Chapter Text
They boarded the ship easily, just before dawn.
Too easily, in Stede’s opinion - which was saying a lot seeing as he had no other experience in boarding a pirate ship under the cover of darkness. But there was no resistance met. In fact, there appeared to be no one on watch at all, the deck still and quiet. Had the ship been abandoned? Had something terrible happened?
“Buttons, Pete,” Stede gestured them closer, voice low. “Take a sweep of the entire deck. Roach, head for the galley. You know where the knives are. Take the Swede in case there’s trouble. Olu and Wee John, you’re with me.”
He clutched the dagger in his hand tighter, decidedly not shaking. Something was wrong, he just didn’t know what. His heart pounded as he led the other men through the familiar stain-glass door and down the hall to the Captain’s quarters. If Ed was there, he would be right beyond that door. Stede was suddenly struck with the finality of what was about to happen - there would be no more chances to daydream of their reunion, only the reality of it. For better or worse.
“Captain?” came Olu’s questioning voice, glancing into the dark passage behind them.
Yes. Onward.
Stede reached for the knob, but the door wrenched out of his grasp before he could turn it, bringing him face to face with a haggard and equally shocked looking Izzy Hands. A moment passed between them where neither seemed to breathe. Izzy, surprisingly, broke the tension first, shoulders sagging as the breath whooshed from his lungs.
“Oh, thank fuck.”
—
The hour between pre-dawn darkness and early morning golden light passed in a blur. Izzy’s words seemed to break a spell over the entire ship, shouts of joy and surprise echoing through every corner of the hull.
“Olu?”
“Jim!”
“John!”
“Frenchie!”
“Fang!”
“Lucius? Lucius!?”
Stede missed all of it, dragged into his old quarters by a rough hand on the collar of his shirt. So much for the dagger he was wielding. But Izzy paid it no mind, releasing him as soon as he was over the threshold and turning to the slumped frame in the middle of the room.
“Ed? Ed!” Stede called, rushing to his side where he was spilled over the top of the worn desk, half out of the only chair that occupied the room. There was no response, and he turned accusatory eyes on the First Mate. “What have you done to him?”
“Nothing, you fucking ponce.” Izzy rolled his reddened eyes. “He’s bloody pissed.”
Stede noticed the various bottles of liquor scattered about the barren room, then; a mostly empty bottle of rum poised suspiciously close to his limp hand. He also noticed the distinct lack of.. everything. All his worldly possessions. Gone.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” Izzy seethed. “Help me get him to the bed.”
Stede turned on the other man, vicious words ready on his tongue, but stopped as he finally took in his uneven gait, the thumping of the cane against the floorboards. He swallowed his words. There were so many questions that he needed answers to, but he recognized Izzy was in no state to maneuver Ed’s heavier frame on his own. Questions could wait.
They managed between the two of them, Stede taking the most of his weight, depositing him on the stripped mattress and arranging his barely responsive frame. Izzy was halfway out of the room before Stede had a chance to look back at him.
“Make sure he doesn’t choke on his fucking sick,” he spat over his shoulder.
And then Stede was alone with Edward, but feeling no closer to being reunited.
—
Stede stood in the ruins of his cabin for what felt like hours, watching the motionless frame of the man he loved. He was breathing, chest rising and falling, his only sign of life. There were markings covering his face, streaks that may have once been a solid black but were now smudged into the lines and pores of his skin. His hair laid as a tangled mass across the pillows - once lovely curls a matted mess, and Stede wanted nothing more than to comb them out with all the care and tenderness in the world.
The sun had long risen before anyone came looking for him. The knock at the door shook him from his thoughts, and he tugged the drapes to the sleeping nook closed to shield Ed from view. Tempers were still high amongst the crew - not without reason - and Ed was in no state to defend or protect himself.
“Come in!”
It was Oluwande. He entered cautiously, taking in the state of the cabin. “Christ, it’s worse than I remember,” he commented with a flinch. “Where is Blackbeard?”
Stede glanced at the closed drapes. “He is.. not well, unfortunately.”
“I could have told you that,” Jim stated with derision as they followed their partner into the cabin.
Stede realized with some guilt that he hadn’t even considered the missing members of his crew yet, too consumed with worry and confusion over the state of Edward. “Jim! God, I’m so glad to see you unharmed. You are unharmed, are you not?”
“Yeah, mostly. Had to deal with a minor concussion thanks to a certain pinche cabron, but otherwise doing fine.”
“And the others? Frenchie, Lucius?”
An unreadable glance passed between the two, making a hot stab of fear twist in Stede’s gut. “What? What is it?”
Oluwande was the one to respond. “You should probably come see for yourself, Captain.”
Stede was hesitant to leave Ed, Izzy’s words of warning drifting through his mind, but the man was sleeping on his side and his crew needed him. Nothing was being accomplished by standing and staring.
Seeing for himself, apparently, consisted of being grasped by his collar for the second time that morning, this time by a haggard, shaggy looking Lucius Spriggs.
“Lucius!” he cried, eyes wide, uncertain what he could have done to deserve such vitriol from a man he considered his friend. “What are you do- Oh God, what is that smell?”
The scribe seethed through his teeth, “That smell is me. I haven’t had a bath or a breath of fresh air in six bloody weeks.”
Stede’s head was reeling,“Why on Earth not?”
“Because your fucking maniac of a boyfriend tried to drown me!” He had released Stede by now, instead backing up into the safety of Pete’s arms, even as he continued to stare at a befuddled Stede.
“What? No.. He isn’t- He what?”
Stede stood in shock as Lucius’ harrowing story was retold, a tearful Fang helping to fill in the bits and pieces where he could. It was almost too much for Stede to believe, but based on the other man’s appearance (and scent) he knew it had to be true. Edward had attempted to kill him.
It was difficult for Stede to wrap his head around; how to react, how to feel. He was angry, he was hurt, but he was also partially at fault.
Black Pete swore revenge, and the other began to escalate their own grievances, but Stede was able to talk them down for at least a little while. Long enough for everyone to have time to think and try to talk it through.
First, they needed food and rest - in whichever order they preferred.
By the time tempers simmered to a low boil, hours had passed, and Stede realized there had been no sign of Izzy since he’d left him with Ed. He pulled Oluwande aside and asked, “Have you seen Izzy?”
“No, not since earlier. He wasn’t in his room when we swept the ship,” he replied with a shrug. “Do you want us to search again?”
“I can search, if you like. I’ll be certain to make it very obvious when I find him,” Roach offered, a gleam in his eye, knife still clutched in his hand.
“Ah, no. That’s quite alright, but thank you,” Stede replied, patting his cook’s arm. “Why don’t you get some rest? I imagine we’ll need to arrange a meal before too long.”
The others shrugged their assent and left to find themselves a place to rest, to continue basking in the presence of their friends and family. Stede made his way through the ship, checking the various nooks and crannies with as much caution as possible, not wanting to interrupt any.. reunions. He found Izzy in the very last place he would have expected to find the prickly first mate: stretched along a bench in the brig, the barred door shut and keys tossed on the floor several feet away from reaching distance.
“Izzy? What on Earth are you doing in there?” Stede asked, trying to make sense of the image in front of him.
The older man grunted from where he lay, arm tossed over his eyes. “Saving us both time.”
“What exactly does that mean?” he asked once it became clear he wasn’t going to receive any elaboration.
“Still as sharp as ever, Bonnet.”
Stede pulled a face at what was clearly an insult. In his defense, he’d been awake for nearly 24 hours; he was both physically and mentally exhausted. He collected the set of keys from the wooden floor, staring at it, confounded, until the explanation clicked into place. “You locked yourself in?”
“What the fuck do you think?” came his response, but it was lacking much of its usual bite.
“But..” Stede floundered for a response, brain slogging through all the things he wanted to say. “You aren’t a prisoner, Izzy.” “The ship’s been invaded. My captain is incapacitated. Of course I’m a fucking prisoner,” he growled, lifting his arm to finally look him in the eyes.
They stayed that way for a moment, simply sizing each other up. Exhaustion lined both of their faces. Stede wasn’t certain what had caused Izzy’s state, but he could make an educated guess that it had something to do with Ed, the same as his own. Or, he supposed, he was really the only one responsible for his current state. And in a round about way, that made him responsible for Izzy’s as well.
“Well, as the only one on this ship with the authority to hold hostages, I regret to inform you that you are wrong. I am taking no prisoners this morning.”
Izzy breathed a rough sigh that held all the weight of his annoyance. “Death it is, then.”
Stede rolled his eyes at the man’s dramatics as he stepped forward to unlock the cell door. “No one is going to kill you,” he replied as the door swung open.
There was no movement from inside the cell. Izzy stared blankly up at the ceiling, jaw muscles clenching almost imperceptibly. “Not you, perhaps.” Before Stede could puzzle over what he meant or formulate a response, the small man turned his back to him, curling up on his side. “If you aren’t tossing me overboard, at least let me get some fucking sleep.”
There was more that needed to be said, but Stede felt the fight bleed out of him. Neither of them was in any state to continue this right now. There would be other chances to say things yet unsaid.
Stede turned to leave, pausing as he heard that gravelly voice once more. “Is he alright?”
He looked back and saw Izzy glancing at him wearily over his shoulder. He looked.. sad, in a way Stede had never seen before. “He was, when I left him. I can wake you if something happens,” he offered.
Izzy considered it for a moment. Then, he nodded, and turned back to face the wall.
Stede left him to sleep.