself to sleep every night over quite possibly the silliest man Izzy had ever encountered. Izzy himself had a wooden leg that was becoming an increasing struggle in the sand. And although he tried to go along with it to get Edward back to being himself, his real self, Bonnet’s appearance had wrecked his progress, just like it always does.
Edward himself was standing on the helm of the Revenge, looking over the horizon. If he noticed Izzy approaching him, it went unacknowledged.
“There’s a very sad man out there, Edward.”
Ed inhaled slowly, then turned to face Izzy. “He’s sad, is he. Jesus.”
Yeah, he is, but you shouldn’t be, thought Izzy. He took a step towards Ed. “We could leave him here. Just go. It could be like it used to.”
“I’m trying to makes things how they used to be, Izzy. How’s it been working out for us, hmm? Are you feeling any better about this?” Asked Ed, his voice teetering between softness and brimming frustration.
Izzy considered what to say, but he never was good at reading the room. “It’s been good seeing you be your old self again, Edward, I’ll admit.”
And his voice teetered. Teetered into frustration, decided it didn’t like it there, and jumped into fury. “And who exactly is that? The guy who kills people without thinking? Who burns villages to the ground without care? That’s Blackbeard, Izzy, not me. And he—“ Ed gestured towards Stede— “showed me that. So no, I can’t just leave him here, but I’m not willing to talk to him yet. And you can take yourself out of it, or you can take yourself out of all of this. Choice is yours.”
Ed began turning his shoulders back toward the water, but Izzy grabbed him, got very close to his face. “You don’t know how pathetic you really are. All of this? For him?”
Ed looked over Izzy’s shoulder at Stede, perched limply on the sand. He looked pathetically small against the backdrop of the jungle. The backs of Ed’s eyes prickled with tears, and he would’ve kept looking towards the man he loved forever, always looking, never reaching out, if not for Izzy’s voice.
“Think about this, Edward. What can he bring you that you don’t already have?”
And that was the last thing Izzy remembered saying before he was knocked to the ground.
Here’s the thing about waking up in the presence of Stede Bonnet. At first, you’re not going to know you’re with him. You’re going to think that your boss, mentor, and oldest… well, oldest something just dumped you under a palm tree and went about his business. No, you realize Stede Bonnet is there when you start hearing things like “How’s your head?” Or “Can I get you anything?” Or “Was he willing to talk to me? Oh, sorry, that’s not important right now.”
So, for some godforsaken reason, Izzy was left with no choice but to let himself get taken care of. By Stede. Bonnet.
“He didn’t want to talk to you. Sorry,” he breathed around a stifled groan, ignoring the pang of shame that accompanied the lie.
Stede didn’t try to hide his disappointment, and some part of it tugged at Izzy’s mangled heartstrings. “Oh. That’s alright I suppose. Just have to keep trying.”
Why? Why would you be so persistent? Why can’t you accept this? Izzy wanted to ask. But his head was pounding too hard. Ed had hit him before, sure. But this time it felt harder, felt more like the punch was intended for him, not just for how he made Ed feel.
“How are you feeling? Took quite a fall.”
Izzy met Stede’s hopeful eyes. God, it was like he was staring through him. “Fall?”
“Yeah. Saw Ed hit you, thought that was bad enough, but he barely made an attempt to lower you over the side of the ship before letting you drop to the sand. Thought that was a bit harsh.”
Izzy considered this. He supposed pride was the appropriate thing to feel. He did that, he made Blackbeard angry enough to be that careless with someone else’s life. He ignored the tiny sting of rejection that announced itself in his mind. “Can I ask you something, Bonnet?”
Stede’s eyes widened, but he said, “Sure. Yeah.”
“Why do you keep—“ Izzy painfully shifted to lean against the tree— “keep chasing after him?”
Stede’s face softened. “I do ask myself that question every day. But I suppose it’s because I love him.” And the way he said it infuriated Izzy. It seemed so easy. So obvious.
Izzy sighed, closed his eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about piracy.”
Stede stared at him. Izzy could feel his eyes burning into him.
Finally, Stede asked, “How long have you had that?”
Izzy turned to him. “Had what?”
Stede motioned to his ear.
“Oh. I dunno. A long time, pierced it myself when I was just starting out.” Stede didn’t say anything. “Why? Don’t suppose you’d want one?”
Stede’s eyes widened. “Oh! No, no, certainly not. Can’t stomach a needle, you understand.”
Izzy scoffed and rested his head back against the tree. He tried not to, but Stede glanced back over his shoulder towards the Revenge. “Although,” he said, trepidatiously, “Do you think it would help? With the whole pirating thing?”
“How you look isn’t going to sway his opinion of you one way or the other. You should know that by now,” said Izzy. “But, if it’d make you feel more like a pirate—“ he internally rolled his eyes— “I think I could help you out.”
Not two minutes later had they switched positions, Stede with his back against the tree, Izzy with his aching head sitting close to the other man’s legs, both making an effort not to touch one another. Izzy had pulled a pin off his jacket and wiped off most of the dirt with the hem of his shirt. Stede hadn’t stopped reassuring himself since the process began.
“You’re sure about this,” said Izzy, holding the pin between two rough fingers. He knew the answer, he just wanted to give Bonnet one more chance to back out. For some reason. Not that he cared.
“Course! Course.”
And so, Izzy counted down from three but didn’t make it to zero before pushing the pin through Stede’s earlobe.
And by god, for all the men he’d personally killed, Izzy had never heard a man cry so loud.
Izzy sat back with a bored expression and a rapidly firing internal monologue, watching Stede adapt to the microscopic pain that his brain was amplifying. “Feel alright?”
Stede’s eyebrows were furrowed, his face red, sweat pouring down his face, and Izzy didn’t take his eyes off of him for a second. “Of course not! But—“ he paused to take a breath, and some of the red drained from his face— “Thank you.”
He looks fine, thought Izzy. Still nothing like any proper pirate. But certainly a gentleman pirate if there ever was one.
“You know,” Izzy began, “This isn’t going to do much. Ed will talk to you on his own terms, but how you look will have nothing to do with it.”
“Oh, I understand that fine. I regret what I did, sure. But if he wants to forgive me, he will. And in the meantime, I may as well be the best pirate I can, and look the part how I please.”
Izzy didn’t realize his voice was raising. “Uh huh. And say you want to leave him again? You suddenly remember that it’s really damn hard to be a pirate?” Stede was staring at him. “What?”
“I can’t go back to my old life, Izzy. I’m dead to those people, quite literally. This is my home now.” He gestured to the beach, the Revenge in the distance. “He is my home now.”
Izzy could only gape at him, at this ridiculous, pompous, reckless, wonderful man. His voice softened. “You really do love him.”
“Yeah. You should know that by now.” Stede pulled his gaze off of Izzy, cast it toward the setting sun and the dark clouds in the sky. “I think you love him too.”
Izzy’s breath caught in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You love him as much as I do. Maybe in a different way, or maybe not. But I think he made you feel special once. That’s how he makes me feel, anyway.”
Izzy recollected his past with Ed. How they met and how Ed had had stars in his eyes, visions of turning himself into the most famous pirate the world had ever seen. And he was. And then he met Stede Bonnet. He was still the greatest pirate to have ever lived, but he was… frillier. Perhaps, happier. And it was somehow the fault of this ridiculous man who had abandoned a family, money, comfort, for a risk and a mistake.
“Well. I think you make him feel special too,” Izzy muttered. “You have that effect, I suppose.”
Stede flicked his head back to Izzy. The piercing was a bit less red now, Stede’s face a bit less shiny. Ahh, I see, he thought to himself. Any other member of the crew would’ve noticed this much sooner, but Stede had something that there wasn’t a word for yet that kept him oblivious to these things. Finally though. Something clicked. And it made him smile despite himself.
“You know, Izzy, when, or I suppose, if, Edward chooses to forgive me, there’s no reason we couldn’t, that is, if Ed were comfortable…“ And as he stammered, a gentle rain began falling on the beach. He cleared his throat. “Well. Suppose you’d best head back to the ship. I’ll reconvene with the rest of the crew.”
“I’ll stay here. Too far a walk in the wet sand, and well, with…” he gestured to his leg.
“Right. Well. We should at least move under the canopy,” Stede suggested, motioning toward the jungle brush behind them.
“Sure, sure.” The two helped one another up, and sheltered under the tree line, not so afraid to touch anymore.
And in the distance, another ship was passing the island. It was a bit too far for any mortal to make out any details about it, but the beings gazing out over the boat’s port could see all that was happening on the island. They’d been watching it like a soap opera, whatever those were, it’s still the 1700s in case we’ve forgotten.
“Angel, would you look at that?” The auburn haired one shamelessly pointed towards the trees. “The rain did it! They were forced to shelter together!”
Her partner crept up behind her, following her gaze to the men under the canopy. “Honestly, my dear, do you think the rain is the only factor?”
“Doesn’t matter much. Probably though. I’ll remember that for the future.”
“When would you ever need to use that in the future? Suppose we’ll get into a scrape that requires us to play Cupid?” He said, smirking. He snapped downwards, and the rain began falling around the two in a perfect circle, but not directly on them.
“Can’t see it happening. But still. Good to be prepared.” And she huddled closer to the shorter one, staying within the protected circle. Although, of course, the rain was not the only factor.