Chapter Text
Ed’s been watching Izzy curiously for most of the day. He has a habit of slinking about with his arms crossed around his chest and an eyebrow raised in near-perpetual incredulity over something the Revenge crew’s gotten up to which probably doesn’t warrant such levels of scrutiny. Nervous body language isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Izzy, though, who seems almost chronically nervous and uptight despite Ed’s many efforts over the years to mellow him.
It’s only been worse recently. The last few months have been a whirlwind. Izzy hates change, and in a matter of weeks everything in Ed’s life, and Izzy’s by extension, had changed, despite his efforts to stop it.
Sometimes he’s surprised Izzy’s still here. He supposes when things finally settled down, Izzy realized he could either deal with sailing with Stede or be alone again like after their duel. Ed had appealed to him on the basis of their long time working together, asking him to stay, and admitting that he didn’t want to see Izzy alone and estranged from him like Jack and basically every pirate ‘friend’ he’d ever had. He still wanted to have his first mate, and Izzy didn’t truly seem to want to be alone.
Izzy’s trying, Ed thinks as he watches Izzy watch the crew work. There’s not much to be done, as far as Ed knows. He says something to Pete, who’s somewhat lazily swabbing the deck, and Pete just nods and says something back, not appearing threatened or insulted. Ed hums and leans against the wall, watching as Izzy turns his own gaze back out to the sea.
The lack of physical violence is already a major improvement, which Ed reminds Stede of when he makes otherwise valid complaints about Izzy’s behavior. Ed just expected Izzy to become less nervous, eventually, now that he’s settled into a new routine aboard the Revenge.
He’s not being particularly harsh on the crew, but he’s not interacting with them much at all. He doesn’t speak much to anyone, even Edward, and he seems upset whenever he’s faced with Stede and Ed acting like they like one another, frequently leaving the area if Ed and Stede are hanging out together there. It makes it a bit difficult to be a friend to him when he avoids Ed the second Ed wants the company of his partner and co-captain.
Now, like every other time he does it recently, Ed notices Izzy’s clear discomfort when he wraps an arm around Stede’s waist as he comes over to greet him. Izzy curls in on himself again, hiding in the corner, gaze trained on the two of them. Ed looks at him, raising an eyebrow, and Izzy scowls and looks away, turning his attention to a bit of nearby rigging that needs no work as far as Ed knows.
Stede notices Ed’s attention on Izzy and follows his gaze. He frowns.
“I wish I understood what his issue was,” Stede muses quietly.
Ed hums, squeezing Stede’s hip. “Me too, mate,” he admits.
“Maybe you should talk to him?” Stede offers.
Ed sighs, looking away as Izzy looks at them. “Iz isn’t the easiest to talk to,” he admits. “Especially lately.”
“Mm,” Stede agrees. “Though you are in the best position to speak with him, I think.”
Ed nods and sighs, looking out at the ship. “Yeah,” he agrees. He slips his arm out from around Stede’s waist and takes in a steadying breath as he strolls across the deck to speak with his first mate.
“Iz,” he says in greeting, clapping a hand on Izzy’s shoulder.
“Captain,” Izzy answers before turning to lean over the railing and gaze over the side of the ship.
“Doing alright?” he asks, also gazing out at the horizon.
Izzy swallows. “What do you mean?” he asks, voice a bit strained, though he’s clearly trying to come across as unmoved.
Ed shrugs. “Dunno. Just in general. Been lots of new shit and changes. Lots of drama finally settling down. And I know that Bonnet’s crew and style have been getting on your nerves. Don’t want you freaking out and taking off on me or something.”
Izzy rolls his eyes. “I’m not taking off,” he says. “If I were, I’d tell you.”
“Sure,” Ed says, not so sure at all. He glances back at Stede who speaks to Oluwande about their plans for the day, far from the isolated corner of the ship Izzy’s tucked himself into.
“You know you don’t have to avoid the crew. I mean they’re not gonna throw you overboard or anything. Anymore,” he says. Not since Ed and Stede have been co-captaining at least.
“I know,” Izzy says shortly.
“And you’re sure you’re good for the raid?” Ed asks.
Izzy scoffs. “I’m sure, Captain,” he says as he looks out into the distance. “It’s just gonna be a bit tedious, is all.”
“Ah cheer up,” Ed says. “Might get to stab a bloke or two.”
Izzy laughs hallowly, not looking over.
Ed stands there for a few minutes more, trying to suss out Izzy’s mood. He’s not dripping venom the way he often is the second Ed tries to suggest he’s not doing perfectly fine, but he doesn’t seem too grateful to have Ed probing him either.
“Well, if you need me, you know where to find me,” Ed says and puts a hand on Izzy’s shoulder, squeezing. “Right?”
“Yeah. Right,” Izzy says, and he sounds far off like his mind is elsewhere. So, Ed just claps him on the shoulder again and leaves him to look out at the ocean.
They have a raid today.
It’s a bit last minute, but it’s an easy job: a ship with no canons and limited personnel. If Ed went aboard, or if they were sailing with his flag, the ship would probably surrender immediately. That’s why Ed and Izzy agree to let the Revenge target it on short notice and without many of the Anne’s crew for backup.
The entire time they planned it Izzy was clearly unimpressed, and the more excited Stede got the more visibly annoyed Izzy got, but when Ed pulled him aside to ask if he’d rather just forget it, he quipped something about preferring the crew to at least actually pirate , even if it was subpar pirating by his standards. So, the plan remains.
When they’re within range the Revenge crew, Stede, Izzy, and a few men off the Anne set out to board the ship. Ed stays behind and below the deck, content enough to spend the time thinking. It’s been a while now of being around the crew and working with Stede to rebuild a cozy home among them. He’s glad to get a moment alone to consider everything that’s happened and where he is now.
For some reason, though, he finds his thoughts keep returning to Izzy. Everything finally seems so good, and there Izzy is, always skirting along the edges of Ed’s happiness like he can’t dare get close to it. He just wishes he could do something.
Ed used to be able to do something, at least sometimes. He used to find Izzy crying softly to himself, often after getting sick, after a particularly restless night or week, or even after a few near-death experiences. It began when they first started sailing together on a particularly anxiety-ridden, stormy, night. Ed noticed his strange behavior and approached him gently, taking him away from the rest of the crew and staying with him. It continued to happen rather infrequently from then on.
Ed would talk to him, quietly and gently, in a way that the usual Izzy would push back against, but this Izzy would focus intently on. He always calmed down as he listened. He would grab and hold onto Ed for reassurance. He would get this look in his eyes that was far off and distant, as he lost words and relied on Ed to figure out how to help him.
They never talked about it when it wasn’t happening. Ed would be there for Izzy when it was and keep it to himself after. They’d both known the crew wouldn’t see Izzy the same if they knew he sometimes broke down into what was essentially a crying, wide-eyed, touch-starved, baby.
Izzy only ever referred to it as feeling “small,” when he did very rarely mention it at all. Ed never pressed him to talk about it. He made sure he was there when it did happen on those rare times to offer comfort, as it often came with tears and anxiety for Izzy, but the ritual of sorts went largely unspoken.
If Ed’s honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He remembers the strange rush of something in his chest he got when Izzy came to him for comfort, clearly out of it and asking for him in a different, softer voice. He remembers how much better Izzy used to seem after those times spent with Ed, curled up in his arms and small. He would be a bit embarrassed, but he wouldn’t be a ball of nerves the next day. The best moods came after those strange, oddly soft, nights.
If Ed’s honest with himself, he misses it. He can’t remember the last time Izzy came to him for it. It’s been many months at least. Maybe even years.
Ed finds his mind drifting back to those nights rather often recently, as Izzy continues to avoid him and the crew outside of necessary business. It must be because he keeps catching this look of something in Izzy’s eyes. It never stays long enough for Ed to fully recognize it, but he’s noticed the look come and go over and over again since Stede’s been back. He’s pretty sure it’s the same sort of look that he would get when he was “small,” but Ed hasn’t the faintest idea how to bring it up with Izzy, or if he even should.
He’s still thinking about it when the crew returns not too long later with a dinghy full of their first load of loot. Stede immediately comes to him to fill him in, and he watches with a frown as Izzy sulks by when he comes back aboard. He doesn’t glance up at Ed or Stede, immediately going to sort out the boxes of loot as they’re loaded aboard.
From Stede’s undoubtedly somewhat exaggerated tales of glory, a report of zero crew members being majorly injured, and everyone’s satisfaction with the bounty they’re loading, Ed thinks he can safely assume it went well. Izzy half-heartedly attempts to rally the crew, whose exuberance in light of their small victory is admittedly quite excessive, into finishing the sorting and storing of their loot with little success.
Ed listens to Stede’s stories of the few aboard that dared to fight the pirates and how they met dramatic and gruesome ends, members of the crew occasionally interjecting to correct or add details. It’s certainly nothing compared to the majority of Ed’s raid experiences, but he happily lets Stede and the crew tell their tales. It’s interesting to see the job he’s found so tiresome recently through the fresh excited eyes of Stede and his crew.
Eventually, the conversation pivots away from just the raid, and Ed continues to glance across the deck at Izzy. He seems to give up on getting the loot sorted tonight, once again tucking himself into a shadowy nook of the ship away from everyone else to drink.
He realizes then, as he watches Izzy across the deck, that he’s wearing the same look Ed’s been thinking about. He has it now, a foggy, far-off look, as he hangs over the railing, fingernails scratching idly at the rope wrapped around it. Ed frowns, wondering if something about the raid had bothered him. Despite Ed’s comment earlier about being around for Izzy to find, Izzy’s avoided him entirely apart from quipped complaints directed to no one in particular.
“That sounds alright, love?” Stede asks, looking at Ed expectantly and it takes Ed a second to realize he’s being spoken to.
“Hm? What?” Ed asks, snapping out of his thoughts and turning his gaze back on Stede.
“I was just saying I’m going to head to the room for a bit, probably, while Roach finishes the food up. We can eat with the crew. I just wanted to get a bit settled down after everything,” Stede says.
“Oh, yeah, sure, mate,” Ed answers quickly, looking back at Izzy. “I’ll probably be in in a sec.”
Stede follows his gaze. “Alright,” he says, then presses a kiss to Ed’s cheek. Ed smiles and takes his eyes off Izzy to watch Stede walk off to their quarters before he strolls over to speak to Izzy for the second time today.
It takes Izzy a moment to notice him.
“Captain,” he says, when he finally does, snapping out of his stupor. The foggy far off look leaves his eyes a bit and he looks at Ed, something strange and cold taking its place. “Did you need something?” There’s already some amount of irritation in his tone, but Ed ignores it.
“Just wanted to say hi, check in,” he says, leaning against the rail. “Been a bit of a busy day.”
“Not the kind of busy that involves hard work, clearly,” Izzy quips shortly, looking out at the deck full of boxes and loot that have yet to be properly stored.
Ed ignores the snark. Things would all be put away and sorted by now back on the Queen Anne, Ed can give Izzy that. Still, the raid is quite the success for a crew that’s seen as little action as the Revenge crew has, and not every ship can be as tightly run as the Queen Anne was at her prime.
“Yeah, well, I mean, the raid went well, right?” Ed says, looking back over at the crew as they drink, laugh, and chat.
Izzy shrugs and glances over at Ed. “Could’ve been smoother,” he says.
Ed rolls his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”
They stand in uncomfortable silence for a second and Izzy returns his gaze out to the sea.
Ed takes in a breath. “Hey, you know, Fang and Ivan said they’ve barely seen ya, lately,” he says and Izzy clenches his teeth. Ed doesn’t notice, continuing. “I’ve barely seen you, either, really.” He looks over at Izzy.
“Yeah, well, you haven’t been seeing much outside of Bonnet have you?” Izzy retorts, still looking off into the dark. The strange foggy look is present in his eyes.
Ed ignores the comment, still focused on the look. “Look, Stede and I are gonna have dinner with the crew in a bit,” he says, making his voice softer. “It’d be cool if you joined us,” he offers, turning away from the sea and toward Izzy.
Izzy stands up straight and fixes him with an unreadable look, opening and then closing his mouth. “I think—” He steps forward. “I’d rather you maim me in my fucking sleep again.” He says it quietly but casually, the same way all his complaints have fallen from his lips today, but it hits Ed kind of like a sucker punch.
Izzy gives it just a second before going as if to walk away past him. Ed scoffs, grabbing him by the wrist. “Hey, what the hell, mate?” he breathes out, bewildered. “I was just trying to be nice,” he says.
“ Nice , yeah,” Izzy says mockingly, twisting out of Ed’s grip, but turning back toward him. “Look I’ll let you have your roleplay with Bonnet or whatever, I guess, but you don’t need to drag me into it. It doesn’t make sense with me in it anyway,” he says.
“What the hell are you on about, Iz?” Ed searches Izzy’s gaze for something, not sure what he’s seeing there. The foggy look hasn’t gone away, and it doesn’t match the snide way these words fall from Izzy’s lips.
Izzy scoffs. “You know. All this shit ,” he spits out, standing up straighter and stepping into Ed’s space again. “Playing house with the crew or whatever. Hanging all over each other on the deck. Holding hands, telling stories, making flower crowns, whatever fuzzy cuddly bullshit you spend your time on now rather than pirating. Ever since that asshole un-abandoned you.” He nods toward Stede and the crew.
“Oi,” Ed snaps and stands up straighter. He puts a hand against Izzy’s chest and pushes him back toward the rail. He steps toward him as his back hits it, caging in the shorter man. “Do we have a fucking problem, Hands?” he asks, his voice gruff and low and his gaze severe.
There’s something besides the fog in Izzy’s eyes for a second, something clear and fearful, but it slips away as quickly as it comes. He swallows and averts his gaze.
“No, sir,” he says, his voice suddenly quiet and meek. He quickly pushes past Ed, head down, and makes a beeline across the deck toward the store rooms.
Ed watches him go, his heart beating quickly. Some of the crew are looking at them, he realizes, but they quickly look away when he notices them. He storms off toward his quarters, still seeing red when he bursts in.
“Oh! Ed,” Stede says in surprise from the settee, setting down his book. “Is everything alright?”
Ed doesn’t know what to do with the anxious energy that’s now surging under his skin as he tries to process the short heated interaction. “Alright?” he repeats. “No, everything’s not alright,” he says through gritted teeth, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Oh,” Stede mumbles. “Was it Izzy?”
“I just don’t get what he fucking wants from me,” Ed says and kicks a pouf over. “All he does is fight with me whenever I try to reach out to him. But then he just fucking sulks around like a pathetic bloody fuckin stray when I don’t.” He sighs, exasperated, and falls to his knees behind the settee, leaning over the back.
Stede turns to him and winces sympathetically. “Another one of his sour moods then,” he presumes.
“I fucking guess! He just…said all this shit then he ran off,” Ed says, shrugging his arms and shaking his head. “Like what am I supposed to take from that? He hates it here? Hates me now? So, why does he fucking stay?” He sinks to his knees and puts his head in his arms on the back of the settee, replaying the interaction in his mind, trying to figure out what Izzy had actually been trying to communicate, if anything besides irritation.
He looks up at Stede and pouts. “I wish I could just talk to him like you,” he says. “But he just hates all the feelings stuff so much. I can’t even, like, blame him really, with all the stuff we’ve been through. Once you start with this feelings shit it’s bloody hard to stop…” He gazes into Stede’s eyes as he thinks about it. He sighs, leaning his head against his arm.
Stede frowns, reaching to tuck a fallen strand of Ed’s hair back behind his ear. “Do you think it would help to try to talk to him again now?” he asks.
Ed shrugs. “What if he just fights me again?”
Stede hums thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I suppose…don’t give him the fight?”
Ed frowns and thinks about that for a moment. “He ran off toward the ship stores,” he says. “Used to hide down there on the Anne when he was sick or upset.” Ed swallows. “I think…I think I’ll try and talk to him.” He stands.
Stede reaches to take and squeeze his hand. “I’ll be here,” he says, and Ed smiles.
He leans down to peck a kiss against Stede’s lips and takes a second to appreciate the smile that he leaves there. “I love you,” he says.
“I love you, too, dear,” Stede answers brightly. “Do let me know if you need any help with anything.”
Ed nods. “Thanks, mate. I think I’ll be okay.”
He finds Izzy in the back of the storerooms, pressed in the corner between a wall and a line of barrels. It’s dark, lit only by a couple of lanterns in the middle of the room. Still, Ed can see well enough to tell that the foggy look has almost completely taken over Izzy’s gaze, as he stares off into the middle distance. Ed carefully sits down in front of him, leaving a bit of room between them.
“Iz?” Ed asks softly. “Hey.”
Izzy snaps his head up to look at Ed, but the foggy look only lessens a little.
“So, what’s going on?” Ed asks.
Izzy frowns, tightening his arms around himself. “Nothing,” he says.
“Nothing?” Ed repeats. “Mate, I do know you actually. You’ve been weird for weeks. If you wanna pick fights with me until I eventually get pissed off and let you leave, fine. But…” He sighs. “I could help, Iz. I used to, remember? I used to help you, be there for you,” he says, reaching to touch Izzy’s cheek.
Izzy shakes his head and closes his eyes, pulling back. He buries his face in his knees. “Captain fucking Blackbeard doesn’t fucking…babysit. Especially not fully grown men,” he says, his voice quiet, rushed, and ashamed.
Ed frowns and pulls back, sitting on his legs. “Yeah, well, in case you never got the fucking memo, man, I’m not just Blackbeard. I’m also Ed . Someone who thought Izzy was his friend until all this shit happened with Stede.”
Izzy glances up at him then clenches his teeth and looks away. “You don’t need me as a friend, you need me as a first mate,” he says.
“Guess I was fucking crazy enough to think a person could be two things at once,” Ed deadpans.
Izzy stares at the floor. “Well, what the fuck do you need me to be your friend for, really? You have Stede. He likes this Ed. He doesn’t need Blackbeard.”
Ed tilts his head back against the wall and looks up at the ceiling. He sighs. “I love Stede,” he says. “I like who I am around him. I like this crew. But…” He looks back at Izzy. “Come on, you’ve known me for ages, mate. You’ve seen shit that I don’t think I’ll ever talk about. Sides of me I don’t want anyone to see. You know me, Iz. You’re my friend. Even if you want to pretend you just work for Blackbeard or whatever.”
Izzy looks down. He’s clearly frustrated, fists balled up and jaw clenched tightly. He’s pent-up and so close to a breakdown. Ed’s not sure what will push him over the edge or what piece will finally topple whatever pile has been building in his brain, but he kind of wants it to happen soon. For everything to just break so that he can maybe help Izzy put it back together in a slightly more functional way.
He repeats what Izzy had just said in his mind. Stede doesn’t need Blackbeard. Why does Izzy? Especially when he’s just implied that Blackbeard wouldn’t care for him during his breakdowns. Why doesn’t he want Ed’s help?
He decides to push a little bit.
“Izzy, if you’re not letting me help you, I don’t know what we’re supposed to be doing here,” he says, gesturing between the two of them.
Izzy closes his eyes and brings his hands up to his head, covering his face. “I don’t know,” he cries, like the words are being pulled forcefully from his throat.
“You said you need Blackbeard. Why?” Ed asks.
Izzy sniffles. “Million reasons,” he says, looking at the ground. He swallows. “He’s my captain. He’s ruthless. He makes me scared and safe and small.” He says the last words extremely quietly.
Ed frowns, trying to make sense of Izzy’s logic. “Wouldn’t you just like to be safe? Not the scared bit?” he asks.
Izzy shakes his head. “Have to get scared. Have to…” He looks down at the floor between Ed and him, the same far-off look taking him over again. “Can only feel small if you make me,” he admits.
What? Since when? Ed feels a pit open in his stomach as he thinks back over the random-seeming small fights that Izzy’s started lately, contextualizing them with this information.
“You—” A nasty feeling takes him over and he grits his teeth, trying to compose himself well enough to speak somewhat calmly. “You can’t do that, Iz, you can’t fucking piss me off on purpose and fight me just so you can have a cry without feeling like a pansy or whatever,” he says. “I don’t want to scare or hurt you. It’s fucked to try and make me.”
Izzy’s quiet, staring into blank space to the right of Ed. “I want you to want to hurt me,” he admits, so quietly Ed can barely catch it.
“I don’t!” Ed answers quickly, unsure what to even do with the confession. “Holy shit, Iz. I don’t. I can hurt any piece of shit I want mate, I’m fucking Blackbeard. I don’t like that part with you. I like the part where I’m allowed to hold you and talk to you. Where you trust me and feel safe. I—I’ve always liked that part. I like you, Iz. I never…I don’t...” He sighs. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore Iz.”
Ed realizes then that Izzy’s crying, silent tears slipping down his cheeks. He reaches a hand to cup Izzy’s cheek and try to wipe away some of the tears. Izzy shrinks away on instinct, but he quickly rights himself and blinks up at Ed, leaning into his palm. Ed smiles at him slightly.
“So, does that mean that you’ve been feeling…small…without telling me, sometimes?” Ed asks, holding Izzy’s gaze and dropping his hand to Izzy’s knee.
He thinks of all the times Izzy’s tested him in recent months the way he had earlier, picked a fight, asked to be put in place, only to avoid Ed for hours or even days afterward. It makes Ed feel ill to think that he was doing it to bring up this small, scared, feeling, only to wallow alone in it.
Izzy sniffs, looking away. He seems to start to shake his head, and Ed frowns.
“Don’t lie to me, Iz,” Ed adds, his voice slightly sterner, though still soft.
Izzy hesitates. He sniffles, more tears slipping down his cheeks, and then he nods.
“I hate this,” he cries, and his voice breaks around the words, pained. “That I—that I need it…”
“Oh, Izzy…” Ed says and pulls his hand back to open his arms in invitation, patting his lap. “Come here.” He sighs.
Izzy hesitates again, looking Ed over for a moment before crawling slowly out of his safe corner and into Ed’s lap.
Something happens then, inside of him. Izzy’s not sure what exactly. Maybe it’s triggered by the muscle memory of every time he’d been pressed up against Ed just like this, years ago, gathered into his lap like a small child. But all of a sudden he’s sobbing, and he’s small. He’s so small, and he would be so scared, but he recognizes the chest he’s pressed against, the arms around him, and the voice that’s quickly and softly shushing him, and he isn’t afraid.
“Whoa, Iz, shh, there we go,” Ed’s saying, tucking Izzy’s face against his shoulder, holding his head in one hand.
“Eddie,” Izzy gasps, fists clutching onto the linen Ed’s wearing.
“Oh,” Ed says softly, holding onto Izzy tighter. “Oh, hey. Hey, little guy. I’ve got ya.”
Izzy whines and continues to cry, sobbing so loudly that Ed’s glad they’re hidden away down here, hoping none of the crew are still somehow over-hearing.
“M-m-m-” Izzy struggles to verbalize something as he gasps for air and tries to hold back tears.
“Hey,” Ed says and pulls back to look at Izzy. “Shh, shh, just breathe. Breathe first, talk second. You’re alright.”
Izzy sniffles and tries to catch his breath. He takes a moment to get his breathing back to normal, Ed softly encouraging him and stroking a hand up and down his arm.
“M-missed you,” he manages after a moment.
Ed’s heart melts and he pulls Izzy back in, pressing his face to the side of Izzy’s head as he holds him. “I missed you too, bud,” he says, hearing his own voice crack slightly.
He wishes he could remember exactly when Izzy stopped coming to him for this. It still seems to him like one day he had been holding a small Izzy like this, and the next it was as though that small version of him never even existed. But here he is again, and he’s admitted to feeling this way by himself, too.
“How often have you been getting like this all alone?” Ed asks, swallowing.
Izzy sniffles. “Not often. Usually just at night.”
“But you stopped coming to me,” Ed says. “For this part.” He squeezes his arms around Izzy.
Izzy sniffles and nods.
“Why, Iz? You know I don’t mind it.”
Izzy shrugs. “Wasn’ about you,” he says and sniffles. “Too…too hard,” he says and shakes his head, burying his face in Ed’s shoulder. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Okay,” Ed says softly. “Alright. We don’t need to talk about tough stuff anymore. It’s okay. Thank you for talking to me a bit.” He’s gotten more out of Izzy since coming down to talk tonight than he has in months, and he knows if he wants to encourage that kind of trust he should leave it for now.
Izzy sniffles and holds onto Ed’s neck. “Wha’re we gonna do now?” he slurs, words barely clear enough for Ed to parse.
“Is there something specific you want to do, Iz?” Ed asks softly.
Izzy shrugs. “Just…wanna stay with you, please,” he says, and it fills Ed’s stomach with butterflies. It’s been so long since he’s had Izzy like this.
“Of course, babes, not gonna leave you alone,” Ed promises, pressing a kiss to Izzy’s temple. “Want to move to your room?” he asks.
Izzy shudders and shakes his head.
“Okay. Is Stede’s and my room fine?”
Izzy stills at Stede’s name, and Ed’s not sure if he heard the entire question. He stares out at the barrels across the room, falling a bit limp against Ed’s chest.
“Iz?”
Izzy sniffles and grips Ed’s shirt again. “Want you,” he says.
“I’ll stay with ya, Iz, I promise,” Ed says. “I can make Stede leave us alone in the room if that’s what you want?”
Izzy shakes his head like it’s not what he wants, but he seems upset, bringing his fists up to rub hard at his eyes.
Ed frowns, confused. “You want Stede to stay?” he asks.
Izzy quickly shakes his head no again, rubbing his eyes some more.
“That’s okay. He won’t mind if I kick him out for a little while,” Ed assures.
Izzy whines in the back of his throat, frustrated that his words aren’t immediately coming to him and that he’s feeling so many things at once.
“What tell him?” he manages to ask.
“Oh, I’ll just tell him you’re sick or something if that’s okay. I don’t have to tell him about this. He wouldn’t be weird about it, though, Iz, if you ever did want me to tell him. I think he’d get it.”
Izzy whines at the musing and shakes his head intensely, hiding his face in Ed’s chest again.
“Okay, no, I’m sorry. We don’t have to tell him,” Ed says quickly, running his fingers through Izzy’s hair. “Just let me bring you up there and take care of you, yeah? You don’t have to say anything or look at anyone, alright?”
Izzy sniffles, considering for a moment as he leans against Ed’s chest. He nods eventually, and Ed kisses him on the forehead.
“Good lad,” he says. “Come on, let’s get you up.”