Chapter Text
“What’re you doing there, Izzy?”
Another bag lands in the dinghy in front of him while Ed wanders over. Izzy does not turn around.
“What does it fucking look like?”
“Izzy.”
His First Mate stops puttering around and leans heavily on the railing. He still refuses to look at Ed and instead proceeds to stare down into the sea. Ed steps up next to him, back against the wood and staring at the shorter man with quiet worry in his expression. Their elbows are brushing, Izzy in his black leathers and Ed in something softer, not really a nightgown but obviously something of Stede’s.
Dawn is still a good hour or two away. Everyone else is asleep.
“Why are you leaving, man?”
Izzy tilts his head a little in Ed’s direction but his gaze stays cast downwards.
“You’ve got your boyfriend back,” he says, “There is no further need of me.”
“You got me Stede back.” Next to him, Izzy goes absolutely still. “Didn’t you?” Ed adds and his voice is impossibly soft but they both know he is right. “You cannot leave now.”
“And what do you think you can do to stop me?” Izzy leans down to pick up another one of his bags but Ed’s hand snaps forward and grabs hold of Izzy’s throat before he can finish the movement.
Izzy exhales, long and slow, and presses a little into Ed’s hand, like a small affectionate nuzzle but even then, he never looks up. Ed squeezes, desperate and unsure and Izzy pulls out of his grasp, not enough for Ed to stop touching him but enough that his fingers trail over the skin of his neck to the hollow of Izzy’s throat.
“I don’t respect you anymore, Edward.” Izzy’s voice is little more than a croaked whisper, barely loud enough to be audible over the waves lapping against the ship’s hull. “And I don’t think it would be good for either of us to stay around each other. Not after – not after all that’s happened.”
There is a lump in Ed’s throat that refuses to go away and he lets his fingers move to the little swallow on Izzy’s neck, two fingers pressing into black ink. “You swore yourself to me, once upon a time.” He feels more than he sees Izzy’s hand, covered by leather, brush against the corresponding mark on his own arm, tattoos they gave each other after their first five-thousand miles together as Captain and First Mate. “Look at me, Izzy,” he orders and finally Izzy does but there is no fight in his eyes, just bone-deep tiredness.
“You don’t need me anymore, Edward,” he repeats his earlier words and breaks their eye contact. Ed’s chest hurts at the way Izzy says his name, a privilege his First Mate had not dared make use of until they unexpectedly – for Ed at least – met with Stede and his crew a little over a week ago. Had not wanted to make use of after he had become Ed for all the world to see.
Izzy’s pulse flutters under his fingertips.
He opens his mouth–
“Don’t,” Izzy begs and the hand that is not trapped between their bodies is clenched around the railing as if it is the last thing holding him upright. “Please.”
Ed hates how demure Izzy is.
“I want you here,” he finally says and Izzy looks up at that, lightning-quick but there. “I want you here,” Ed says again and strokes Izzy’s throat. Izzy shudders. Pulls away.
“The crew hates me,” Izzy’s hands are trembling as he busies himself with the knots on his final bag, “And they have every right to do so. Even Ivan and Fang see my presence as a continuous threat to Bonnet.” He looks up then and his face is so serious, “You saved me once from their wrath, when they loved you like they loved their fool of a captain. There’s nothing stopping them now.”
“Stede would stop them.” Izzy lowers his head again but not fast enough that Ed cannot see the muscle twitching under his eye.
“I don’t want to owe my life to the likes of him,” Izzy spits and freezes as if he expects Ed to punish him for his words. Again.
Ed slides to the deck with a dull thud and rests his head on the wood behind him, staring up into the rigging and the stars visible between cloth and rope.
“Stede and I, we’re not okay yet,” he confesses and feels Izzy stop and turn his attentions to his captain. “If you leave now,” and he hates how feeble his voice sounds even to his own ears, “there’s no one left who’s really on my side. He forgave me for throwing away his stuff but the crew’s still mad at me for trying to kill them. Can’t really blame them there, can I?” he tilts his head towards Izzy and catches his watchful gaze.
Izzy’s shoulder relax when he exhales.
“I’ll stay,” he agrees and Ed straightens up from his slouch, eyes lighting up but before he can say anything more Izzy stops him with a raised hand open palm and adds, “but only until we reach Nassau. And–” He swallows heavily and wets his lips with a nervous little lick before reaching towards his neckerchief, “and I won’t stay as First Mate.” He slips the ring off the cloth, squeezes it in his hands hard enough that the little jewel on it must leave an imprint on his palm then holds it out to Ed.
His neck looks naked without the golden glint and it is more reflex than anything else that makes Ed take the ring from Izzy. He stares at the little band on his palm and looks up to say something or give it back or anything, really but Izzy is already getting up and not looking at him anymore.
“Go to sleep, Edward,” he says to the dinghy in front of him, taking hold of the bags he had already put inside, “to your boyfriend or wherever else it is you sleep right now.” For a moment, he looks over to Ed again; more vulnerable than Ed thinks he has ever seen him. “I’ll still be there when you wake up.”
✧✦✧
They take much longer to reach Nassau than necessary but Izzy does not complain about the delay once. He does not really complain about anything, anymore. Not about the incompetence of the crew nor the status of the ship nor their lack of organization or how no one really does any chores on the Revenge.
No one but Izzy, that is.
He keeps to himself and shies away from all the other people aboard the ship. During the day, no one really sees him and after the first couple of days most of the crew are convinced he actually hides away somewhere during the day to sleep, a different spot every day so as not to be found. He has given up his room, all of his things removed from it without anyone noticing at first. Frenchie and Wee John take it after some discussion with Olu and Jim about the ownership of the other cabin.
Izzy is good at hiding when he wants to be alone. He is small and slender and does not take up much room when he curls together in some dark nook. With the way he dresses, he gets near invisible in the dark and there are enough corners on the ship where no light falls no matter the time of day. It is behavior Ed has not seen Izzy display since before he became Blackbeard.
When they anchor down for the night with Stede reading stories to the crew and everyone getting ready to go to sleep, that is usually when Izzy turns up again, taking the night’s watch without a word of protest.
When the crew gets up again in the morning, the deck always looks tidier and the ship cleaner than it did before they settled down for the night.
They notice.
Buttons is the only other person who sometimes stays up during the night, basking in moonglow with Olivia as company but he stays tight-lipped about Izzy despite the rest of the crew’s prodding.
The Swede comments how nice it is not to fall over ropes when he gets up. They all exchange guilty glances at that and one by one try to remember jobs Izzy tried to force them to do mere months ago. The Revenge runs smoother than she did even during the Kraken’s reign of terror. They even start scraping barnacles off the hull in a slow, tedious rotation.
The only time Izzy sticks around during any form of crew activity is when Ed orders him to. They still have not figured out where he hides himself away during the day but whenever Blackbeard starts hollering he appears within a few minutes and clenches his jaw instead of lashing out with biting words against any of them. It still takes them embarrassingly long to realize the ring around his cravat is gone and longer still to connect his change in behavior to his change in accessories.
Stede finally asks Ed about it one night while they are up in the crow’s nest. The rest of the crew has long since gone off to sleep, except for Buttons who is sitting naked on the aft, vocalizing in low tones, and Izzy who, after making a perfunctory round through the ship has taken to working his way through complicated looking exercises with his sword. He keeps adjusting his stance in the short breaks he takes from massacring imagined opponents and for the longest time watching Stede does not realize that he does it to compensate for the change in balance the missing pinky toe has left him with.
Ed has fallen mostly asleep with his head on Stede’s shoulder. It feels good, in the way all casual intimacy between them does again but it does not take more than a slight shift in Stede’s position to startle Ed out of his daze.
“Did you threaten him to leave the rest of the crew alone?” he asks quietly so as not to make Izzy aware of their continued presence high above the deck. Next to him, Ed tenses up. Stede squeezes his thigh in reassurance and Ed turns his head to hide his face in the crook of Stede’s neck.
“No,” he answers after a long silence, “There’s just no need for two First Mates on a ship and you already got Buttons.” He turns his head back into the light and stares down at the deadly dance Izzy performs, unaware of his audience.
“There’s more to it though, isn’t there?”
“Can’t say I understand half of what’s going on in that man’s head.” Ed says petulantly. Stede makes a soft tsk sound and starts carding a hand through the waves of Ed’s graying hair.
“He’s been avoiding you.”
Ed does not pull away but his beard is not yet long enough to hide the grimace flickering over his face.
“He’s been avoiding everyone.”
“Does he know the crew has pretty much lost their resentment towards him? He has done an admirable job at keeping the ship going and if I am not mistaken, they have been trying to take his lessons to heart.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Ed mutters and there is the lump in his throat again that has not fully gone away since Izzy tried to leave in the dark of the night. He fiddles with the ring he has taken to wearing despite its style being so much less flashy than his usual choice of jewelry. “He’s leaving. Soon as we reach Nassau.”
“Is that why you’ve insisted on changing course so much over the last few days?” Ed swallows heavily and Stede, sensing his discomfort, pulls him closer and presses a kiss to the top of his head.
“Yeah, maybe.” He hates how fragile he sounds.
“Maybe he just needs some time to figure things out,” Stede whispers into his hair, “It did me some good as well, after all.” Ed curls a possessive hand into the fabric of Stede’s shirt and tries to suppress the tremble in his fingers.
“Everyone leaves,” he says without meaning to. Stede grabs his chin and forcefully turns it towards him until he can stare into Ed’s eyes with one of the most serious expression Ed has ever seen on Stede’s face.
“I’m not going anywhere, ever again.”
The kiss that follows is anything but chaste.
They reach Nassau two days later.
✧✦✧
Izzy knocks on the door of the captains’ quarters Ed and Stede share now, less than an hour before they dock in the Republic of Pirates. He already has his bags slung over his shoulder when Stede asks him in and barely looks up long enough to meet the captains’ eyes.
“I know you were talking about new names and identities,” he starts after a perfunctory greeting, eyes glued to the tips of Ed’s shoes. “I can help establish them if you tell me what you’ve decided on.”
“How are you going to do that?” Stede asks against his better judgement and gets rewarded with a dirty glare that disappears as fast as it came the moment Ed so much as shuffles his feet. Izzy does not see the worried look Stede shoots Ed nor the expression of hurt blooming over the face of his soon-to-be former captain.
“Blackbeard’s been dead for a while,” Izzy says and Stede can hear the truth in those words and the pain in Izzy’s voice. “I just need to know the name of the man who murdered him. Can’t be fucking Stede Bonnet ‘cause he’s been dead for months as well.” Izzy looks up then and Edward leans forward a little at the intensity in his gaze.
“You cannot show your face around Nassau.” His eyes flick over to Stede. “Neither of you. And you need to tell your crew not to speak of you with your old names.” Stede takes an instinctive step forward with a hand already raised for that reassuring shoulder squeeze which has become so natural a gesture among the crew but smooth as a shadow Izzy mirrors him and keeps the distance between them. Stede’s hand uselessly drops back to his side. He does not recognize the emotion flickering in Izzy’s face but if he did not know any better, he would describe it as fear.
“Thomas,” Stede says quietly. “Captain Thomas from the Royal James.”
“Aye,” Izzy agrees with his eyes still fixed on Stede, “that’ll work.” He turns around to leave but stops one more time in the door. They see him breathe in and square his shoulders before he turns around and pins Stede under a glare that has made lesser men cry.
“He nearly destroyed himself the first time you fucking left him. If I hear so much as a fucking rumor that you fucking crossed him again, there is no fucking place in the seven seas where I will not find you.”
“Izzy,” Ed snarls but for once his former First Mate only has eyes for the Gentleman Pirate.
“Understood,” Stede says and keeps holding Izzy’s gaze until the shorter man turns away and rushes out of the room. They inform the crew when Izzy takes over the helm to guide them into the Republic’s harbor. Stede and Ed hide themselves away in the captains’ quarter so as not to be seen by any pirates that might know them but Izzy does not come down again to say his goodbyes before he leaves. If Ed buries his face in Stede’s shoulder while he fiddles around with the ring and Stede holds him closer than usual on their restocked bed when they set sail again, no one will know but them.
✧✦✧
Nassau is a shithole at the best of times but Izzy finds it more grating than usual as he struts through the dirty streets towards Jackie’s. The people keep a wide berth around him, both due to his reputation as Blackbeard’s iron-fisted right hand as well as the expression on his face.
Jackie’s is not empty but it is still too early in the day for the real crowd to have properly set in. About half the tables are unoccupied and Spanish Jackie herself sits alone at hers, glass in front and cigarette between her fingers. A man Izzy recognizes as one of her husbands mans the bar and he wonders briefly what happened to Geraldo who used to be the only one allowed to hand out drinks to the guests.
The room falls silent as he steps in and he sees Jackie straighten herself up when their eyes meet. He must really look like shit if this is the reaction his appearance provokes and he lets his gaze slide over the people present. For a moment, he lets himself show the full weight of his age and all the fresh and unhealed pains the last months have caused him before he announces, his voice never rising, aware that he commands the attention of every person in the room, “Blackbeard is dead. I’m looking for a new crew.”