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Seeing Frenchie hurry towards him, Izzy knows instantly what he is about to say.
"Blackbeard wants to see you," Frenchie mutters once he is close enough, his eyes on the floor. That should make it easy for Izzy to just circle around him, but when he tries, Frenchie lifts up his head, setting his jaw as he looks Izzy straight in the eye.
"I would be careful if I were you," Frenchie whispers, his face very serious. He's moving his fingers, as if he wants to lift up his hand, but he doesn't. "He seems- too calm."
"I can handle it," Izzy snaps- or tries to, frowning when the words come out powerless and tired. But he finally walks past Frenchie, and Frenchie doesn't try to stop him.
*
The truth is, Izzy *is* afraid. But once Izzy reaches the captain's cabin, he doesn't hesitate to knock on the door.
"If it's Izzy, come in," Blackbeard says, and Frenchie is right; given Blackbeard's state of mind in the last months, calmness is a bad sign. Izzy swallows before heading in, pulling the door softly close behind him.
It doesn't smell like liquor in the room, which is rare these days if Izzy gets summoned by Blackbeard; it's as if Blackbeard needs the power of the booze to be even able to look at Izzy. He isn't looking at Izzy now, standing by the window and looking outside, his hands clasped behind his back. It's familiar enough a sight that Izzy almost feels comforted by it, but it's not enough to make the sense of dread go away. Izzy clears his throat.
"You wanted to see me," he says.
Blackbeard doesn't respond. From the window, Izzy can see that the day is turning into the evening outside, the sinking sun glimmering on the surface of the ocean. It's pretty, he supposes, lovely even- and he knows Blackbeard is not admiring it.
"Today is an anniversary," Blackbeard says at last. "Do you remember which one?"
Izzy's teeth gnash together.
Of course, he should have remembered before even coming to the room; today it's been exactly two months since Bonnet disappeared on Blackbeard, taking his heart with him. He should have remembered, although it wouldn't make any difference; if Blackbeard calls him, Izzy will come running. Yet Izzy feels like the floor underneath his feet has become brittle, and he could fall through it into the sea any moment now.
"I do," he says. "Do you want to make a mess somewhere?"
That's what they had done during the one month anniversary, sailed to the nearest harbor and stirred as much trouble as possible. Those kinds of things used to be exciting, but now Izzy is sure that nobody present at the time had even enjoyed themselves. But then again, enjoyment hadn't been the point.
The point was destruction. And having been summoned here-
As if on cue, Blackbeard turns around. He's smiling an empty smile.
"That blade makes me nervous," he says, glancing down towards Izzy's hip. "Put it away, the whole thing."
Only now Izzy realizes that he has been fondling the handle of the sword this whole time, perhaps in some fucked up attempt to soothe himself. He pulls his hand away, hesitating before starting to unstrap the sword and is sheath.
There is a table nearby, so Izzy puts the sword and the sheath on it, lingering there before moving away. It's hardly the first time he's been around Blackbeard without his sword, but there had been trust between them during those previous times; this time, Izzy just feels vulnerable. But he puts distance between himself and the table, eyeing Blackbeard. Blackbeard was always a bit hard to read, but these days Izzy can't read him at all, and it wounds him more than his lost toes do.
"You look so tense." Blackbeard saunters over to the nearest chair, flopping down on it. He pats his good knee. "Come here."
Teeth grinding into the inside of his cheek, Izzy approaches Blackbeard.
He doesn't try to sit on the knee, of course not; instead, Izzy sinks down on his own knees before Blackbeard, bowing his head when he sees Blackbeard reach out for him. He closes his eyes as Blackbeard digs his fingers into his hair, making mess of the strands that Izzy has so carefully slicked back, tugging on them every now and then. Izzy listens to his own breathing, feeling embarrassed when he hears that it has grown heavy.
"It's pathetic how little it takes to get you going," Blackbeard says, his voice superficially pleasant. "Do you think you're worthy of my touch?"
"No." The answer is easy. Blackbeard's hand is still in his hair, but it's sliding towards his neck now, and it's not a surprise when Blackbeard clutches it.
"Do you think you're special to me?" Blackbeard's voice takes a demanding tone, his fingers tightening against Izzy's neck. "Look at me."
Izzy shivers, opening his eyes. Blackbeard's mouth is still curved in a smile, but there is nothing soft in his eyes, nothing at all there.
"I know I'm not," Izzy says.
"That is true. Points for self-awareness." Blackbeard sighs, dropping his smile. "Why did I call you here, Iz?"
Blackbeard covers the nape of Izzy's neck with his palm, almost gently.
Because you wanted to be with someone more miserable than you.
"I have no idea," Izzy says. "I can't guess your thoughts."
For a moment, Blackbeard looks confused, as if this wasn't the answer he wanted to hear. But the emptiness returns within seconds, and Blackbeard pushes down on Izzy's head until it almost comes to contact with Blackbeard's knee.
"Sit there for a while, Izzy." Above him, Blackbeard looks away from him. "I'll allow it."
Closing his eyes, Izzy rests his cheek against Blackbeard's knee.
*
Much to Izzy's surprise, Frenchie is waiting outside when he leaves the captain's cabin.
"Izzy," Frenchie starts to say, but Izzy ignores him, marching past him as fast as he can.
He knows the word will go around and the crew will be looking at him with pity, and Blackbeard won't look at him at all. But as far as Izzy is considered, it's all right. Blackbeard shared his loneliness with Izzy for a while, and for Izzy, that's not nothing.
He can only hope that it wasn't nothing for Blackbeard, too.