Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He could leave at any time. He could. It was all within his power. He was strong enough. He could walk away, make it all stop. He was in control of that, always had been, always will be.

That was the mantra Izzy kept repeating to himself as he parked up his car in the street behind the bar. Turning off the engine, he let his hands rest on the steering wheel for a moment, taking slow, deep breaths. No one would know. He just needed to act normal. He’d been doing that for months now, no one had said a word.

Izzy glanced down at the tops of his arms, running his eyes over the fingertip-shaped bruises there. That was all he had to hide today, that was easy. Reaching into the back of the car, he grabbed an old, zip-up hoodie, tugging it forward between the seats and shrugging it on. A brief smile passed his lips as he realised it was Ed’s, and that must make it at least six years old. No… seven? Time really did fucking fly.

He looked up into the rear-view again, checking one last time that the slap to his cheek from last night hadn’t been hard enough to mark. There was maybe the slightest of redness, but nothing that was obvious and he couldn’t pass off as simply naturally irritated skin. Satisfied he looked put together enough to get away with all of it for another day, Izzy climbed out of the car, pulling his keys from the ignition. He slammed the door hard, because the damn thing wouldn’t close if he didn’t, and on the third attempt at hitting the button on his key fob to lock it, the lights finally flashed and he heard the click of the locks. Piece of shit. He supposed that was what he got for still having the car he had before the bar was a success. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford a new one, he really could now the bar’s profits were steadily rising every year. It was just something he hadn’t got around to, because, well, he just didn’t need to.

He shoved his keys into the hoodie pocket and fumbled with the zip for a second as he crossed the street, finally getting it to catch and pulling it up three-quarters of the way. Last thing he needed was it slipping from his shoulders and showing the tops of his arms or something stupid. There was a delivery coming in today, and boxes would need to be shifted and hauled into the bar. As he pulled open the heavy metal back door to the bar, he frowned a little at the realisation his muscles ached. He’d just have to pass it off as going too hard at the gym, simple enough.

As he stepped into the stockroom of the bar, blaring music met his ears and he hesitated. Someone had actually listened to him and got in early to help with the delivery. The smug satisfaction that he had been listened to for once was wiped from his face when he realised it was Taylor Swift being played far too loud for 8:45 on a Thursday morning through the bar’s sound system.

Twatty was in then. Great. The one person that couldn’t lift a fucking notebook, let alone crates of booze.

Izzy made his way through the stockroom to behind the bar, rolling his eyes as he was confronted with Lucius sat up on said bar, coffee mug in hand, and Fang stood next to him, both singing along offensively to the song playing. Not having the patience for that today, Izzy walked straight behind the bar and cranked the volume right down fast, earning him a glare from Lucius and a knowing smirk from Fang.

“Good morning sunshine,” Lucius drawled with his usual, dripping sarcasm. Izzy simply raised his hand and flipped him off, turning away quickly to the coffee machine and slotting in a shot of grounds, sliding a mug underneath and jabbing his finger at the button.

“When’s the delivery due, boss?” Fang asked, batting at Lucius’s hand to get him to move.

“Fifteen minutes, but they’ll probably be late. Fuckers usually are,” he grumbled, glaring down at the hot coffee as it ran through the machine, not fast enough in his opinion.

When his coffee was (finally) finished, he pulled it from the machine and turned just in time to see Ed wander through the door, face buried in his phone, humming softly to himself. The sight earned itself another eyeroll from Izzy, who took a sip of his coffee and quickly ran over in his head his version of events last night again in case he got asked any questions.

“Morning…” Ed mumbled absentmindedly, shoving his phone back in his pocket. He ran his eyes over his three members of staff and smirked. “Delivery day! Glad to see everyone is excited!” Simultaneously, Izzy and Lucius raised their middle finger to him, only making him laugh harder. They were more similar than they would ever admit…

“Lucius, you and Fang head in to the stockroom and start making some space to rotate. Iz and I will go and sort the paperwork.”

Lucius muttered something along the lines of a sarcastic ‘yes sir’ before he was jumping from the bar and wandering away with a total lack of urgency.

Izzy had to chuckle to himself as he sipped his coffee again, glancing over at Ed and raising an eyebrow. “I see you spent the morning making your boyfriend blush,” he smirked, nodding towards the very obvious mark on Ed’s neck.

Ed laughed softly and shrugged. “Think he made me blush this morning actually, mate.”

Izzy grimaced and set his mug down, stepping up to the tills and entering his code, bringing up the stock lists. “Too much information, thank you,” he muttered, but there was still a smirk on his lips.

“Yeah yeah,” Ed retorted, stepping up beside him and sliding an arm around his shoulders. “Hey…”

“Hmm?” Izzy tore his eyes away from the screen to look up at him.

“Happy four-year divorce anniversary,” Ed grinned, his voice gentle.

Izzy glanced back at the screen, to the top right where the date and time was displayed. May 8th. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Shit… four years,” he mumbled, looking back up at Ed again. “Happy divorce anniversary,” he returned with a genuine smile, one almost exclusively reserved for Ed. The arm around his shoulders squeezed, fingers curling around the tops of his arms, pressing in to the bruises and he had to consciously /not/ flinch. But Ed was warm against him, hugging Izzy to his chest, leaning down to drop a kiss to the top of his head against his greying hair.

Four years since that fucking piece of paper landed on his doorstep. Four years since it felt like his world was shattering around him, even though he knew it was for the best.

They were just kids when they met, young and stupid. Every day was an adventure, every day was the best day of their lives. They were each other’s escape, each other’s fucking saviours. They worked three jobs each to earn enough to get a shitty flat above an awful off license, which became their home for years to come. And sure, maybe Izzy was far too optimistic, far too caught up in the whirlwind, when he decided to drop to one knee in front of Edward as he sat on that fucking awful, stained, faded sofa they’d actually found in a skip one night and had spent three hours trying to get up the stairs into their flat. And sure, maybe Ed was just as caught up in it, because he had said yes.

When they finally got married, when they finally actually did it, it was years later, and they had a house and cars and managed a bar together that three years later Ed would buy from the retiring owner, and Izzy would stay manager, and from the outside their life seemed so put together, so /right/.

And it just wasn’t. Nothing about it seemed to be right. Ed felt trapped, Izzy felt used. Depression and anxiety spiralled. Work would take over, renovations to the bar would occupy all hours. They argued, they fought, they said things they didn’t mean. But Ed never, ever, not once, touched him. Not like that. No one ever had, not until CJ.

He and Ed never fell out of love, that much was clear to everyone, even them. They still loved each other just as hard, just as deeply, just as burning bright red and tumbling from the stars as they did on day one. Didn’t mean their lives together were compatible though. Didn’t mean they could love each other like that and not hurt each other too. Didn’t mean they could make it work, being that reliant on each other. The hardest realisation for them both was that they had to love each other from a distance. A close distance, maybe, but distance nonetheless.

Separating was the best decision they ever made. Izzy disappeared for a few months, to clear his head, and came back knowing it was the right thing for them. Came back ready to keep working at the bar, make something of the business, patch up his friendship with Ed, move on. And he came back to Stede. Stede he loathed, Stede that seemed to have Ed wrapped around his little finger, Stede that seemed to make Ed deliriously happy, Stede that Izzy now actually really liked, enjoyed the company of, and had to admit was the best thing that ever happened to Ed…

Izzy was pulled from his reminiscing thoughts by another squeeze to his shoulder, Ed pressing closer, his body heat radiating against him. The warmth, the gentle touch, the sheer, unbridled /kindness/ of the gesture had Izzy melting against Ed’s chest for a minute. And he let himself. He was going to let himself. He couldn’t really remember the last time someone touched him gently, not with all the recent mistakes he had made. So fuck it. He needed to let himself, just for a moment. He didn’t want Ed back, not really, not anymore. That feeling had passed just over a year ago now, when he had spent a weekend staying with Ed and Stede and couldn’t escape the fact Ed was doing better than he ever had before without him. And yet somehow he still had a place in Ed’s life, in /their/ life, and he could accept that. It was still hard, but he could accept it. The only reason he pressed himself into Ed was out of desperation for something soft, a weak thought he barely wanted to admit to himself.

Far too fast, faster than he ever would have wanted, the touch was gone, Ed’s hand was trailing from his shoulders, and the warmth disappeared from his side, and Izzy was left standing there, knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the bar a little too hard. He could tell him. He could tell Ed, so easily, right now. All it would take was a few words, simple words. He didn’t even think Ed would make him explain. He was sure, with every fibre of his being, he could simply breathe ‘he hurts me, Ed’ and that would be it, that would be all that was needed. So why was that so fucking scary?

But before he could take the breath to speak, before he could collapse, weak, at Ed’s feet, before he could beg for his help, for Ed to save him from whatever living fucking hell he had ended up in, there was a shout from the backdoor, and Fang was calling for them that the delivery had arrived.

“That’s our cue. Feeling strong today, Iz?” he teased, knowing full well Izzy worked out twice as much as he did himself, and that Izzy could lift twice as much.

“Fuck off,” Izzy muttered with a grin as he brushed passed him, heading back towards the stockroom. Oh well, one more day going back to CJ wasn’t going to hurt. Except he knew it would…

Chapter Text

“Yeah, and I’m looking at that myself right now and I can tell you it’s wrong!” Izzy pinched the bridge of his nose, gripping the phone in his hand a little too hard and glaring at his laptop screen. “And why the fuck would we have ordered that, we’re a bar!” Izzy glanced up over the screen as Ed walked in. “I’ll take whatever fucking tone I want, it’s your fuck up!” Ed raised an eyebrow and dropped himself in the chair opposite Izzy the other side of the desk. “No, I’ll tell you what, you just lost one of your regulars.” Izzy hung up the phone, flinging it onto the desk and falling back in his chair. “Fucking idiots.”

“Iz, you know I don’t like to question your management style often, but was that the smartest move, mate? They were priced really reasonably.”

Izzy scoffed. “Fuck off, Ed, we can get better. We just need to shop around a bit. I’ll sort it…”

Ed nodded slowly, sitting forward in his chair. “And in the meantime we still have the wrong stock?”

“We have enough to see us through the weekend, I will organise something for next week. We’re closed for half the week anyway, it’ll be fine.” Izzy tried not to sound irritated and defeated at Ed’s questioning. It was his business, he had every right to ask. Still, he felt a little undermined.

“And are you going to tell me what else is going on?” Ed asked, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands.

“What?” Izzy felt a slow panic rise in his chest, his stomach drop, fighting to keep his expression neutral.

“Sure, you aren’t the most eloquent person on the phone but that was more swearing than usual, mate.”

Izzy rolled his eyes and stood from behind the desk, slamming his laptop closed, channelling all his anxiety into being a brisk as possible. “Fuck off, they pissed me off. Guy on the other end couldn’t have given less of a shit.” He had to get out of there. If Ed pushed, he may well crack. “Come on, let’s get this fucking sorted, make sure Spriggs hasn’t fucked it even more.”

It took them hours to sort the order and clear the stock. Izzy was just glad they weren’t open that day to have to actually run the damn place whilst sorting out the carnage. Lucius and Fang left in the late afternoon, leaving Izzy and Ed to continue shifting and stacking.

As they worked they talked about nothing in particular – except it was always about Ed and Stede. Ed had always been the talker, and Izzy was a good listener. He found in recent years that seemed to favour a lot of situations. He wasn’t the most open book, wasn’t the most out there person. In fact, that was probably a vast understatement. He hated opening up to people; that meant being vulnerable, being weak, offering up on a platter numerous ways to be hurt. He didn’t exactly have evidence to suggest otherwise. He knew he had gotten quieter as he got older, as he resigned himself to the life he was living. To the lie he was living. So the fact Ed could whitter on endlessly about him and Stede and their latest holiday plans, and Stede’s latest star find, an 18th century side table or some shit that he was going to sell to some rich arse in America for insane amounts of money, or about their cat, Marmalade, who knocked over yet another lamp off the sideboard or… well, Izzy wasn’t too sure he was actually listening anymore. He could just nod along, make the right noises in the right places, and get lost in the gentle lull of Ed’s voice. He used to fall asleep to that voice every night.

“How’s CJ?”

Izzy jolted back into reality, his eyes flashing over to Ed, his brain quickly kicking in and catching up and reminding himself to keep his arms moving, keep placing that box on the shelf… /act normal/.

“He’s fine…” he mumbled in response, and then registered he possibly needed to provide a little more to fit in with that ‘normal’ remit. “He’s still looking for work. Had an interview today.”

“You managing the rent alone?” Ed asked quietly without looking over at Izzy.

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, Ed. You know what you pay me, you know I’m fine.”

Ed did look over then, just a glance, just for a second. “Is he contributing to anything?”

“Is that any of your fucking business?”

They fell silent again for a while, the air growing a little tenser around them. Ed had never liked CJ, even from day one. ‘Just seems like a bit of a dick’ he had said, right at the beginning, when Izzy had bought him into the bar when everyone was there having a drink one Friday night, and CJ had got idiotically drunk and had insulted most of their friends, and any other customer he had come across. Izzy made excuses, of course, he always did. And after the third time that happened, CJ stopped getting invited.

CJ hadn’t really worked the whole time they had been together. Izzy had moved in to his flat pretty fast, to help out with the rent. And slowly helping out became solely paying it. And the rest of the bills. But it was fine, Izzy could afford it… just about. If he stopped adding to his savings and maybe occasionally dipped in to them. The savings he had been working on forever. The savings that were going to buy him his dream house, outright, in one go. The savings that consisted of most of his divorce settlement.

He could say it now. He could breathe it out into the air, quietly. He didn’t have to shout about it, or get upset. He could just say it.

“Ed…” His eyes cast over to the other man, and he had to stop himself from totally crumbling. They’d both aged, of course they had, but Ed was still just as beautiful as the day they met. He’d never really had short hair, but it was especially long now, because Stede liked it, and the front of it was tied back in a messy bun off his face. Izzy could describe his tattoos with his eyes shut, after the years and years he spent tracing them with his fingertips, his lips. And those eyes, a tumbling chasm of warm brown and softness. Izzy had stared into those eyes and seen every single emotion known to the human race cross them.

There must have been something in his voice, in the way Ed’s name fell from his lips, that distracted him. He was reaching up, placing a huge case of beer onto a high shelf. But as Izzy spoke, Ed lost concentration, missed the edge of the shelf, and down it tumbled, hitting the floor with a noise of shattering glass and liquid bursting from it’s casing, high pressured and hissing. It spurted everywhere, like a jet of water from a hose, managing to soak them in the few seconds it took for it to die down and simply ebb onto the floor instead.

“Well done, you twat!” Izzy groaned, stepping back and looking down at himself – the hoodie soaked, his t-shirt underneath soaked, and stinking of beer. Luckily his jeans seemed to have come off relatively unscathed.

Ed looked between Izzy and the mess on the floor for a second, his expression unreadable, before his face creased into that glorious smile, and he started laughing. “Well that fucking sums it up, doesn’t it!”

Izzy sighed in exasperation, leaning back against the opposite shelf and shaking his head slowly, though he couldn’t help the smile pulled from his lips at the sound of Ed’s laugh.

“I’ll go and get a fucking mop,” he grumbled, heading out of the room again.

“Edward, I’ve been here for thirteen hours. Hurry up…”

“Fine, fine… here…” Ed handed him a t-shirt, one of his old Fleetwood Mac band tees. “Change into that, else you’ll stink your car out with beer. CJ will wonder what the hell you’ve been doing!”

Izzy gave a weak laugh that he hoped didn’t sound as fake as it felt. CJ wouldn’t wonder, because he wouldn’t be able to smell the beer on him. Not with how much he stank of it himself, no doubt.

Still, he was sticky and uncomfortable and did stink. But as he began to pull down the zip of the hoodie, he hesitated. He couldn’t take his shirt off in front of Ed. They’d been married, for fuck sake. What they didn’t know about each other’s bodies was… well, it didn’t exist. They were entirely comfortable around each other. If Izzy started making excuses, or left the room to change, Ed would be on it like a hawk. Guaranteed way to get caught, almost as guaranteed as if Ed saw the bruises on his arms, on his chest.

“I don’t think I closed down till 2…” Ed mumbled to himself as he stood from the desk again. “I’ll just go check. Meet you out front?”

Izzy gave a vague ‘mm’ in response as Ed left the room. Thank god. He quickly whipped off the hoodie and tugged the sodden t-shirt with it, pulling the clean one on. That didn’t cover the tops of his arms though. He glanced around the room and saw another jacket laid on the back of a chair. That would do.

Ed didn’t mention his choice of attire. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice at all. As they left the bar, Izzy setting the alarm and locking the doors behind them, his face was buried back in his phone, texting Stede.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Izzy murmured as they crossed the street towards their cars.

“Yeah tomorrow. I will probably be in for afternoon opening. Got that meeting with the council in the morning.”

Izzy grimaced. “Oh yeah… that. Did you want me to come to that?”

“Nah man, no need, I got it,” Ed said with a grin, pulling out his car keys. “See ya.”

Before Izzy could even utter his own goodbye, Ed was back in his car and driving off, leaving Izzy to wrestle once more with the central locking system of his own car, collapsing into his seat and running a hand over his face. He didn’t need to tell Ed, he didn’t want to know. He had his life now. The last thing he needed was Izzy’s mistakes dumped on him, not when he was happy.

The flat was in darkness when Izzy got in. He sighed a little in relief, assuming CJ was out getting absolutely wasted somewhere, and he could have a few hours of peace and quiet. He dropped his car keys onto the table by the door, rubbing the back of his neck to try and ease out some tension as he wandered into the living room, flicking on the light.

There on the sofa, CJ was slumped, a mostly empty bottle of Captain Morgan rum in his hand, leant back against the cushions with his mouth wide open, snoring obnoxiously. Izzy sighed, glancing to the nearest clock. It was only 9:30, and he was already passed out. Great.

He crouched next to the sofa, unzipping his jacket, and slowly prying the bottle from his hand. That seemed to rouse him, and he was slowly sitting up, eyes bloodshot and hazy.

“Iz… where the fuck you been?”

“At work,” he muttered in return, standing again and placing the bottle on the coffee table. “How did the interview go?”

“I got it!” CJ hauled himself to his feet, noticeably swaying as he caught his balance. “Fucking celebrating!” He pointed back to the bottle of rum that could have only had two or three shots left in it.

“That’s great, well done,” Izzy murmured with far less enthusiasm than he should have mustered. But he was tired, and besides, he knew he wouldn’t last five minutes. He figured CJ would be fired by the end of the following week, probably simply because he wouldn’t show up beyond day one.

“Why are you so late?” CJ took a step towards him, well, more of stumble, and Izzy took a step back.

“Delivery was wrong. Had to sort out all the stock. It’s taken us all day.”

“Us?”

Izzy frowned a little. “Yeah… me, Fang, Lucius and Ed.”

CJ scoffed, staggering to the table Izzy put the bottle on and snatching it up again. He took another mouthful of it, and Izzy tried his best not to grimace as he watched some liquid trickle out the side of his mouth.

CJ looked like he was about to dive in to another rant about how much time Izzy spent there, how distracted he was because of work, how the only reason he put so much effort in was because ‘your arsehole ex Ed Teach owning the place’, the usual that Izzy heard on a regular basis now. He was braced for it, CJ’s words couldn’t hurt him, only his fists.

But the other man stopped, and his eyes ran over Izzy in front of him, and Izzy felt a lump grow in his throat. His pulse raised, he felt himself get physically warmed under the glare, and his stomach dropped.

“Is that his fucking t-shirt?”

Chapter Text

“Stede?” Ed called through the house as he shut the front door behind him, his voice noticeably tired. He bent down to unlace his boots and kick them off, then turned back to the door when he realised he hadn’t locked it and fumbling to turn the key. He wandered through to the living room, stifling a yawn against the back of his hand.

“Hello, love.” He was greeted with Stede’s soft voice, the way he instantly stood from where he was curled up under a blanket on the sofa pulling a smile from Ed, stepping up to him and winding his arms around him. Their lips brushed for a second, but then Ed was resting his forehead on his shoulder to block another yawn.

“It really was a long one, huh?” Stede murmured as he gently ran a hand up and down his back. “Do you want anything to eat or –” He stopped midsentence and pulled back from Ed. “You stink of alcohol, darling, what happened?”

Ed chuckled softly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have come near you before a shower. Dropped a case of beer, went all over me and Iz. I’ll go shower.” He risked leaning back in to press a kiss to Stede’s cheek, like an apology, before turning to head upstairs.

“I could join you…?” Stede offered, a slight blush hitting his cheeks as Ed turned back fast, his eyes lighting up, eager.

“How could I say no?” Ed smirked, holding out his hand to Stede to follow.

When Ed was (finally) showered and Stede had insisted on him snacking on leftovers, Ed was more than happy to collapse into bed, laying with his head against Stede’s chest whilst he read, letting him absentmindedly run his fingers through Ed’s long strands, now damp and curling from the water.

“Iz seemed in a bad mood today,” he mumbled quietly, not really offering out anything else other than that. It felt weird enough, out of his usual character, that it needed to be commented on. He didn’t know why, Izzy was usually in a bad mood, nothing was different there. Except it did seem different today. Something felt wrong. It didn’t actually seem like his usual bad mood in fact. He seemed… sad?

“Hmm? Do you think he had another argument with CJ?” Stede offered as explanation. Ed could tell from his slightly absent tone he was still trying to read at the same time.

“Didn’t seem like it. Said he had an interview today. Seemed positive.”

Stede couldn’t help his scoff, and Ed saw the arm that was raised and holding the book slowly drop, Stede’s thumb sticking in between the pages to hold his place. “Positive about CJ getting a job? Doubtful.”

“I know, that’s what I thought. I dunno, man, something just seemed… off about it all.”

“I’ve always said there’s a lot more going on there than he lets on. I worry about him. CJ is completely taking advantage and I can’t imagine why Izzy lets him. I have no idea what he sees in the man.”

Ed chewed his lip in thought, not pondering the second part of Stede’s statement, because he didn’t have a clue what Izzy saw in CJ either, but on the subject of there being something going on. He’d know by now. Izzy would have said, let slip, come to him for help even. He offered financial help all he time. He came to Ed when they had arguments. What else could there possibly be?

He sighed deeply and shifted to cuddle closer against Stede’s side. “Whatever it is, god knows we won’t get Izzy talking unless he wants to. Probably best to just leave it alone until he’s ready.”

Stede looked down at him, running his fingertips over the bare shoulder pressed into his side. “What if he isn’t okay, though, and he doesn’t how know to say it?”

Ed shook his head, letting his eyes drop closed. “It’s Iz, he’s fine,” he mumbled sleepily. Stede sighed too, letting his eyes run over his boyfriend for a second with a soft frown. And what if he wasn’t?

Izzy didn’t see himself as defeated. Numb, yes. He was numb to it all by now. He felt the physical pain, of course, there was no numbing that. But he could dull his other senses, lessen the emotional reaction, mentally tap out. He didn’t have to be present. He could just let it wash over him. Sometimes he’d want to give as got as he got, and there was one occasion when CJ had received an equal black eye in return. No one seemed to question it, not even CJ. But Izzy wasn’t going to debase himself to that level. He wasn’t going to be what CJ was, even if he did sort of have it coming. This wasn’t tit-for-tat, that wasn’t how abuse worked.

***
Tonight was different. Tonight was worse.

“Why the fuck are you wearing his fucking shirt?” CJ was stalking towards him and Izzy was stumbling backwards until his back hit a wall and he had the horrible, cooling realisation that he had nowhere else to go.

“Case of beer spilt over us. I was soaked. He had a spare.” He wouldn’t allow his voice to waver. It was equally angry, equally incredulous, equally loud.

“Bullshit!” There was a hand slamming into his clavicle, then sliding up to the base of his throat, pinning him into the wall. “You fucking smell of him!”

“Because I’m wearing his fucking shirt!” Izzy bit back, hand rising to grip at CJ’s wrist and pull it back. The hit with the back of Jack’s other hand came fast across his cheek, somehow catching him off-guard and making him lose his grip on his wrist.

“All you do is run around after your fucking ex-husband in his stupid fucking bar!” The grip on his throat tightened and Izzy instinctively took a deep breath in, trying to make sure air reached his lungs as fast and as deep as possible. He raised his hands and planted them on CJ’s chest, shoving him backwards. He stumbled and swayed back, the alcohol working in Izzy’s favour as he stepped away from the wall, back now towards the open door of the room, available for exit.

“So, what, did you fuck him in the office?” Izzy actually felt his eyes roll, which may have been a mistake. But come on? At least be inventive.

“No I fucking didn’t. Piss off CJ, either fuck off out and get more drunk or pass out on the sofa, I don’t care anymore,” he muttered, taking another step back before turning away from him with every intention of making a speedy retreat.

First mistake.

A large, hot hand was landing on his shoulder and tugging him backwards. He may have been blind drunk, but he was significantly taller than Izzy, and knew his own strength. “What then, fucked him on the bar?” he breathed into his ear, the smell of the alcohol unpleasantly wafting from him. Izzy winced. He’d told Jack that story because he thought it was funny, because it was /fun/, because he’d been sort of weirdly proud of it, because he and Ed used to reminisce about it all the time. Sometimes, still did.

“No, CJ.” And even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he knew it was a mistake. There was a tiny part of him that wanted to push, to crack CJ, to see what would happen, even though he knew. “Wish I had though. At least it would have meant something.”

Second mistake. Possibly final mistake.
***

Maybe he was defeated now. Maybe this was what it took. CJ must have gone at him /hard/, because he didn’t think he’d ever passed out from it before. Temporarily stunned, yes. A particularly well thrown punch making everything go dark and hazy for about thirty seconds, sure. But to completely pass out, and wake up god knows how many hours later with the light streaming in through the windows? That was more than ever before.

He tried to be quiet, but Izzy couldn’t help the groan of pain that left his mouth as he tried to raise his head, feeling the sticking trail of blood and spit streak across his face as he peeled himself off the carpet. He glanced down and inwardly cursed whoever had put light coloured carpet in the living room of the flat. What was it that got blood out of soft furnishings again? Bicarbonate of soda? Vinegar? Or was that wine stains? He couldn’t remember.

He slid his arms up from his sides and pressed his palms to the floor, pushing himself to sit and groaning again. He was trying to mentally run through what hurt, but it seemed like it was a pretty blanket situation so he stopped trying. He shifted himself to sit fully and the gasp of pain that came from his mouth was hardly recognisable to himself. He wound an arm around his middle and hunched over, taking shallow breaths. That was a lot worse than he had experienced before. Then his head began to thump, like it was only just realising there was a party it was suppose to be at. The pain seemed to be emanating from his left temple, and he raised his hand to brush his fingertips over it, feeling a raised lump and dried blood. He reached blindly into his pocket and pulled out his phone, looking down at the screen and frowning deeply as his eyes struggled to focus. He squinted, finally getting a read on the time. 10:24am. Shit. He had been out way too long for that to be healthy.

He threw his phone to land softly on the sofa cushions above him and raised his right arm to the arm of the sofa to haul himself up. The second he raised his arm, the pain grabbed him by the throat and he yelled, dropping it again. Something told him he wasn’t walking this one off.

He couldn’t even remember what had happened. Maybe that was the scariest part. He couldn’t pinpoint any injury to any particular hit. Had he blacked out, and then sustained all the injuries? Or was he simply… trying not to remember?

At a second attempt, using his other arm to lever himself up, he managed to get to his feet. He instantly felt sick, felt himself sway, the room spinning and his vision hazed. It was clear enough, though, to catch his reflection in the far mirror hung in the hallway. His eyes widened at the state he was in.

Split lip, cut right cheek, large gash to his left temple, left eye black and swollen half shut, the bruise branching out to meet and meld with the bruise from his temple. And that was just his face. Definite bruised ribs. His left shoulder definitely wasn’t right. No, he really wasn’t walking this one off.

The horrible realisation he was going to have to go and get help dawned on him. He gripped the edge of the sofa to keep himself standing and steady, worried if he sat he wouldn’t pull himself up again, and weighed his options. He could walk in to A&E, but he’d need a fucking good story. They were wise to these things these days. A few decades ago you could walk in, claim you fell in the shower, and get away with it. Now, they knew what to look for, new the signs. A walk in clinic would be much the same, worse in fact as they’d have more time to probe. No, proper medical help was out. He could go to friends. Maybe he could go to Lucius, he could probably convince him to keep his mouth shut through well placed threats. No, who was he kidding? Lucius would tell Pete in an instant, who would tell Fang, who would… no. Besides, Lucius would probably gag and run and other way and the sight of the blood.

Fuck sake. He knew the solution. He knew his only option. The lesser of all the evils. He knew really, deep down, what he needed to do and where he needed to go.

He picked up his phone again, managing to fumble through to the Uber app, knowing there was no way he could drive. Quickly, he ordered one, pleased to see it was only five minutes away. He considered for a second packing a bag, but what the fuck was there to take? This wasn’t his flat. It was all CJ’s stuff. And even then, the small amount of stuff that was his own he really couldn’t give less of a shit about. It was just stuff. Books and old records and t-shirts. They didn’t matter. The only thing that did matter, the only thing he’d want to make sure he never lost, he kept on his person at all times anyway where CJ wouldn’t find it. Nothing else really mattered.

So he carefully made his way out of the flat, more than aware of the struggle of putting one foot in front of the other, making it out to the street and climbing in to his waiting taxi. He ignored the look of horror on the driver’s face as he glanced in the rear view. He knew what kind of state he looked. He just sat in silence, eyes fixed down into the footwell, the passing of the streets outside only making his head spin more. It wasn’t far outside of town, only twenty minutes, and he mumbled a quiet ‘thanks’ as he extracted himself from the car with a groan of pain and stood on the pavement, looking up at the unnecessarily big, fancy house.

This wasn’t going to go down well.

Chapter Text

Stede was pulled from his desk by the notification of their Ring doorbell on his phone. Funny, he wasn’t expecting any deliveries today. He couldn’t be bothered to open the app and check who it was. He wasn’t in the middle of anything important, just rewording a listing of one of his less popular finds for the website. He stood and slowly stretched out, feeling his shoulders pop satisfyingly, before moving out of the office. He loved working in there. It got the best part of the day’s sunshine, he could open the large doors to get in the fresh air, the garden stretching out before him. And of course, when he was working from home and Ed wasn’t there, Marmalade would join him in her cat tree, purring softly merely at his presence. There were worse places to run an antique business from. Better than a cold, stuffy, smelly shop frontage. Besides, 'Fine Things' did a roaring trade in so many countries. He couldn't get that from a static shop.

He hummed softly to himself as he wandered through the house, past the kitchen, giving a quick glance to the kettle and thinking he would take the interruption as a good excuse to make a cup of tea once he had dealt with whoever was at the door. He was running through his head which leaves to select for his tea, and oh, it was just coming up to 11 o’clock, perfect time for a snack also! Upon pondering then what snack to have, his hand reached for the door handle and he pulled it open, his mostly neutral expression falling so fast and deeply it caught him off guard as he took in the sight in front of him.

“Izzy!”

The shorter man’s eyes widened a little as he was confronted with Stede, like he hadn’t expected him to answer the door. Of his own home.

“Oh… Stede. Is… is Ed in?”

Stede was more than aware he was staring, taking in the sight before him. Izzy was… well covered in blood certainly /wasn’t/ and overstatement. Bruises blossomed across his face, and because the t-shirt that he was wearing was far too big for him (wait, wasn’t that one of Ed’s?) it was drooping at the neckline, showing the beginning of more bruises blooming across his collarbones. Stede’s mouth was agape, and he made no attempt to hide it.

“No he’s at this licensing meeting with the council,” Stede breathed, his voice quiet and distant to even his own ears.

“Shit, yeah,” Izzy mumbled, a deep frown settling into his face like he was berating himself for having the audacity to forget such a thing. “Right. Sorry to… bother you.” Stede for a second actually thought Izzy was turning to leave, and almost laughed in sheer shock at how ridiculous that seemed. And then it dawned on him he actually was turning to leave.

“Izzy! No! What the…” He carefully grabbed at his arm and all at once the reality of the situation hit him like a brick wall as Izzy flinched back from his touch. Their eyes met and they didn’t need words, words would have been too much, words were redundant now. Stede could get everything he needed from that flinch, from that look, from the way Izzy’s eyes were desperate and pleading and just so /sad/. “Izzy, come inside.” The hand that was stretched out was offered to him this time instead, rather than insistent.

Izzy stood on the porch, suddenly very aware of every limb attached to his body and how it /hurt/ to just stand, to breathe, and how Stede had cottoned on in an instant how he had got there, why he looked like that, because of who, and suddenly the game was up. It had been over a year. He thought he’d done pretty well actually, given that he had to most days go to the bar, see people, interact. He’d had a longer run of it than he had ever expected.

But it was over now. And in that moment, stood there staring at Stede Bonnet, he couldn’t find any strength to be pleased.

And yet he found himself stepping inside, ignoring the outstretched hand, granted. But he was stepping inside, and allowing Stede to close the door behind him. His legs felt like jelly, and their beautiful fucking house with the tiled entrance hall and the unnecessarily large double staircase up to a horse-shoe shaped mezzanine that hugged around the outer edges of the rooms upstairs, and the soft lights and colourful matching furnishings, all spun around him. He flinched away from the arm that came to steady him, and a rough ‘don’t’ was breathed from his lips, but Stede was still at his side, a pace away, and watching him like a hawk.

Izzy glanced to his side and could see Stede’s phone in his hand, could see him pull up his recent contacts, see him go to Ed’s name with the stupid fucking red heart next to it, and see him hit call. He felt sick. Maybe throwing up in their house wasn’t the best start to all of this. He took in a deep breath to push away the nausea, and was shocked when he could overhear that Ed had answered his phone. That was an important meeting, he needed to pay attention! But then he supposed he knew Stede wouldn’t call unless it was urgent, something he needed to answer.

“Come home, right now. Yes, darling, now. Yes, it is. It’s Izzy…” Stede shot a sideways glance to him before looking away again and dropping his voice. “I was right, there was something going on. It’s bad, darling, you need to come home right now.”

Izzy grumbled under his breath that the meeting was more important, but either Stede didn’t hear or he chose not to comment. He locked his phone and placed it back in his pocket. “Now, how shall we go about this?”

Izzy narrowed his eyes and glanced over at him. “What?”

“Getting you cleaned up. Where do you want to sit? Bathroom? Or… what hurts? Maybe you should lay down, or at least sit somewhere soft. I know, I’ll sit you in the living room, bring the first aid kit to you. Is that okay?”

Izzy’s brain felt like treacle as he waded through Stede’s words. “Why are you giving me a choice?” The words had escaped his mouth before he had a chance to catch them and he could tell by Stede’s faltered expression it was really the wrong thing to say. He was revealing far more about his state of mind, his emotions, than he wanted to. Physical injuries, fine, deal with them and leave again. But to reveal the psychological damage… fuck he didn’t want to pull on that thread. Not now, not ever, and certainly not with Stede of all people.

Mercifully, Stede seemed to choose to not comment again and headed off towards the living room. “Come this way. I’ll get you sat down and get you some water. We can go from there…”

Izzy sighed, and then realised that hurt, but this was what he got for allowing himself to be defeated. So he followed Stede through reluctantly.

Stede bustled around him and Izzy couldn’t help the way he just stood there, hunched over, wringing his hands together awkwardly, and then frowning as he looked down at them and saw they were bruised and cracked, some scuffed and grazed. He couldn’t even remember fighting back. He wondered how many punches he’d actually managed to land in the end. He was vaguely aware of Stede leaving the room, the coming back again, and he was brought back to reality when the taller man came to stand in front of him. It seemed he was being mindful of distance, and trying not to seem imposing.

“Would you like to sit?” he asked quietly, and gestured behind him to their biggest armchair. That was the chair Izzy usually sat in, when he visited. He really liked that chair, though he’d never admit it. A deep midnight blue, with gold detailing around the edges of the back and arms, matching the dark blue, deep red, gold and grey colour scheme that most of the living room and kitchen was decorated in. Not everything of Stede and Ed’s house was to his taste (who was he kidding, it was all so lavish and unnecessary in his mind), but he could get behind that chair. It was gloriously comfy too, and on the odd occasion he had been relaxed enough in their presence, he had found himself dozing off in it. Like that time he had stayed for the weekend, when he had no water or electricity in his flat, and they had an evening watching films and eating popcorn and talking and /laughing/. Izzy never had evenings like that. He did feel safe here. Safe and comfortable. Mostly.

He found himself sinking into the chair with a groan that had no place outside his head, in the world. He shouldn’t be letting on just how much it hurt. But shit, he didn’t even know what hurt. He didn’t know what was injured, what was bruised. He hadn’t so much as even looked down his shirt to inspect the damage. The fact he couldn’t remember was only more concerning.

“I think you should drink some water, Izzy,” Stede said quietly, gesturing to the glass of water he had placed on the side table next to Izzy, standing awkwardly in front of him. Izzy nodded silently and lifted the glass to his lips. Only on the first sip did he realise how much he needed it, and he was quick to drain the glass. “Would you like some tea maybe?” Izzy shook his head slowly. He thought maybe then he would throw up.

Stede seemed to clear his throat awkwardly then, slowly moving to crouch in front of Izzy. “Before we think about getting you cleaned up, I think we need to take some pictures.”

A deep frown settled on Izzy’s face, which tugged on the cuts and bruises and made him wince. “What for?”

“To show the police. It’s best if we document it at all stages.”

A flash of pure horror ran over Izzy’s expression, and he would have been on his feet in seconds if he felt he had the strength. “I’m not going to the fucking police!”

It was Stede’s turn to frown then, and the hesitant softness in his voice partly melted away. “Izzy, you have to go to the police! This is… well this is… Izzy, it’s horrendous! You wouldn’t see these kind of injuries out the back of the bar on a Friday night! This isn’t just one punch, and even if it were, that would warrant going to the police alone. But like this… shit, Izzy, he’s seriously hurt you!” Stede didn’t swear very often. That was very much Ed’s department in their relationship. So when he did, it was used with force and meaning.

“I’m not going to the fucking police, Stede. What are they going to do?! He’s a drunk idiot who wouldn’t even fucking show up for court! It would never go anywhere, achieve anything. It’s fucking pointless…”

Stede had to see his point. But that wasn’t going to stop him pursuing the path. “Okay, how about this." He slowly came to a crouch in front of him. "Let me take the pictures. Then we have them. We can talk about what to do with them in a few days, when you’re feeling a bit better.” He shouldn’t be making Izzy have this conversation now, it wasn’t fair. He’d been through more than enough for now. “Just let me take the pictures. Just in case?” His voice was somewhat pleading. Izzy raised his gaze to Stede’s, crouched in front of him, eyes wide and full of genuine concern. He always looked at Izzy with genuine fucking concern.

“Fine, fine…” he muttered, defeated. “But I’m not… not the police. Not today.” His broken sentence was enough to tell Stede he just didn’t have the mental strength, and he could completely see why.

“No, not today. That’s fine,” he assured quietly before standing again. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket. Without another word, he held up his phone to begin taking the pictures, and Izzy just sat back and let him. Stede didn’t even ask him to turn his head or move, moving around the chair himself to get different angles and close-ups of certain wounds. “What about the rest of your body?”

Izzy raised an eyebrow at him. “What about it?” he muttered stoically.

Okay, so that was a no go for now. He was pretty sure he would be able to get Edward to convince him later, he would let that one rest for now. In fact, as he considered that thought, placing his phone down on the coffee table, he realised he wanted to wait for Edward to even touch Izzy. This was tricky to navigate. Izzy needed to trust. If he didn’t trust Stede to touch, he wouldn’t blame him. But surely he would Ed, a man with whom he had spent so many years. A man who had touched him everywhere, seen everything. Stede was suddenly very aware of overstepping.

“I’m going to make some tea whilst we wait for Ed, okay?” he asked softly. It was a ploy to give Ed more time to get home. Izzy just gave a non-committal nod and rested his head back against the chair. He tried not to panic too much about Ed’s potential reaction to this.

They didn’t have long to wait. Stede made a mental note to later berate Ed on how many speed limits he must have broken to arrive back home in the short space of time he did. Stede briskly made his way back to the living room as he heard Ed tumble into the house, door almost slamming behind him.

“Stede? Iz?” he called through.

“Living room, darling,” Stede called in return and placed himself in the doorway. He glanced back at Izzy, who looked up at him through half-lidded, pain-filled eyes. Izzy slowly closed his hands into fists and /squeezed/. Why was this worse? Why was Ed seeing him like this so much worse than Stede? Why was this so terrifying? Ed wasn’t going to hurt him. Ed was going to look after him.

He never could stand seeing Ed sad, scared, angry. None of those emotions. Ed was a happy soul, at heart, when he had everything he needed in life, which when it came down to it consisted mostly of good food, good sex and love. Izzy had tried so hard to give him those things, but he struggled to love himself, so how could he love Edward too? He didn’t want to be the cause, yet again, of making him sad and scared and angry. He’d done that before, he didn’t want to do it again. He knew it was coming. He squeezed harder, feeling his bruised knuckles pull.

Ed came to a halt in the doorway, partly from shock as his eyes fell to Izzy, and partly from the hand that Stede planted on his chest. It wasn’t a warning, it was more guidance. A reminder for him to stop and take a breath. Izzy was fragile, whether he’d admit it or not. Ed needed to slow down, take stock, be measured.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

Chapter Text

Izzy’s gaze dropped in an instant out of shame. Fucking shame. He had been the strong one for most their marriage. He was always pulling Ed back from the darkness, from his spirals. He’d hold him on the nights he’d lay there crying. He’d listen on the nights he stood there shouting. He’d soothe him on the nights it all became just too much. Until he couldn’t anymore, until he broke.

He felt broken now. He had always wanted to let Ed take care of him in equal measure, but never understood how. He didn’t know how to start now, not like this. But Ed’s expression, the sheer anger and pain, told him he had to find a way. Ed was always the clingy type, for both himself and others. As soon as he saw someone hurting, he wanted to bundle them up and not let go until they were better. The fact Izzy would never let him was the start of a whole string of tensions they never really managed to resolve whilst they were married. Izzy was going to have to start to learn now.

Ed brushed past Stede, the hand his boyfriend had placed on his chest trailing from him. With Ed’s eyes fixed on Izzy, and Stede’s fixed on Ed, Izzy watched as Ed came to rest on his knees in front of the chair Izzy was hunched in. “It was him, yeah?”

There was no point in hiding it, denying it. What fucking story could he come up with to deny this one? So he nodded slowly. “Yeah…” he croaked out.

“And he’s done it before.” It wasn’t a question, and Izzy felt his heart ache at that. Ed’s voice was so resigned, so remorseful, like he knew that already. Like he’d always known that, and should have done something about it. Izzy nodded again, silently this time. It wasn’t Ed’s fault. He didn’t know. Well, Izzy had never said, even if deep down Ed /felt/ like he knew.

Ed reached up slowly, and Izzy took in a sharp inhale of breath. The hand faltered mid-air for a moment before continuing, coming to rest carefully against his jaw. “I’m so sorry, Iz. I knew something was up. I was just stupid enough to think it was arguments with a drunk dickhead. I thought you’d leave him soon and it would be fine.”

Izzy swallowed hard against his dry throat. “Not your fault, you twat,” he breathed fondly. “You didn’t do this.”

“I should have asked, Iz. Would you have told me if I’d asked what was going on?”

Izzy shook his head slowly, feeling the way his head pressed back into Ed’s warm touch. He really wouldn’t have. It was always going to take something like this for him to admit it. Ed sighed gently and looked like he was going to persist, but then Stede was stood next to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“My love, I think Izzy needs some help cleaning up. How about I go and warm the shower in the guestroom?” Ed glanced up at him, and in doing so removed his hand from Izzy’s jaw.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. Thank you,” he mumbled quietly and stood. Stede placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, offering Izzy a warm smile before leaving the room. “I’m guessing from the fact you’re still wearing yesterday clothes that you haven’t…” He gestured to Izzy’s chest, and immediately silent language was reinstated from decades of knowing each other. He was asking if Izzy had actually looked at the state he was in, again, as if he already knew he hadn’t.

“No, got no idea,” he confirmed quietly. “Feels pretty shit.” Ed nodded slowly and held out his hand to him.

“Let’s get you in the shower then, wash all the blood away. We can deal with it all after.” Once again, there was absolutely no point in fighting it. Ed knew him way too well. He leant forward and placed his hand in Ed’s, who was carefully pulling him up, placing his other hand on the small of his back to steady him as he groaned in pain, stumbling a little on his feet. “I got you,” Ed breathed, and Izzy was slammed with his scent and his warmth and his gentle voice and those chocolate eyes and it took all his fucking willpower to not just bury his face in his chest and beg to be held.

Edward wasn’t his to beg anymore.

Silently he was being led up the way too ornate staircase, past the main bedrooms and ensuite, past Stede’s fucking library (yes, he had a library and as soon as Izzy had heard this from Ed he can remember vividly bursting out laughing. Never mind the fact he had spent quite a happy hour one afternoon perusing the books, selecting a couple to borrow), and towards the guest suite. The bedroom was bigger than Izzy’s entire fucking flat, he was pretty sure, and it was always made up beautifully with fresh bedding and flowers, the blinds half pulled to dim the sunlight streaming in, providing a warm, gentle glow that wasn’t harsh on Izzy’s banging head. Steam cascaded out of the adjoining bathroom from where Stede stepped out.

“I’ve set the water nice and warm but not too hot so it isn’t sore. I’ll go and collect what first aid kit stuff we have from our bathroom for afterwards, leave it on the bed.” He glanced between the two of them, aware Ed was very much holding Izzy up at this point. “I’ll leave you both to it, but please do shout if I can help at all.” He gave Ed a reassuring nod before leaving the room. Izzy had never known Stede be so… prompt about anything. Usually he’d faff, come in and out twenty times, labour over the same point, check and double check, a perfectionist to the last. Something about his nod to Ed made Izzy feel like it was a trust-filled gesture, maybe even permission, that he knew Izzy needed Ed’s time and attention in a more intimate way than would usually be appropriate for an ex. Stede really was getting out of the way for him. That felt… strangely lovely.

Ed turned to Izzy as he placed his phone on the bedside table and shrugged off his jacket (well, Ed's jacket) and reached down to grip the hem of the t-shirt. “You trust me, yeah mate?”

Izzy’s nod in return was instant, implicit. These were hands he wasn’t going to flinch away from. Or at least, he knew he didn't need to, even if his survival instinct was kicking in every now and then.

“Still, if I’m about to do something you don’t want me to do, you say, okay?”

Another silent nod, but the way Izzy met his gaze told Ed he really was listening, and really did mean it. There was a brush of his lips across his forehead, the gesture making Izzy’s eyelids flutter shut. God he wanted that, he wanted all of this so much. Ed wasn’t his to want anymore.

Before he could ponder that thought much longer, the fabric was being pulled over his head, dropped to the floor, and a warm hand was skimming down his chest, over his side, barely touching.

“Fucking hell, Iz.” Ed’s voice was distant and so sad and Izzy just couldn’t stand it. He didn’t look down. He couldn’t look down. He kept his gaze fixed ahead, unable to stop his eyes filling with tears. “How badly does it hurt?”

“Bad,” was all he managed to mumbled, staring at the painting on the far wall. It was a beautiful oil of a ship, entitled ‘The Revenge’. There was something about it Izzy loved. In fact, they all loved it. Stede had owned it long before he met Ed. He’d bought it for the business, of course, to sell on, but always talked about how drawn to it he was, how much he loved the beautiful ship, the meaning of the name. He said he always imagined the crew on the ship were happy, supportive of each other, in a way he imagined a lot of crews weren’t. It took Ed expressing how much he loved it too for Stede to take it off sale on the website and keep it for themselves. When Izzy commented on the fact it was ‘actually alright, yeah’, and Izzy never commented on art, Stede had been beaming.
When they had found him one night stood in Stede’s office with a glass of wine in his hand, just staring at the piece where it was propped against the wall, yet to find it’s final home, Stede had asked Ed to hang it in the guest room. That way, whenever Izzy stayed, it was there for him to see.

Izzy loved that painting. He’d give anything to just sail away at that moment.

“I think you may have broken ribs, babe,” Ed murmured, and the pet name felt so natural tumbling out of his lips it made Izzy’s eyes fall to him again, making the tears escape down his cheeks. And then he kept looking down, to his own chest. He’d only ever seen bruising like it on stupid tv shows and films. Black and purple, mottled across the right side of his chest, across his side. In fact, if he squinted, he was sure it was even in the shape of a fucking boot. And the tears kept falling.

Then there was a hand on his jaw again, lifting his head, thumb carefully caressing the part of his cheek that wasn’t cut and bruised, swiping to collect the streaks of tears that fell. “I got you, okay? We’re going to look after you.”

/We/. He was sure as shit Stede fucking Bonnet hadn’t signed up for this, and yet it was true, he also seemed to be a willing participant.

Ed’s fingertips brushed over his stomach and came to the button and fly of his jeans. Izzy blinked up at him and then couldn’t help the weak, half-smile that grazed over his lips. “Didn’t think you’d ever be undressing me again,” he teased quietly, earning a soft chuckle from Ed.

“Me neither, man. You cool for me to?”

Izzy nodded slowly and then a quiet realisation fluttered his consciousness. “You weren’t… planning on showering with me too?

“Well, I…” Ed cleared his throat a little and then shrugged. “I was worried about you feeling dizzy. There’s nowhere for you to sit. I was gonna… no, I get it, too far,” he mumbled quietly and dropped his gaze again.

“Don’t you think Bonnet would have something to say about that?” Izzy called Stede ‘Bonnet’ only to Edward, because he knew it pissed him off, jokingly of course. When he had first heard his name, he’d scoffed. ‘What kind of rich twat name is Stede? And Bonnet? As in bonnet of a car?!’ Maybe then it had been said in incredulous anger. Now it was said all in good fun.

“Hadn’t really thought,” Ed replied honestly, his voice a little defeated. Maybe that was crossing the line in too many ways.

“I’d appreciate you sitting in the bathroom with me,” Izzy returned. Ed’s logic was sound. He was also worried about feeling dizzy, about what aftereffects were going to start rearing their ugly head at him. Ed seemed to perk up at that and he nodded quickly.

“That I can do,” he assured softly, glad that the brief interlude had cut off Izzy’s tears. He popped the button of the jeans and pulled the zipper, pushing them down. Izzy steadied himself on Ed’s shoulder as he stepped out of them, knowing leaning down was a bad idea. Ed didn’t hesitate at his underwear, the familiarity of it all settling it, like some kind of rhythm that had never really gone away. He pulled them down, running his thumb for the briefest of moments over a dark bruise that sat right on Izzy’s hipbone, before gently leading him into the bathroom.

Izzy was glad for the lavish, walk in shower. It meant he didn’t have to navigate stepping in or over anything with his fuzzy head. He walked in and turned on the water, stepping back out of the flow to feel the temperature. Stede had left it on the perfect amount of warm, of course he had. Ed had closed down the toilet lid and sat himself, able to see Izzy through the steamed glass as he stepped under the water, letting it flow over him. He looked down with a grimace to see the way the water turned red, the blood washing down the plug hole in a tiny whirlpool motion as it went. He tipped is head back, letting it run over his face, catching all the dried blood and melting it away, hissing slightly at the sting. He didn’t use any soaps or shampoos, knowing it would get in to the cuts and sting even more. He needed them clean. He did run his fingers through his hair a few times to make sure any caked blood was gone, giving the rest of himself a perfunctory wash.

The fatigue was starting to set in, and he found himself slumping against the wall, the tiles warmed by the hot water. Ed noticed the movement, and stood.
“Iz?” he called over the noise of the water tumbling from the shower head, one of those massive rain-effect ones that to Izzy always seemed pointless but after he actually tried it, he loved it.

“’m fine,” he muttered, but his voice was barely above normal volume and it was wavering. Ed poked his head round the side of the glass.

“Need help, or are you done?” Izzy wanted to laugh. Edward asking if he needed help showering felt so… fucking odd. They had showered together before countless times, for so many reasons, with so many different motivations and endings. He never imagined this to be one of them.

“I’m done,” he muttered and hit the dial to turn the water off, staggering a little as he stepped out. Ed had his arms around him instantly, guiding him out of the shower and onto the mat on the floor.

“You’re gonna get soaked, you twat,” Izzy muttered, but seemingly willingly leant in to him, eyes dropping closed on instinct as a massive, soft, warm, fluffy towel was wrapped around him.

“I can change, really not a problem, mate,” Ed was murmuring, rubbing his hands over the towel gently, over Izzy’s shoulder and down his back. He tucked the towel properly around Izzy and lead him back out to the bedroom.

Stede must have been stealthy and fast, Izzy hadn’t been in the shower long. But he had laid out on the bed some underwear, some soft jogging bottoms and a t-shirt. All Ed’s, Izzy recognised. He’d also put another glass of water on the bedside, and had left the large first aid box on the bed, with extra bits on the side like painkillers.

Ed smiled softly and Izzy felt his heart seize a little. Stede really was a fucking good boyfriend, and just a good person, and god if that didn’t kill Izzy a little…

Then Ed was suddenly at his side again, helping Izzy step into the underwear, pulling it on him. It was a little too big, but it would do for now. He also helped him step into the joggers, but left the t-shirt off for now before guiding Izzy to climb onto the bed and lay back on the obscene amount of pillows that were piled at the head so he was sat up comfortably.

“Where do you want to start?” he asked quietly and Izzy just gave a shrug, watching as he pulled off the jumper he was wearing, soggy from clutching at him, going down to the t-shirt he wore below. It was old. In fact, shit, Izzy recognised that from when they were first together.

“Ed, you wore that to a meeting with the fucking council? About our fucking business? It’s got to be at least fifteen years old!”

“I had a nice jumper over the top!” Ed replied quickly, defensively, until his expression creased into a laugh. “Seriously, fuck off, think we have more important things going on.”

Izzy laughed quietly and then grimaced at the pain, resting his head back on the pillows. “Temple needs those sticky stitch things, if you have them. I can do that. Lip could probably do with one too. Ice on my eye, only for twenty minutes but it’ll help with the swelling. There isn’t much to do with my chest, possibly ice and then heat for the bruising.”

Ed blinked slowly at him, opening his mouth to speak them closing it again. Izzy’s eyes darted up to the door that was half ajar, where Stede was knocking quietly. “How many times have you done this Iz?” Ed asked quietly, just as Stede was stepping into the room. Izzy didn’t know where to look. Stede’s expression was one of shock and horror upon seeing Izzy’s bare chest, and Ed’s expression mirrored that, like it had only just occurred to him that Izzy may have been in this state before.

He really didn’t have the strength to deal with it all right now. “Fuck off, the both of you,” he muttered without meaning. “This is the worst it’s been, but I’ve dealt with it alone more times than you want to know. So just… stop staring and get on with it, the both of you.”

Stede had come to stand at Izzy’s side, next to where Ed was perched on the edge of the bed. “We should take you to hospital,” Stede said quietly.

“Fuck off,” was Izzy’s instant response, and he meant it this time. “I would already be there if I was going. I don’t need a hospital.”

“I’m not letting him out of my sight,” Ed mumbled possessively and a spark of hot electricity ran down Izzy’s spine. It felt so alien and yet so right for Edward to be talking about him like that again.

“Fine, then at least let me call Roach,” Stede offered, which earned another glare off Izzy. Roach was a fully qualified doctor, and he was good. Until the idiot left it all to become a chef. Trouble was, he was good at that too.

“No. The less people involved the better.”

“Izzy, you need proper medical assistance. What if something is broken?”

“My ribs are just bruised. Nothing else is broken. Just… leave it, okay?”

Stede seemed unconvinced, looking down to Ed for support, who was running his eyes up and down Izzy’s body in total disbelief at the sight. “Iz, don’t you think asking Roach to take a look is a good idea? He won’t judge.”

Izzy scoffed, he couldn’t help himself. “Judge? Do you think that’s what I’m worried about, Ed?” The other man looked back up at him again and shrugged. “I’m not worried about being judged, you twat. But this is what CJ does. Do you really think he’d stop at just hurting me?”

Chapter Text

The realisation dawned on them both simultaneously and Stede nodded a little, taking a step back.

“Right… no one but us. For now,” he agreed, though Izzy wasn’t too comfortable with the phrase ‘for now’. But he was too tired to argue. “Ed, darling, I’m just going to quickly take some pictures. Hop up for me.”

Ed frowned as he stood, stepping from the bed. “Why?”

“Evidence, love,” Stede mumbled as he snapped a few more pictures of Izzy’s chest.

Ed nodded slowly as he caught on to what he meant. “There’s a bruise on his hip too.”

Without thinking, Stede reached out to push down the fabric of Izzy’s clothing, only to be met with a harsh grip on his wrist, and fearful yet warning eyes. He froze, looking back at Izzy and swallowing the lump in his throat. “Izzy, I’m sorry,” he apologised genuinely. “I didn’t think…”

Ed placed a reassuring hand on Stede’s back, and Izzy slowly released his grip. He stayed silent, but stared up at them both, hesitant and a little afraid.

“We don’t have to touch you again, mate, not if you don’t want us to.”

Something inside Izzy’s head was /screaming/. He felt so torn. He didn’t want them to. He wanted to curl into a ball and hide away until the bruises faded enough to pass off as clumsiness. That was what he usually did. That’s what he’d been doing for almost a year. Ed usually didn’t notice. He wouldn’t take them as sick days. He’d drop him a text, telling him he was dealing with something for the bar that he needed to do at home, or at a supplier, or the accountant. He’d disappear for a couple of days. No one cared enough to question it. Now he was so out in the open, so /exposed/ and he was so stupid for letting himself get there. If he’d just suffered alone, he wouldn’t be in this position.

The other part of the voice, screaming inside his head, was telling him to take every single second of gentle contact he could find. He hadn’t been held in years, hugged, comforted. He hadn’t received the soft and the gentle in so long, possibly even since he and Ed had split up. And he wanted desperately now to just curl up in his lap and beg to be taken care of. In fact, a stupid, twisted, untempered part of him wanted to curl up between the both of them, beg the /both/ of them to hold him, feel safe pressed between two bodies. Feel taken care of. Get double the love and affection.

He didn’t know which part of winning, but he did know he hadn’t replied to the question, and he had been silent for far too long.

He looked up to Ed, his eyes desperately trying to convey the internal turmoil. Ed could always read him so easily, so flawlessly. He could only hope four and a half years of separation hadn’t cut the ties.

“Okay, okay, easy…” Ed breathed, sitting back down where he was and placing a gentle hand on his arm, soft and careful. “How about I start putting on some creams and those sticky stitch things? You can tell me if you want to stop. And Stede can stay, yeah? Sit in the room, but he won’t touch. How’s that?”

Izzy wanted to simultaneously melt at Ed’s soft tone, and tell him to fuck off and stop treating him like a baby. The first one won over. He nodded slowly, glancing to Stede who gave him a gentle smile and made his way around the other side of the bed, sitting on the edge and mirroring Ed.

“Okay,” Ed mumbled to himself quietly as he pulled the first aid kit closer. “Ah, sticky stitch things!” He held them triumphantly, mostly to Stede. Izzy could see the way he was putting on a brave face, see the way he was bringing out his goofy extrovert, to keep up the mood. It was something he always struggled to do, when they were together, and something Stede had made him feel comfortable to do now. Even then, he could see how hard he was trying to keep it up.

“They’re called steristrips, love,” Stede chuckled softly, watching on fondly as Ed fumbled to pull them out of the packet.

“So how does this work, Iz?” he asked, giving Stede a wink to show his obvious ignoring was in good humour.

“Well, they’re sticky, Edward,” Izzy muttered, earning a snort of laughter from Stede. After a raised eyebrow from Ed, he relented. “You need to sorta… pinch the skin together, either side of the cut, and stick them across. Don’t overdo it, I’ll need a couple on my temple and one on my lip.”

Ed nodded and suddenly dropped the goofball façade in favour of concentrating. He slid closer, sitting right up next to Izzy nestled back in the pillows. Izzy inhaled sharply, worried eyes glancing up to Ed. He kept telling himself it was fine, it was Ed. Ed wouldn’t ever hurt him. Ed’s expression was reassuring, and level, and everything Izzy needed from him in that moment. He reached up, doing as instructed and gently pinching the cut together. The whine of pain that slipped from Izzy’s mouth was something he hardly recognised, and he felt the one hand he had laid on the bed beside him fist into the sheets.

“Izzy… do you want me to hold your hand?” Stede’s voice floated to him through the silence of the room, but he didn’t dare look at him. He didn’t dare look at either of them now.

“Fuck off, Stede,” he grumbled in response, but his hand was letting go of the sheet and slowly turning over, his palm facing up, his fingers twitching gently. Stede took that as a silent invitation, sliding up the bed closer to him and placing his own hand in Izzy’s. Instantly, fingers clasped around Stede’s and gripped, settling there. Ed took that as a sign to continue.

He took a breath himself, bracing, before pinching the skin once more, trying to work quickly against Izzy’s breaths of pain. Stede could feel his hand shaking in his own, and he gave what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t speak. He felt in other circumstances, gentle words of encouragement would help. But this was Izzy Hands. He didn’t think that would be the correct method this time. Instead he opted for running his thumb back and forth over Izzy’s hand, looking down at their entwined fingers to see his bruised knuckles.

Ed had managed fairly fast and neatly to stick the strips on, moving his hands away to inspect the job. “Okay, not bad. Fiddly buggers, but I think I got it,” he murmured, mostly to himself. He reached down then for another, turning back to Izzy. His expression was still fixed at as neutral as he could make it, gaze set in his lap. Ed didn’t attempt to draw him out just yet. Instead he ran a thumb carefully over his lip, assessing the damage, before he placed a strip over the split. Satisfied he had achieved what he needed to with those, he turned back to the kit.

“Stede, d’ya think… oh, never mind…” Stede tore his gaze away from where his and Izzy’s hands were intertwined to look over.

“What was that, darling?”

“Was just gonna ask what you think was best to use, but I found this.” He held up Elastoplaster gel, wound healing cream. Stede nodded quickly.

“Yes, perfect. And then there’s arnica gel for the bruises.”

“I am still here, you know,” Izzy muttered, making both Stede and Ed look to him fast. His gaze was still fixed down, and whilst he had obviously blinked away most of the tears, one had escaped down his cheek.

Ed sighed and placed his hand back on his jaw, thumb swiping to catch the tear again, just as he had before. “Sorry, Iz,” he whispered. “Just… trying to do my best.” Izzy nodded slowly, his gaze finally lifting to meet Ed’s. “Can I carry on?” Izzy nodded again, the hand that was in Stede’s gripping a little harder in anticipation.

Stede began to soothe his thumb over Izzy’s hand again, watching the way his eyes, so light and green compared to Ed’s dark brown, ran over his face, still holding fear that they all knew was wrongly placed, but could completely understood.

“Izzy…” Once again, Stede’s voice drew him out, and he glanced over at him. “Tell me about the new vodka you went and tried the other day. Ed tells me you’re going to stock it for a signature cocktail.”

A flash of confusion ran across Izzy’s face before he cottoned on what Stede was doing. He was trying to distract him. Fuck it, he wasn’t going to argue.
“It’s… it’s triple distilled. So it’s a really clean flavour. It gets distilled with coffee beans and cinnamon sticks so –…” His voice faltered at Ed’s fingers back on him, rubbing the cream around the wounds, over his cheek. “So it has this real deep flavour. Perfect for an espresso martini with a twist.”

Ed pulled out an antiseptic wipe and removed the remnants of that cream from his fingers before pulling out the arnica gel. “Iz, I’m going to do your chest now, okay?”

There was a brief nod, and now it seemed Izzy was purposefully not looking at him, instead his attention fixed on to Stede. Stede glanced to Ed, giving him a reassuring nod before looking back to Izzy. “And what’s the twist, the cinnamon?”

Izzy nodded, hissing slightly at the cold touch of the cream to his chest, followed by the dull ache and sore burn of fingertips dragging the damaged skin. “If we add cinnamon syrup, a dash of oat milk, I think it’ll be perfect. Lucius loves the idea, Pete hates cinnamon.”

Stede chuckled. Possibly the only thing the married couple ever disagreed on. “Well it sounds delightful to me. I will have to come in and taste it when it goes on sale.” He looked back over to Edward, who was closely concentrating on making sure every inch of bruised skin was covered in the cream. “And what are you going to call it?”

“Fuck knows, that’s Lucius’s department. He does well with words,” Izzy muttered, taking in a breath as Ed caught a particularly bad patch. Ed muttered his gentle apology, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world, dropped a kiss to Izzy’s bare shoulder. He supposed it was the most natural thing in the world. It may have been years since they kissed, but you don’t just unlearn a thing like that.

Izzy’s eyes darted to Stede, to Ed’s fucking /boyfriend/, but he didn’t seem to flinch, didn’t seem to care. Interesting. Ed hadn’t reacted either. Only Izzy looked like he’d been caught in the headlights. So he stayed silent, but felt the need to draw his hand away from Stede’s slowly, his eyes full of guilt and apology.

“Ed, dear, I think some of that on his knuckles too?” Stede was saying softly, through the haze of Izzy’s thoughts. Ed had reached down and taken his other hand, the hand Stede hadn’t just been holding, and was carefully rubbing the cream in with his thumb. Izzy risked looking over at him again, grappling mentally with how it felt to have him caressing his hand again, just like he used to whenever Izzy was anxious. He gently placed it back in his lap, reaching across for the other and repeating the motion. Once he had placed both Izzy’s hands down, he wiped his hands once more before passing him the glass of water.

“What do you want, ibuprofen and paracetamol?” Izzy nodded, letting Ed pop out the pills from the packs into his hand. He knocked them back into his mouth, swallowing them down in one with the water. “Okay, what else do you need?” Izzy just shrugged, looking down at his hands and watching the way his fingers pressed in to the glass. To be held? To have the blinds closed and the world shut out and for Ed to climb in to bed with him and just fucking hold him for a bit? No. Well yes, exactly that, but there was no way he could ask.

“We can leave you to rest, sleep, if you’d like?” Stede asked and Izzy tried to make his second shrug casual, non-committal, even if he wanted to scream ‘no, please don’t leave my side’. “Or do you want us to stay? We could put on a film?” They had one of those insane beds where the TV came out of the foot of it. It probably cost three times Izzy’s monthly rent. He gave the third shrug, and that had Ed giving a knowing sigh.

“Budge over, mate, if we’re gonna sit and watch tv, I want to be comfortable.” So they hadn’t lost the language. Ed had managed to get from his silence what he was screaming. Izzy couldn’t help but feel relieved. Stede stood and helped Ed to pack away the first aid kit, but kept it on top of the dresser for later. “You two choose. I’m going to make something for us to eat. And Izzy, stay hydrated,” he said brightly, enough for Izzy to feel the need to roll his eyes.

Ed, of course, hadn’t made him budge up, but instead had climbed onto the other side of the bed, pushing up some pillows to lean back on. For now, he left distance between them in the huge, king-sized bed. Far enough that Izzy didn’t feel imposed upon, but close enough that closing the distance wouldn’t be a problem.

“Back in a sec!” Stede said in a sing-song way that had Izzy rolling his eyes again. Unwavering fucking optimism and positivity, that man. How Ed lived with it he didn’t know.

Except he did. Because that was the polar opposite of how Izzy was when they had been together.

“Yeah, mate, it’s exhausting, but you learn to love it. Like, really fucking fast,” Ed was chuckling, picking up the remote and watching the TV rise from the bed. “So, what are we feeling? Awful rom-com? Comedy? Enemies to lovers and there’s only one bed?”

Izzy couldn’t help the slight smile on his face at Edward’s words. “You choose,” he found himself murmuring, settling to try and get a little comfier in the pillows.

Chapter Text

Izzy began picking slowly at a loose thread on the sheet in front of him as Ed scrolled Netflix. He reached forward, clamping his mouth shut to stifle the groan of pain, and pulled on the t-shirt that had been left. God, it smelt of him. It was clean, freshly washed in fact, but it smelt of Ed. Izzy wanted that, needed that, so bad. He tried not to make it obvious he was breathing deeply as he pulled it over his head, trying to use the familiar scent to calm him. He then went back to picking at the thread again, eyes down.

Ed had hit play on something random, he wasn’t even sure what. He had given Izzy’s nervous ticks a couple of sideways glances before he was standing from the bed. “Just going to help Stede bring up the food. I won’t be a sec.”

Izzy’s eyes flashed up to him, and if they were glassy with tears again, neither of them would admit it. He wanted to beg Ed to stay at his side, in fact never, ever leave. To bundle him in his strong arms and hold him close and just tell him it was going to be okay. He couldn’t say that though.

So he gave a quick nod and cast his gaze down again. Ed left the room quickly, pulling the door to but not shutting it. He made it about five steps down the hallway before he broke, having to stop walking the way the tears were coming so fast, flowing down his cheeks onto his shirt. He clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his sobs, walking himself as far as he could away from the room Izzy was in. He collapsed back against the wall outside of his and Stede’s bedroom, his back sliding down it until he was sat on the plush carpet.

No even on their darkest days had he seen Izzy like this. And he had no clue what to do.

He buried his face in his knees, letting the sobs wash over him. Izzy was so hurt. He’d never seen anything like it. Part of him didn’t ever believe stuff like this existed in the real world. He didn’t think shit like this actually happened. And yet there it was. He had only ever loved two people in his whole life, and his first love was currently sat in their guest bed, broken and beaten and looking so fucking lost and /scared/.

Ed was scared too.

Then there was a careful hand on his shoulder, and Stede was crouching slowly in front of him. “Ed, darling…” His voice was gentle, so soft. Stede always spoke to him so kindly. He raised his head slowly to look up at him, wiping his cheeks roughly and clearing his throat. Stede sighed, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “I know, I know,” he soothed gently, reaching out to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind Ed’s ear.

“I just… he… I never…” Ed took a deep breath, calming his shaking breathing. “I should have stopped this. I should have fucking stopped this, Stede.”

“How could you have, darling? You didn’t know. And Izzy never would have told you, ever. Even if you’d asked directly, I don’t think he would have. This isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry, Ed, but I don’t think anyone could have prevented this because no one knew…”

Ed swallowed hard and nodded slowly. What Stede said was logical, and yet Ed’s inner demons were screaming at him about how he had failed. He had failed to protect Izzy, yet again. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” He raised his gaze to Stede, and looked like he really meant it. Stede sat himself back on the floor too, in front of Ed, taking both his hands.

“Listen to me, Ed,” he began softly, in the way that he had to when Ed was getting in his own head, spiralling in his thoughts, heading towards making rash decisions. “You ending up arrested for GBH isn’t going to help any of us, but especially Izzy. Right now, we need to focus on Izzy, and helping him heal. Once he feels strong enough, we will go to the police. He will go to prison for this… and if we lived in some lawless world where we could seriously hurt him and get away with it, I would let you.” Ed raised an eyebrow at that. “Honestly, darling, I would let you. But there’s no point you getting taken away from us. Izzy needs you.” Stede reached out and cupped his cheek, caressing over his soft skin, wiping away the tears. “He really needs you, Ed.”

Ed took another deep, shaky breath and nodded again. “Yeah… yeah, okay,” he agreed softly, clearing his throat again and wiping his cheeks of tears.

“It doesn’t mean you can’t find this hard, though,” Stede assured gently. “Because it is. It’s awful. You have every right to find it hard, and you have every right to cry about it. I’m here for you, for as much as you need to cry. And whatever happens, I’m here for Izzy too.” He took Ed’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Ed laughed softly, his eyes welling up again at Stede’s words.

“Oh hush,” Stede scolded fondly. He kissed Ed’s knuckles and let the silence fall for a while whilst Ed collected himself again.

“I want to hold him, Stede,” Ed confessed softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Stede nodded quickly. “I think that’s perfectly reasonable, darling. And the only permission you should be seeking for that is his, not mine,” he assured.

Ed half nodded, expecting that to be the case. Then he looked away again, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. “But what if… the lines could be so blurred. We’re so familiar but we have this distance now. We used to hug and kiss and cuddle and… everything. Every day. All the time. What if…”

“You’re afraid of stepping over a line?” Stede offered softly, trying to compound Ed’s worries for him where he seemed to be struggling.

“Yeah. For all of us.”

Stede sighed softly, not in exasperation, but consideration. He shifted to settle himself next to Ed, back pressed to the same wall, still holding his hand.
“As far as I see it right now, if Izzy wants that kind of gentle comfort, he is more than welcome to it. If he asks, or if you ask and he says yes, that is enough for me to know it is well placed, well meaning. I don’t think at the moment there are lines, Ed. I think there’s only love that’s needed, and love that wants to be given.”

Ed went to open his mouth at Stede’s choice of words but he held up a hand to stop him. “And I know, I know. You love me. I know you love me, darling, and I love you. But I know you also love Izzy, you’ve never hidden that from me. I will admit, I hadn’t ever considered that I would be confronted with that so… physically. But right now, God knows Izzy needs to be loved. I am happy for you to do that in any way he wants you to, in any way he needs you to. Because I know you love me too…”

Ed looked at Stede in sheer shock for a second, his eyes once again filling with tears, before he was quickly leaning in and pressing their lips together in a meaningful, soft kiss. “I do love you, Stede, so much,” he whispered against his lips. “Thank you for being so amazing.”

Stede chuckled softly, kissing him once more before pulling away. “I’m fairly fond of Izzy myself. Whatever will help him.” He was then pulling himself off the floor and standing. “I’m heating some soup, I thought something plain would be best. I’ll bring it up in a minute.”

Ed nodded, taking another second to psyche himself up before he was standing again. “Thanks, babe. I’ll… I’ll go back in.” He took a breath, running his hands over his face to catch the last remnants of the fact he had been crying, before pressing another kiss to Stede’s cheek and heading back down the hallway.

He pushed open the door of the bedroom to find Izzy on his feet, fumbling with the stack of pillows that had fallen across the bed from where he had been leant against them. He looked back at Ed fast when he heard the door creak, a guilty look in his eyes that only served to make Ed sadder.

“What you doing, mate?” he asked him softly, staying next to the open door, not liking for a second how flighty Izzy seemed.

“I was… I’ve… you need to get back to work,” he settled on after two false starts of his sentence. “And so does Stede.”

Ed let the frown pass over his face for a second. “They’re our own businesses. They can wait for us. This is more important. /You’re/ more important.”

“No, I’m not,” Izzy breathed instantly before he could stop himself, a sad almost-smile brushing his lips for a moment, a look that made Ed’s chest tighten. A look that meant he really believed that. “I should get back anyway. Get my stuff.” He took a step and felt his knees go weak, but tried to brush it aside. And fuck, just standing was hurting, putting strain on his chest, and the more he talked the more his lip felt like it was splitting open again. “I’m sure I can crash on Frenchie’s sofa for a couple of days. He’s usually playing gigs so…” He trailed off as he looked back up at Ed again, who was staring at him in total disbelief. “What?”

“Iz you… you can’t go.” It seemed like such a pathetic thing to say, but that was truly what he meant. “You have to rest. You’ve been seriously injured. You can’t sleep on a fucking sofa. And there is no way in hell I am letting you walk back in to that flat!” He didn’t raise his voice, and he tried to stay calm and level but he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Izzy blinked back at him. “I can’t just sit in your house, Ed. In your spare bed.”

“Yeah you can, mate. You need to. Doesn’t it… like, fuck, man, isn’t your whole body just on fire right now? And you’ve probably got fucking concussion. Why are you saying you can’t be here?”

“It’s your house. Yours and Stede’s,” he replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I… I’m your ex-husband, Ed.”

Ed took a step towards him then, but he was slow and cautious, careful not to make Izzy feel like he was trapped in the corner.

“We want you to be here. Both of us. We want to look after you. Stede just said so himself.” He stopped when he was almost in touching distance but didn’t push further. “I want to look after you.”

Izzy swallowed hard and there was a falter in his expression then, a crack in the façade, like he was trying desperately to hold something back. “I’m your ex-husband,” he repeated, like that explained everything. And really, it did. It was saying everything Ed and Stede had just talked about, about crossing lines and boundaries. Izzy just couldn’t communicate it as well. That had always been their issue.

“Stede is more than happy for you to be here. He just told me so. He wants you here too, where we can look after you.” He didn’t use Stede’s exact words, about loving Izzy, for fear of him running a mile. “Please mate, if nothing else let us just look after your injuries for a few days.”

If nothing else. It was the else Izzy needed, so desperately.

“Just… get back in to bed, Iz… please.” It took a few more seconds before Izzy was nodding, defeated, and climbing back onto the bed with a groan of pain that sent a new shot of hurt and anger through Ed’s core. He watched him settle back into the pillows, and went to sit the other side of him again.

Izzy went back to picking at the thread on the sheets, eyes down. Ed knew every single nervous tick Izzy had ever had. If he wasn’t looking at Ed, or the tv, or anywhere noticeably in the room, it was bad. Inside his head, it was bad. Ed slowly reached out, making sure Izzy could see the hand coming, and let it rest on top of the one that was repeatedly pulling on the cotton.

“I’m here, Iz,” he said quietly. “Let me be here for you.”

He had been fighting it and fighting it. He was so exhausted. Everything about this was exhausting. The pain, the anger, the desperation, the need, the fear. It was all just so fucking exhausting. He was swamped in the smell of his ex-lover, a man whom his heart would always belong to, who was sat next to him, warm hand on top of his freezing one, speaking so softly and kindly to him, in ways he hadn’t heard in years. And he couldn’t stop it anymore. He broke.

Chapter Text

Izzy wasn’t above crying. He maybe once was, in his youth, when he felt he had things to prove. But Ed had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and eventually that mindset rubbed off on Izzy. He didn’t cry often, even then, but he really meant it when he did.

The day they decided to split up, the day that had their biggest row yet, Izzy was pretty sure he cried for about four hours straight. So had Ed. They had sobbed, the both of them, sobbed into each other’s arms. They had been so desperate to make it work, so desperate to find the path that would lead them back to each other again. The realisation that time had passed was one of the hardest things Izzy had ever had to accept.

That was the last time he sobbed in Ed’s arms. The last time he sobbed in anyone’s arms.

This felt the same now, but so different. The desperation to hold on, the realisation something had to give, that things had come to end. The understanding that no matter how much you tried it was never going to change or get better. It felt like all of those things, but not in the way it felt with Ed. Something was ending, Izzy knew that, he knew it had to end. Maybe it was relief fuelling the sobs that were taking over his body. Maybe it was fear. Maybe the past was screaming at him to stop letting history repeat itself. Maybe it was the feeling he was just an unlovable character, destined to never get it right. Whatever it was, it shook him to his very core.

Izzy bowed his head, letting the tears tumble straight into his lap. His hand went limp under Ed’s, and his shoulders shook as the sobs ripped through his torso. And fuck, it hurt. The gasping breaths hurt his chest like nothing he had felt before. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, muffle the cries, but Ed was right there next to him and was going to hear every single noise from his mouth. He was going to see everything. That was somehow so much harder than Izzy ever thought it was going to be.

“Iz… baby…” Baby. Fucking hell. He never imagined he would ever hear Ed call him that again. Ed would only call him that when he really meant it, when silly pet names just wouldn’t work, and the way those syllables fell from his lips became so stupidly sincere, even if to others it was an offhand term of endearment. To them it was real, it was comforting and it was home. It would only every slip from Ed’s lips occasionally, in two particular circumstances. First was when they were making love. Not just fucking, but making love, and Izzy always had a clear distinction of that in his head. There was a difference, and there certainly was with Edward. The other time was when Izzy was in a bad place, and Ed could draw him out. He’d call him baby then, reach into the darkness with his warm, soft touch, and pull him carefully towards the gentle light.

That’s what he was trying to do now. Izzy didn’t know if he could let it work anymore.

“Can I touch you, Iz? I want… I want to hold you?” Izzy felt his chest clench even tighter and god, it /hurt/. Everything hurt so bad. He needed it. He needed to be held. How could he say yes? What about everything? What about their past? What about Stede?

But the weakness was creeping in and Izzy was pretty sure he was getting powerless to refuse now. He would just have to suffer the consequences later, whatever Stede felt was appropriate.

So he caved, giving the merest of nods, but that was all it took. Ed was sliding an arm around his shoulders, carefully pulling him closer, manhandling Izzy, moving him into his lap. Izzy could feel he was being careful, mindful of his injuries, but it still hurt like hell. But then Ed had him settled, had drawn him to his chest, encouraged him to curl up there, arms wound around him, and he was burying his face in Izzy’s hair, pressing slow and purposeful kisses to the top of his head, the curve of his jaw, his neck. “I’ve got you Izzy… I’ve got you, baby. Just breathe for me… that’s it… breathe.”

His words should’ve been condescending, maybe, but Izzy couldn’t feel an ounce of that. All it felt was sincere and meaningful and /loving/. He couldn’t help the way he burrowed into Ed’s soft warmth, into the embrace that was so familiar. He couldn’t help the way he tipped his head up a little be able to bury his face in the crook of Ed’s neck, and inhale so deeply his scent, like the best drug he had ever had. He couldn’t help the way his shaking hands raised to grab fistfuls of his stupidly old t-shirt, squeezing tight until he felt his knuckles crack. He knew Ed could feel his tears falling from his cheeks onto his skin, and it seemed to prompt him to cradle Izzy even closer, a hand sliding into his hair at the back of his head to hold him there, almost encouraging the way he was nuzzling into his skin.

Izzy couldn’t have this. This wasn’t his to have. Ed wasn’t his to have.

“’m sorry…” he found himself mumbling as he tried to pull away, but Ed’s grip wasn’t loosening.

“What for?” he asked sincerely, and Izzy felt a shiver run through him at the way Ed’s lips grazed the shell of his ear, his hot breath ghosting over his skin.

“Shouldn’t be… like this. With you.” He tried to move back again, with a little more effort this time, but Ed still seemed to be having none of it.

“Why not, mate? Iz, you’re hurting. I want to comfort you.” The hand was back in his hair again, carding through slowly. The bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing. He used to be able to send Izzy to sleep with that motion in a heartbeat. It calmed him, relaxed him, made him fucking putty in Ed’s arms.

And if to orchestrate his point, Stede breezed into the room in that moment. Izzy jolted, cursing under his breath the shot of pain that followed, and continued to follow as he tried to scramble out of Ed’s arms. The only thing firing off in his brain was ‘shit shit shit shit shit’ as he tried to put space between him and Ed, though he knew it was too late. Knew there was no way Stede wouldn’t have seen as he walked into the room.

Ed was looking at him, both astounded and confused. He’d even managed to keep a hand on him, in Izzy’s fumbling, supporting his back and therefore not letting him move too far away. Izzy couldn’t help but lean in to it, suddenly finding he didn’t have the entirety of his core strength to hold himself in a sitting position. His eyes, still filled with tears that were making their escape and tracking down his cheeks, flashed over to Stede, who was stood in the doorway holding a tray with bowls of soup. He seemed to deflate as he looked at Izzy, and then looked at Ed, before his gaze came to settle upon Izzy again.

Izzy bowed his head in shame, tensing a little as the hand on his back began to rub slow circles. He wanted to scream at Ed, to ask what he thought he was doing, why he was drawing attention to that fact his hands were on /Izzy/ in front of his boyfriend. He tried to half shrug it away as he made his way towards the edge of the bed. He could go to Fang’s. Or maybe it was best to go to Roach. He could crash there, and he would probably have the good painkillers, the ones that made the world numb a little around him, make it go hazy at the edges, make it all go quieter.

“What’re you doing?” Ed’s tone was filled with worry and it made Izzy’s head spin. He couldn’t face looking at him. Instead, he was looking at Stede as he was moving towards him, having placed the tray on the top of a chest of drawers nearer the door. Izzy swallowed down against the lump in his throat and /braced/. He wouldn’t though, would he? Not in front of Ed. Surely not in front of Ed.

Stede came to stand next to Izzy’s side. He didn’t loom, or even block his exit, but he was close enough that it had Izzy’s pulse spiking. “If you’re worried about what I’m going to think, you need to stop that now,” he said gently, and his tone had Izzy faltering. He bought his gaze up to meet Stede’s eyes, his own still welling up, the tears still tracking down his cheeks. “Izzy, I very much get the impression you haven’t been touched in a kind, comforting way in a very long time.”

Izzy felt his entire body tense against Stede’s words and he sensed Ed felt it too from the way the hand on his back stilled. It was like Stede had looked right into his mind. Of course, that concept would have been obvious to anyone, really. It was clear Izzy hadn’t had that, hadn’t had anyone be gentle with him in far too long. But the way Stede said it, the way he looked at him, the way his words dripped with the implication of so much more than that, like he understood how damaging that was, how hard that was. Like he could see right into Izzy’s soul.

“You can need and want this, and you can have it with Ed. I don’t mind, I’m not worried about it. I’m certainly not angry about it. We’ve even spoken about it.” Stede looked over to Ed, and Izzy couldn’t help but follow his gaze. There was a soft smiled exchanged, and a gentle nod from Ed before he was meeting Izzy’s eyes.

“Nothing else matters right now, Iz. Nothing else but letting me try to make you feel better.”

Unable to hold himself up anymore, Izzy flopped back into the pillows. He rested his head back, letting his eyes drop closed and feeling yet more hot tears escape down his cheeks at the action. He wasn’t used to being so fucking transparent, and he wasn’t used to someone being so eloquent in return. Another major problem he and Ed had was communication. Izzy got more and more closed off and Ed found it harder and harder to talk to him about it. But if Izzy had known the last time Ed held him was going to be the last time anyone had held him like that, he would have held on longer. So much longer.

He felt the mattress dip next to him and he slowly opened his eyes to see Stede perched on the edge of the bed. When he could see Izzy was looking at him, aware of him, he reached out slowly, extending his arm and giving Izzy enough time to vocalise a warning or push his hand away. When that didn’t come, Stede’s hand came to rest on Izzy’s jaw, thumb carefully caressing back and forth over his greying stubble. Izzy felt his brain short-circuit for a moment and he didn’t seem to have words. Instead he absolutely melted against Stede’s hand in a way he never imagined he would under anyone else’s touch other than Ed’s. Speaking of, Ed’s hand was soon on him again too, running down his arm and settling to take his hand, lacing their fingers and giving a gentle squeeze.

Izzy didn’t know whether to scream, laugh or cry. What was even happening? What point was being proved here? What was the end game of this? He was powerless to ask any of these questions. He felt this was probably one of those times where he really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

“How about we eat, we all need to. And then after we can talk and… work it out?” Stede offered quietly. Izzy was totally unsure what he meant by ‘work it out’, and what exactly the ‘it’ was that he was referring to. But he couldn’t refuse. He couldn’t refuse any of this now, being taken care of. Something inside him told him he really needed to allow it this time.

So he gave a slow nod, feeling the slight spark of disappointment run through him as Stede moved his hand away again. Stede stood, moving away from the bed to go and get the tray of soups. That was when Izzy’s phone screen lit up from where he had discarded it on the bedside earlier on when he got undressed, and CJ’s name appeared. His eyes darted to it, then back to Ed, who’s expression had darkened beyond recognition.

Chapter Text

Stede watched as two hands flashed towards the bedside to grab at the phone. Izzy was closer, of course, but the stretch of his sore and bruised muscles against the movement was slowing him down. Stede watched something else make his movement falter too; the way Ed leaned across him, the way his lips were almost pressed to his ear, the way Stede could just about hear him breathe ‘don’t you fucking dare’ into Izzy’s ear. Stede would have expected a comment like that to sound menacing, maybe even threatening, something that would trigger Izzy into a spiral of mistrust. Instead, Ed made it sound sad, and longing, and protective. He made it sound like a beg.

Izzy’s hand retracted. Ed was still leaning across, his hand still making it’s journey to the phone. But before it could land there, Stede was reaching out, grabbing it himself, removing it from reach.

Ed was quick to look up at him, confusion mixed with a little anger in his expression. Stede looked between them, at the way Izzy’s eyes were still red and still wet, the way he could see the glint of the paths of tears that had run down his cheeks, highlighting and accenting the bruises. Izzy had been in his life for years now, a feature Stede had no choice in and yet knew his life was so much richer for. It had been a strange concept to get his head around at first. When he’d met Ed, Izzy was nowhere to be found and Ed didn’t exactly know where he’d gone. To this day they still didn’t really know, and now Stede was thinking about it, that was horribly suspicious and more concerning than he had ever given it credit for before. But he could tackle that later. When Izzy had appeared out of the woodwork again, Ed had been quick to try and rebuild bridges. They ran a business together after all.

Izzy had been shocked Ed had wanted him to stay on, though he was more than prepared to. It took some months, but their working relationship recovered fast and the whole team were glad to have him back, have them back together. Their relationship outside of work had remained rocky for some time beyond that however. Izzy hadn’t taken kindly to how quickly Ed seemed to have ‘moved on’. It was only after a huge argument, one Stede was sure was rather akin to the arguments they had before their divorce, in which Ed pointed out that he didn’t /choose/ to fall in love with Stede so fast, that he wasn’t looking out of it, that they had stumbled across each other but he didn’t want to deny himself that happiness anymore, that Izzy caved and finally agreed to meet him.

The reception was frosty at first, and Stede had expected nothing less. Izzy seemed to respect him though, after a few months. Within a year, he was regularly around to join them for dinner, or meeting them for a drink, or welcoming Stede into the bar on closed days to work from his favourite booth in the corner whilst Izzy and Ed took stock or tried new cocktails or did paperwork. Izzy became a permanent feature in his life, without him even realising.

More and more was revealed about their marriage as time went on, and Stede could understand on a deeper level how they got to where they were. They still loved each other, that much as obvious and Stede couldn’t be angry or concerned about that. Their love was different. It was so fierce, so deep, that it only served to hurt them. They were fire to each other; the closer they stood together the greater the flames became, until they were out of control. They could never sustain something like that. But the distance healed, and Stede knew despite his love for Izzy, Ed was wholly and completely his. He liked having Izzy around. He liked the fact they made each other happy now, when they couldn’t before.

Then Izzy met CJ. He stopped coming round for dinner. He stopped meeting them for drinks. He stopped smiling.

In that moment, stood there holding Izzy’s vibrating phone, Stede felt a need to protect Izzy in a way he had rarely felt with anyone before. Perhaps it was because he knew it was for Ed’s sake too, and that he needed to protect Ed from this as well. Izzy had been so scared to be found in Ed’s arms, and so visibly desperate to not let go at the same time, it made Stede’s stomach churn. He needed to be the level force in this equation, to balance them out.

“Let’s not make any rash choices here,” he said softly, as the call rang out and the phone screen darkened once more. “He doesn’t deserve one utterance from either of you.”

The phone in his hand buzzed again and he glanced down at the screen.

‘Bet you’re at his fucking house, you grovelling whore.’

Stede swallowed hard and swiped the notification away. “Izzy, I’m going to put this on silent and I recommend you don’t check it. In fact, I’d like to remove it from the room. If there is something to do with the bar, they will call Ed. Are you okay with that?”

Izzy seemed to be looking at him in stunned silence, before nodding slowly. Stede was gone only a minute, returning with empty hands. “It’s in our bedroom if you want it,” he informed him softly before turning to the tray of soup, bringing two bowls and spoons over to the bed. “Now eat up the pair of you.”

Ed blinked at him slowly, surprised by the way Stede had taken control but glad he had. He had to admit, he wasn’t thinking straight. What exactly would he have said if he had answered the phone? Nothing that would have been helpful or constructive. Instead he took the bowl from Stede and began to eat, slowly mulling over how to coax Izzy into trusting their comfort.

Izzy began to eat too, but he was only a few mouthfuls in when he placed the bowl on the bedside table. He really had no appetite.

“Is there something else you’d rather have?” Stede offered softly from where he was sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his own soup bowl in his hand. Izzy seemed to jolt at his words and he looked up at him before silently shaking his head.

Ed and Stede shared a look. Ed was just scraping his bowl clean, not realising how hungry he had been. “I could make you your favourite sandwich,” he offered as he placed his bowl on the side. Izzy only gave a weak, fake smile and shook his head again.

Once again, Stede and Ed shared a glance. Ed had never experienced this side of Izzy. He supposed time, separation, and living with an absolute arsehole for over a year could change people. But Izzy was never silent. He didn’t just let things go. And he didn’t take kindly to people being soft and gentle with him like this, giving him options. Ed felt the anger begin to simmer deep within him again. CJ really had gone too far. He’d made Izzy Hands /pliant/.

“Izzy.” Ed’s voice was rough, and unexpectantly loud. The clock ticked in the corner, and downstairs Marmalade was mewling softly. Izzy could hear how is own breaths wheezed against his bruised chest, and the way Stede’s spoon clinked against the bowl. It was like he could hear /everything/, feel /everything/. The way the sheets rustled beneath him. The way the stitches pulled on his skin. The way his eyes were still slightly sticky from the tears. “Iz for god sake, say something.”

Stede knew it was out of desperation, and out of care, but the way Izzy kept his gaze fixed to his lap, the way his body tensed at the words, the way he remained very still and very, very silent told him this had to stop.

“Edward, I think Marmalade needs feeding.” Stede’s tone was somewhat sharp and it had Ed looking over at him instantly. He recognised the look on Stede’s face, the look he got when he was trying to tell Ed to reign it in. For fear of what he could say next, Ed was on his feet and leaving the room in seconds.

Izzy let out the breath he had been holding, keeping his gaze fixed down. “I want to sleep,” he near enough whispered. There was something about the way he said it, coupled with the body language, that had Stede complying. There was no point in pushing any of this now. No point in trying to make him talk, or talk to him. He wasn’t in a fit state, and they all needed to recognise that.

“We will be right here,” Stede promised softly, standing to quickly draw the curtains before leaving the room, leaving the door slightly open. He knew full well that Izzy didn’t want to sleep, he wanted them out of the room for a bit. He wasn’t going to argue. He couldn’t imagine where his head was. And he also knew Ed needed to calm down significantly before they interacted again.

Stede took a deep breath to find some internal calming strength as he headed down the stairs to Ed, who was pacing up and down the length of the kitchen, Marmalade trying to wind her way in and out of his legs. He was ignoring her, which was making her mewl even louder at him. Stede slowly entered the room, eyes on Ed.

“I’m going over there.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Look at what he’s done to him, Stede!” The shout shouldn’t have been a surprise to Stede, but he had hoped Ed would at least try and moderate his volume, for Izzy’s sake. He quickly closed the door behind him to try and block him from the conversation.

“Edward, I am just as angry as you. But I meant what I said before. What good will you be to anyone if you get arrested for beating the shit out of him too?!”

“But he’s silent! He’s absolutely silent! Izzy is /never/ silent! Even when he doesn’t say anything meaningful or useful, he’d never be silent! He’d at least tell me to fuck off!”

As Ed started to pace again, Stede reached down to scoop Marmalade up in his arms for fear of her getting squashed under Ed’s heavy steps.

“He’s terrified Ed,” Stede said softly, running his hand slowly down the ginger and orange cat’s back, using her soft fur as a grounding.

“He doesn’t need to be terrified of us though, does he? We aren’t going to hurt him!”

“And what part of his survival instinct is going to provide him with that information? None. Because the last time he trusted someone, he ended up like this.” Stede sighed and shook his head at Ed’s hurt look. “Please, Ed. You have to take a step back here. We need to build a level of trust with him again, even if that seems alien. Give him some space, use that time to calm down, and then we’ll try again, okay?”

Ed narrowed his eyes at him. “Try what again?”

“Getting him to talk, firstly. And then letting you hold him, secondly. I saw how he was. He actually relaxed in to you. He needs that. We just need to convince him it’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay! It’s Iz… I…” It seemed to sink in then, and Ed leant back against the kitchen counter, bowing his head. Stede placed Marmalade back on the floor and was in front of him in an instant, one hand on his shoulder, the other guiding his head back up to look at him.

“I know. You love him,” he whispered. “And you want to protect him and look after him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. I don’t know him half as well as you do and /I/ want to do all of that myself. But we can’t force that on him, he has to be ready, else we’re only going to push him further away.”

Ed listening intently to his words, glad to have Stede so close, pressing him against the counter, grounding him. He tipped his head forward, resting his forehead to Stede’s. “I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

Stede smiled briefly before he tilted his head to press his lips against Ed’s, a gentle kiss, careful and soft enough to leave Ed wanting more. “I love you too,” he whispered back, just allowing them to breathe the same air for a moment. Marmalade wound herself around their legs and Stede looked down, chuckling. “She doesn’t like the tension, she’s trying to help.” He stepped back and scooped her up again, pressing a kiss to her head.

Ed sighed, scratching her under the chin for a second before stepping away. “I need to ring Fang, tell him what’s going on. He and Pete will have to hold the fort for a while.”

Stede nodded, letting him step away. “I’m going to put an out of office on. It can tick along for a few days without me,” he murmured in return.

They went their separate ways then, making phone calls, sending emails. Ed made sure he kept the details scant for now with the team at Blackbeard’s Bar, knowing Izzy wouldn’t thank him for revealing it all. Still, for Ed to say they were both going to be away from the bar for an unknown period of time, everyone sensed it was serious. Fang had assured him he had it under control, and Ed trusted him, but told him to call for any major issues.

Whilst Ed was on the phone, Stede had silently padded upstairs to check on Izzy. He peered through the gap in the door he had left slightly open, and felt a smile graze across his lips upon seeing that he had actually fallen asleep, even if that wasn’t his intention. That could only be good. Rest would help heal his wounds and hopefully clear his mind for a while.

He came back down to tell Ed he seemed to be peaceful for now, and so they went about making dinner, feeding Marmalade, their usual evening routine. Still, Stede could see how distracted Ed was. His mind was always wandering, and it was something Stede loved about him. He could change across three different subjects in under a minute. The skill of trying to keep up was something Stede had honed, and loved. He loved the way his boyfriend’s brain worked, always looking for the next adventure, always calculating the next move. Ed sometimes found it a curse, struggling to relax against his forever unquiet brain. Tonight was one of those nights. Stede knew every time he stopped and stared into space a second, when he absentmindedly stirred the dinner a little too long, when he dropped something in the washing up bowl, when he fell over Marmalade and swore louder than usual, his mind was on Izzy.

Between them, they went to check on him every hour or so. Every time they went up, he was still asleep, curled around the pillows that Ed had been leaning against. After they’d watched a couple of episodes of the latest series they were binging (Frenchie had got them on to Doctor Who and now they were both addicted), Stede made the decision they were both heading to bed and Ed shouldn’t argue.

Ed went to check on Izzy one last time. He allowed himself to linger a little longer, standing leaning against the doorframe, just watching the rise and fall of his deep, sleep-rhythm breaths. A smile grazed his lips as he imagined Izzy calling him a freak, or a twat, for watching him sleep. He didn’t care. He used to do it all the time, when they were married. Ed wasn’t the best sleeper, mind always too active. When Izzy was asleep, he slept like the dead. Ed would frequently wake in the middle of the night and just watch him. Watch the way his eyelids fluttered, the way his fingers twitched against Ed’s skin, the way if he was disturbed a little he would burrow closer and hold on. Ed had to resist climbing into bed with him now. He knew it would panic him, he knew he couldn’t without permission. But the need to hold him was like an itch, desperate to be scratched. He hoped they would get to that. For now though, he let Izzy sleep.

Chapter Text

"He's not in bed..." Ed’s voice made Stede jolt a little. He’d half woken when he felt Ed get out of bed a few minutes before, but was still in that middle-land between wake and sleep.

"Hmm?" Stede groaned slightly as he shifted in bed, sitting up a little more and leaning back on his elbows. "What do you mean love?"

"He's not in bed. I got up to go to the toilet and thought I’d just put my head in. He’s not there.”

"Don't panic. Maybe he's in the bathroom?" Stede offered, rubbing his eyes a little against the sleep. He glanced sideways at the bedside clock. 1:58am.

"I checked. I'm going downstairs." Before Stede could say anything further Ed was gone, and he could hear his bare feet padding down the carpeted stairs.

After one lap around the downstairs, looking in the kitchen, the adjoining living room, back into the dining room, Stede's office next to it, Ed was getting frantic. He couldn't have gone back. Why the fuck would he go back?! It was only on his second lap that he noticed the bifold doors from Stede's office out into the garden slightly ajar.

He raced to the door, pushing it open and stepping out onto the patio. He looked left first, to where the they had the outside dining set and his heart sank when he saw nothing in the gloom. Then he glanced to the right, and his eyes finally settled on Izzy. He'd dragged a chair to the other end of the patio, facing away from Ed, looking out across the garden to where the fence ran along the far side, adjacent to the expanse of rolling fields. They had a completely unobstructed view of... nothing. And it was blissful. Ed found it so blissful. Seemingly Izzy did too, though in the darkness with no street lights, the view wasn't the thing he was focused on. Instead his head was tipped back, and he was looking up to the sky at the way the stars glittered, their light unhindered by the lack of clouds on the clear night.

Ed let out a sigh of relief, and then a small smile grazed his lips as he watched Izzy raise his hand, a small plume of smoke rising from his lips. He cleared his throat to make Izzy aware of his presence, though he felt maybe Izzy knew he was there already.

"Where the fuck did you get a cigarette from?" he asked gently, the amusement clear in his voice. He picked up another chair from the set and carried it over to place it next to Izzy. He resisted the urge to place a hand on Izzy's shoulder as he moved to sit in the chair, slowly sinking himself down.

"Come off it, Ed. Stede may be completely blind to your secret stash but I'm not. You're fucking predictable. Back of the wardrobe in the guest bedroom? Predictable." He chuckled softly and shook his head slowly, taking another drag from the cigarette before reaching over and offering it to Ed. "I assume he doesn't know."

"Nah, mate. He knows I used to smoke. And to be fair, it's rare I have one now. Had that pack about six months, only had two." He glanced sideways at the offered cigarette before shaking his head.

Izzy shrugged. "Suit yourself," he mumbled and raised it to his lips again, taking another drag and slowly exhaling. The smoke mingled between them, as did the silence for a moment.

"What makes you have one?" Izzy asked after a while, voice quiet yet so loud in the silence of the garden.

"The two in the last six months? First one was the night of the police raid at the bar..."

Izzy almost snorted and nodded. "Yeah, fuck, I can see why. Honestly, twats. How could they have got that lead so wrong. We're the cleanest fucking bar for miles," he muttered. "And the other?"

Ed sighed, keeping his eyes facing forward. "Argument with Stede."

Izzy outright laughed then, but it wasn't cruel. Ed would know why he was laughing, he was sure of that. They used to have a routine, after they argued. They'd go their separate ways for a few hours, Izzy usually to the gym and Ed usually under the covers in bed, or a blanket fort on the sofa. Then they'd crawl back to each other, share a cigarette, and mumble apologies. The fact Ed seemed to still have the habit tickled Izzy in a way he didn't really understand.

He took another deep drag, sighing this time as he exhaled. "I can make a pack last a couple of weeks now," he admitted quietly. "Guess that isn't bad compared to what we used to smoke."

Ed smirked and shrugged. "True. True..." He glanced at Izzy then, his features dimly illuminated by the glow from the lights in the house. "When did you wake up?"

"Couple of hours ago," he muttered. In the dim light Ed could see the darkening bruises on his face, the deep bags under his eyes adding to the darkening hue of his skin. "Couldn't get back to sleep. Could hear every fucking creak in the house. Every time I started to drift off I kept thinking..." He trailed off, his meaning clear, and instead raised the cigarette to his lips again.

Ed nodded, carefully reaching across to place his hand on top of Izzy's left one where it sat on top of the arm of the chair. "He won't touch you again. I will never let him touch you again," he promised, and while the volume of his voice was soft, his tone was laced with fire and ice and deep sincerity.

"I know," Izzy breathed in return. He took one final drag of the cigarette before dropping the rest to the floor under his foot and crushing it. Ed refrained from commenting that Stede would kill him if he saw. He could deal with it in a minute. Right now, Izzy was talking, and he couldn't put him off.

The silence hung again for a moment, before Izzy slowly turned his hand over so his palm was pressing to Ed's. "I don't want to go back, Eddie." His voice was distant and unsure and almost shaking, in a way he hadn't heard in years. It made Ed's heart skip.

"You're not going back," Ed replied instantly. "You're never going back to that flat, to him. You're never going to see him again, Iz, other than in fucking court."

Izzy winced a little at the thought, but let it go for now. He could tackle that later. "I've got nowhere to go though."

"Don't be stupid, Iz. You're here. That's where you stay until you get yourself sorted."

Izzy sighed and shook his head slowly. "Is that really going to work, Ed? It's going to take me months to find somewhere to rent. I don't want... Stede, he's... he's so kind but... he can't really mean it, right? Being happy that I'm here. Happy that I..." He shook his head and looked away again. Fuck sake. "Happy that I was in your arms like that."

“Mate, he actually is. I know it may be hard to believe but he’s honestly fine with it. I find it hard to get my head around too, but he genuinely is. He wants us to, in fact.” He sighed a little, fingertips running over Izzy’s hand. “Think he wants us to for both our sakes.”

“Knew he was a fucking weirdo,” Izzy said quietly, a slight smirk on his lips that had Ed laughing softly, mostly out of the pure joy of seeing Izzy smile. A breeze ran softly along the garden, sending a gentle shiver over Izzy. It may have been warm that day, but the nights still dropped cold. It was only May in Britain after all.

“Come and get into bed with us,” Ed found himself breathing before he could really think about it.

“What?” Izzy said with a half laugh, looking over to Ed. “Oh god, you’re serious.”

Ed took a breath, mustering the courage. “Yeah, I am. I’ll feel so much better knowing you’re right there. You won’t jump at every single noise in the house…”

“And Stede?” Izzy prompted when Ed hesitated.

“And Stede wants to comfort you just as much as I do.”

“Think sleeping in the same bed as you both isn’t probably what he had in mind.”

“How do you know?” Ed retorted quietly and there was something in his tone that had Izzy curious. Like Ed knew differently. Like Stede had indicated something else. That had Izzy’s own curiosity piqued in a way he didn’t quite understand. One thing he did know, when Stede had touched him earlier, placed that hand on his jaw, he had been ready to melt into whatever touch he was prepared to offer him, just like he was with Edward.

“Fine,” he found himself breathing, because he felt hurt enough and exposed enough to justify his weakness to himself right now.

They didn’t seem to need words after that. Ed stood, offering his hands, kicking away the cigarette stub into the nearest flowerbed as he did. Izzy couldn’t help the soft smirk that grazed his lips at Ed’s action, before placing his hands in Ed’s and allowing him to pull him carefully to his feet. He groaned in pain, taking a moment to catch his breath. Ed kept hold of one hand as he led him inside, closing the door behind them and making a point of locking it, making a point of Izzy seeing that he had locked it, in the hope it would help. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he moved to the front door and checked it was locked too, knowing Izzy’s eyes were on him the whole time. CJ knew where they lived. He could see why Izzy was jumpy at every noise.

Flicking off the downstairs lights, Ed took his hand again as he led him up the stairs, turning left at the top and leading Izzy to their bedroom. Stede was illuminated by the glow of his phone. He had heard voices from outside, though couldn’t make out what they were saying, but figured that meant Ed had found Izzy and he didn’t need to join the search. He looked up through the gloom as he saw the figure of Ed standing in the doorway.

“Okay, darling?” he asked softly. Ed didn’t speak, instead leading Izzy by the hand into the room. Stede felt his heart skipping in his chest, a silent ‘oh’ on his lips. That was a step. That was a very positive step. He put his phone back down on the bedside and reached down to the bottom of the bed where Marmalade was curled up, right in the middle. He carefully shifted her over. She didn’t seem fussed by the intrusion, instead moving to a gap beside Stede’s feet and curling up again slowly.

Ed took Izzy round to his side of the bed, pulling back the covers. It was a super king, because whilst both he and Stede were cuddlers, Stede had a tendency to starfish like crazy given half the chance, and it meant they had ample space when needed. Which meant fitting three in wouldn’t be much of an issue.

Izzy hesitated, stood next to the bed, glancing up at Ed and giving him the merest head-shake. Ed got it in an instant. Not in the middle. Understood. That was maybe a step too far for tonight, he could get that. So he pulled off the t-shirt he had thrown on to go in search of Izzy, and climbed in first, crawling into the middle and dropping a kiss to Stede’s cheek before laying back. Izzy seemed to take a moment to take a breath, trying to fill his lungs with confidence and push out the uncertainty, before he was climbing in too.

Ed turned on to his side to face Izzy, feeling Stede shift closer and press his chest to his back, planting reassuring kisses over his shoulder. He knew in that moment he had done the right thing, he had read Stede correctly. This was okay.

Instinct took over then, and muscle memory. Years of curling up against each other, falling asleep in each other’s arms. There was some wincing, and soft curses as Izzy tried to get comfy, tried to lay on his side without pressing on bruises. But then Ed’s arms were wrapping around him slowly, his lips brushing down his neck, a kiss placed on his temple, the uninjured one, and he went completely limp in his arms.

Ed felt the instant he relaxed, and thanked a God he didn’t believe in that he had got this right. For once. He then couldn’t help himself. He was pressing more kisses to his neck, his shoulders, nuzzling closer, arms encircling tight enough to protect but loose enough to not hurt. Stede tugged the covers back over them, reaching to tuck them slightly around the pair and himself, before curling up against Ed again.

Ed kept kissing at Izzy’s skin, anywhere he could reach, feeling his own eyes well up with tears for yet another time that day. And with a spark of joy, he felt Izzy press back in to him, almost cling on to him, face pressed to the crook of his neck, lips slightly parted, drinking in his scent. And, just for a second, the universe felt back in balance again.

Chapter Text

Fucking bright. That was Izzy’s first thought as he fluttered his eyes open slowly. Fucking warm. That was his second thought. He shifted a little and tried to kick at the covers to push them off himself, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. He was enveloped in this warmth. In strong arms. It wasn’t Jack. Jack didn’t cuddle him. What the fuck…?

He forced his eyes open further against the bright light and the banging his head. Jesus that hurt, like the worst hangover he had ever had. His eyes fell onto tanned skin and tattoos, and familiar strands of hair cascading over broad, muscular shoulders and… oh. It was ten years ago again, and Izzy had finally fucking lost it. Seemingly his comfort dreams, his comfort fantasies, had manifested themselves in full-on hallucinations. Just what he needed.

His head thumped a little harder as he tried to move. Why did that hurt so much? He raised his head and looked down at the pillow, frowning at the small staining of dried blood there. Wait. There was a reason his head was hurting so much. The injuries were real, just like they always were. But so were the arms around him. And the arms around him were /never/ real.

He tipped his head back to look up and his eyes fell on to Ed. He seemed to be half asleep, aware enough of Izzy moving in his arms that he had loosened his grip a bit and was giving him space, but asleep enough to then bury his face back in the pillow, his jaw slack, lips slightly parted. And all Izzy could think was ‘fuck me, he’s still as gorgeous as the day I met him’.

He tried not to let the thought linger as the entire thing came slamming back to him like a hurtling train. It wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t one of his daydream fantasies he let his brain slip in to for comfort. It wasn’t even a hallucination. It was real. Ed was really holding him. He really was in his bed. This was really happening.

Well shit. He’d fucked this one up.

He could remember feeling so weak, his need for comfort and love making him pliable to the insane fucking suggestion that he should sleep in with Ed and Stede. Stede hadn’t even commented as he walked into the room, hardly even reacted. He was so /fine/ with it, and Izzy just couldn’t get why. Because now he’d woken up with Ed wrapped around him, rather than him being wrapped around Stede, and he was pretty sure he had fallen asleep to Ed’s lips pressed to his skin. Fuck. This couldn’t be happening.

He tried to move from his arms, sit up, but the almost shout of pain had Ed’s eyes flying open in an instant, immediately awake and so aware of his surroundings. “Iz?” He looked down to him, moving to rest a hand on his stomach to try and still him, settle him. “Careful, careful. Just breathe. No sudden movements. You’ve slept curled up, you’re going to be stiff.”

Izzy cursed under his breath again and raised his gaze to Ed. “I stayed all night, I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

Ed’s expression turned confused, maybe sad, frown lines creasing across his forehead. “What… what else were you going to do?” he asked quietly.

Still slightly sleepy, and maybe a little bit hazy from the bang on the head, Izzy found himself being honest in his response. “Thought I’d slip back out after a while, go back to the guest bed.” He had even thought then that he had a plan to leave first thing, before either of them woke up. He didn’t know if that part he would have followed through with though. Turns out he didn’t follow through with any of it.

“Why?” Ed breathed, though he knew the answer already. And because he did, because they both knew he did, Izzy remained silent. “I need you here, Iz. Please.” He placed a gentle hand on his jaw, thumb caressing slowly over his bottom lip, mindful of where it was split, stopping just short of the injury before moving back again. “Let yourself need it too.”

Izzy swallowed hard against his dry throat, eyes wide and staring up at Ed like he couldn’t believe he was there in front of him, doing that. Maybe he couldn’t. Maybe because Ed only did that in his dreams, in his comfort fantasies, in the little wanderings his mind did to try and calm him in the hardest moments.

Izzy could hear Stede coming up the stairs, could hear he was carrying a tray with what sounded like coffee mugs on. Izzy had learned very fast to have sharp hearing when Jack was around. He could hear Marmalade’s collar jingly softly, slowly getting closer, as she followed Stede up the stairs. He kept his eyes wide on Ed, breathing hitching slightly at the touch.

“Don’t let him see,” Izzy breathed, his voice a whisper. “Let go…”

Ed’s hand didn’t move. He kept caressing his thumb back and forth over his lip, the other arm that was under Izzy bending and his hand moving to caress up and down his spine, feather-light and gentle. Ed knew Izzy’s tone. If he had thought for a second he was asking him to let go because he didn’t like it, because he didn’t want to be touched, his hands would’ve fallen from him faster than Izzy could’ve uttered the words. But that wasn’t it, that wasn’t why he was saying it. So he didn’t let go.

“No…” he whispered in return. He needed Izzy to realise he wasn’t ashamed, and he wasn’t afraid, and that this was okay. It was all okay.

As Stede stepped in to the room, he leant down to drop a kiss to Izzy’s forehead. The man in his arms tensed, but didn’t squirm away. He was laying with his back to the door, so couldn’t see Stede’s reaction, but he could hear.

There was a gentle sigh. It wasn’t exasperated, or angry, or in any way negative, Izzy could /hear/ that. “Good morning,” Stede murmured softly, moving around to the other side of the bed. As he came into Izzy’s line of sight, he gave him a soft smile, placing the tray he was holding down on the bedside. Ed hadn’t moved his eyes from Izzy, and he raised an eyebrow, almost like he was daring him to argue more that Stede wasn’t cool with it. Izzy wanted to argue, he really did, but the way Stede was taking this all in his stride was undeniable.

Izzy shifted a little in Ed’s arms again, from pain discomfort more than anything. “Let’s get you sat up,” Ed murmured softly, dropping another kiss to his forehead that had Izzy’s already fuzzy brain spinning further. It was so lovely. It was just… so alien now. Not just from Ed, from anyone. Ed pulled the arm out carefully from underneath him, stacking some pillows above him before holding out his hand. “This is gonna hurt, Iz,” he warned softly.

“No shit,” Izzy bit back, but it didn’t hold any real heat. He placed both his hands across Ed’s forearm, allowing Ed to pull him up as he took the strain into his arms. He could feel Stede’s worried eyes on him as he let out a groan of pain, getting up into a sitting position and flopping back against the pillows. He felt the sheets pull around him as Marmalade padded over. She was usually unsure of him, but then she was wary of anyone who wasn’t Stede or Ed. The fact Izzy was in her human’s bed seemed to fill her with a little more confidence, and she was wandering up to him, giving him a gentle sniff, nose bumping his arm. Satisfied he smelt enough of her humans for it to be acceptable, she walked right over him and sat herself in the middle of the bed, taking a moment to observe the scene.

Stede chuckled, lifting a mug from the tray and passing it to Ed. “I think that’s a win, don’t you?”

Ed grinned and nodded, taking the mug from Stede. “Yeah babe, think it is.”

Stede climbed back into the bed, leaning back against the headboard and passed Ed another mug. “That’s Izzy’s.” Ed handed it along, holding it out to Izzy and breaking him from the half trance he had been lulled in to as he watched the sickeningly domestic scene. It was all just so fucking perfect. The sunlight streaming in to the room, dancing across the silver-grey carpet, capturing the red of the curtains and casting red-hue reflections over the room. The cat sat purring beside him. The scent of steaming coffee against his nostrils. Ed and Stede’s gentle touch.

Izzy didn’t belong here.

He reached out for the mug, unsure what else he could do, even if he didn’t belong in this idiotic domestic bliss. His hand was shaking. Why the hell was his hand shaking? It didn’t go unnoticed. Ed didn’t let go of the mug as Izzy tried to curl his fingers around it. “What is it?” he asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Izzy replied honestly. He glared at his hand for a moment like it was a separate entity he had no control over. That’s exactly what it felt like. He then raised the other, held it between them, and watched it tremor too. He kept his frustration silent as he dropped his hands to his lap. His hands didn’t shake every time CJ came at him, fists raised. His hands didn’t shake every time he heard the key turn in the lock in the middle of the night. His hands didn’t shake when he stood in front of the tiny, cracked bathroom mirror, wiping the blood off himself yet again. But they were now, sat in the relative safety of Stede and Ed’s house, their /bed/. Now his hands shook.

He’d just woken up, in Ed’s arms, where he had slept, being held and protected and taken care of. He should have been in bliss. He should have been well rested and satiated from all the love and affection, more than he had got in over a year. He should be /grateful/. This was more than enough for him now. The memory of Ed’s arms around him and lips on his skin should be more than enough to see him through for the rest of the fucking year. He could hold on to the memories, the feeling, allow it to settle in his brain and replay over and over like his favourite film. That could serve as a source of comfort for him for months now, he wouldn’t even have to make anything up to help himself drift off to sleep.

All of that should have been enough, but it wasn’t.

Maybe that’s why his hands shook. He wanted more.

Izzy could feel Stede’s eyes on him as well as Ed’s, and he dared to sneak a glance sideways to him, watched as his eyes ran over Izzy, seemingly reading every inch and line of his expression. Ed may know him better than anyone else on the earth, but Stede seemed to be able to read him like a well-used book. He seemed to be able to step inside his brain and start picking through all the messed-up thoughts and jumbled streams of consciousness. Izzy was sure as shit that he could tell what he was thinking, and it unnerved him.

He took the coffee from Ed’s hand, cupping the mug in both of his hands to work against the shaking. He took a couple of sips. It was good, of course it was. Ed and Stede would only have the best quality coffee. Izzy had always drank it black, no sugar, and of course that was always best with the nicest coffee in the world, the coffee they had at the bar and seemingly the coffee they kept in their home too.

For fear of spilling it over their beautiful red and gold embroidered bedding and white sheets, he carefully placed it back on the bedside table. As he did, he was reminded that was where his phone had been placed the previous day by Stede, and he couldn’t stop his expression contorting into worry and curiosity. He made a quick mental bet with himself as to the number of missed calls and texts. A fuck tonne, was his bet. Then, with his shaking hand, he reached out to lift it from the table and tap the screen.

He had won the bet, of course.

Seventeen missed calls, thirty-six texts. Thirty-six. That was even more than he imagined. He knew Ed could see the screen over his shoulder as he typed in his passcode, knew that Ed had just watched him type their wedding anniversary in, and tried not to let his brain settle on that. So he kept the same passcode on every phone, and that hadn’t changed in… no, who was he kidding. When they got married phones didn’t have fucking passcodes. There was no brushing that off, but Ed didn’t comment. He then began scrolling through the texts. His already worried expression began to knit into a frown. CJ had used every word under the sun to describe Izzy, and what he was going to do to him when he found him. He had got to about the twentieth text when he felt Ed reach past him, gently take the phone from his hand.

“That’s enough of that shit,” he muttered, locking it again and silently passing it to Stede, who placed it on the other bedside table next to him.

Izzy watched him closely, finding himself blinking at Ed slowly to comprehend what he had done. He needed to get up and /move/. Every single muscle in his body ached, and those were just the ones that hadn’t been touched. He had (what he suspected was) an insane need to go and stare at his reflection for a while, the bruises, the cuts, and compound it all in his head. He also had (a significantly less insane) need to give Ed and Stede some space. He'd just spent the night in their bed. They hadn't kissed good morning like he imagined they did every morning. They didn't wake up in each other's arms. And it was Saturday, and Ed wasn't due at the bar until 4pm, so unless he was breaking the habit of a significant portion of his lifetime, he imagined Ed had had further plans for he and Stede that morning that involved a lot more than kissing.

Lazy Saturday morning sex has always been a thing, /their/ thing. They always worked Saturday night, together. They liked taking the busier shifts. It meant they could also give the rest of the team rotating Saturday nights off. It lessened the complaints about the rota significantly. So Saturday mornings were theirs. And it would always be the same. Izzy would get up before Ed (always. Every damn day he'd get up before Ed. Ed was /not/ a morning person) and go for a run. By the time he'd get back, Ed was usually just coming into the land of the living again. Enough, at least, to register his husband was about to be very naked in the shower in the next room.

Not that Izzy could complain. In fact, he loved it. He loved the anticipation. Was Ed going to appear in the shower with him, press him against the cold tiles, until they ran out of hot water? Or was he going to suddenly step up behind him, catch his reflection in the mirror above the sink as Izzy wiped it clear of condensation, wind his arms around his waist and whisper absolute filth into his ear? Or was he going to wait until Izzy came back into the bedroom again, purposefully choosing to cover up with absolutely /nothing/, and grab at him, drag him back into bed on top of him and keep him there for the next two hours until he really needed another shower?

Fucking hell that was not where his consciousness needed to slip to at that moment. Izzy cleared his throat and dragged himself to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over and stretching out his back with a grunt of pain. He wasn't a young many anymore, and he felt that certainly weighing in to how utterly wrecked he felt.

"Careful..." came a voice from behind him and Izzy was temporarily shocked that it /wasn't/ Ed but Stede that had breathed the unnecessary warning. He chose not to bite back and placed his feet on the plush carpet, pushing himself up slowly. Yep. That felt horrendous. He caught his balance, hand resting on his side like it would fucking help to try and brace himself. Without another word to either of them he took himself out of the room, moving painfully slowly.

Ed watched him go before running his hand over his face and flopping back against the pillows, holding his mug up a little to avoid spilling it. “Fuck, I don’t think I handled that well,” he groaned.

Stede sighed softly, leaning in to his side to kiss his cheek. “Handled what?”

Ed glanced to him before looking down into his cup of coffee. “He wanted me to let go of him before you walked in so you didn’t see,” he said quietly. “I said no. And I shouldn’t have just taken his phone off him like that.”

Stede placed his mug on the side so he could turn and face Ed properly, taking his free hand and lacing their fingers together. “I’m glad you didn’t stop. He needs to understand it’s okay, I want him to understand that. I feel the only way he will get that is if we show him, yes?” Ed nodded slowly keeping his eyes down. “And as for his phone, if you hadn’t have done that, I would’ve.” His tone had shifted then, to harsher and colder. “He doesn’t need to see any of that. It’s our job to protect him from that now.” He paused for a moment. “All of us…”

Ed glanced up, a frown on his face. “What do you mean, all of us?” he asked quietly.

Stede looked a little sheepish, and then it was his turn to look away and direct his focus to his coffee mug. “I may have spoken to Jim and Olu this morning…” he answered quietly.

Ed’s eyes widened a little, though he didn’t quite blow up how Stede imagined he might. Instead, he opted to take a sip of his coffee before looking back to Stede. “You told two police officers?”

Stede made a face. “I mean technically, they’re not regular police officers, being in the fraud department…”

“One of them is in the fraud department, Stede. The other is a fucking weapons specialist.”

Stede shrugged a little. “Yes, so not regular police.”

Ed shook his head, giving up on arguing. “What were they going to do?”

“Nothing, for now,” Stede assured him quietly. “I asked them not to. Other than keep an eye on things.”

Ed rolled his eyes, glancing to the door that Izzy had just made his retreat out of. “Speaking of…” he sighed before placing his mug down once more and sliding out of bed to follow.

Chapter Text

Ed found Izzy in the kitchen, shaking hand holding a glass under the water dispenser in their large fridge that was practically twice Izzy’s height. He looked around when he heard Ed’s bare feet on the tiles, raising the glass to his lips to take a drink before leaning back on the counter and placing the glass next to him. The silence hung around them for a moment, and neither moved or spoke. Until Izzy narrowed his eyes at Ed. “What?”

Ed raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “What do you mean, ‘what’?”

Izzy just rolled his eyes and turned his head so he no longer had to look, no longer had to meet his eyes. Ed internally winced as he scanned Izzy’s face. “Your temple bled again. Let me clean it up…”

“No.”

Ed found himself completely stilling at Izzy’s reaction, the harsh and distant tone. “Let’s not do this, Iz, please,” he found himself saying quietly. “Don’t shut me out now. Don’t start panicking about Stede and shutting me out.”

Izzy was quick to meet his eyes then, and he just stared at Ed, expressionless for a moment. “Why did he say that shit yesterday?” he eventually muttered, gaze dropping to the floor.

Ed took a step closer, arms dropping to his sides now Izzy wasn’t being so confrontational. “What shit?” he asked in return.

“That I hadn’t been touched in a kind way.” The voice was hardly above a whisper now, so much so that Ed had to take another step towards him, closing the distance enough that he could reach out and touch Izzy if he wanted. If Izzy wanted. But he didn’t yet.

“Well, because it’s true, mate. He could see it was true. You know Stede. He’s really… in tune with these kinds of things.” He paused for a moment to let Izzy speak, anticipating a river of profanities to hit his ears. When nothing came, he somehow found the confidence to push. This maybe wasn’t the place, stood on the cold kitchen floor, Izzy painfully leaning back against the worktops, but what if this was his only chance? “How long has it been?”

The fake, sad, angry smile that flashed across Izzy’s lips had Ed’s stomach tighten into a knot, and he found himself having to exhale slowly to keep calm. “Ask what you really mean, Edward.” Izzy’s tone was dangerous, challenging, but Ed had started this now and he wasn’t going to be put off.

“You started seeing him just after Christmas last year. That’s almost eighteen months. Has he been doing this the whole time?” It was surprising Ed that Izzy was keeping eye contact, keeping his gaze steady. Surprising and unnerving. Izzy seemed to be dangerously calm.

“March 21st, he first hit me.” The sentence came out so matter of fact and so precise, it caught Ed off guard. It took a minute for his brain to catch up.

“How do you…” Then he trailed off. Of course he’d remember. That was a stupid question.

“How do I remember what date? Because it was Frenchie’s birthday, and we had the lock-in at the bar, and you and I were dancing to our first dance song because we thought it was hilarious.” His tone was level, flat, like he was reeling off the most boring facts in the world. “He hated that. Argument started in the cab home. Didn’t stop for hours. He slapped me across the face. Seemed like nothing really, and he apologised over and over. Didn’t actually think much of it, if I’m completely honest. Then it didn’t stop.”

Ed just stared back him, slowly processing his words. It had been over a year, and he hadn’t noticed. He’d noticed Izzy withdrawing, Stede had noticed Izzy withdrawing. He had a horrible feeling Stede noticed a lot more than he did. Izzy’s expression was challenging Ed to keep going, so he did. “Were you telling the truth when you said this is the worst it’s been?”

Izzy rolled his eyes at that. “I’ve been good at hiding it, Ed, but I’m not that good. Yes, I was telling the truth. Worst before was when he gave me that black eye that I told you came from tripping in the gym and falling in to a metal frame.”

Ed felt a rush of anger and then total idiocy. If he had taken more than thirty seconds to think about it, he would’ve known that story was bullshit. Izzy’s expression was so stoic and so cold, Ed just couldn’t help himself. He had to keep going. “So answer my first question, then.” His voice dropped lower and he took a half step forward, though still didn’t touch him. “How long has it been?”

Only then did Izzy avert his gaze, down to the floor, his tense body hunching a little. “Hadn’t been with anyone before CJ for about six months. Before then it was just…” He shook his head, a half-smile, half-grimace running over his face. “Last person before that it was just sex. Jack hasn’t touched me once other than to hurt me since that very first time he hit me. There’s at least two other people he’s fucking, I think.” He shrugged, then raised his gaze up to look at Ed again, finally. “So if you don’t count the, what, twice Jack was kind of affectionate to me at the beginning, probably about two years.”

Ed swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and without much further thought he was crowding Izzy against the worktop, mindful to not press on any bruises, or even press in to him at all, and a warm, gentle hand was landing on Izzy’s jaw, thumb pressing to his bottom lip for a moment. Then Ed was leaning in, tilting his head, their noses brushing ever so slightly for a second before he connected their lips, light pressure, no pressing, mindful of how sore the split on Izzy’s lip looked.

Izzy’s eyes dropped closed instantly, he just couldn’t fight it, and he really didn’t want to. Four and a half years since their lips had met. In that moment nothing had changed. Izzy still felt everything he had felt before. The way the warmth, the colours, swirled up around him. Edward was maroon and gold, silk and velvet, enveloping him in the soft caress of fabric. The one hand was still gently cradling his jaw, whilst the other had fallen to rest on his side, just where his t-shirt sat on the waistband of his trousers, and his thumb was slipping into the gap, against the tiny slither of skin, and was caressing over and over in gentle motions.

Shit, he had forgotten how fucking intoxicating Edward was. He’d forgotten how this was all he had ever wanted, all he had ever needed. He’d forgotten exactly what he’d given up, what he had to walk away from. He’d forgotten how hard that was.

Until suddenly it was all his again, just for that moment.

He’d started to try and tell himself that he didn’t need it like everyone else did – the gentle contact, the kind touch, the loving caresses. He never used to think like that, before. Much to many people’s surprise, he was actually quite a physically affectionate person once he got to know someone, once he trusted them. In fact, he was tactile. Leaning into someone’s side as they looked over the same laptop screen, or resting his foot on someone else’s just under the table. Sometimes, occasionally, he used to seek Fang out just for a hug. He’d even, one sunny afternoon in Stede and Ed’s garden, leant back to back against Stede whilst they read.

It was like CJ had switched off that part of his brain, made him bury it, tuck it away, hide it so it wouldn’t get destroyed.

Stood in that moment, Izzy struggled to remember the last time he had been touched in such a way. Before Jack there had been someone, briefly, just a couple of months, but he was being truthful when he said to Ed it was just sex. Sure, they’d lay there for a while after, catching their breaths, laid pressing hot skin to hot skin, limbs entangled. But that was what you did. It wasn’t exactly meaningful. Then before that there was that one night with Lucius, before he and Pete were married. Lucius had Pete’s full permission, of course, a concept Izzy just couldn’t get his head around. That was why it was only one night. That, and the kid made Izzy feel twice the age he actually was. The sex was mind blowing, the cuddling afterwards was great. The morning after was even better. But Lucius’s heart belonged to Pete, and Izzy couldn’t see himself falling for him anyway. He valued his stupid friendship too much for that.

Before that? God knows. String of bad decisions, one-night stands, purposefully pushing people away to see if they’d come back. Snatches of affection here and there, in quiet, isolated moments. Brushing of lips, caressing of skin. Very occasionally Izzy would let go, allow himself to be completely cradled in someone’s arms, like Ed used to do for him. But people didn’t want that from him, didn’t see him that way. His surface level rough, gruff, tough personality leant itself to people thinking he was the strong one, the controller, the one to do the holding. No one ever asked him if he wanted to be held.

Ed knew. Ed knew the real him, the him that would happily curl up against him for hours under soft blankets and gentle lights. He knew how he could run his fingers through his hair in just a way to make him melt. He knew the way to draw patterns over his back, down his inner arm and wrist, that would send tingles down his spine. They fit perfectly together like a jigsaw. No one had ever held him, known him, had him, quite like Ed had.

That was such a long time ago now. He hadn’t had that in so long. And right now… fuck, right now he had it.

Then he came to his senses. Then reality slammed in to him like a run-away train. All it took was for him to carefully drag his lips against Ed’s, one sweet, torturous movement, before he caught himself. His hands found Ed’s chest, by some miracle, and he was pressing, pushing him back with what little strength he had in him, enough to make Ed break the kiss and look down at him with such an array of emotions in his expression that Izzy felt he needed five years to work them all out.

“Stede…”

Just that one syllable. That was all Izzy needed to say. Because what the fuck was Ed thinking? Kissing his ex-husband in the corner of his kitchen whilst his current partner laid in bed upstairs? After taking him to their bed, holding him in his arms, caressing and cuddling and comforting. What the fuck was he thinking?

Ed shook his head slowly. His hand hadn’t left Izzy’s jaw, hadn’t even left his side, thumb still lightly pressing into the pale, bruised skin. “It’s complicated, mate, but it’s okay.”

“How the fuck can you know that, Ed?” Izzy breathed, his voice shaking against the combined effort of the exhaustion of standing and the attempt to hold himself back from pouncing on Ed’s mouth again without a second thought.

“If you’ve ever trusted me, Iz, trust me now.”

How could he even question that? Of course Izzy trusted him, that had never wavered, not once. Despite the arguments and the fights, the tears and the screaming, Ed had never given him a reason to not trust him.

Izzy didn’t trust himself, that was the issue.

“Where does it end, Ed? We kiss, then what? We’ve got history… too much history. Stede doesn’t deserve to see all of that again in reverse.”

“Isn’t that my choice to make?”

Izzy jolted so hard, his muscles tensed so quickly, that he couldn’t help the soft yelp of pain that left his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle it further as Ed’s hands slowly dropped from him and he turned back to see Stede in the doorway, leant against the doorframe, watching them both.

Izzy felt his fight or flight kick in. He knew Stede, he knew Stede well. He liked him, he respected him. And before, when he’d stepped up to him and could’ve reasonably delivered a blow right to Izzy’s face, instead he chose to gently, carefully, like he was porcelain, place a warm, soft hand on his jaw and comfort him. Deep down he knew Stede wouldn’t hurt him, didn’t even have it in him. But people acted stupidly when they were jealous. He had learnt that the hard way, that was what had bought him here for fuck sake.

“Stede I’m…” Izzy’s fists clenched slowly in anticipation, in case he needed to fight back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… it was my fault. Don’t blame Ed.” His eyes darted around the room for a moment. Ed had moved to the side enough for him to make an exit. He didn’t know how fast he could be, but he could try his best.

“I’m not blaming anyone, because there’s nothing to blame, Izzy,” Stede said softly, taking a step forward and then stopping himself. He let his eyes run over Izzy and made the decision then to not move any closer unless Izzy explicitly invited him to. He noticed the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his darting eyes, his clenched fists. Izzy was preparing to fight his way out, and Stede didn’t want to provoke that further. “I’m also not going to hurt you.”

The glare Izzy fixed Stede with told him maybe that wasn’t the right choice, the right path. And then the flicker of disbelief that followed made Stede ache harder than he had since Izzy had set foot in their house the previous day. He didn’t even know that was possible, given what he had witnessed.

He kept his hands visible, and open, consciously relaxing his body language. His glanced to Ed, who had cottoned on to Stede’s moves and had stepped sideways to give Izzy some more space. “Ed’s right, Izzy, you can trust him on this. I can promise you, we’ve talked. We’ve discussed this. But Izzy…” Clearly the shift in his tone had done something. Izzy leant back against the worktop again, one hand falling against the surface a little harder than maybe he intended as he felt his knees go weak again.

Stede hazed out of focus for him for a second as the initial adrenaline rush wore off and the fatigue and concussion swam in. Stede was moving towards him, slowly and carefully, writing off his rule of express permission upon seeing how Izzy was struggling to stay upright.

Ed moved back to his side, an arm winding around his middle slowly to take his weight, pulling him in to his side. He didn’t speak, waiting in anticipation for Stede to finish his sentence.

“Izzy, I want to hold you just as much as Ed does right now.”

Chapter Text

Ed was touching him. Stede was within touching distance. Izzy was enveloped in this heat, in this circle of worry and meaningful looks and… fucking care. In the end, he knew his reaction was inevitable. He had to know no harm would come of him like this, and part of him wondered even if it did, would he care? Possibly not now. The universe had done it’s worst, Jack had done his worst, what else was there now?

Izzy’s head dropped forward and landed square on Stede’s warm chest, the soft fabric pressing gently to his skin. Another arm joined Ed’s around him, a hand sliding to the back of his neck, fingertips caressing and gently pulling at the hair at his nape, grounding him. “Let’s get you back to bed, Izzy,” Stede said softly.

He wasn’t sure what was said, but there were soft murmurings between Stede and Ed. Stede had stepped back then, moving away to allow Ed to guide Izzy forward. Progress of one foot in front of the other was slow, and it gave Izzy enough time and awareness that Stede was quickly putting down Marmalade’s food, then refilling the kettle and pulling a hot water bottle from a bottom drawer.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Izzy heard him murmur, and clearly another look was exchanged that had Ed nodding as he led Izzy into the hallway towards the staircase.

“Just take it slow, Iz. Think your head is worse than you thought it was.” Izzy couldn’t argue, for once. It didn’t feel great. It took all his concentration to climb the staircase, which he was sure was twice as long as any other bloody staircase. Despite everything, he was still surprised when Ed steered him left not right at the top, towards their bedroom and not the guest room.

Given how long the movement had taken them, Stede wasn’t kidding when he said he was right behind them. He entered the room seconds after them, and immediately set to work. He changed the angle of the blinds so a small amount of natural light filtered in, but it was dim and not harsh. He moved to his reading nook in the corner, under a large velux window, and fumbled with a few candles before making a small ‘ah-ha’ noise and lighting his selection. A scent reached Izzy that was immediately so familiar and so calming. He had no clue why it was so familiar, but it was nice to feel wrapped up in it. Stede then disappeared into the attached walk-in wardrobe (in fact one of two walk in wardrobes he had. The man had an obscene amount of clothes, in Izzy’s opinion) and bought out a blanket.

“Ed, darling, help Izzy get comfy. In the middle.” The second part of his sentence was pointed, and it had a shoot of… the unfamiliar run through Izzy. His stomach flipped in an unrecognisable way. It wasn’t through anxiety, or worry, but something else. Something new.

Ed was guiding him to the bed then, pushing aside the messy covers. “You comfy in those clothes, Iz?” Izzy found himself shaking his head. The t-shirt was lovely and soft, but even that felt scratchy against his sore skin and bruises. And it didn’t smell of Ed anymore, it just smelt of him now. Wordlessly, Ed carefully pulled it off him, throwing it absentmindedly somewhat in the direction of the laundry basket. A later problem.

“Sit for me,” Ed asked gently and helped Izzy lower himself onto the edge of the bed. Izzy then crawled across the mattress to the middle, noises of discomfort being drawn from his lips as he did so. He flopped in what he was pretty sure was kind of the middle and rested his head back against a plush pillow.

Stede brushed past Ed, leaving a kiss on his cheek that drew a smile as he pulled off his own t-shirt. Ed let his eyes roam for a second, watching him kneel up on the bed. Izzy had his eyes on Ed, watching the way his gaze ran over Stede’s bare chest, his eyes a mix of adoration and a slight tinge of attraction. When his gaze dropped to Izzy, with a tightening of his chest, he noticed Ed’s expression didn’t change.

“Have you ever tried a weighted blanket before?” Stede asked him softly. Izzy was drawn out of his haze, looking up at him and shaking his head slowly. “I think you should give it a go.”

“Won’t that be too much pressure on the bruises?” Ed was clambering on the bed the other side of Izzy, eyeing the blanket Stede had folded in front of him, encompassed in a soft, fluffy grey cover.

“This is the light one, darling. The one you like to have on your feet. It won’t hurt.” Stede gently placed his warm hand on Izzy’s arm. “May I?”

Izzy turned his head back to look at Stede, blinking at him slowly. He was trying his best to process everything around him but it was like his brain was running through thick treacle. He just nodded slowly in response, exhaling slowly as Stede lay the blanket over him.

The pressure was… pleasant, initially. Izzy shifted underneath it, trying to get a feel for his movement. Stede had stood again and was busying himself around the room with things Izzy really didn’t have the brain power to keep up with in that moment. But Ed was right at his side, and watching his expression closely. Which was why he noticed the slight frown settling on Izzy’s face.

“Don’t like it?” he asked quietly.

“Dunno… it isn’t too heavy but…” He was struggling to sit up anyway, with the pain. An extra barrier to that had his brain jumping to stupid conclusions before he had even asked the questions. “Feel pinned.”

Ed’s eyes widened a little and he was immediately reaching to pull the blanket off Izzy, a reassuring hand landing on his shoulder and squeezing gently. It was almost like Ed had had a more visceral reaction to it than Izzy himself, though now he thought about it, the anxiety had settled in the pit of his stomach again. “Okay so that’s a no to that today,” Ed mumbled, folding the blanket neatly at the end of the bed. “If you liked the concept, though, you can give it a go another time?”

Izzy just gave a non-committal shrug. He wasn’t exactly going to buy himself one on a whim, so he didn’t know what other opportunity he was going to get, didn’t exactly know what Ed was referring to. There wouldn’t be another time? Unless, of course, Ed was suggesting another time in their house, in their bed, like Izzy was welcome to stay beyond these few desperate, necessary days…

He was draw from his spiral by Stede climbing back on the bed again then, clutching a few items. He didn’t comment on the blanket, and Izzy assumed he had heard the exchange. He’d brought another, the same soft and plush material that the weighted blanket cover was made from, but this time just a normal blanket. He laid it over Izzy and then gently placed the hot water bottle on top in the middle of his chest. The groan of satisfaction that left Izzy’s lips was the first one that wasn’t from pain that Ed had heard, and it had him smiling, sliding down to lay right next to Izzy, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Nice?” he chuckled softly.

Izzy nodded a little. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he felt this warm, both inside and out. Weirdly, he always ran cold at night. Ed always ran hot. Izzy would be more than happy to curl up against him, like his own personal giant hot water bottle. Jack didn’t touch him laid in bed. About the only time he didn’t…

Izzy’s eyes were back on Stede again, watching with total curiosity as he moved to tuck the blanket more around Izzy, cocooning him in to it. He’d brought the candle that he’d lit to the bedside, the flame dancing gently and reflecting off the inside of the glass container. Stede placed some more painkillers in Izzy’s hand wordlessly, holding to his lips a bottle of water with a rainbow metal straw poking out the top. Izzy declined to comment, and instead threw back the pills and took a couple of sips of water to swallow them both with.

When Ed’s fingertips landed on Izzy’s inner arm, he jolted and quickly turned his head. “Sorry, mate,” Ed breathed, raising his hand from his skin again.

Izzy shook his head quickly. “No… it’s fine. I just… I never let him touch me there. I… I’d forgotten what it was like.”

Ed raised an eyebrow. “Why?” he asked gently, though shit, he thought he probably knew.

“That’s where you touch me,” Izzy whispered, knowing there was probably a blush blooming on his cheeks. That was his grounding place. Ed would caress up and down his inner arm, over his wrist, thumb pushing down to the small spade tattoo on the back of his hand, then back up again to repeat over and over. Always with exactly the right pressure, exactly the right pace. Always exactly what Izzy needed.

That was sacred ground, and there was no way in hell Izzy was going to let Jack touch him there. Not when he could still feel Ed’s fingertips on his skin from years past, if he tried really hard.

“Can I…?” Ed breathed and was met with a quick nod. Of course. Of course he could. Izzy wouldn’t be above begging for that again, he was pretty sure.

Stede shifted to lay down on his side, facing Izzy. He just couldn’t help the frown of concern that had settled on his face as he watched Izzy. He’d gone still between them, laid mostly on his back but tilted more towards Ed. His eyes were fixed on to Ed, and Stede was sure in the low light he could see the reflection of the glassiness that sat in them. And if that wasn’t enough to have Stede’s heartrate elevating, his entire body wrapped in a tension he hardly recognised, an ache unfamiliar, there was Ed’s expression.

He had a sad half-smile drawn across his lips that Stede was sure was an attempt to reassure Izzy. He didn’t falter in keeping his eyes locked with Izzy, though, like he wouldn’t let himself for the rest of time and Stede wouldn’t let him either. Stede had a growing, surprisingly warm feeling, that Ed would make sure they would never have to leave each other’s sides again. And he would be right there with them.

Ed shifted closer, pressing his forehead to Izzy’s gently as his fingertips began their descent down the soft, pale skin of his inner arm. Stede could visibly see the shudder run down Izzy’s spine at the touch. Neither of them hardly even blinked as Ed completed one circuit of Izzy’s arm, and begun the second. The shaking exhale from Izzy had Stede shifting closer instinctively, but he held himself back and didn’t touch, no matter how much he wanted to. Ed’s eyes flickered to him, just for a second, before locking back with Izzy’s.

“Iz, can Stede…?” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Izzy could feel his warmth behind him, feel his presence. Izzy was nodding his head and turning more onto his side to face Ed. Ed took his hand and gently laid his arm between them and up against his chest so he could continue running his fingers over him.

Stede slotted himself perfectly against Izzy’s back, moulding himself against the curve of his body. He slowly slid an arm under Izzy’s head, careful to not knock any cuts or bruises, winding the other around Izzy’s middle and settling his hand over the top of the hot water bottle to keep it pressed to his body.
Ed had slid closer to tangle their legs at the same time, and tipped his head up to brush his lips across Izzy’s cheek. Nothing could have prepared Stede for the noise that slipped from Izzy’s lips as their bodies settled together.

The whimper that escaped from him, desperate, needy and so lonely, gave Stede the feeling of a punch to the chest. He buried his face against the back of Izzy’s neck, the arm laid under his head bending back to bury his hand in his greying hair, caressing gently.

“We’ve got you, baby,” Ed whispered, and Stede couldn’t remember ever hearing Ed use the word ‘baby’ before. It wasn’t a difficult leap to realise that word was reserved exclusively for Izzy, and he was filled with relief that Ed was comfortable enough to revive it for him now. He needed the familiarity. He needed the promise.

Stede rearranged the blankets around them so that the hot water bottle stayed against Izzy’s body, the way Ed was pressing against him helping to encompass the warmth. With their hot skin pressed against each other, Stede was pretty sure he could have laid there like that forever.

Izzy wished, to any stupid fucking deity out there that he had gone back and forth for decades about his beliefs on, that he could stay there forever. The front of Ed’s hair was tied back, but soft strands still fell forward and brushed over Izzy’s skin. His lips, so soft and so familiar, grazed down his neck again. His fingertips were still caressing his arm, and the other hand was splayed out and pressed to his hip, half over one of the bruises. And Stede, warm and soft body pressed against him, nimble fingers carding through his hair, gentle hot breath on his neck.

Despite the screaming inside his head, despite the fact he felt like the bottom of his world was going to fall out from under him at any moment, Izzy wanted to make a choice. A difficult choice. A delicate choice. A choice based off the trust he had in Ed, and always had, and the trust that he had gained in Stede in the last twenty-four hours, which somehow felt as whole and as grounded as anything else in his entire life.

He wanted to trust they would stay there, laid with him, holding him, for as long as he wanted them to. Needed them to.

And god, did he need them to.

But he didn’t know how.

Once again, Stede was inside his fucking head, poking around in there, moving his thoughts around, making space, making room. “Stay here as long as you want, Izzy. Ask for anything you need, anytime.”

Ed nodded in response, to agree. “Only time we’ll move is for food, water, and if one of us needs to piss.” Three hearts collectively warmed at the small chuckle that came from Izzy. Ed pressed another kiss to Izzy’s hair. “Do you need anything else right now?”

Izzy eyes slowly moved to gaze up at Ed again. His brain still felt slow, sluggish, encompassed in haze and uncertainty. His eyes reflected every inch of his fear, his worry, but Ed held on to the tiny glimmer of hopefulness that sat there. “What if I wanted you to kiss me again?”

Chapter Text

Ed tried not to let his gaze falter too noticeably. He was well aware he was holding Izzy’s trust, Izzy’s fucking soul, in the palm of his hand and he could be inches from crushing it with one wrong move. He sat in a strange space, a middle space, a space he didn’t know if he’d ever occupy again. A space where he wanted to give Izzy anything he wanted, anything he needed, bend to his every whim, whilst still very aware he wanted to do all those things for Stede too. He had felt like that before, at the very beginning, when Izzy had first come back and had looked so tired, so lost.

Ed couldn’t articulate to Izzy at the time he hadn’t replaced him. He didn’t mean to fall for Stede. He didn’t mean to let Izzy run away. He didn’t really mean any of it. But it had happened, and even if maybe he had gone about it the wrong way, he couldn’t change it.

But he could make it better now.

His eyes darted up to Stede, but he was surprised to find Stede wasn’t looking back at him. Instead, Stede had pressed his face in the crook of Izzy’s neck, the hand that was buried in Izzy’s hair caressing his scalp. His eyes met Ed’s for the briefest of moments, a slight blush across his cheeks when he realised he’d been caught. Caught in the moment of drinking Izzy in, and showering him with affection he didn’t know he was capable of towards Izzy when he had Ed. And then, as if to orchestrate a point to Ed without words, he pressed his lips to Izzy’s neck, eliciting another soft groan from the mouth of the man laid between them.

Ed didn’t need more than that. He was tilting his head then, and with hardly any distance to close, their lips were touching in seconds. He knew what Izzy needed. He knew how to kiss him. It wasn’t a grand gesture, it didn’t need to be deep and longing. But it did need to be grounding, and promising, and /familiar/.

Izzy’s eyes had dropped closed in an instant, and he was slowly moving his lips against Ed’s like the movement was engrained in his consciousness, his hand rising to plant firmly on Ed’s chest, feeling the raised beat of his heart. It only took a couple of presses of their lips before he was hiding his face against Ed’s neck again, his hand remaining on his skin.

They laid there in silence for a few minutes, Izzy hyper aware of two sets of lips pressed to his skin in the best, more unbelievable way. He was also aware there was no yelling, no jealousy, no angry words or flying insults. It was peaceful. It was accepting. Stede seemed to genuinely accept what Izzy needed, and more than that, didn’t seem to have an ounce of overprotectiveness towards Ed surrounding it. In fact, he seemed to be pressing just as close, just as carefully, just as familiarly.

Stede was the first to break the silence. “I think you need to eat something, Izzy,” he said softly into his ear. He didn’t want to disturb the peace, the way Izzy had relaxed, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed to him that Izzy was pale, paler than normal, and his hand was shaking ever so slightly against Ed’s chest. “Just some toast?”

Izzy found himself nodding. He couldn’t deny he was hungry, even if he still felt nauseous. “Yeah, please,” he mumbled against Ed’s skin. He paused, then raised his head with more effort than he felt it warranted. “I can get it though…” He went to move, but Stede’s hand was resting on his shoulder.

“Don’t be silly, Izzy, stay there with Ed. I’ll bring it up.” Stede didn’t miss the way Izzy blinked in confusion for a second before nodding slowly. He also didn’t miss the way Ed’s gaze turned sad, the frown settling across his brows.

“We mean it when we say you can ask for anything you need,” Ed reminded softly.

Stede pressed one last kiss to Izzy’s shoulder before sitting up. He shook his head subtly at Ed, to tell him not to push any further. Izzy had a whole different mindset for them to navigate right now.

With Stede’s warmth gone from behind him, Ed bundled Izzy closer, tucking the blanket higher up his back so he wasn’t cold. He raised a hand to brush Izzy’s hair back off his face, trailing his fingertips over the bruises on his cheek, thumb caressing gently against the stitch over his lip.

“We’ve got you, yeah?” he whispered again, pulling a nod from Izzy. “Both me and Stede. We’ve got you…”

“Why’s Stede being like this?” he mumbled, once he was sure he had left the room and out of earshot. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, for some reason beyond his understanding he already trusted Stede so wholly it scared the shit out of him. But he didn’t get it. What was Stede getting out of this other than watching the love of his life kiss someone else, someone he had history with, someone that occupied his heart for so long? How was that okay to him?

“He cares about you, Iz. He really cares.” He sighed softly when he was met with silence again. “I mean it Iz. He cared before, he always has. But now… he meant it when he said he wants to look after you just as much as I do. And he wants you to have all of this as much as I do. As much as I want to give it to you, he does too.”

“’s stupid,” Izzy mumbled. His eyes were fixed on the silver chain around Ed’s neck, his slightly tremoring hand pressing against the delicate links, running them between his fingertips. “What’s in it for him?” What was in it for Ed, for that matter.

“He doesn’t have an ulterior motive, Iz.” He looked down at him, knowing Izzy was purposefully avoiding his gaze.

“Bullshit, there’s always an ulterior motive.” Izzy couldn’t place this one, he’d admit. Other than getting in Ed’s good books, making him happy, maybe so Ed owed him a favour? Deep down he knew Stede didn’t have it in him to be that calculated and harsh, but he was struggling to find a different reason.

Ed had to fight with every fibre of his being to not let the words ‘what has he done to you?’ slip from his mouth. Izzy wasn’t a cynical person. Not as much as someone who didn’t know him well would say, anyway. He didn’t trust easily, but then neither did Ed these days. But once he had decided you were a decent human being, he trusted almost completely. He also had self-worth. Sure, it may have taken a knock when he first came back to find Stede on the scene, but it he had built it back up with Ed, and he’d never really lost it with his friends.

They’d spent years building their self-worth together. When they met as teenagers, running as far as possible from their respective families, neither could seem to understand why the other was being kind or loving despite wanting to bestow that themselves. They’d navigated it, eventually, together, only for it all to fall apart again when they split up. Luckily, the second attempt hadn’t taken so long. Once Izzy had come back, once he had accepted Ed’s new life, he seemed to be relatively happy and comfortable with what he wanted, needed, from others, and why he was worth their time.

Ed had rediscovered that with Stede. Izzy had rediscovered that with his friends.

All that hard work seemed to have been taken away, yet again.

“Stede isn’t like that, Iz, and you know it.” He tried to keep his voice gentle. He knew it wasn’t Izzy’s fault, not by any means. And he knew he wasn’t trying to be nasty about Stede. He knew it wasn’t personal. Ed reached up, brushing his thumb over the patch of skin on Izzy’s neck that Stede’s lips had been on minutes before. “Please try to trust us, Iz. None of this is for any reason other than wanting to look after you, help you.”

Izzy wouldn’t admit his head was swimming from the lack of food, and the intoxicating feeling of having both Ed and Stede wrapped around him. He laid in silence then for a while as he continued the internal battle with himself. He should leave. He should really, really leave. This wasn’t fucking normal. He couldn’t go letting himself think this was /okay/. And it certainly wasn’t going to last. But that was the other part of his dilemma – it wasn’t going to last. So he needed to hold on to it, grab it, take everything he could possibly get and not let go for as long as possible. He had to catalogue it all in his head; every touch, every brush of their lips, every graze of their fingertips. Every soft and gentle word. He had to pack it all up and keep it all safe in his memories, so he could take it with him wherever he ended up next. Ed paid him well enough, he could probably get a relatively nice flat. But alone. He would have to be alone now. No more one-night stands, meaningless interactions. How the fuck would he trust anyone he didn’t know if he couldn’t trust those closest to him? So he needed to remember all of this, as intensely as possible.

Stede was walking back in the room then, plate in hand, the toast still warm and slightly steaming. “Can you sit up, Izzy?” Stede asked softly, earning a compliant nod from him as he shifted in Ed’s arms and pushed himself up. He kept his mouth shut tight against the groan of pain, and he leant back against the pillows, taking the plate from Stede. “I think we should check the bruises again whilst you’re sat up, don’t you think Ed?”

Ed wasn’t trying to hide the fact his eyes were fixed on Izzy. He’d half sat up himself, and he was watching him with such concern, Izzy wanted to tell him to fuck off in the harshest of ways.

“Ed, darling?”

“Hmm?” His eyes snapped to Stede, bringing himself back to reality. “Sorry?”

“I said I think we ought to check the bruises again before Izzy settles back down.” Stede sat himself back on the edge of the bed, his own eyes now on Izzy as he pulled at the crusts of the toast, taking a small bite of one.

“Yeah, good idea,” Ed mumbled absentmindedly, eyes back on Izzy. God, he wanted to push. He wanted Izzy to tell him more. He wanted to ask what poison CJ had been filling his head with. to in one breath be wary of their intentions and in the next so malleable and compliant.

For now though, he let Izzy eat, because he was actually eating, and that seemed to be progress.

Stede had disappeared again, and Izzy was more than aware of Ed’s eyes on him as he finished both slices of toast. He had been hungry, despite feeling sick, and already the small amount of food had started to take a positive effect on his complexion.

“I’ll go and wash this up,” Izzy mumbled, gripping the plate as he tried to move to the edge of the bed.

“Okay, no.” Izzy froze as Ed’s hand landed on the plate that he was clutching, stilling his movements. “What the fuck, Izzy? How the fuck have you been living this past year? What has he been saying to you, been making you do?”

Izzy blinked slowly back at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, this isn’t you. Jesus, Iz, this isn’t you! Is this what it’s been like, have you been masking it that well? Did he make you do everything?”

Izzy’s eyes darted up to the doorway as the floorboards creaked, revealing that Stede was making his way back into the room. He’d heard the exchange, of course, how could he not? “Edward…” His tone was warning, low. This conversation needed to happen, he knew that. But there was a time, and there was a way, and he wasn’t sure like this fit either of those things.

The silence from Izzy was deafening, swirling around the room, filling every inch of space, encompassing them in sparce, cold, nothingness. Shit. It really was that, wasn’t it? That really was it. CJ had beaten him down, quite literally, until he complied to his every word. Izzy had always been strong willed, never one to do something if he didn’t want to. Ed had lived with him for almost twenty years. He’d do his fair share around the house, but he was the type of person that didn’t care if a dirty plate sat on the side for the day, or if the hoovering didn’t get done that week. Getting up when he was feeling this rough, to wash a fucking plate, felt like only the tip of the mammoth-size, Titanic-sinking iceberg.

“Izzy, you are worth the entire world. I would do anything to make you feel better, to make you smile, and so would Stede. There is no ulterior motive here, no other reason. I love you, I always have, and I want to look after you and protect you. I know he’s filled with your head with shit, I know it must be so hard to ignore. But fuck, Iz, I promise you… you don’t have to be afraid here.”

Izzy dropped his gaze to the plate in his hand. The tremor was back, but this time it was stress, not lack of food. He went to bite down on his lip, only to remember too late what a bad idea that was and hissed in pain as it split again against the stitch. He instantly felt the blood swell from the cut, warm and wet, oozing slowly downwards towards his chin. He raised a hand to wipe it away roughly, but that only seemed to make it worse. Swearing under his breath, he looked up at Ed again and caught his gaze.

Stede was back at his side again in moments, pulling a tissue from the box at the bedside and pressing it into his hand for Izzy to wipe the blood. Instinct told him he shouldn’t be touching Izzy in that moment, despite how much he wanted to. Despite the fact he had been laying in their arms moments before. Silently, he removed the plate, the offending article that had caused this, from Izzy’s hand and placed it on the table, reaching across and taking Ed’s hand gently. He shifted closer so he could lace their fingers, and raise his hands to kiss his knuckles, a gentle affirmation that he had altered his tone the right direction.

“I just thought at first being with someone controlling like he was… it was better than being alone.” Both Stede and Ed’s gazes snapped to Izzy as he begun to speak. “It was small things at first, telling me he was trying to keep me on the right track. I was smoking too much and working too much and not looking after myself. But then asks turned into demands. And demands turned into orders. And orders turned in to… I just didn’t realise where I was until it was too late.”
Ed kept a firm grip in Stede’s hand, for the sake of gripping on to /someone/. If he couldn’t hold on to Izzy, he had to hold on to something.

“Yeah, he made me do everything. I guess… I kinda got a bit conditioned…” He shrugged, looking up at Ed then, the blood still slowly oozing from his lip. “It’s amazing how quickly you can convince yourself you deserve something.”

Ed felt that hit his chest /hard/. That had been their last conversation as a married couple; neither of them deserved to be unhappy anymore. That had been their parting mantra. When Izzy had turned back up at the bar six months later, to see Stede hanging off Ed like a sea barnacle, he’d spat that clearly Ed knew he deserved to be happy /fast/ and that meant Izzy deserved to be miserable. He hadn’t meant it, he really hadn’t. And he found himself being able to be happy for them not long after, and found himself being able to settle in a fairly content life alone.

CJ had drawn out the inner demons that told him he just deserved to hurt.

Ed shifted closer, dropping Stede’s hand, kneeling in front of Izzy and carefully placing a hand to cup his jaw. “You deserve the world, mate. You deserve every second of happiness… I wish I could make you happy…”

Chapter Text

Izzy wouldn’t have known what to respond with even if he had been given the chance. But clearly Stede had decided that he had left Izzy sat there bleeding long enough. He had disappeared when Ed had dropped his hand, and was back moments later with the first aid kit from the guest bedroom. Ed and Izzy hadn’t moved, locked together, eyes fixed and only interrupted by slow blinking. Izzy hadn’t breathed a word, because he couldn’t, and then Stede was handing Ed a sterile wipe, hand on his shoulder to draw him back to reality.

Ed took the wipe and ripped it from the packet, reaching up to swipe carefully at Izzy’s lip. He winced, hissed, drawing back from Ed with a deep frown.
“Sorry, Iz,” he mumbled, a hand placing on his jaw carefully to hold him steady. He wiped a couple more times before carefully pulling the end of the stitch to remove it. Izzy couldn’t help the whine of pain that left him, hand snapping up to grip at Ed’s wrist.

“Just leave it,” he mumbled but Ed was shaking his head, turning to Stede to receive another stitch and sticking it over.

“You just need to be careful, love,” he said softly and God, Izzy could’ve absolutely melted. That was his Eddie. Gentle and kind, knowing and careful, calling him ‘love’ and looking after him, chastising him. Izzy had spent years missing that.

The brief break in talking seemed to have calmed Izzy down a bit, and Stede decided that he needed to take full advantage of it in that moment. “Izzy…” The older man slowly raised his gaze to look at Stede. He could feel Ed’s eyes on him, a mixture of devotion and sadness he was all too familiar with. “Whilst you’re under this roof, and you’re still healing, there is no expectation of you. This is your home too. You can move around as you please. Eat and drink what you want. Our bed is your bed too, if… if you’d like that?” Izzy blinked slowly, unsure if Stede was expecting an answer. Because, ‘fuck, yes’ was what he wanted to scream. He absolutely wanted their bed to be his bed. He /needed/ that. “If you want something, need something, you ask. I know it might feel a bit… wrong now. After everything. But I promise you… we both just want to keep you safe.”

Stede just couldn’t help the way he reached out then, his hand slow and steady, fingertips brushing up Izzy’s cheek before ascending higher and catching a few wayward strands of hair, pushing them back off his face.

Izzy’s exhale was shaky and uneven, his eyes fixed on Stede. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run. This was just way too good to be true. He had done nothing to deserve this. Nothing. He thought back to Ed telling him there was no ulterior motive. He had such a hard time believing that; he genuinely couldn’t see what either of them, but especially Stede, was getting out of this. But then wasn’t that point? If they weren’t getting anything obvious out of it, then was this just simply out of kindness? Was it simply for the pure, blissful reason of wanting to take care of Izzy? He could only dream that being the case.

He wanted to bolt. He wanted to get out, get away, as far as he could. He didn’t know where he’d go, but every fibre of his being was telling him there was something not to trust here.

Then soft, warm fur landed in his lap.

His eyes shot downwards to Marmalade, who was pawing her way into his lap. The soft pads of her feet were pressing against his legs, kneading slowly, and Izzy could hear her purr, as well as feeling it vibrate through his body. She was nudging his arm then, soft, wet nose grazing his skin, walking a circle in his lap three times before curling up there, tail coming round to envelope her body like a hug. She let out a contented huff and continued to purr deeply as she got comfy and closed her eyes, head resting up on his thigh.

He raised his hand, still shaking, and gingerly placed it on her back. He could feel the vibrations run through it, and it was oddly relaxing, like a white noise machine. The weight of her against his thigh was oddly pleasant, like the weighted blanket but just better. And she was warm too, radiating off a gentle heat that felt somehow like the absolute perfect temperature.

Izzy watched his hand sink into the sublimely soft orange, brown and white fur, caressing down her back, following the direction of her fluff. When she tilted her head up to look at him, green and hazel eyes staring up, he raised his hand and scratched at the top of her head. She blinked slowly at him, her purrs intensifying at the attention she was receiving.

This damn cat never came near him. Ever. And yet here she was, curled up against him like he was her oldest friend.

There couldn’t be anything unsafe here, surely, if she trusted her surroundings like this.

Stede was quietly packing up the first aid box again, allowing Izzy to have a moment. Marmalade had been a similar comfort to him in the past, only a few years ago in fact, when his wife had left for New Zealand with his children. He’d left that life behind before, of course, when he had finally admitted to himself it wasn’t what he wanted, who he was. But he had still been the kid’s father, still seen them on weekends and holidays, still done school drop off and pick up, still taken them on holiday, still looked after them when they were sick.

Mary was going to remarry, and apparently she was going to do that on the other side of the world, in the country where they’d met, where all her family was.
It made perfect sense. Stede had been happy for her. But it still hurt.

He’d got Marmalade the same week. For a small cat she had filled a big hole in his large house. They’d connected straight away, instantly on the same wavelength, the same speed. Marmalade was more in tune to his emotions than most humans he knew.

She was using her superpower in that particular skill with Izzy right now.

Izzy finally looked back to Ed, and his eyes were softer, and maybe glassy with tears again that he was trying to blink away. He nodded slowly, a silent affirmation of everything Ed had said, everything Stede had said.

“I’d… like to stay. For as long as you’ll have me,” he mumbled, with a slightly wet chuckle that was a bit too much on the wrong side of self-deprecating for Ed’s comfort but he chose to let in go in favour of controlling the way he wanted to /scream/ at Izzy that they would have him forever if that was what he wanted.

And actually, fuck it, that was how he felt, so why not say it?

“You can stay forever if you want to, Izzy.” Ed’s eyes shot over to Stede and the genuine smile that drew across his face had Stede raising an eyebrow at him in silent question. Ed chuckled gently and just shook his head in disbelief. That man… He reached out and carefully pulled Stede in for a kiss, just chaste and quick, but it would have told Stede everything he wanted to say. About how incredible he was, how trusting he was, how much of a good human being he was. How Ed was the luckiest man on the earth.

Moments after breaking the kiss, Ed was reaching for Izzy’s hand and lifting his knuckles to his lips, pressing gentle kisses on the bruised skin. He thought maybe it would be too much for Izzy to lean in and kiss his lips after just kissing Stede, just in case that was a barrier Izzy was yet to mentally cross. Instead, he opted for this, passing on the affection and love, whilst he hoped still being mindful.

Izzy felt the blush rise from his cheeks as he watched Ed perform the hopelessly sweet action. He glanced to Stede then, to the soft, warm smile on his face. His brain furiously tried to catch up with the events of the last thirty seconds. They had said stay. Stay forever. And it could’ve been just words, in the heat of the moment, meaningless and throw away, something they could change their minds on in a heartbeat. But that wasn’t the only thing.

Stede had clearly only verbalised Ed’s thoughts, which was thing number one; they both wanted him there, to stay, for however long he wanted. Then Ed had kissed Stede, in front of Izzy, which was thing number two. Obviously that was hardly new, they had kissed in front of him many times before. But in that way, so gently, so meaningfully, about a topic that not only included but entirely revolved around him? That was a whole other level of trust.

And then Ed had kissed his knuckles, so carefully, right after kissing Stede, like he was trying to imprint, to transfer, their kisses to Izzy. Subtly of course. And that was thing number three.

Because now there was this blossoming thing inside him that wanted to kiss Stede.

Where the fuck had that come from?

Izzy cleared his throat for fear of his voice coming out shakier than he wanted to reveal in that moment. “Thank you,” he mumbled, pulling his hand away from Ed in favour of burying it back in Marmalade’s fur again, stroking her slowly. Her purring increased once more, her paws gently puddling at his leg. Ed crawled to sit next to Izzy again, leaning in to his side with an arm around his shoulders, pressing another kiss to his cheek. He just couldn’t help himself. Now that barrier to touching Izzy had been broken again, he just never wanted to stop.

Stede sat back on the edge of the bed. “Would you like anything else to eat? Or more coffee?”

Izzy shook his head. “Haven’t really eaten past few days. Can’t have much yet,” he mumbled quietly. He knew he would only make himself feel worse if he ate too much too fast now. Izzy loved food. It was a simple pleasure in life. He just couldn’t be bothered recently. It was something he could build back up.
Stede nodded in return with a gentle sigh. He didn’t press any further; the progress they had made that morning was better than he had ever expected, he didn’t want to exhaust him.

“Okay, well let’s rest a bit more. Stay in bed. If you feel like getting up later we can wrap you up outside, or on the sofa.” He reached out a hand and pressed it to his forehead. “You seem to be a better temperature now.” He paused and glanced at Ed before looking back to Izzy. “Will you let me call Roach?” he asked quietly, hoping now Izzy might be a bit more receptive.

Izzy sighed softly, keeping his eyes directed down to Marmalade. Fine, he got the point. He knew he should be checked over, knew that it wasn’t just the injuries that they could all see that needed checking. Reality was, he probably needed x-rays, but there was no way in hell that was happening. But Roach could put everyone’s mind at ease, do the stitches better than Ed had (his temple had definitely bled again), and advise them on what Izzy should and shouldn’t do to heal.

The man was a total wild card, but he was bloody good at the things he knew.

“Fine,” he conceded slowly. “But it stays between us. No police still. Not yet…”

Stede nodded. “That’s fine, not yet,” he confirmed before standing and picking up his phone from the bedside. Izzy settled back against Ed’s arm more and turned his head to press against his bare shoulder. His hot skin was heaven, a heaven Izzy had missed but never forgotten.

Ed watched Stede leave the room again before kissing the top of Izzy’s head, hand joining him in the cat’s soft fur. “Thank you, Iz. We’ll all feel a lot better with a proper medical opinion.”

Izzy had to scoff, a small laugh leaving his lips. “Yeah, from a chef…”

Ed chuckled. “A medically qualified chef,” he retorted.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Ed moving his hand from Marmalade to gently run his fingertips over Izzy’s thigh, then the flat of his hand. He didn’t know what drew him to the movement, and he didn’t intend anything by it, but it felt right in the moment. He felt Izzy shudder gently against him and he glanced down, hand stilling.

“Sorry, not good?” he asked quietly, though unsure why.

“S’fine,” Izzy mumbled in return, and he could feel a heat rise against his cheeks. It didn’t take Ed long to cotton on.

Ed driving, Izzy in the passenger seat, Ed’s hand on his thigh. In a restaurant, Ed’s hand under the table rested on his thigh. Sat on the sofa, dark evenings, casually making out, Ed’s first move being a hand skimming up Izzy’s thigh.

Shit, that was nowhere near his intention. The subconscious was an evil bastard.

He quickly raised his hand and swallowed hard. “Fuck, Iz, sorry… I really wasn’t…”

“No, I know,” Izzy responded quickly, because he really did. “I know you weren’t. Just… been a while…” He couldn’t help the slight chuckle that left him. “You won’t be surprised to hear.”

Ed laughed softly too, nodding. “Yeah, shit man. Like… over a year?” Izzy nodded silently. “That’s a long time to not get laid, Iz.”

Izzy chuckled again, rolling his eyes. “Kinda… didn’t really think about it, I guess. Haven’t really cared, mostly. Missed the intimacy more than the sex.” And then it wasn’t funny anymore, and Ed wasn’t laughing.

He nodded, running his fingers back through Izzy’s hair, kissing his head again. “Yeah, I know, mate,” he sighed softly. That needed to change. He hoped they were already working towards making that change.

Stede came back in moments later with a strange grin on his face Izzy didn’t really recognise. Both he and Ed raised an eyebrow in unison, silently questioning. “Roach is on his way, said he’s going to stop off at the hospital and, I quote, ‘steal some shit’ that he needs.” Both Izzy and Ed laughed gently at that and Izzy rolled his eyes. Yeah, that sounded about right. He may have left the business, so to speak, but he still had plenty of previous friends and colleagues who worked there. No doubt he could walk in, take what he wanted and leave again with no questions asked. He had that type of personality.

“That’s not the best bit,” Stede continued with a smirk. “He’s said he’ll come with his cleaver, just in case, and again I quote, ‘the absolute dick had the stupid idea to show up’.”

Izzy felt a gentle warmth grow inside him at Stede’s words.

He didn’t have to be alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Izzy had indeed stayed in bed, cuddled in to Ed’s side. They spoke absentmindedly about nothing in particular, silly little things that didn’t matter. Ed could sense Izzy’s emotional exhaustion, he didn’t feel they should be discussing anything heavy again. Not yet anyway. There was time. They had time now, now Izzy had agreed to stay.

Izzy’s eyes had dropped closed, lulled into dozing against Ed’s chest by the way he was carding a hand through his hair, the way he could hear Ed’s steady heartbeat from where he was pressed against him, the gentle purring from Marmalade still in his lap. When the ring of the doorbell came, followed by the notification pinging on Ed’s phone, he found himself jolting awake again, eyes flying open and suddenly fully alert.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” Ed soothed softly, looking down at him. “It’s just Roach, Iz.” Izzy let out a shaking breath and sat up straighter, stretching his neck side to side and raising a hand to rub over his swallow tattoo. He could hear Stede downstairs greeting him and suddenly felt a rush of nerves course through him. He hadn’t considered what it would be like for someone else to see him like this, almost quite literally flayed open and vulnerable. He shifted against the pillows, hands back to petting down Marmalade’s head and back to try and keep himself calm. Ed kept the arm around him, thumb tracing a soothing pattern on his shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?” he asked, and was met with a quick nod in return.

They didn’t have time to exchange anymore words before Stede was entering the room, giving Izzy what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Roach was moments behind him, carrying a large medical bag that looked like one paramedics used. He gave Ed a nod, and Izzy a smile. The man had a good poker face. Izzy suspected he looked an absolute state, and was under no illusions that it must have been a shock. Then again, the Roach had been a doctor. Maybe nothing shocked him anymore.

“Alright Iz?” he smiled as he made his way around the side of the bed. “Let’s have a look.” He placed the bag on the bed and unzipped it open.

“Thanks for… keeping quiet about this,” he muttered softly.

Roach raised his gaze to him and gave him that manic grin Izzy had come to love now, now he stopped being unnerved by it. “Pleasure. Just means when I see the dick, I can practise my more recently acquired knife skills!” Izzy laughed softly, because he didn’t know what else to do, and felt Ed’s arm tighten around him slightly. “Sorry, Ed, but I need you to move,” Roach mumbled, eyes fixed back down in the bag as he tried to gather some things. Izzy glanced up at him and gave him a gentle nod to affirm he was okay to.

“I’ll be right here,” Ed said softly, scooping Marmalade from his lap who made a small noise of protest as he did. He chuckled softly, placing her on the end of the bed so she could still see Izzy. Leaving a kiss on Izzy’s forehead, he slid himself to the edge of the bed and sat, within arm’s reach.

Roach went efficiently about his work then, muttering quiet words to Izzy to get him to sit up, turn his head, move how he needed him to, to examine him. Ed watched the entire time, eyes never leaving them. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Roach, he totally did, but Izzy was still on edge, and yet another person touching him could be the opposite to what he needed right now.

They started with what could be seen. Roach applied a better stitch to his lip, and then used two actual stitches on his temple. Izzy was cursing softly under his breath, but Roach was fast and neat and was done in no time.

It was only when he moved to examining his ribs that Ed wanted to punch Roach in the face for hurting Izzy. Wasn’t his fault, but still. The ex-doctor pressed his fingers against Izzy’s ribs, placing careful pressure and feeling.

“Fuck!” The exclamation of pain tumbled from Izzy’s lips, his hand flying out to Ed who caught it instantly and laced their fingers together, squeezing. Izzy hadn’t realised Stede had been hovering in the hallway outside until he appeared in the doorway in that moment, face filled with concern.

“Sorry, sorry,” Roach mumbled, a frown fixed on his face in concentration. “I’m going to have to do that again. Deep breath.” Izzy practically growled at him but Roach ignored. He had a job to do. He pressed a few more times, expletives tumbling from Izzy’s mouth, holding tight onto Ed’s hand. “Okay, done,” Roach muttered as he stood again, only looking a little bit guilty.

Izzy could’ve sworn that man was a masochist, considering he used to be a doctor. Good thing he’d trust him with his life.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy breathed, letting himself sink back into the pillows to try and take pressure off. Roach pulled a box of pills from the bag, placing them on the beside.

“One a day, no more, they’re the strong stuff. Prescription only,” he instructed, raising an eyebrow at Izzy. “And I mean one.”

“Yeah, fine,” Izzy muttered in return. “What’s the verdict?”

“Broken. That’s why I’m giving you the strong stuff.” He zipped up the bag, looking back over to Izzy. “There’s not much I can do. What I stitched will heal now. Your collarbone is bruised but not broken. Without an x-ray I can’t be sure, but I’m guessing two ribs are broken, another cracked. Only thing I can say is ice packs, and keep yourself moving. Don’t stay still too long.” He offered another one of his smiles that sat on the side of frenzied, rather than reassuring. “Just say the word and I’ll find him.” There was a smile on his face, but his voice was deadly serious.

“And what, use your chef knives?” Ed asked with a slight smirk. He had to admit, just the look of fear on CJ’s face would’ve been worth it, even if they all knew Roach never would actually hurt him like that.

Roach shrugged. “A knife’s a knife, and meat is meat.”

Izzy felt a shudder run through him. “Okay, stop…” he muttered, letting out a slow breath to soothe his stomach, which was currently doing summersaults at the thought.

“Sorry,” Roach grinned, though he really wasn’t. “Just call if you need anything. I can be right over.” He offered them both a genuine, less manic smile, before heading out of the bedroom. Izzy caught the back of Stede as he followed Roach back down the stairs again.

“You okay, baby?” Ed asked, moving back in front of Izzy, hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry if we took the joke too far…”

Izzy shrugged. “It’s fine, I just… I don’t want anyone else getting hurt because of this.”

Ed sighed, moving to sit back next to him, arm around his shoulders once more. “He wouldn’t actually do it, you know that. But… everyone’s gonna think it, Iz. That’s how much everyone cares.”

Izzy leant back in to him, nodding a little at his words. He knew that. He knew this insane, disfunction family he had around him would protect him until the end of time.

And yet he made himself stay silent for so long.

Stede was back in the room then, having seen Roach out. He looked a little sheepish as he walked back in, standing at the foot of the bed. “So… I know you said just between us but…”

Izzy raised an eyebrow, fixing him with a glare that he didn’t really mean. “Let me guess, everyone knows?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Stede confirmed, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Still! They would’ve worked it out eventually,” he said tactlessly, like he expected that to help.

Ed shot him a look, and Stede’s expression faltered. “Well, you know what I mean…” he mumbled.

Izzy had to chuckle softly and shake his head. “It’s fine,” he sighed. “You’re right. I don’t know how I would’ve hidden it, going back to the bar.” He knew it was going to be a few weeks, but he also knew how long bruises took to fade on his skin. Annoyingly slow, he had come to realise.

“Roach suggested we have a get together soon, a quiet one. Everyone’s eager to see you.”

It was Ed’s turn to raise an eyebrow then. “Not too soon, Stede. He isn’t strong enough.”

“/He’s/ sat right here,” Izzy muttered, looking up at him. Ed sighed gently, running his fingertips over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “But you’re not, Iz. You really need to rest for a few days. If you want to, maybe end of next week?”

Izzy shrugged weakly, hand rising to catch at Ed’s necklace again, placing tension on the links with his finger before letting go and running his fingers over it. So maybe that was too overwhelming to think about right now. Maybe the thought of seeing everyone who loves him and wants to look after him was something he couldn’t handle.

He was barely handling this.

Stede cleared his throat, now regretting rushing in to that suggestion so fast. “So, Roach said ice packs? Shall I go and get one?” Izzy grimaced. He had just been wrapped up with a hot water bottle, he didn’t want to now be cold.

Ed pressed in to him, lips against his ear. “Don’t worry, you can share my warmth,” he whispered in a voice that had a shiver running down Izzy’s spine for a whole other reason. A reason he hadn’t felt in years. A reason he wanted to feel again.

He couldn’t help the way he quickly looked up at Ed, the shock and a lingering look of something else he wasn’t quite sure of clear on his face. Ed just looked back down at him with a quirk of his eyebrow, daring him to argue that he didn’t mean it. Daring him to pull away because he didn’t want it.

Izzy didn’t move.

It was Stede that had the smirk on his face enough for all three of them. There was something about watching that unfold, and the way Izzy didn’t pull away, that had the satisfaction settling deep in his chest, comforting and heavy, making a home. Already it just felt right that Izzy was slotted in to their lives like this, and they had hardly begun.

They had hardly begun. What an assumptive, yet overwhelming positive thought to have first thing on a Saturday morning.

He took himself off quietly from the room to go to the freezer and get an icepack, contemplating the whole way how exactly this was going to go down. And why exactly he couldn’t wait so much. He was presuming, of course, presuming way too far ahead and making far too many leaps, as he usually did. He shouldn’t presume, for example, that Izzy meant he wanted to stay with them beyond healing. And he definitely shouldn’t assume that just because Izzy had let Stede touch him a couple of times that he’d be willing to do it again in the future. And more. He shouldn’t be presuming any of it.

And yet here he was, humming his way back up the stairs, the memory of Ed and Izzy cuddled together burned into the corners of his mind, and the image of the three of them cuddled together in the future creeping in.

Such a huge leap. He needed to reign it in.

He wrapped the two icepacks in the tea towels he had picked up as he walked back in the room, climbing back onto the bed and gently pulling the blanket out of Izzy’s lap. “What if we wrapped the blanket back around you to hold them in place?” he mumbled, almost to himself. Izzy just gave a silent nod and sat himself forward. Between Ed and Stede, they settled the ice packs onto his ribs (with a hiss from Izzy that had Ed kissing his cheek in apology) and wrapped the fluffy grey blanket all the way around him, cocooning him. Ed eased him back against the pillows, nodding at their handiwork.

“That should keep them there for a bit. Half an hour maybe? Then we’ll get you up and moving.”

Izzy rolled his eyes, glaring back at him. “I’m not a total fucking invalid,” he muttered, but Stede had to smile at the lack of punch his tone had.

“We know, Izzy, we just want to help,” he reminded him gently. Izzy seemed to concede again then, just leaning back into Ed as he once more wrapped his arms around him and drew him close.

Chapter Text

It could have terrified Izzy how easily they fell into a rhythm together after that. For he and Ed certainly it was like they had never parted. That’s what scared Izzy the most. Scared him and made him tumble into a soft, warm place he didn’t even know existed within him anymore.

But it wasn’t even just with Ed. Suddenly being with Stede was easy, so fucking easy, like they too had been like that all along. They hadn’t, and this was so new and unfamiliar and yet just felt so /right/. At first he thought it was just because of Ed; he was the glue holding it all together, right? Both Izzy and Stede were there because of him. Izzy was convinced that if Ed was removed from the equation, it just didn’t add up anymore. That was why this wasn’t a permanent thing. That was why he was giving himself a few weeks, to heal mostly (though apparently not properly because apparently that took fucking /months/ with the injuries he had) and then he could move into his own place and still see Ed and Stede both at work and socially. But it was never going to be like this again.

This was a fluke. This was just being allowed because he was hurting, and healing. All bets were off right now. But the rules would be back soon enough.

And then the Tuesday after the Saturday he turned up on their doorstep, Ed decided he really ought to go into the bar to check on everything. Izzy agreed, and tried to insist for the tenth time that morning as Ed pulled on his jacket and shoes that he wanted to come with him.

“I know you want to, Iz, but you’re not!” Izzy glared at him from where he was leant back against the wall in the obnoxiously large entrance hall, arms crossed. “Glare at me all you like, it’s a no. I already told you, I’ll bring home your laptop and all the paperwork and maybe…” Izzy raised an eyebrow so Ed doubled down. “/Maybe/ you can do some of the accounts from here. But the second you walk into that place you’ll start moving shit around, and trying to tidy and reorganise. I’m not having it.” By the time he’d finished his ranting, he’d laced his boots and stood up straight again, stepping in front of Izzy. “If you don’t heal properly now, it’s only going to take longer to get you back.”

Izzy rolled his eyes and looked away. He hated it when Edward was right. He got so fucking smug.

“I’ll be back for dinner.” He tucked a finger under Izzy’s chin and gently turned his head to face him again. “Can I kiss you?”

Izzy raised an eyebrow at him, he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to make some stupid quip, purposefully tease him, point out he never needed permission before. But his eyes were so genuine and sincere that Izzy felt his mouth go dry and his fingers twitched where his arms had moved to hang uselessly at his sides. His eyes darted sideways, towards Stede’s office at the back of the house where he knew he currently was. He’d started working early that morning, whilst Ed and Izzy were still asleep, so he could be done earlier for when Ed got home. Ed had no doubt kissed Stede goodbye already. Izzy still didn’t know where he stood with it all. The cuddling, the holding, the lips on his skin… that all seemed to be second nature from them all now, somehow, only four days in. But kissing… actual kissing? They’d both said it was fine, and yet it still felt… underhand.

“If… if Stede doesn’t mind,” Izzy found himself whispering, his voice distant even to himself.

“You know he doesn’t,” Ed replied gently. He didn’t lace his tone with any exasperation or annoyance that Izzy was asking yet again. Instead, he reassured, carefully, before leaning in and pressing their lips together in a feather light kiss, somewhat still mindful of the injury there. He couldn’t wait to kiss Izzy properly, when that was healed. Izzy couldn’t wait either, not that it was going to happen, he was sure.

Before he could let himself get carried away, Ed drew back again with a gentle smile. “See you later,” he said softly, before stepping back and picking up his car keys from the hook by the door. With a final flash of that cheeky smile that Izzy had fallen in love with all those years ago, he was heading out of the door.

Izzy rested his head back against the wall. He was so fucked.

He took a moment to gain his composure before he was moving off the wall, standing motionless for a second. What the hell did he do with himself? He was in someone else’s house, in someone else’s clothes (luckily he actually had a pair of his own jeans there from when he’d stayed once and left them, so he was now wearing them and wrapped up in Ed’s Pink Floyd hoodie), had no work to do, and no where to be. He hated that. He hated feeling useless.

He wandered slowly into the kitchen and clicked the kettle on, Marmalade running in with a chirp and winding herself around his legs.
“Hello you,” he smiled fondly. “Let me guess, you heard someone in the kitchen and obviously thought you were going to get fed?” She looked up at him with her wide, bright eyes and it only made Izzy smile wider. “Well, you’re not, because Stede will kill me if I start giving you treats you shouldn’t be having.” He sighed as he turned to the cupboard with the cups. “And I’m talking to a fucking cat…” he muttered, pulling out Stede’s favourite tea cup from the cupboard (how did he know that? He couldn’t remember), along with another mug that had a silhouette of a cat on it, surrounded by shining pearls. He didn’t know why, but he just liked that mug the best.

He made them both a drink, earl grey for Stede and English breakfast for himself. “Come on then, let’s go and see him.” He scooped Marmalade up and let her hang over his arm as he picked up the two mugs and carried them through to the office.

Stede was on the phone when he walked in, so he silently placed the mug down on his coaster next to him on the desk. He then plopped Marmalade down in her cat tree in the corner, and she happily went about scratching at the post. The bifold doors out into the garden were open, and seen as he had nothing else to do, Izzy decided he would go and sit in the fresh air for a bit. Apparently, that would do him good, according to Stede, who was just finishing up his conversation on the phone.

As Izzy passed him again, Stede caught his hand gently in his own, putting down the phone. “Thank you for the tea,” he said softly, with a genuinely lovely smile that had Izzy feeling a blush cast over his cheeks.

“S’fine, Bonnet,” he mumbled in return, feeling a smile tug at his own lips. Stede chuckled at the use of his surname and rolled his eyes. Ed had told him Izzy used it affectionately, but Izzy never really did it to him directly. Maybe that was progress?

“Take a book out if you want?” he offered, gesturing to the bookcases to his right. “And of course anything from upstairs too.”

Izzy shrugged, the movement then making him aware that Stede had hold of his hand still. Hadn’t let go. In fact, he was lacing their fingers together slowly, and Izzy could feel the brush of the antique rings he wore against his skin. They weren’t to Izzy’s personal taste, but he could see why Stede liked them. He didn’t see the point of large jewellery like that, worn aesthetically. Except for Ed. Because when Ed wore it, it was hot. And actually, come to think of it, the way the rings framed Stede’s fingers was… no. No, that train of thought needed to stop right now…

He realised he hadn’t moved, and his eyes were fixed on their entwined hands, and he swallowed the lump in his throat, placing down his mug back on the desk for fear suddenly of spilling it. “Ed kissed me goodbye.” Okay, what the fuck? Where had that come from? Why did he suddenly feel he had to confess that?

“Okay…?” Stede said gently, moving to stand slowly in front of Izzy, keeping hold of his hand. “That’s okay. Unless… unless you didn’t want him to?” He didn’t like to pose the thought, surely Ed would’ve noticed. He could read every single line of Izzy’s expression, given the years of their lives they had shared. Surely he would tell if that was stepping too far.

“He asked first,” Izzy affirmed, staring up at Stede with wide, unsure eyes. “I just… thought you should know…”

Stede chuckled, though it wasn’t unkindly, even if it may have felt a little condescending to Izzy. “He kissed me goodbye too,” Stede replied. Two could play at that game.

Izzy nodded slowly, breaking eye contact and glancing down again to look at their hands. Stede raised his other hand, the one that wasn’t occupied holding Izzy’s so carefully, and came to rest it on his cheek. “Izzy, may I…”

They both jolted as Stede’s phone began to ring again, the vibrations on the wooden desk alarmingly loud. Izzy instantly stepped back, letting go of Stede from his grip. “I’ll let you get on,” he mumbled, picking up his cup from the desk and making a swift exit into the garden. Fucking hell, what was that?!

Izzy paced the garden until his ribs couldn’t take it anymore. He had placed the mug of tea on the table on the patio, and left it there to go cold. He was sure he was making himself dizzy with the pointless circles he was walking. Dizzy Izzy. He used to get teased, bullied, with that in school. He shook the thought away and took himself to the very bottom of the garden, well out of sight of the house. Stede had created himself a reading nook down there, with a rose arch that was growing beautifully and a wooden swing seat. It was cute. It was very Stede.

Izzy elected to sit on the stationary wooden bench, worried if once he sat on the swing seat, he wouldn’t get himself back up again. He sighed and looked down at his hands, stretching his fingers out, reaching his right over to his left and running his right index finger over his left ring finger. Over the ‘x’ tattoo there.

It had been one of his crazier ideas, but once he had thought of it, he couldn’t get it out of his head.

“Keep getting it caught on shit, boxes and stuff” Izzy muttered, not long after they were married. “I’ve scratched it to hell already, its only been a few months.” They were laid in bed, sheets hardly covering them, and Izzy was holding his wedding ring up to the light, observing the scuffs on the gold band. “I’m worried I’m going to chip the fucking stone.” The small emerald was just that, small, but perfect.

Ed had propped himself up on his elbow to get a closer look at it. “Then don’t wear it to work, mate. I don’t mind.” He turned to him and grinned mischievously. “I know you’re mine.”

Izzy laughed softly, and flopped back, letting Ed lean over him as he slipped the ring back on. “I know you do, but other people won’t then, will they?”

“Hmm, we can’t have that,” Ed purred as he leant down closer, their lips almost touching. “Can’t have people hitting on you thinking you aren’t taken.” Any retort Izzy was going to make had been swallowed in a kiss, hot and possessive, showing him exactly who he belonged to.

Later that week he had sauntered up to Ed whilst he was in the office, trying to make sense of the accounts the owner was making a bit of a mess of, and handed him a plain piece of paper. “Could you write a cross on that?” he asked.

Ed raised an eyebrow at him, pausing. “A cross?”

“Yeah. The letter ‘x’. Can you write one on there for me?”

“What for, Iz?” Ed questioned.

“You’ll see. Just do it,” he murmured, with a glint in his eye that had Ed eager to comply simply to see what he was planning. So he picked up the pen he had been using and drew one. Izzy shook his head. “Too big, one a bit smaller?”

That only made Ed more curious. With a slight frown that was framed with a grin, he tried again.

“Perfect. Thanks,” Izzy smirked and snatched the paper from him, walking away before Ed could ask again.

The next day Izzy had left for work early, leaving Ed asleep. When he’d dragged himself out of bed to go to the bar (slightly late, as usual, but who cared. He was the manager), Izzy was almost purposefully avoiding him. He caught glimpses of him from afar, but he never lingered long enough to talk.

When he finally got him to stay still for more than two seconds, stood behind the bar just before opening, he immediately noticed a shininess against Izzy’s ring finger. “What’s this?” he asked, carefully taking his hand and raising it to the light.

He felt the breath catch in his throat, the tears immediately fill his eyes as he looked down.

There was the ‘x’ he had drawn the previous day, tattooed on Izzy’s finger exactly where his wedding ring would sit, wrapped in the sterile plastic, showing it was freshly done. The size of it meant that the four corners would peak out under the thin band when he was wearing it, and be large enough to be noticeable when he wasn’t.

“Fuck, Iz… baby, did you…?” Izzy smiled so warmly, so genuinely, Ed was raising his hand to cup his cheek, pressing him into the bar.

“Problem solved,” Izzy whispered against his lips, before he was melting against him as Ed closed the small distance and claimed his mouth. It was a matter of seconds before the kiss switched the heat and teeth and tongue, and Ed was gripping the front of Izzy’s shirt.

“Office, now…” he panted against his lips.

Izzy smirked wickedly. “We open in seven minutes, /boss/,” he breathed, though even as he pretended to protest, he was pressing back against Ed.

“Loads of shit you can do in seven minutes, Iz,” Ed whispered back. “Fucking loads…”

Izzy smiled softly as he ran his finger over the now old tattoo, sighing as the warm breeze caught his face and soothed his bruised skin. So long ago. So much had happened since then.

Was he walking right back into the same trap? With another level of added complication.

Stede.

Stede who was now walking towards him. Shit.

“May I join you?” he asked softly.

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Your fucking garden,” he mumbled, but his tone didn’t seem to argue, so Stede sat himself next to Izzy on the bench.

“I don’t mind that Ed kisses you,” Stede immediately begun and Izzy had to stop himself rolling his eyes. He didn’t want to do this right now. “I really don’t. In fact, I… I would encourage it. All of it. I’m not exactly… refraining from showing you those affections myself.”

Izzy glanced over to him quickly, eyes dancing over his face. “Meaning…?”

“Well, we’ve been… intimate, haven’t we? You’ve let me hold you and… and I know I haven’t kissed you… directly but… but…” Izzy had to smile at Stede’s faltering, so much so he had to look away again. “But I understand if you don’t… if it’s just Ed. If I’ve been…” Honestly, he was worse than Izzy in that moment with expressing how he was feeling, what he really meant.

And with a rush of courage, Izzy reached over with his left hand, the one bearing Ed’s mark, and took Stede’s hand again, lacing their fingers together just as Stede had done only minutes before.

“I like it, Stede,” he admitted quietly. “I… I really like it.”

Chapter Text

Ed had arranged the get together for that Thursday evening. The bar was usually closed on Thursday, except for when they ran special events like Frenchie singing or John’s drag show. With nothing like that booked in, it was the perfect timing.

Izzy had promised he would be careful. He promised he would hardly drink, given the level of painkillers he was still on. He had promised he wouldn’t touch anything to do with actual work. He had promised to sit carefully in a corner, even let Stede bring a load of cushions and blankets to make sure he was supported and comfy. Despite his initial worries, he was actually desperate to see everyone. So he promised, to make them happy, to make sure they let it happen.

It had all basically gone unsaid. No one had mentioned it, they were just all careful. Where Fang would normally squeeze the life out of him with a hug, he held him gently for a moment before letting go. Where Jim would normally fake some form of physical attack on him, they just nodded their head, gently fist bumped his arm, and moved away. Where Lucius would normally just say hi, he quietly took Izzy to one side, murmured softly to him that he was so sorry he didn’t notice, and gave him the tenderest hug they had ever shared, leaving a gentle kiss on his cheek. Izzy let the touch linger, let Lucius’s nose graze the line of his jaw, let his hand brush down Lucius’s arm. Pete watched from afar with the most genuine smile Izzy had ever seen.

Nothing was secret with this lot. But then, Izzy didn’t really want it to be.

Ed had made it clear it was going to be a quiet one tonight, given Izzy’s health. In fairness, they only ever got absolutely pissed and raucous when it was a celebration; a birthday or anniversary. Otherwise, they tended to be more low-key affairs than the term ‘lock-in’ gave credit for; a few bottles of wine, some food and a good catch up. Tonight was in that realm.

Izzy couldn’t believe how much everything hurt still, but Roach had reminded him as he complained that it had been less than a week. His entire body still felt weak, and bruised, and the physical evidence of that was still obvious.

For the sake of making sure he was comfortable, Ed had dragged another table and chairs over to a booth, so everyone had space to sit round. Stede had insisted Izzy climb into the corner of the booth, so he was supported, tucking him against the cushions and laying a blanket over him. He hadn’t stopped being cold without layers, a hot water bottle, or arms around him since the day he walked into Ed and Stede’s house. Roach had said it was perfectly normal, just the body trying it’s best to heal. So whilst it felt weak and pathetic and like he was playing on it, he let Stede tuck him in to the corner.

There was no air of awkwardness like Izzy imagined there would be. Everyone started chatting and laughing, the wine being poured, the food being passed around. Izzy was glad for the sense of normality. This was his family. This was where he belonged. Thank god he had a chance to come back here, to this. To home.

A couple of hours in he’d got up to go to the toilet. Stede’s hand had clung on for a second longer than it should have, realistically, as he stood from the booth, shooting him a look that said ‘stop fussing’ before slowly, stiffly, taking himself off to the bathroom. He suspected the second he was out of earshot, he would be the subject on everyone’s lips. Let them. It wasn’t out of malice.

Izzy took a second to inspect himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. God, he looked /old/. He felt old. His bruises weren’t fading half as fast as they used to, still dark around his eye and temple. The split on his lip was still healing, the swelling still apparent. He looked better than he did, but it was still obvious to anyone looking at him for more than two seconds.

Still, according to Pete, it was a cool look for a bar manager. He’d take that.

As he headed back into the bar, he nipped behind it to pick up another bottle of wine – his favourite red. He hadn’t had anything to drink yet, and he wanted the one drink he was going to be allowed to be something he loved. As he turned it over in his hand, he remembered all the years they couldn’t afford it. He remembered the first time they bought themselves a bottle, how much of an achievement that felt. That seemed worlds away now.

He was crossing the main space of the bar when there was a crash at the door, slamming of the metal against the wall as the backdoor swung open. Izzy spun around fast to look. He shouldn’t have been shocked with what he saw, but he still felt every inch of himself tense.

“There you are! Fucking finally!”

Izzy let out a shaky exhale as he stared back at Jack, hand gripping tight onto the bottle. He felt frozen to the spot, like some fucking cliché in an awful movie, but it was true. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t retreat away even. He just stared back at him, actively feeling his heartrate rise, and the ache in his muscles grow.

Collectively, multiple chairs scraped across the floor as everyone stood.

“Having a nice night with your fuckin’ friends?!” Jack slurred. “When the fuck are you coming home?”

Izzy felt his mouth go dry, and no words were forming. Not even a simple ‘fuck off’. He didn’t have a clue how to respond. In fact, he just stared, eyes wide and… terrified. He was pretty sure he looked terrified.

Within seconds, he felt presence around him. Fang was to his left, moving to stand slightly in front of him, and John was to his right, doing exactly the same. With a glance, he could also see Jim and Roach moving towards them, Pete hot on their heels.

“Get the fuck out!” The voice that carried through the bar was from no one at Izzy’s immediate side. It was from Ed, who was stood still at the table. For a second, Izzy felt a sinking of disappointment that Ed was hanging back. Then he risked a glance back and realised why. Stede was stood at his side, tight grip on his arm, actively holding him back.

Of course. Ed would rip CJ to pieces if he was given half a chance.

“If you don’t get the fuck out, I will fucking kill you…” Ed growled, and shit Izzy believed him.

Jack scoffed at that, and then he was stalking directly towards Izzy, who felt the bottle of wine slip from his hand and shattered to the floor, spilling the liquid in a pool around his feet. He tried his absolute best to not just crumple on the floor right in front of him. Instead, everyone closed ranks. John and Fang were directly stood in front of him in seconds, shielding him. Frenchie was at Izzy’s side a moment later, sliding a hand in to his, lacing their fingers and squeezing gently. Izzy could hear Pete on the phone behind him, knowing it was probably to the police, and there was a sabotaging voice inside his head that wanted to beg him to stop. He’d have to face this, properly face it, if the police came.

“I knew you’d go crying back to him, fucking freak,” Jack growled. Izzy couldn’t even see him anymore; Fang and John were significantly taller than him of course, and with the way they were directly blocking him from CJ, he didn’t have to see. But he could hear. “I knew you’d been fucking him still this whole time! Couldn’t resist Edward fucking Teach!”

“Edward, no!” Stede’s sharp tone had Izzy looking around quickly, in time to see Ed yanking his arm from Stede’s grip and walking towards CJ with more purpose than Izzy had ever seen him move before. Olu stepped up to him, planting a firm hand on his chest.

“I wouldn’t…” he warned, but Izzy knew that look, that darkness behind Ed’s eyes. He knew he only had one objective now, and he wouldn’t be stopped.
CJ was closing the distance between them. “What’s the matter, Teach? Can’t handle him all on your own? You never fucking could. You never worked out how to control him, did you? You jealous I did? It’s simple enough really. Just treat him like the fucking dog he is…”

If CJ had more to say, he was never going to be given the chance to let the words out into the atmosphere. Ed’s fist made contact with his jaw seconds later, causing CJ to stumble backwards. Inadvertently, Ed had sent him right into Izzy’s path. Fang and John hadn’t expected it, hadn’t anticipated the sudden movement. They weren’t encompassing Izzy anymore. Even as they tried to move to shield him, CJ was reaching up, grabbing at Izzy’s wrist in a harsh, bruising grip, and pulling.

Izzy couldn’t recall dropping Frenchie’s hand, couldn’t even register when he had taken a step away from his side. He hoped it was a conscious decision. He was pretty sure he had taken a second to scream at himself that he needed to get far away from everyone else, so they wouldn’t get hurt. He was pretty sure he had made the conscious decision to step a little further from the protection of his friends as Jack came tumbling towards him.

He couldn’t take them down with him.

Before anyone could react, Jack had hold of him and he was being slammed into the floor. His felt his body scream at him, his already broken and bruised ribs making contact with the cold, hard ground. He took a breath and braced for what was next… only for it not to come.

Ed tackled CJ away from him seconds later, pinning him to the floor under him. He delivered another strike to his face, satisfied as the crack of his cheekbone filled the room. The next punch split his lip, just like Izzy’s. Then his hands were around his neck, thumbs pressing into his throat, putting all his force behind /squeezing/. “You never fucking touch him again. Ever!”

“Edward!” Stede was suddenly next to them, grabbing at Ed’s shoulder, trying to drag him back. “Ed, stand down! Stop!” Then large hands were on Ed, dragging him back. Izzy was shocked at how hard both Fang and John had to work to pull him back off CJ. Ed’s rage seemed to increase his strength tenfold, and he was fighting back against them, squirming to try and get forward to Jack again.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you! You never touch him again!” Izzy had enough awareness to look over at Ed as he was being pulled back, tears streaming down his face, his hair that had been neatly tied back by Stede that morning strewn in strands everywhere, his knuckles cracked and bloody.

Izzy didn’t know where anyone else was. He could hear more shouting, more yelling, everyone’s voices mixing in the air above him and becoming one vast lump of noise. He didn’t know if there was someone next to him, trying to take his hand, or if he was just getting caught up in the mass movement as everyone tried to move all at once. All he could manage to do was get up onto his knees and start crawling.

He dragged himself a few feet away from the madness, slumping back against the bar and letting his head fall back with a harder thump than he really intended. He could feel the hot tears running down his cheeks, and his breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps. His chest had tightened, his throat dry, his palms clammy, his stomach knotted and painfully flipping.

Great. He was having panic attack. Just what he needed right now.

Izzy drew his knees up to his chest burying his face in them, cradling himself closer against the bar, despite how much that hurt his chest. There was still yelling around him. He could hear CJ’s shouts, though they seemed to be muffled and more distant now. He could still hear Ed screaming at him, hear his boots hitting the ground as he squirmed in John and Fang’s grip. He could hear his own breathing rattling against his chest, the way the sobs that coursed through his body wheezed and stiffen against his muscles. He gulped in the breaths, balling his hands into fists and sinking his nails into his palms in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

Then Stede’s voice rang out above the rest, with more authority and clarity than he had ever heard from him before. “Everyone shut up! Roach, Jim, John, take him outside. Olu, Fang, Frenchie, calm Ed down. Lucius, Pete, turn off the music and get Izzy some water.”

There was a presence in front of him then; Izzy could almost feel the warmth radiating in to him. “Izzy, it’s me,” Stede breathed quietly. “Can you lift your head for me?” For some reason, Izzy felt the need to comply. With breaths now stuttering harshly, his head swimming from the lack of oxygen, his chest tense and gripping with pain, and tears streaking down his cheeks, he lifted his head from his knees to look at Stede.

“Okay, Izzy, it’s okay. I’m here. I need you to slow your breathing, okay? Can you breathe with me?” Stede began to inhale and exhale deeply, purposefully, exaggerating the breaths so that Izzy could mimic them. Izzy frowned deeply as he tried his best to follow Stede’s instructions, but his breaths were still shaking and coming in way too fast. “Izzy I won’t touch you without permission, but maybe try putting your hand on my chest, so you can feel the breaths?”

Izzy raised a violently shaking hand, letting it sit gingerly on Stede’s chest as he knelt in front of him. Stede continued his exaggerated breaths, and Izzy kept his eyes fixed on the hand on his chest, watching the rise and fall, desperately trying to follow.

“Name me three things you can hear, Izzy,” Stede said softly, voice steady but gentle.

Izzy blinked slowly at the hand, then raised his eyes slowly to dart around him. “Music… your breathing… Lucius’s voice.” Each utterance was punctuated by a gasp of breath. He could hear Lucius and Pete behind him, at the bar, presumably doing as Stede told them too. Moments later, the bar fell mostly silent as the music stopped, and the yelling seemed to have calmed.

“That’s good, well done,” Stede encouraged gently. “Three things you can feel?”

“My phone… in my pocket. Stitch on my lip… your shirt…” His breathing was slowing slightly now, and for the first time, he raised his eyes to meet Stede’s.

“Really good, Izzy. And three things you can see?”

“The… the lights. The seats… you…” The last word came out as a whispered breath, but that meant his breathing was calming further, moving closer and closer to a normal pattern. Slowly, he closed his fist around Stede’s shirt and gripped gently, finding the warmth combined with the soft fabric grounding.

“You’re doing so well,” Stede praised softly. “Can I touch you?” Izzy swallowed hard, his eyes instantly welling full of tears again as he nodded.

Stede made sure to make no sudden movements as he shifted closer. He came to settle next to Izzy, back pressed against the bar also. To begin with he slid an arm around his shoulders, but with the desperate whimper that left Izzy’s lips, and the way he leant in to his side, he was enveloping Izzy in his arms seconds later, pulling him closer though being mindful of the bruises. It only took another frantic heartbeat before Izzy was climbed into his lap, and Stede was cradling him close, letting him grip on for dear life, shaking in his arms and desperately pressing his face to his neck.

“I’ve got you,” Stede breathed, and he tried not to let his voice waver as he felt his own eyes fill with tears. “That’s it, just breathe. We’ve all got you…”

Chapter Text

The police had come. From where he was curled up against Stede, he had a vague awareness of the fact there were other people in the room, other voices he didn’t recognise. He was still shaking, still crying, though silently now.

There was nothing more earth shattering than thinking you were in the safest place in the world, only to have that proven wrong in seconds.

Lucius was at their side, a hand on Stede’s shoulder. Izzy could feel how close he was. “They want to take a statement.”

“Well, they can’t,” Stede retorted quickly. “Look at him, Lucius. He’s in no fit state. They can another day, but not right now.”

“Yeah… I’ll tell them,” he replied quietly. “They’re questioning Ed now.”

Izzy raised his head at that, the breath catching in his throat. “I can speak to them,” he said quietly, his voice wavering with effort. “It’s not… it’s not his fault.”

“Sshh now, Izzy,” Stede soothed, running a hand up and down his back. “It’s okay. Ed can handle it himself,” he assured him. He slid a hand to the back of Izzy’s head and cradled him close again.

He didn’t know how long they had been there, it could’ve been a matter of minutes or hours, but eventually Ed was at their side again. “Iz…” His voice drew Izzy out, raising his head from Stede’s neck, meeting Ed’s eyes that were a mirror of his; red raw from crying, and sad and distant.

“Eddie…” he breathed in response, frowning deeply at how exhausted he looked. “Are you okay?”

Ed scoffed gently, slowly lowering himself to sit on the floor next to them. “I’m fine mate, don’t worry about me.” He glanced over to Stede. “They’ve arrested him.” Izzy didn’t know who Ed was directing the statement to, but he did know he felt Stede’s grip tighten around him just a little. “I explained everything. They want a statement from you, Iz, but we said not right now. But…” He looked down to Izzy then, reaching out and cupping his jaw. “They believe you, baby. You don’t have to worry about that. They just need to hear it from you.”

Izzy was limp in Stede’s arms, unmoving, like he was frozen in time in that moment. Every emotion under the sun swirled through his brain all at once. How the hell was he suppose to feel about that? What was he suppose to do now? Relief was the predominant thing that washed over him, followed by a rush of sickness. He’d have to talk. He’d have to tell complete strangers everything. Stede noticed the hitch in his breathing as he began to spiral.

“Izzy… it’s okay. It’s not happening right now, okay? And when it does, it’ll be when you’re ready. And we’ll be there if you want us to be, okay?”

Izzy squeezed his eyes shut before managing a slight nod, letting out a long, shaky exhale.

“Let’s get you home, baby,” Ed said softly, standing upright again. He took both of Izzy’s hands, and with Stede’s support from the floor, gently pulled Izzy to standing. Immediately his legs went weak, and Ed had his arms back around him again. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, supporting his weight.

Frenchie was behind them then, clearing his throat. “Um… sorry to disturb. But, I’ll drive you all home. I didn’t drink anything. Everyone’s still giving their statements. Fang, Pete and Luce are going to lock up.” He offered a smile, that one that Izzy recognised every time he was hurting inside, but was pushing it aside for the sake of being able to get a job done. “Roach said he’ll come round in the morning and check in.” Ed had a feeling it wouldn’t be only Roach turning up tomorrow; something told him the entire lot of them would be wanting to come and see if Izzy was okay. But they could tackle that tomorrow. For now, he encouraged Izzy to loop an arm around his shoulders, supporting each step as Frenchie led them out to the car.

Izzy was still shaking as Ed settled him in to the back seat, pulling the seatbelt over to secure him in. He shut the door and wordlessly cast a look to Stede, before climbing in the other side of the back and buckling himself in to the middle seat so he was able to take Izzy’s hand and hold it tight.

He didn’t let go the entire way home. As he was releasing Izzy’s seatbelt after they pulled into the driveway, he could hear Stede offering for Frenchie to stay over. The musician declined quietly, with a gentle ‘Izzy needs all your attention’ falling from his lips that had Izzy’s face flutter ever so slightly into a smile.
Stede was at Ed’s side as they got him standing from the car, but Izzy’s legs instantly gave out on him. Two sets of arms wound around him to hold him up, and wordlessly Ed was lifting him, an arm under his knees and another carefully around under his arms, carrying him inside.

Izzy pressed his face to Ed’s chest, muttering something along the lines of ‘fuck sake, been a while since we’ve done this’ against him and Ed had to laugh gently, pressing a kiss to his head despite the tears that were welling in his eyes again.

Stede gave Frenchie more heartfelt thanks, waving him off before following them inside. Knowing Ed had taken Izzy straight upstairs, he took a moment to organise himself, keeping his breathing deep and solid to keep himself calm. He put food in Marmalade’s bowl, but she seemed uninterested, anxiously winding herself around his legs before padding to the foot of the stairs. She knew. Stede knew she knew. So he took her hints, picking up bottles of water from the fridge for them all, ice packs from the freezer and tea towels, a handful of snacks, some combination of crisps, crackers and dried fruit, and was rushing up the stairs two by two, the jangle of Marmalade’s collar hot on his heels.

Ed had done a beautiful job of preparing the bedroom for Izzy. Stede felt his chest swell with pride at the considerations he had taken. The main lights were off, the bedside lamps on their dimmest setting. He’d lit Izzy’s favourite candle, leather and salt, and the flame was dancing it’s rhythm over on the top of the dresser. He’d shaken the bedding out, fluffed up the pillows, pulled out the soft blanket Izzy had spent the last few days wrapped in, and had made a nest of pillows for him at the headboard. He was stood in the middle of the room, staring down at his bruised and cracked knuckles, unmoving, and Izzy was nowhere to be seen.

Stede cleared his throat as he entered the room, in a way that he hoped wouldn’t startle Ed. “Where is he?” he asked gently as Ed looked up. Ed gestured to the ensuite in the corner of the bedroom before looking back down at his knuckles.

“I fucking lost it, Stede. Shit… I know I shouldn’t have but… fucking hell, he was going for him?! Even then… even with all of us there… he was going for him?”

“I know darling,” Stede sighed as he placed the water, snacks and ice packs on the bedside before stepping up to Ed. He carefully took his hands, raising them to his lips and kissing over his damaged knuckles. “And I know I was holding you back but… I wanted to do the same.” He met his eyes again, giving him a sympathetic smile. “It was a perfectly natural reaction. No one can blame you for it. Not even the police.”

Ed laughed softly, sniffing a little. “Nah… they fucking understood. In the end didn’t give a shit. They were good guys…” He raised a hand and roughly wiped stray tears off his cheeks. “This is gonna set him back so much,” he breathed, the frown back on his face.

“I know, but we will help him back on the right path. Together, yeah?” He smiled at Ed’s slow nod, and leant up to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Izzy slowly pulled open the door to the bathroom, taking a step and then leaning against the doorframe, hanging his head when he saw what he had interrupted. “Sorry,” he whispered, eyes on the floor. He should go back to the guestroom. He didn’t want to disturb them even more.

“No apology needed, Izzy,” Stede tried to reassure softly as he pulled away from Ed and stepped over to him. He hated the way Izzy’s body language had regressed, right back to the previous week when he was stood hunched on their doorstep, asking for Edward, and so prepared to walk away when he thought Stede wouldn’t help him. “Come to bed?” Stede asked softly, holding out both his hands to Izzy.

Izzy raised his head again, looking at him with a level of disbelief that hit Stede so deep in the stomach it made him feel sick. “Really?” he whispered, like he hadn’t ever expected that again.

Stede frowned gently and nodded. “Really. This, what happened tonight, changes nothing Izzy. Not from where we’re standing.” Izzy looked past Stede to Ed, who had an unrecognisable mix of expressions on his face. He picked out worry, predominantly, and fear. The anger was still there, bubbling in the background. And there was something else. Maybe a slither of hopefulness? For what, Izzy didn’t know.

He had made Ed snap. His inability to walk away, to react. He couldn’t help but feel like he had caused Ed’s reaction. Deep down he knew that wasn’t true. CJ was solely responsible for every second of the events at the bar that night. But he still felt a deep-rooted guilt, shame, responsibility. He had envisaged Stede wanting to play the blame game, accuse Izzy of poisoning his perfect Ed, pulling him into the darkness, making him act like that.

He could only dream that they would still want him to hold, to cuddle between them, kiss him better.

Apparently he was still allowed that.

So he nodded slowly, shaking hands falling into Stede’s, allowing himself to be led slowly, carefully towards the bed. The pain had increased. He didn’t know how heavy he had impacted his already injured ribs, but as he settled back against the pillows, mostly upright (on Roach’s orders for now), the relief of the icepack being pressed against his skin made him think it was pretty bad. His eyes dropped closed as he felt two bodies settle either side of him. Seconds later, there was one hand on his inner arm, fingers running down slowly, and he turned his head to look at Ed with a distant, sad smile. Then there was another hand sliding into his, Stede lacing their fingers together slowly. His eyes fell shut again as two sets of lips landed on his skin; Stede’s on his shoulder, and Ed’s against his neck, over his jaw, seeking out his lips. When they finally made contact, Izzy couldn’t help the desperate, needy noise that escaped him. The hand that wasn’t clutching at Stede’s raised to tangle into Ed’s hair and he held him there, pressing back against the kiss, and totally against his better judgement, allowing himself to fall into the warm abyss that was Ed’s mouth.

For the first time since he had been in their house, for the first time in the three times Ed had kissed him since, Izzy allowed himself to /move/. He dragged his lips slowly against Ed’s, not caring that it left a small sting of pain as he did. He knew he whimpered again as Ed pressed closer, deepening the kiss more, parting his lips slightly and allowing it to become more open, more wanting.

He thought maybe it was such a bad fucking idea. But he needed it. He needed Ed.

The desperation for the contact, for the grounding, for the familiarity took over, and he pressed in harder, parting his lips in invitation and letting out a groan of satisfaction and want as Ed’s tongue slid against his. Fuck, it was beyond intoxicating, having him like that again. He gripped at his hair tighter, fingers landing on the hair tie holding it back from his face and pulling, releasing the waves. He pushed his hand back in to sweep it off his face, holding it back but holding him there at the same time.

Ed had abandoned caressing his arm in favour of cupping his jaw, his touch serving equally in holding Izzy into the kiss. The other hand landed above Izzy’s head, on the headboard, supporting himself to lean into Izzy even more without crushing him, despite how lost he was getting in the kiss, his subconscious still reminding him he couldn’t put weight against Izzy’s chest.

They tumbled together down into the void, lost in the moment, locked together and desperately trying to seek grounding from the other, desperately trying to cling on to the ounces of reality they had from one another, desperately trying to remind each other they were here and they were okay. It was okay.

Izzy’s fingers tightened in his hair once more, Ed's own groan was enough to break him from the spell, break him from the drug that was Izzy’s mouth, and pull back, breathing slightly ragged, knowing that probably his pupils were blown and his cheeks slightly pink and his hair cascading over his shoulders and messy and if he had let that continue for a second more he was at great risk of doing something he really shouldn't right now. Not because he'd regret it, but because the last thing he wanted to do was push Izzy too far too fast.

Izzy let his head fall back against the pillows, his own breathing elevated, his own lips pink and kiss-bitten, though miraculously it felt like the stitch hadn’t been disturbed and he wasn’t bleeding. He kept his eyes on Ed’s face, because shit he was gorgeous and open and vulnerable and everything Izzy needed in that moment.

Then he heard a soft laugh from the other side of him, and his head whipped around quickly to see Stede, who had witnessed the entire thing whilst still holding Izzy’s hand. He grinned sincerely at them both. “Is that what I look like after you kiss me like that, darling? Because that’s certainly how it feels.”

Izzy felt a swell of… he didn’t know what, run through him. He knew his cheeks had pinkened, knew he had done a terrible job of hiding just how much he wanted, no, /needed/ that. But in front of Stede? Idiot for letting that happen.

“Sorry,” he found himself breathing for the second time that evening, in close succession. Stede was quick to shake his head.

“Not necessary. If that’s what you need, Izzy, if that’s what you want, I won’t ever argue.” Izzy believed him. He fucking believed him. “In fact,” Stede continued, though his tone had altered, shifting to maybe a little shy, a little unsure. “If Ed hadn’t kissed you like that, I was going to…”

Well, fuck. What the hell was he supposed to do with that information?

Chapter Text

Izzy stared at him, the mild disbelief crossing his face. Disbelief mixed with curiosity, an eagerness, an awakened wondering inside his very core.

"Do it then," he challenged. His voice was still shaking. He didn't think, even if he did his absolute best, he could control half of himself right now. The adrenaline still ran through him, despite it having been hours. The fear, the trepidation for what was waiting for him in the dark was still sat heavy in his stomach. His body still wanted to run, to get away from any hand that came near him, to curl up in a dark corner and beg to never be touched again.

But there was Ed, looking at him with such wonder, with wide eyes and adoring gaze, having kissed him like /that/. Like he used to. Like he meant it.

And then there was Stede. Stupidly haloed in the light of the bedside lamp, looking up at Izzy all coy, under his eyelashes, fingers flexing against Izzy's hand, twitching, like he was holding them back from the invitation but they were so ready to move, of their own free will.

"I mean it, Bonnet," Izzy breathed, meeting his eyes. "Kiss me..."

He didn't know where his boldness had come from, where this audacity to demand had spilled to the surface from within. Maybe it was simply because he thought it wouldn't happen, because he suspected Stede would run a mile in the other direction, straight back into Ed's arms, with whispered apologies and begging for forgiveness. Or maybe it was because he had nothing left to lose now. Maybe that was too dramatic. But everyone has seen it. Everyone has witnessed his living nightmare, so who cared anymore. Even if he made a fool of himself now, it couldn't get worse.

So maybe that was where his bold, unwavering look came from. A total sense of 'fuck it'.

He expected Stede’s eyes to dart up, look right past him, settle on Ed with the silent question, to ask fucking /permission/. But shit, they didn’t. They didn’t leave Izzy. They remained defiantly on his face, trying to bore into his soul. And succeeding.

Then a hand landed on his cheek, gentle but purposeful, fingertips caressing carefully against his skin, mindful and avoiding the deeper bruises. And Stede was leaning in. Izzy’s brain had about three seconds to realise that this was really happening before soft lips were landing on his.

Lips softer than Ed’s. That didn’t make them better, it just made them… different. Stede used lip balm. That was no secret. Apparently it really made a difference. The softness was near angelic, and the way the slow drag of them felt like close to heaven had Izzy’s head spinning anew. Stede was leaning above him, just as Ed had, but it too wasn’t opposing or trapping. It felt right, to have him above him like that. Izzy wasn’t sure it was a conscious decision to tilt his head and allow the kiss to deepen, just as he had done with Ed. He thought it was maybe some kind of engrained, desperate need that took over. Stede very quickly got the hint, and seconds later warmth was enveloping Izzy’s mouth as Stede’s tongue chased where Ed’s was only minutes before and shit that was another whole level of intoxicating. A different kind of intoxicating that had a soft noise of need leave Izzy’s lips and spill into Stede’s mouth. He wondered if Stede could taste Ed on him… no, he’d need to curb those kinds of thoughts right now. He could get carried away.

Izzy’s hand had just landed in Stede’s hair, fingers slowly curling around the strands, when Stede was breaking the kiss and pulling back, his eyes wide and fingers twitching against his skin. Izzy stared back at him, unable to quite believe that had just happened, that he just did that. They did that. They really did that.

He didn’t know to do then. What the hell should he say to that? He had goaded Stede in to that, he had challenged him. Stede had accepted. Now what? Where the hell did that leave them? And, more to the point, why had Stede done that? Simply because he couldn’t live down the challenge? Or…?

That stupid fucking genuine smile was back on his face, one that Izzy used to want to punch off and now he had this stupid thing inside him that wanted to kiss it off instead. He felt Ed the other side of him again, warm, and pressing in to shoulder, dropping his head and leaving kisses down his neck, featherlight and gentle. Izzy was still looking up at Stede, fingers entangled in his golden curls.

“Don’t overthink it, Izzy,” Stede assured softly. “They’ll be plenty of time to talk it through, talk about what it means. Just right now… let us?”

“Let you what?” Izzy breathed, unable to decide if he wanted to lean more into Ed’s touch or swat him away like an annoyance at his side. He chose the former, his head tipping ever so lightly to allow for Ed’s lips and inadvertently moving back in to Stede as he did.

“Love you, Iz.” It was Ed that finished the sentence, despite the fact it didn’t look like Stede was faltering. Instead he was nodding, and he was drawing Izzy back in and shit Izzy was powerless to refuse. Their lips met once more, the kiss a little more chaste and fleeting this time, before Ed was wrapping his arms around him and encouraging him to lay, carefully, slotting back against him and curving his body around Izzy’s like a jigsaw piece. Stede lay facing him, their foreheads touching gently, just breathing against Izzy’s lips, a comforting rhythm that had him remembering it was Stede that sat with him to calm him down. It was Stede’s breathing that he followed to draw himself away from the panic attack. It was Stede’s hands on him that had grounded him, guided him back, made him safe again.

‘There’s plenty of time to talk about what it means.’

Izzy didn’t have a clue what it meant, in that moment. He didn’t know what he wanted it to mean. What he did know was he wanted it. Maybe that was enough for now?

It was late. He didn’t know how late, but it was late. They’d been at the bar a good few hours before it all went to hell. Then the police came. Then Frenchie drove them home. He’d had a panic attack between all of that. So no wonder he was exhausted, and desperate to succumb to rest as he curled up in the bed, between them both, but for the first time facing Stede. Despite his tiredness, his eyes were still wide open and looking up at Stede, so full of wonder and questions that he didn’t know where the start.

He could feel Ed’s fingertips tracing down his arm, gently, making patterns that even through his hazy head Izzy recognised as the patterns of Ed’s own tattoos. But Stede was looking back at him, eyes equally awake and alert, like he was thinking if Izzy was awake then he needed to be too. He smiled softly at him again. “Do you need anything?” he asked gently, reaching up to caress his hair back off his face, thumb grazing his cheekbone carefully.

Izzy shook his head. Just this. He needed this. Everything he had here. He felt he was being so greedy, overstepping, taking more than his fair share, but he just couldn’t stop himself now. Laying there in that haze, he never wanted to move.

He must’ve fallen asleep faster than he expected, but the next time he was aware, the nightmare was back. The same nightmare he’d had for the past week.
Every night, at the same fucking time. Or near enough.

He didn't know what part of his brain switched itself on at around 2 o'clock in the morning, but it went the same every time. The dreams would start just before. Dreams he knew weren't real. Dreams that slowly crept into his consciousness like a dripping tap into a plugged sink. He was a bystander, a watcher, no control. It simply washed over him, swirling, shrouding around his ankles and his wrists and /pulling/. He knew it wasn't real, he could feel it wasn't real. Yet every single emotion bubbling up inside him felt as deep as, as intrinsic, as breathing.

Then he was there. He was there and he was shouting, screaming, trying to grab at him, trying to pull him in. He always tried to desperately pull away, run the other direction, towards Ed and Stede who were stood just out of reach, watching, telling him he was safe with them and yet he couldn't get to them.

He was surprised he didn't wake them with the gasp of air he pulled into his lungs, the way he jolted from their arms, the way he had to immediately scrabble away to try and /breathe/.

Every night since he came to Ed and Stede.

Which in reality meant he was only getting three to four hours sleep a night. And he was too old for that shit.

He was trying his hardest not to disturb anyone as he padded around the kitchen. Marmalade had got up with him. Given she had taken to sleeping every night on his feet, it was a hard task to not wake her.

He’d been following the same routine; creep around the kitchen, make himself a tea, blankly stare at the fridge for a while before deciding he didn't want to eat, before collapsing onto the sofa. Marmalade would jump up next to him, sit for a minute and give him time to get himself comfy, before climbing into his lap, stretching herself across his thighs and purring softly.

He'd drink his tea, watch an episode or two (or five) of Friends before creeping back upstairs just before daylight to get back into bed, like he was never gone, to make sure they didn't notice.

Except tonight. Tonight he was half watching, half glaring at the brightness of the tv, hand buried in Marmalade's fur, caressing gently, when he heard a creak at the door. With a jolt, his eyes shot up, hand stilling, feeling the ooze of guilt that he'd been caught spread through him.

Ed leant slowly against the doorframe, crossing his arms over this chest. But then he looked. He ran his eyes over Izzy's face, the way he looked /scared/, the way the bags sat heavy under his eyes, the way he looked pale, the way he tensed, the way Marmalade slowly pulled herself to sitting in his lap, like she was guarding. He opted for a more open stance, uncrossing his arms.

"Hey, Iz..." he murmured softly. "You okay?"

"Sorry I woke you," he mumbled, casting his eyes down to the floor.

"You didn't baby. Stede did by elbowing me in the face... and then I realised if he'd done that, meant you weren't between us."

He nodded a little, scratching his fingertips down Marmalade's back.

"Can't sleep?" Ed prompted.

Izzy shrugged, then raised his gaze to Ed again. He could see how open his eyes were, deep brown chocolate, and reminded himself it wasn't Ed he was running away from.

"Every night," he replied quietly. "Its the same. I have the same nightmare. Wake up. Can't go back to sleep."

"You come down here every night?"

He nodded a little and shrugged again to try and show he wasn't bothered. Which he was.

"Try not to wake you..."

"You don't... which is why I'm surprised." Ed pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped forward slowly. "Want to talk about the nightmare?"

Izzy shrugged for a third time. "It isn't important."

"It's so important, Izzy." Ed's tone had his eyes rising again, and just /melting/ at the look he gave him. He believed him. Fuck he believed him.

"He tries to get me. I try to get back to you. I can't do either. He can't reach me, but I can't reach you... except tonight. Tonight… he got me.” He wasn’t shocked that the dream had shifted, now he had seen CJ again in person, now he had felt his calloused, cold hands grab him again. He wasn’t shocked that now the dream was trying to sabotage him even more.

Ed paused for a second in front of him before his body language softened even more and he stepped closer again. "Baby..." he breathed. "I'm sorry."

Izzy blinked up at him, trying to wipe the haze from his face. He wasn't used to having to converse at this time of the morning, half asleep and yet sleep deprived.

"Not your fault," he said quietly.

"Can I sit with you?" Ed asked, glancing between Izzy and Marmalade, who he felt may have been getting agitated at anyone else other than him or Stede in that moment.

"Yeah," he mumbled, beginning to shift to take his feet down off the sofa with a wince.

"No no, don't move. You don't need to move," Ed said quickly as he sat down next to him, half facing him on the sofa. “Why didn’t you tell us, Iz, we could’ve helped.”

“How?” Ed tried not to be hurt by the slight scoff, and the harshness of Izzy’s tone.

“Well… I dunno, mate. But you could’ve given us a chance to help…”

Izzy sighed and ran his hand over his face, rubbing his tired eyes. "I know, I know... I'm sorry..." he mumbled. "Was just... easier when you didn't know."

"About you not sleeping?" Even as he asked, Ed had a feeling he knew that wasn't what he meant.

"About all of it," he said quietly.

Ed nodded slowly, having to take a breath to make sure he didn't get angry. Not at Izzy. Never at Izzy. But at the fact he even felt like that. At the fact that even now Izzy felt it was easier to suffer in silence than to try and heal. He couldn't pretend he didn't understand, of course he got it. Having the same nightmare every night sounded only too familiar, and he knew how exhausting that was.

"Baby..." Izzy looked at him quickly. Using that pet name, with the way Ed always seemed to say it, had him instantly listening. He just couldn't help himself. "Come here?" He opened his arms to Izzy, eyes running over his face to try and gauge his reaction. He knew it was one of two ways, knew it was acceptance or run again.

Izzy swallowed hard, looking back at him, meeting his eyes, not actually wanting to break away from it. He wanted to tumble into his eyes, wanted to make a home there, be cuddled in and made safe. He wanted to curl up in his arms, yes, even if he felt he couldn't sleep. But Ed needed to sleep. Ed was a grumpy twat if he didn't sleep.

"You should go back to bed," he breathed with a frown, still holding his gaze.

"Not leaving you, Iz."

Izzy felt that as a punch to the chest. A good punch to the chest, not like any of them before. He had to stop fighting it at some point, had to accept that they really weren't going anywhere. He had to force himself to accept it before he could actually accept it.

He had to fucking start somewhere.

Gently, he wrapped his hands around Marmalade's middle and lifted her from his lap, placing her to his side on the sofa so he didn't squash her. He then crawled over, unable to help the wincing across his face as he moved, climbing into Ed's lap. Ed twisted as he did, slowly laying back so he was resting his head back against the arm of the sofa and stretching out. Izzy settled to lay between his legs and against his chest, curling up perfectly on top of him and tucking his face to his neck.

Ed raised a hand, running his fingers through his hair gently. "Try and rest, baby. We can stay here as long as you need."

Chapter Text

Izzy had finally fallen asleep. Ed dozed in and out of sleep, but it was more important that he kept an eye on Izzy. Every time he moved, even just an inch, Ed was dragging himself back to reality, back to awareness, smoothing a hand down Izzy’s spine and breathing gentle words into his ear, all in the hopes to keep him asleep. A few whimpers had escaped him, and on a couple of occasions, it took Ed’s soft words and gentle touch a few more attempts to soothe him. He couldn’t believe how stupid he felt. Once again, his inobservance had led him to be blind to Izzy. It was something that had to change, whether Izzy was in their bed or not.

He's fine, he’s Iz. That had always been his mantra.

That had only caused pain, as far as he could see. How had he not noticed that Izzy left their bed every night, seemingly for hours, to sit awake and alone in the cold living room, waiting for the shaking and the tears to pass? How could Ed have let him do that? Then again, Stede hadn’t noticed either, it seemed.

So Ed held him close. So close. As close as he possible dared. He soothed every single shift in his body back to sleep again, until daylight was streaming through the windows. He must’ve drifted off for a few minutes again, because he hadn’t heard Stede come down the stairs until the floorboard in the doorway to the living room creaked. Immediately his eyes flew open, landing on Stede, and before he could speak he was raising his hand and holding a finger to his lips, indicating to Stede to stay quiet.

“He’s needs to sleep,” he whispered, knowing his glare was a little more harsh than Stede deserved; he was an innocent bystander in all of this. But something in Ed had switched, something primal. Something intrinsic. After yesterday, after CJ had touched him again after Ed had /promised/ Izzy he never would, after he found out Izzy was still trying to deal with at least one element of this alone, after he’d witnessed Izzy fall apart all over again, this protective instinct had risen. Not even Stede was going to break through that right now.

Stede held his hands out carefully to show he understood, and that he was going to comply. “Have you been down here all night?” he whispered with a frown.

Ed nodded, a very small movement for fear of disturbing the sleeping man on his chest. “Nightmares. He’s come down here every night he’s been here. Alone.” The last word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it. He was angry. He was angry at himself for not noticing, and he was angry at Stede for not noticing too. “Don’t you dare disturb him. This is the longest sleep he’s had in ages.”

Stede nodded a little, the frown still on his face. He hadn’t seen Ed like this, he hadn’t expected Ed to be taking it out on him like this. He understood, but he was shocked. Something had switched in Ed, something deeply engrained. This possessive creature, protective and guarding. It was an unfamiliar shift for Stede.

He silently moved from the living room, going through to the back of the house to his office and standing at the doors. Taking a deep breath, he tried to consider how he was going to get around this. He’d only ever seen a darker side of Ed, a side that possibly he feared, just a little, once before. And that was at the bar one night, whilst Stede was there just hanging out (as he liked to do. He liked watching Ed work. He found it ‘sexy and commanding’ which was something Ed’s brain had short-circuited on initially, until he realised it was okay for Stede to be thinking things like that about him. From then on, he encouraged Stede to come and sit in work whenever he wanted). A fight had broken out, two drunk idiots, over something no one still to this day quite knows. Fang had stepped in, pulling them apart and moving to throw them out. Through nudging and shoving, a cascade of punches seemed to be thrown, ending up with someone being chucked against Stede who was innocently sat at the bar. Ed had lost it. He’d grabbed the offending thrower and thrown them out himself. Usually he didn’t get involved in such things; truth was he really hated the violence. But for Stede he didn’t seem to have an issue getting his hands dirty.

He'd pulled Stede into the office after, wanting to check every inch of him. /Every/ inch. He wouldn’t let anyone else near him then for the rest of the evening, insisting that he saw them through the busiest hour before escorting Stede home, a hand on him at all times, holding him close and giving a deathly glare to anyone that dared to come within two metres of them.

Stede had found it unbelievably hot then, if a little intimidating. Now it was just intimidating.

Standing looking out over the garden, it dawned on him he had never expected he would see Ed like this and not be the one on the receiving end of it. He’d never considered that he would be watching it from the outside, an observer, not being the focus of the attention. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, it wasn’t that he was jealous, he just didn’t know how to navigate it. He didn’t know how to break in, break through, if Ed was closing off like this. Closing off from him.

He pulled his phone from his pocket as it pinged, running a hand over his face and scrubbing his eyes for a second to /focus/. It was Roach, asking to come over to check on Izzy. He hadn’t wanted to touch him last night, yet another intrusion, but he was concerned what had happened to his ribs after another fall. He was promising to be quick. But he wanted to bring Fang, and Frenchie, and Lucius and Pete, who were all worried. Stede’s eyes widened at the message. That was just too much, too many people.

‘You and Fang or Frenchie. Or Lucius. But no one else. Ed’s not in a good place. Izzy is asleep’

He sent the response, took another deep breath, and turned to head back into the living room. He hovered in the doorway from the kitchen for a second, just looking in, eyes running over the three on the sofa. Marmalade was sat on Izzy’s legs, a constant weighted presence. Ed had his arms so tight around Izzy Stede was surprised it wasn’t hurting him and rousing him from sleep. Izzy laid against Ed with a frown contorted onto his face, so much so Stede wondered if in fact it was hurting him, but he was just so exhausted it wasn’t waking him.

“Darling… be careful of his ribs,” Stede reminded softly as he stepped in, slowly approaching the sofa. Ed’s eyes shot up to him, a dark frown forming over his face. Stede swallowed hard and stopped in his tracks. He didn’t like that…

“I know,” he muttered, but did seem to loosen his grip a little, and Izzy did seem to relax a little more then.

“Roach is coming over. He’s keen to check on him,” Stede murmured, his eyes immediately running over his face to gauge Ed’s reaction. Something darker ran through his eyes, clouding them a little, making them impossibly richer and deeper.

“He’s not touching him,” Ed muttered against Izzy’s hair, keeping his voice quiet and low which was only serving to make it even more menacing.

“Well, he’s going to have to, my love, he can’t check his wounds without touching him. And he needs to check his ribs weren’t damaged more.” Stede frowned. This was an emotional whiplash. Last night, Stede had kissed Izzy. And not just a quick brush of the lips. He had kissed Izzy in a way he had only ever really kissed Ed before, and maybe Mary. Once or twice. But certainly never anyone else. He’d kissed Izzy because he meant it, and he’d kissed him in a way that showed him he meant it. Ed had been right there. Ed hadn’t faltered once. Ed hadn’t told him to stop, or back off. And yet now… now it was like he was trying to shroud Izzy in a protective field.

“Don’t want anyone to touch him.” Stede felt his eyes fill with tears at the way Ed’s tone had suddenly switched, but he made a conscious decision to blink them away. His tone was suddenly sad. It was so /sad/. It was filled with tension and remorse and regret and everything he could imagine after last night, after CJ had got a hand back on Izzy again, even just for a second, that Ed had been drowning in ever since. Because he knew he had himself, so Ed must’ve been feeling that times a million.

“Ed, my darling,” Stede whispered, and risked stepping closer, up to the sofa, and dropping to his knees carefully next to them. “I understand. I do, I really do. But no one else is going to hurt him. It’s me, it’s Roach… it’s our friends. It’s people we trust. We know they aren’t going to hurt him.”

Ed wouldn’t look at him, eyes fixed down on Izzy, tears welling in them and tumbling down his cheeks, falling into Izzy’s hair, into the strands of black and grey. “I failed him again, Stede.”

“Oh Ed…” He reached out and took his hand from where it was resting on Izzy’s back, gently entwining their fingers and resting it back on Izzy again. “Darling, it wasn’t your fault. This was no one’s fault. Everyone was there. Nothing was going to stop CJ trying. We stopped him doing anymore. /You/ stopped him.” He actually thought at one point he was going to do more than just stop him. If John and Fang hadn’t been there, been strong enough to pull him off, Stede wondered if Ed would have actually killed him. Stede wondered if he would’ve let him…

Izzy was moving then, a groan leaving his lips, burying his face against Ed’s shoulder and stretching slowly out against him. Marmalade mewled gently as she half fell from his legs, jumping up onto the back of the sofa and strolling along it so she could sit above them, looking down over Izzy, like she was watching over him.

He fluttered his eyes open slowly, looking up at Ed. “Hi,” he mumbled, voice croaky and thick with sleep still. He raised a hand to rub his eye, and then winced, pulling it away when he remembered and turning his head to lay it against Ed’s chest, eyes falling on to Stede. “Oh… hi.” His tone had switched to soft surprise, like he hadn’t expected to be caught like that. He shifted back and tried to pushing himself to sit up, exhaling shakily as he planted his hands on Ed’s chest. His weakened arms shook from the effort, but with a gentle hand from Ed, he got himself sat up between Ed’s legs. Rolling his neck and wincing at the cracks, he rubbed across his tense shoulder. “Not the best position to sleep in,” he muttered, mostly to himself. But he’d slept. He supposed that was the main thing.

Izzy ran a hand through his hair to get it off his face (it probably needed cutting and Lucius will probably tell him as much the next time he sees him) before looking between them both, suddenly hyper-aware neither of them had spoken. Ed’s face was the midnight sky, deep and swirling. Stede was the embodiment of worry, directed towards Ed.

He felt his stomach drop. He slowly lowered his hand to come to rest back in his lap, crossing his hands and instinctively feeling his thumb press in to his tattoo on his ring finger.

Was this it? It hadn’t lasted as long as he hoped, but it really had been something…

“Okay…” Izzy breathed with a gentle nod, glancing up to Marmalade and feeling his chest tighten. It had only been a week, but he hadn’t considered how hard it was going to be to leave her as well. Best to try and avoid getting too sentimental about it. She’d hardly notice he was gone after a couple of hours. “You can just say it,” he mumbled, maybe a little harsher than he intended to. But he felt like a total fool for missing any signs they were giving him before. Despite what Stede said last night, about what happened at the bar changing nothing, he wouldn’t be shocked if they had decided now he was too much trouble. They didn’t need police knocking at their door, and the bar didn’t need that kind of reputation.

Ed’s eyes flickered with confusion and he was sitting up too, a hand on Izzy instantly, possessive but grounding. “Say what?” he prompted.

“That I need to go now.”

Stede frowned, glancing to Ed. The irony that Izzy had woken in the middle of a conversation that couldn’t have been further than that wasn’t lost on him. “Izzy, no. You don’t need to go. Not unless you want to?”

The glare Ed shot him with had Stede glaring back, just a little, with a ‘don’t test me, Teach’ look in his eyes. Two could play at the possession game if Ed really wanted to push it.

“Ed was only saying how he hated the fact you had dealt with the nightmares alone. Roach is coming round to check on your ribs and Ed just…”

“I don’t want anyone else fucking touching you…” Ed cut in, his voice low, and Izzy felt an involuntary shudder run down his spine. He didn’t know why he liked that. He shouldn’t like that. That kind of mindless possession was… dangerous. He could read it as not too many steps removed from CJ. Except it was Ed, so it was removed. So far removed. Ed wanted to protect him. Izzy wanted to be protected by him, more than anyone.

Izzy looked between Ed and Stede, eyes wide and uncertain, his hand creeping out towards Ed, resting on his arm. “Just… stay there while he does, okay?” Izzy mumbled softly, and if there was anything else to say on the matter it was cut off by the doorbell.

Stede gave the pair one final glance before he was on his feet and going to answer the door. Ed’s hand found Izzy’s, lacing their fingers carefully and squeezing. “The second you want it to stop, it stops,” he whispered, and Izzy found himself nodding before he could really process the words.

He looked up as Roach entered the room, Lucius a step behind him, both with smug grins on their faces that had Izzy’s chest filling with anticipation. What the fuck were they all up to now?

“What?” Ed questioned, eyebrow raised and a little on edge at the brazen way they were clearly so pleased with themselves.

“We were just telling Stede; Fang, Frenchie, Pete and Buttons are at CJ’s flat, getting your stuff, Izzy,” Roach grinned. "Frenchie is rather handy with lock picking apparently. He then looked to Lucius who had his eyes fixed down on his phone.

“Yeah… Pete asks if the goldfish is yours, babe?”

Chapter Text

Izzy’s hand gripped Ed’s tighter with the shock of what had just been declared to him. “They’re fucking… what?” he breathed, unable to quite believe they were braving that. But then it dawned on him. CJ was in a fucking jail cell. There was no way he could hurt them.

Ed was chuckling softly next to him, shifting closer to Izzy so he could loop an arm around his middle and hold him against his side. “Thank god for that, I was worried about your vinyl collection, Iz,” he teased softly, but soon caught himself when Izzy looked at him with slight disdain and he backed off. This was a big thing for him. He needed to get that.

“So they’re… how do they know what stuff is mine?” he mumbled, and he was looking at Lucius now because Roach was putting down the medical bag and kneeling to rifle through the things. Lucius slipped his phone into his pocket and look back at Izzy with a frown.

“It’s fine, they know. It’s pretty obvious…” He carefully walked over to Izzy then, crouching in front of him. Ed’s grip around Izzy tightened, making him wince, and Lucius found himself rolling his eyes despite himself. “Back off, Ed,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m not going to touch him.” Then his eyes softened as he looked back at Izzy. “They’re not going to do anything. I told them not to be stupid. They won’t do anything to make this harder. But you need your clothes. And your books, and vinyl. The shit that makes you happy.”

“But not here.” That wasn’t really what Izzy meant, but it was tumbling out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. “I mean… I can’t have the stuff here.” Ed’s grip was tightening again and Izzy squirmed.

Simultaneously, Ed was saying sternly ‘why can’t you?’ as Stede was saying ‘of course you can’ rather indignantly and Izzy just wanted to bang his head against a wall. Why was this seemingly so easy to everyone else and so hard to him.

“Can everyone just fuck off?!”

The room stilled. No one moved.

“Fine, I’ll fuck off,” Izzy muttered, standing with a wince and walking as quickly as his stiff limbs would allow out of the room. He needed a cigarette. Luckily he’d hidden Ed’s secret stash packet in the back of a kitchen cupboard, one that they stored the jars in, one that they didn’t go into very often. Quickly, and near silently, a skill he had honed living under CJ, he grabbed the packet and lighter from the cupboard and took himself outside through Stede’s office.

His hands were shaking as he lit the cigarette, feeling the relief wash through him as he finally took a deep inhale, watching the smoke tumble from his lips with a groan. There were too many people getting involved now, too many people taking liberties with his personal life. He could go to the flat and get his stuff, why did they feel they had to do it for him? And Ed, all wrapped around him and practically growling at anyone that came near him like some kind of alpha wolf protecting his pack.

He liked the slight possession, but there was a line.

“Got another one of those?”

Izzy looked around quickly to Lucius stood behind him, an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry if we’ve… got a bit carried away.”

Izzy found himself rolling his eyes fondly, holding out the lit cigarette to Lucius as he stepped closer. There was a brief smile flickering over his lips as Lucius took the cigarette from his fingers. Izzy pulled another from the box and lit it, pulling out a chair from the patio set and slowly sinking himself into it with a sigh as he exhaled the first drag of his new cigarette.

Lucius pulled out a chair and sat himself down next to him. “We didn’t think if we were overstepping. We just thought… it was best if you didn’t have to walk back into that flat again. Ever.”

“It’s not that,” Izzy admitted quietly, keeping his eyes fixed ahead as he took another deep inhale of smoke, feeling it work into his bones to relax him. “I don’t want to go back to the flat. Was just going to leave my stuff, if I’m honest.” Lucius raised an eyebrow, Izzy could /feel/ it. He ignored it. “It’s… this. All of this. Them…”

Lucius laughed gently, standing and scraping his chair around to place it in front of Izzy, forcing him to look at him. “Going to need more than that. Don’t go all mysterious and cryptic on me.”

Izzy let out a short chuckle. “Fuck off, Twatty,” he grumbled, filled with affection. He took another drag and sighed out the smoke, finally meeting Lucius’s eyes. “I kissed them.”

“Who? Them? As in…?”

“As in both of them…”

Lucius’s mouth was agape, and he slowly sat back to slump in the chair, not breaking eye contact with Izzy for fear of missing some kind of tell that he was having him on. But he really fucking wasn’t, was he?

“Both of them? In front of the other?”

“Kinda… Ed kissed me first. Stede saw, I think. Then, last night. Both of them. Ed, then Stede. With both of them in the room.” Izzy felt his cheeks heat a little at the absolute /smug/ look Lucius was giving him.

With a smirk, Lucius sat up and leant forward slowly. “Fucking hell, you dark horse. I assumed Ed, from the way he was all over you like a fucking rash. But Stede too?!”

“It’s not… it wasn’t…” He groaned after two false starts on his sentence, looking away from Lucius across the garden. “I don’t know what I was fucking thinking. But Ed kissed me… shit, Luce, he kissed me like he used to. Like when we were kids. Like he fucking meant it. And then Stede said this stupid shit about if Ed hadn’t have done it, then he would’ve. And before that /you/ were the last fucking person that kissed me like that and I just…” Once the confession started, he couldn’t stop. He only took a moment to take another inhale from his cigarette, casting his eyes back to Lucius again. “I was fucking desperate, I’ll admit it. Desperate to feel something /real/, something /nice/. And now they’re acting like I’ve moved in and I live here, and if I have my shit here too that’ll only make it worse and Ed’s acting like I’m his all over again and where the fuck does that leave me? And Stede for that matter!”

Lucius shook his head slowly, mulling it over, letting the words sink in, taking a drag from his cigarette and slouching back again in the chair. “Well, in love with Ed. Both of you. That much we know.”

“Well done Twatty, observation medal of the year,” Izzy muttered.

Lucius silently flipped him off before continuing. “And I know you like Stede. We’ve seen you with Stede. It’s easy with him now, right? Easy to enjoy his company. Easy to get along with him.” Izzy just nodded in affirmation. “Right so… kissing him isn’t a huge leap?”

“You asking or telling?”

“Dunno, I’m musing?” Lucius offered, smirking at Izzy’s eye roll. “Can I be brutally honest?”

“I have a feeling you’re going to be either way, so shoot,” Izzy muttered, raising the cigarette to his lips again.

“Anyone would be desperate for something like that in your situation. It isn’t odd, or stupid, it’s completely natural. And… well, if they’re both doing it in front of each other, they’ve clearly managed some amount of adult conversation about it at some point. I’m sure Stede is knocking some sense into Ed about this possessive thing as he we speak. As far as I can see, if you want it… just enjoy it. Fucking panic about it later.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Your brutal advice is ‘enjoy the moment, worry later’?”

Lucius smirked. “Yeah, I know, fucking unhinged.” He chuckled, raising the cigarette to his lips. “Doesn’t sound too shit though, does it?” he goaded, a glint in his eyes. And it really fucking didn’t. “Ed’s still so in love with you too, Izzy. He loves Stede just as much. But the lucky git gets to be in love with the both of you equally. Just because you couldn’t make it work before doesn’t mean you can’t love each other now. And Stede… well, he’s enough of a romantic idiot to make work whatever any of you want.”

Izzy had to look away again as Lucius’s words sunk in. Maybe he was fucking right. Maybe he just needed to stop panicking about something for once in his life and just let himself /live/. Shit, when was the last time he let himself /live/?

He’d fought for years at the beginning of his and Ed’s relationship. Fought to make enough money, fought to pay the bills, fought to keep his jobs. Then they fought for the bar, together, and succeeded. And just when they were done fighting for that stability, they had to start fighting for each other. And they lost. They lost that war.

Then he had to fight loneliness. He had to fight the desperate need to have Ed back. He thought he had got to a place, about a year ago, where he could see Ed was happy and that was okay. Then he had to fight for his fucking life in an abusive relationship. Now he could see he’d never really stopped fighting for Ed, deep down.

Maybe he was too tired to fight anymore. So maybe Lucius was right. Maybe he just needed to accept the love, accept the affection and the gentle touch and the kind words and the soft caresses. Maybe just for a bit, he needed to let himself fucking live in the moment. Even if the moment was going to end.

“Also, good to know I kiss like I mean it.” Izzy’s eyes darted back to Lucius and he couldn’t help the bright smirk that ran across his face.

“Oh fuck off, Lucius,” he muttered. Lucius threw him back a shit-eating grin and shrugged. “Hey, we had an amazing night. You missed your chance for more, what can I say…”

“You were fucking engaged. Besides… you only wanted to sketch me. Don’t pretend it meant anything else.” He put mock hurt in his voice, and Lucius’s laugh brought joy to the tightness in his chest. “And you’re far too young for me.”

“Nu-uh, you’re way too /old/ for me /me/,” Lucius bit back, laughing again as Izzy raised his middle finger to him, just as Lucius had done minutes before. Lucius sighed softly, slumping back in the chair again. “First time I’ve seen you properly smile in a year, Iz,” he said quietly.

Izzy felt his eyes glaze, and he dropped his gaze to the floor, letting out a shaking exhale of smoke from the final drag of his cigarette as he dropped the stub to the floor. It was only then he registered he was bare foot, as Lucius extended his leg to crush it under his boot for him.

He raised his eyes again, a tear tumbling down his cheek. “How do I just let this happen, Luce? How do I just… trust them to love me? To be gentle with me? To not hurt me again…”

Lucius could’ve sworn he felt his heart still in his chest at that statement. Izzy wasn’t that unguarded with anyone very often. Sure, he’d got a lot better over the years, broken down barriers, engaged with everyone more. In truth, he’d learned to fall in love with his chosen family, with something way bigger than himself. But he still kept his cards close to his chest. He’d put everyone else first, that was something that was obvious from the start. He’d pull extra-long shifts or stupidly long runs of days at the bar for the sake of someone else getting the days off they’d need. He’d be the designated driver for the sake of getting everyone home safe, and letting everyone else have a good time.

He'd give up fighting for Ed, despite being in love with him, so Ed could be with someone else.

To be that open and honest to Lucius, about something that he was feeling, was a sideway step he needed to catch up to, and fast.

“There’s no fucking easy solution, babe. You just have to take a deep breath and have faith.” Lucius leant forward again, dropping the last of his cigarette to the patio too and crushing it out before gently cupping Izzy’s cheek, thumb swiping away the tear. “You never stopped trusting him, you stopped trusting yourself. You deserve every single second of your life to be happy. You did before, but after what that’s prick has done to you, you definitely do now. So take a deep breath, communicate with them, trust them, but trust yourself too. If it feels right, it is…”

They sat like that for a moment, Izzy allowing his eyes to close against the touch and just enjoy having Lucius close for a moment. The peace was interrupted by a small commotion inside. Izzy could hear multiple voices, more than just Ed, Stede and Roach, and familiar voices too. He slowly opened his eyes raised an eyebrow to Lucius.

“Sounds like they’re back,” Lucius said with far too much glee, and was pulling his hand away slowly from Izzy, like he didn’t want to startle him. Izzy caught his wrist gently, rubbing his thumb carefully over the soft skin there.

“Thank you… Twatty,” he said, a smirk growing on his face at his last words. Lucius laughed softly, rolling his eyes before standing.

They both headed back inside to find boxes stacked in the entrance hall, and a procession of Pete, Frenchie and Buttons carrying more in.

Then Fang stepped through the door, holding the entire fish tank, water and fish and all.

“Fang… why did you…” Stede faltered in his question, staring slightly in disbelief.

“Well I couldn’t leave the poor little guys with that monster! They’d never get out alive. I had to save them, poor little fishes.”

Stede seemed to do an excellent impression of the fish in the tank himself for a moment, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before gesturing back to the kitchen. “In there then please, Fang,” he said, his tone projecting how unfazed he was with the whole thing. Izzy had to secretly smirk from where he was stood watching, leant against the wall. That man really would accept anything into his life, wouldn’t he?

Izzy scanned his eyes around the multiple boxes now being stacked in the entrance hall. Was that really what his life came down to? Was that fucking it?

Then Ed was at his side suddenly, making him jolt for a second in shock. Izzy looked up at him fast, unable to read his slightly sheepish expression as Ed looked back down at him. “Sorry I went all weird, possessive arsehole on you,” he muttered. “I just… you dealt with it alone. The night after I failed to protect you again and I just…”

Izzy shook his head and looked to the floor. “Can we not do this now, Ed. I… my life is literally out on display in your hallway and I don’t think the boxes should even be here so…” So Ed could have his crisis another time, was basically what Izzy wasn’t saying.

“They belong here, Iz. This is your home for however long you want or need it, in whatever way you want to live here.” Izzy looked up at him again then, preparing to retort, but Ed was shaking his head. “Stede and I have agreed. You stay as long as you want, whether that’s in the guest bed or our bed, kissing us or not kissing us, doesn’t matter. If you’re here, you’re safe.”

Izzy couldn’t help himself then. He was leaning in to Ed, wanting his arms around him, which Ed willingly obliged him with moments later, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “There’s all your records,” he said softly into his ear as Frenchie bought in the third box of vinyl. “Hey, where’s that gorgeous record player?”

Izzy winced a little, his eyes settling on all the music he hadn’t been able to play in months. “He broke it ages ago… I tried to fix it but it was too far too,” he sighed. He could practically feel Ed bristle with anger. Izzy had bought that record player with his first decent pay check, the first time they actually had some small amount of disposal income. He’d worked hard for it, and he loved it.

“Stede and I don’t have a record player,” he muttered, somewhat almost angry and sad at the prospect of not being able to offer for Izzy to use it whenever he liked.

Izzy didn’t reply. In the grand scheme of things it hardly mattered. He was watching his closest friends carry his life in boxes into his ex-husbands house. It just felt wrong.

He pulled away from Ed again, going up to one of the boxes and riffling through, checking that a few certain things were there. Certain things like his favourite books, a couple of small ornaments he had whittled a very long time ago, when he had the time and headspace to do things like that. And his marriage and divorce certificate. He didn’t know what it was that made him keep them, call it sentimentality. But he couldn’t get rid of either of them.

Just like he hadn’t got rid of his wedding ring, that sat tucked in his wallet, currently on the coffee table in Stede and Ed’s living room. That was the only thing he left the flat with that day. Surrounded by the boxes now, he was glad to have everything back. Now was just the business of navigating whether the hell he was staying or not.

Chapter Text

Everyone cleared out pretty quickly after brining the final boxes in. Roach had taken Izzy into the living room, alone (despite the way Ed was glaring at him as he led Izzy in), and had checked over his ribs. He’d asked again if Izzy would go and get an x-ray and was met with a flat refusal. He didn’t push. He knew he wouldn’t win that battle. He couldn’t feel any further damage though, and decided Izzy had been lucky to not fall too heavily. He’d given him more painkillers and told him to call if he needed him. Which Izzy promised he would. And he genuinely meant it.

Izzy knew Lucius must have had a quiet word in everyone’s ear about disappearing off as quickly as possible. Plus, the overwhelmed look on his face probably said it all. He thanked them all quietly but sincerely, and even let Frenchie give him a brief hug, before they were gone from the house as fast as they had arrived. Izzy was left standing in the hallway, staring down at the boxes strewn across the floor.

And all he could think was ‘what the hell now?’

“We’ll take the boxes of clothes upstairs to the guest room. You can use the wardrobe in there.” Izzy turned around fast to see Stede stood in the kitchen doorway, watching Izzy. Marmalade padded in from behind him, winding herself around Izzy’s legs before going to explore each box, giving the items inside soft sniffs.

“I don’t think… I haven’t decided if I’m staying,” Izzy replied honestly. Roach had a spare room. So did John. He could pay them rent, whilst he found a place of his own. “I’ve been looking at flats. There’s a couple in the city centre, near the bar. Reasonable rent.” He looked back down at one of the far boxes, smiling as he watched Marmalade actually climb inside it to get a closer look. “Roach said he’d have me there for a few weeks.” He looked back to Stede. “You and Ed need space. He’ll start getting angsty soon, without proper attention.” He smirked to show he was half joking, but only half, and tried to make light of it.

But there was some truth in it. Ed needed Stede, and the nature of his personality meant he needed more of Stede’s undivided attention than he was currently getting. Plus the obvious elephant in the room. With Izzy constantly there, and in their fucking bed, Stede and Ed hadn’t been intimate since he arrived. Not that he knew of anyway, though there was one morning where they seemed to be taking extra-long in the bathroom. Either way, that must’ve been driving them fucking crazy. “Maybe I could leave some of the bigger boxes here, to save space?”

He ran his eyes over Stede’s face, a frown dropping to his own as he tried to read his expression. “Izzy, I thought we made it clear we want you here.”

How the hell could he trust that? Lucius said he needed to take a deep breath and just have faith. Faith in what? He was a plaything in this relationship, surely? A welcome side-story. Something that they could pick up when it amused them and drop when they didn’t want him anymore.

“I don’t fit into your lives like that, Stede. How can I? Kissing Ed, kissing you… it was…” He loved it. He fucking loved it. It was all he wanted, to feel that wanted again. To feel that important, integral, to someone’s heartbeat. The way they had both held him close, stopped him pulling away too soon. Their lips on his, soft and warm, their hands holding him gently. The absolute fucking soul-enveloping meaning behind it. He loved every single second of it. “It was amazing.” He couldn’t lie. What was the fucking point in lying. “But it’s just fun, right? It isn’t going to go anywhere.” He didn’t have time for not going anywhere, not anymore. He’d made that decision days ago. He had to be alone now.

“What if it was?” Izzy blinked slowly at him, unmoving. What if it was going somewhere? Where the fuck could it possibly be going? “Will you come and have some breakfast? And maybe we can talk. Like adults. I’ve told Ed to behave like an adult…” He almost muttered the last part under his breath and it had Izzy smiling weakly. Lucius was right, he had given Ed a talking to.

“I’m sorry he started being like that with me,” Izzy mumbled, like it was his fault.

“Don’t ever apologise for his actions,” Stede retorted softly. “He knows what he did wasn’t right, and he knows why he reacted like that. And he knows to stop. Well, stop to that extent anyway. I sensed there was a part of you that didn’t completely hate it…?” Izzy felt a blush rise on his cheeks. Now was not the time to talk about that, in any of it’s multiple facets and meanings. “Just… come into the kitchen? He’s burning the toast as we speak…”

Izzy laughed gently as Stede’s words. Sounded about right. Then his eyes fell onto Stede’s outstretched hand. Lucius words echoed around his tired brain. ‘Trust yourself. If it feels right, it is’. He didn’t know what felt right anymore. He had been proven wrong on that so many times. Being with Edward felt right, until it didn’t anymore. Meaningless sex with basically strangers felt right until it didn’t anymore. Being with Jack felt right until it didn’t anymore. What instincts did he trust? How could he just give himself over to that again?

Except he had to, else he would never move forward. And in that moment, right then, after being wrapped in their arms, caressed by their hands, kissed by their lips, pulled from the darkness and held close and /saved/, he knew what was going to feel right.

And taking Stede’s hand felt /right/.

So he did. Izzy stepped closer, reaching out and gently slotting his hands into Stede’s, the warmth an instant comfort against his own cold hand. Stede was carefully clasping his fingers around Izzy, and for a second Izzy was sure he felt Stede’s fingertip gently caress over his tattoo on his ring finger, before he felt a gentle pull, and Stede was leading him into the kitchen.

Izzy noted the change in Ed’s demeanour the second he walked into the room. He was focusing hard on the simple task of buttering the toast, the concertation on his face clear. He’d pulled his hair back, tied it into a messy bun. Usually he’d be humming, or even muttering to himself about something. It was obvious he was focusing his brain on thinking and doing, so he would ‘behave’ himself. Honestly, Izzy knew a therapist would have an absolute field day with him and his undiagnosed ADHD which had always been blindingly obvious to Izzy and seemingly less so to everyone else, something that always baffled him.

Stede stepped up to Ed, a hand landing gently on his back. Izzy stood awkwardly for a second, fiddling with the sleeve of the hoodie he was wearing, noting how damn cold he still felt, before stepping up to the breakfast bar. Ed placed two slices of toast onto the plate before pushing it over to Izzy silently as he climbed onto the stool. Stede placed a mug of coffee in front of Izzy and went to sit next to him, trailing his fingertips over his shoulders gently as he passed him. It made Izzy shudder, watching him out of the corner of his eye. The urge to ask what he wanted was huge. He had to remind himself casual intimacy without motive was literally Stede’s thing. He wondered if he would ever get used to that.

Ed stayed standing the other side of the breakfast bar, eyes darting between them. “Look, someone fucking speak…” he muttered eventually.

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “You could start?” he retorted. He didn’t quite mean it to come out as harsh or accusatory, but if Ed wanted to talk, he needed to lead the way. They held eye contact for a second, and Izzy tried not to challenge him. It immediately felt all too familiar; Izzy trying to extract Ed’s real thoughts from him whilst he grappled with his own. This was what he had feared would happen…

“I really want you to stay, mate.” Okay, a decent start. That was better than it had been before. “And if you want to look at a flat for… for in the future, or whatever, then sure. Though didn’t you want to buy your dream house.” Ed noticed the drop in Izzy’s gaze and didn’t push. Issue for another time. “But… but you don’t have to. Like, not immediately, right? Take some time. Figure out what you want. There’s literally no rush.” Izzy looked back up at him again, eyebrow raised.

“You mean just stay here? For how long?”

“For however long you want,” Stede chipped in. “Weeks. Months. More if you want. Until you can buy a house or find a really nice place to rent or… or not…” The looked that Ed sent Stede’s direction wasn’t missed by Izzy. It was a mixture of hopefulness and yet worry, worry that Stede was pushing it too far. So he tried to retreat. “What I mean is, just stay Izzy. For a while. Heal. Clear your head. Then make a decision.”

Izzy looked down at the toast, pulling away a crust and beginning to eat. He really needed to start eating properly again. Along with not being able to work out for a while, he was going to lose his strength. He’d hate it if he lost that.

“I could stay a while, yeah. Whilst I figure it out. But… not in your way. You guys… well, you’re a fucking couple. You need to do couple shit. Like go on dates. And…” Fuck it, there was no point in being coy about it. It was obvious to them all. “And have sex. You can’t do that with me clinging like a koala to you both in bed.” He tried to pass it off with a smile, but it sort of hurt to say it. He realised he was being a clingy idiot now. The second someone showed him kindness and he was all over it like a limpet. He needed to ween himself off it, else it wouldn’t end well when he just walked away and had nothing again.

Another look passed between Stede and Ed that made Izzy raise an eyebrow. “I’m not going to pretend to understand the whole kissing thing. I appreciate that you’ve been kind to me, and gentle and whatever the fuck else but… your relationship doesn’t involve me.”

“What if we wanted it to?”

Izzy’s eyes snapped to Ed, a quizzical look on his face. “Fuck off, Ed, we’re too old for games like this. We did the you and me thing, it didn’t work. I don’t… I never stopped loving you, no fucking surprise, but this is your life now.” He glanced to Stede, who’s eyes were fixed to him. “You’re both…” Fucking hot? Amazing people? Really just exactly what Izzy wanted to be sandwiched between every single night? “But let’s be realistic…”

“We are,” Stede replied matter-of-factly, before sipping his tea and taking a bite of his toast so casually it made Izzy wanted to hurl the tea cup out of the fucking window. “The realistic part of it is checking where you stand with it.”

“With what? Don’t be fucking cryptic Stede, it isn’t a good look on you,” Izzy bit back, getting a bit irritated with what he thought were mind games now.

“Fine, then I’ll be to the point.” First time in his life, Izzy thought. “What if we wanted to… what if we wanted you in our house as more than a friend? What if we wanted to kiss you again, and keep kissing you.” Izzy narrowed his eyes at Stede before dropping them back down to his toast, nibbling on the end of the crust. Okay, left field. He hadn’t seen that coming. Except he really had, if he’d let himself be honest, which he really wasn’t going to because that was just too hopeful. To have Ed back in his life like that… incredible. For it to involve Stede too, he could totally get behind that. Just way too good to be true.

“Stede… I have broken ribs, countless bruises and cuts. My internal body temperature constantly feels about minus five. Everything hurts. I haven’t eaten properly in weeks. I’ve got to make a statement to the police about the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, and Edward is looking at me like I’m a fucking china doll about to shatter…” He shot a look to Ed that said ‘oh yeah, I see it, don’t go thinking I don’t’ before turning his gaze back to Stede again. “What I want right now just… well I’m not going to be thinking clearly, am I?” Because he wasn’t. Because what Stede just said sounded like fucking heaven on Earth, something Izzy just hadn’t experienced and wasn’t sure he deserved. So he wasn’t thinking straight. Right?

“Then we stay as we are, just like this, until you can think clearly,” Ed offered quietly.

“That isn’t realistic,” Izzy mumbled, and forced himself to take another bite of toast. He was so hungry, finally regaining his appetite. He wanted to eat. He needed to. It still felt laborious but at least he didn’t feel as sick.

“Why isn’t it?” Stede asked genuinely.

Izzy didn’t have an answer. At least, not one that would satisfy Stede to stop pushing. So he remained silent.

He noticed that Stede and Ed shared a look yet again and he couldn’t help the sigh that left him. That was exactly the point. They were them, together, and he was just him.

“Mate, let us unpack some of your stuff. Let us settle you in for a bit. And then… just… whatever comes naturally, yeah?”

Izzy couldn’t help his audible scoff. There was a lot that came naturally when it came to him and Ed. Like fucking it up. He didn’t want to fuck up his and Stede’s relationship too. But he had to be logical here. He had nothing now. Somewhat luckily, nothing at the flat was in his name, he just funnelled money to CJ monthly. So he could just walk away from that and it not be his issue. But that meant he was left with nowhere to live and nothing to show for anything. His only option right now, realistically, was to stay here. He’d just have to… fucking control himself.

“Fine…” he mumbled quietly and cast his eyes back down to his toast. He’d been so hopeful when he spoke to Lucius. Why was it he could be so honest and candid with him, and struggle like hell when in front of Ed and Stede. Why couldn’t he just express how fucking terrified he was?

They ate in silence until Izzy cleared his plate, glancing up to Ed. “Can I have a shower?” he asked quietly. “Now I have my clothes.”

“You don’t have to ask, mate,” Ed muttered back, somewhat off-hand, so much so the look Stede shot him had him consciously softening his features. “Use whichever bathroom you want. I’ll bring up your clothes,” he retuned instead, trying to take back his previous tone.

Izzy silently nodded, sliding off the bar stool and walking away quickly from Ed’s snapping words.

“He doesn’t need to ask fucking permission,” Ed muttered when he was gone, his irritation clear.

“Maybe he does, just for a bit, until he realises he doesn’t,” Stede offered softly. “Ed, dear, I’ve said it before. He has a whole different mindset for us to be aware of now. The old Izzy that you knew, that you lived with before, he’s still very much there. And you will have him back soon. But right now… right now we need to assure him he’s safe. With everything, big and small.”

Ed sighed, pushing his hair back off his face and standing. “Yeah… I guess.” He walked slowly towards the hallway to organise the boxes, stopping in the doorway and glancing back at Stede. “I wish they hadn’t stopped me, Stede,” he muttered darkly.

Chapter Text

Izzy desperately needed some clearer headspace, and he needed some time alone. He took himself to the guest bedroom, undressing quickly so that Ed didn’t come into the room whilst he was doing so. Yes, Ed had seen him without anything on last week. That was different. He didn’t want him to see the aging bruises or that scarring cuts. He didn’t want him to see the scars from the other times – that was something he hadn’t noticed the first day and he was so thankful for it. He’d have to have that conversation with the police, he didn’t need it with Ed too.

He turned the water up hotter than Stede would probably let him if he was there to fuss and stepped under it, letting it tumble and cascade over his sore body. He’d had a quiet word with Roach, when they were finally left alone and was not shocked but still disappointed to hear it just wasn’t going to stop hurting anytime soon. Like a constant reminder.

Without really registering, he was sliding down the tiles, seating himself in the bottom of the shower, the water hammering down onto him. He didn’t know if it was soothing or overwhelming so he just stayed put.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed to him, in his own brain, that he was back and forth between accepting their affections and pushing them away like a fucking ping pong ball. No wonder they were constantly pushing, constantly checking, constantly affirming. He had to draw a line in his own head, about how far he was going to let this go.

Except he didn’t want to draw a line. He didn’t want to have to make himself stop again. The way they had kissed him was beyond anything he thought he was going to experience again. He didn’t imagine he was ever going to have that from someone after all of this. Kissing Ed was so safe and familiar and yet still just as beautiful as it was at the beginning. Kissing Stede was new and exciting and yet still felt equally safe, like home. And it shouldn’t, it really shouldn’t. It should be dangerous and littered with false hope.

There was nothing false about the way either of them had kissed him.

What if he did just let it happen? What if he took Lucius’s advice and just enjoyed the moment, for now, until breathing no longer hurt and his head no longer spun and he didn’t feel like he was bracing at every hand raised to him. Then he could think about it, logically. What if, just this once, he let himself believe the good was going to continue to be good?

He raised his head at the soft knock on the door and frowned. He went to move, to stand, to shut off the shower and grab a towel. He swore under his breath at the strain on his chest and crumpled back again, collapsing into the wall. Idiot. He hadn’t even really registered he was sinking to the floor until that moment, and he must’ve been sat there for a good few minutes.

Fuck. Now he had to let them come in.

“It’s unlocked,” he called over the noise of the shower, part of him praying it was Ed that was about to walk through the door. At least Ed had seen him naked before, countless times. There was a slither of him that almost wanted it to be Stede though, and he didn’t know what that part of him that was but it was intriguing.

Sure enough it was Ed stepping through the door, frowning as his eyes fell on him. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t fucking collapse, Edward,” he muttered. “I just… sat down. But…”

Ed couldn’t help the soft laugh leave his lips. “I would make an old man joke about not being able to get back up again, but I don’t think that’s fair.” He hesitated at the edge of the shower for a second. There was no way he was getting in there and helping Izzy up without getting soaked. Even reaching in to turn off the shower would get him doused. So fuck it, in for a penny…

He stepped back again and tugged off his t-shirt, discarding it to the side. Izzy raised an eyebrow as he then watched him push down his pyjama bottoms, underwear following quickly. Izzy just couldn’t help himself. His eyes raked up and down Ed’s body, so familiar and yet it had been so long it felt brand new as well. There were a couple of new tattoos that Izzy had known Ed was having but hadn’t seen, given their placement on his upper thighs and lower stomach. And yeah, shit, he did still very much work out, that much was obvious. His golden skin practically fucking glowed. Izzy was more than aware he was staring as Ed stepped into the shower, sweeping his hair back and tying it into a messy bun with the hair tie he seemed to always have around his wrist now.

He crouched in front of Izzy, resting a hand on his knee. “Want to get out or stay a bit longer?” he asked softly as the water fell onto his back, shielding Izzy a little from it and quickly dampening his hair.

Izzy felt himself swallow thickly. What kind of a fucking question was that? When presented with your ex-husband, who you are still very much attracted to, and still very much in love with, and very much naked in front of you in a shower, you don’t ask to get out straight away.

Unless of course there was the added complication that said ex-husband’s current partner was in the next room.

“Kissing’s one thing. Isn’t this…” he begun but trailed off. He didn’t exactly know what he was meaning. Too far, was probably it, but that sounded immaterial to how it actually felt. What it felt like was the potential for it to be a huge betrayal.

“Stede knows I’m in here,” Ed replied.

“He knows you’re in the room, Ed. That’s different to where you actually are right now.”

“Would you feel more comfortable if he knew?” Ed asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Wouldn’t you?” Izzy retorted quickly, challenging him back. How could Ed know this was okay?

“Stede?!” Ed called, making Izzy’s eyes widen. Ed hated the fear and panic that settled onto his face as he called Stede’s name. He gently placed a damp hand on his cheek. “Hey, no… none of that. It’s okay,” he reassured gently. Izzy’s eyes darted to the door as it was pulled open and Stede leant into the room.

“Yes, darling? Oh…” The exclamation was gentle, and despite searching and expecting, Izzy heard no anger in it. He met Stede’s eyes, a guilty look on his face once more, just how he had looked every time he had kissed Ed.

“This okay, babe?” Ed asked, keeping his voice gentle but loud enough to hear over the falling water, and keeping his eyes fixed on Izzy, who’s eyes were fixed on Stede.

“Absolutely,” Stede replied, the breath catching in his throat a moment. Izzy watched a flicker of emotion run across Stede’s face, one he couldn’t identity as jealously or hatred. In fact, he couldn’t identify it as anything negative at all. “If you need anything, I’ll just be in here,” he said quietly before stepping back out again, closing the door.

Izzy’s eyes landed back on Ed, wide and completely lost with disbelief. “I thought he’d…”

“No,” Ed cut in gently. “He wouldn’t. It’s all fine,” he promised gently. “The only boundary here is what you’re comfortable with.”

“I don’t know,” Izzy replied honestly. Ed was so close. He could reach out and touch him if he wanted, whenever he wanted, and he knew he could. He knew there was unsaid permission given. But he didn’t. What would that even mean? What would that lead to?

“Can I help you stand up?” Ed asked quietly, and Izzy gave a silent nod, watching as Ed shifted back and offered his hands. “Careful, don’t slip. Let me take your weight.” Izzy placed his hands in Ed’s. He himself put no effort in, allowing Ed to pull him to his feet carefully, resting him back against the tiles. Ed kept hold of his hands, letting the contortions of pain melt from Izzy’s expression before he let go, raising one hand to rest on his cheek. “Okay?” he asked gently, and all Izzy could do was silently nod again. He couldn’t help the way his eyes dropped down across Ed’s body, following the planes and muscles, the inked skin. The years really hadn’t done him dirty. There was a pathetic, bitter part of Izzy that hated that, especially stood in front of him bruised and scarred.

He kept his hands firmly to his sides, afraid of what he’d do if he dared raised them. “This isn’t fair, Ed,” he found himself breathing, watching a droplet of water that ran down the side of Ed’s face, down his neck, settling in the hollow of his collarbone. Shit, he wanted to lick it away…

“On who?” Ed asked, leaning in closer, the hand that was on Izzy’s cheek coming to rest on the wall next to his head.

“On me, you twat… you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”

Ed chuckled softly. God, Izzy recognised that noise. It was like honey, golden and oozing, tumbling, sweetening every sense. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Fucking hell.

Izzy was certain it was mere instinct he was acting upon as he tipped his head, leant forward just a little, closed the distance and collided their mouths. This wasn’t like before. This wasn’t the gentle desperation from the kiss last night. This wasn’t Izzy testing the waters, to see if he was allowed. This wasn’t his pliable side, his beaten side, the side that had been moulded into submission by pain. This was something else.

This was pure fucking need.

His hand was in Ed’s wet hair moments later, gripping, forcing him closer. Without a second thought, the hand that wasn’t supporting Ed from crushing Izzy against the wall was sliding up his chest, pushing through the droplets of hot water that laid on his skin, coming to rest at the base of his neck, fingers curling around his shoulders.

That should have been terrifying. That should have forced a hurricane of bad memories into Izzy’s consciousness. But it didn’t. It was Ed’s hand, Ed’s hand that had been there a million times before, Ed’s hand that had always touched there, whenever they kissed like this. It was Ed. And he trusted Ed.

Then a weight was being pressed against him as Ed slotted his body against Izzy’s, pressing in, and Izzy’s other hand was grabbing at his waist, his hip, tugging him closer, desperately trying to get every inch of Ed’s skin pressed against him. It hurt, but he didn’t care.

The kiss was growing even more ragged; teeth and tongues, sloppy and familiar, a rhythm found, tucked away in case it was ever needed again. Evidentially it was.

Izzy felt the stitch come away, felt his lip split, just as Ed was rolling his hips into Izzy’s with a desperate groan, and that’s when reality came slamming back into him like a tidal wave.

Izzy broke the kiss, feeling the metallic taste of his own blood linger on his tongue. He planted a hand on Ed’s chest, firm, pushing carefully. “I can’t…” he panted.

Ed looked down at him with blown pupils and mussed hair and shit, he had been so stupid. So, so stupid.

“Fuck, Iz… I’m sorry… I didn’t…”

Izzy shook his head quickly to silence him. “No, you haven't… I wanted…” Fuck. He raised his eyes to meet Ed’s. “Apparently that’s my boundary,” he breathed and Ed nodded quickly in understanding.

“Yeah, okay,” he affirmed gently, resting his fingers under Izzy’s chin and swiping his thumb under his bottom lip to collect the blood that had settled there. “You need to heal first,” he murmured.

“And you need to talk to your boyfriend,” Izzy retorted with a raised eyebrow. Again, kissing was one thing, Ed innocently in the shower with him (innocently? Who the fuck were they kidding with that?) was another thing. But that… Stede could be okay with everything else but be well within his rights to be a firm no on that… Izzy wasn’t even sure he was a yes on it himself.

Ed let out a shaky exhale and nodded. “You’re right,” he agreed, taking a step back. He cleared his throat, pushing his hair off his face before chuckling gently. “Not really what you came in here for, I guess?”

“No, Ed, I came to have a shower and some fucking peace for five minutes,” he smirked.

With a soft laugh, Ed leant in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll leave you to it then. Unless… do you want me to wash your hair? Like we used to…”

Izzy felt a spark rise in his stomach, blossoming into his chest, encompassing him in a warmth he hadn’t felt in so long. Too long. “Yeah… okay,” he murmured with a smile.

Once they concluded Izzy was comfortable standing for a little longer, they settled just out of the fall of water from the shower head. Ed had his hands buried in Izzy’s hair, slowly lathering the shampoo, fingertips massaging carefully into his scalp. Izzy’s eyes had dropped closed, one hand bracing himself against the wall and soft groans leaving his lips. He hadn’t been taken care of like this in so long, he was powerless to be anything else other than putty under Ed’s fingers.
There was a gentle hand on his side, and Ed was manoeuvring him back into the flow of the water, resting a hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the suds and using the other to wash the shampoo away. Once it was fully rinsed, he raked his fingers slowly back through it, still stood behind Izzy, ducking his head to drop a kiss on the back of his neck. Izzy visibly shuddered and Ed chuckled gently.

“Sorry,” he murmured without meaning it at all. Izzy slowly turned to face him, his expression a little misty. He was totally wrapped up in the haze of Ed’s touch, and he couldn’t stop that showing all over his face.

Ed cupped his jaw, titling his head up a little more to meet his eyes. “You okay?” he asked quietly, frowning a little at how quiet Izzy had gone. Had he pushed it too far?

Izzy just nodded, taking a moment to come back to himself. “Just… been a really long time,” he said quietly, before dropping his head forward to rest his forehead on Ed’s chest.

Sighing quietly, Ed pressed a kiss to Izzy’s wet hair, dragging his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know. But it doesn’t have to be anymore,” he promised gently. “Come on, don’t think you should stand much longer.” He switched off the shower and lead Izzy back out again, wrapping a towel around him and sitting him carefully on the edge of the bath whilst he dried himself. He quickly pulled his underwear and t-shirt back on, opening the bathroom door to let some of the steam and warmth out.

Izzy’s eyes landed on Stede as the door opened. He was happily organising Izzy’s vintage band tee collection and he couldn’t help the smile on his face at his absolute joy in the task. The man was an enigma Izzy thought he would never really figure out.

With Ed’s arm around him, he stood again and headed back into the bedroom. Stede’s expression turned a little more serious as he put down the hanger he was holding. “The police have called. They’re going to need your statement today.” Izzy stilled in his movement towards the bed, dropping his gaze and nodding.

“Okay, do I have to go to them?” he asked quietly. He didn’t know if that was better or worse mentally.

“No, they will come here, if that’s what you want,” Stede replied quietly. “And they said we can sit in, if you want. Either of us, both of us, whoever you like.”

Izzy looked back up at him again with a slight frown. Did he want that? Shit, there was no way Ed and Stede could hear the full extent of this. There was no way he wanted to /let/ them hear it.

But he really didn’t want to do it alone.

He glanced up at Ed as he let go of him. Ed’s eyes were trained on him, darting over his face, and Izzy knew he was reading every line of his expression, taking it all in. Izzy was pretty sure he could tell what he was thinking.

“I can be there if you want. But if you think it’s easier, I’m sure Stede will sit in with you instead.” He knew. Fucking hell, he knew. Izzy instinctively reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. If he had ever been worried that years apart had changed the way they intrinsically understood each other, that had been wiped away in seconds. Ed knew Izzy didn’t want him to hear everything. He knew it would be easier if it was Stede, someone less emotionally involved. So he looked up to Stede, a quizzical look on his face. Stede had every reason to say no. Why would he want to put himself through that?

Stede looked back at him with a defiant expression. “If you want me there, Izzy, I will happily oblige.”

Chapter Text

It was nice to get back into his clothes, his own clothes. Izzy wasn’t a particularly adventurous dresser, though he did have a few certain items he always wore to the bar, like the black shirt with the billowy sleeves and his favourite leather jacket. He’d got more creative with age, found more of a style, his style. There were pieces of his wardrobe he would genuinely have been sad to have lost. Stede complimented the exact pieces he was thinking of as he hung them up in the wardrobe, averting his eyes respectfully when Ed helped Izzy into underwear, jeans and a t-shirt, making sure it was soft fabric against his skin.

Stede had forced the conversation, about the environment Izzy wanted to speak to the police in, and despite how uncomfortable it was at the time, there was something about it that was paying off as he settled down to wait for them. He’d chosen in the living room, with as much light and fresh air spilling in as possible. He’d wanted Marmalade there, but had laughed at the thought and said of course he couldn’t control that. But sure enough she hadn’t left his side, sat on the sofa next to him in her second favourite sun patch (the first being in Stede’s office). Stede had made him a snack beforehand, made him a cup of tea, and had settled him carefully onto the sofa with an ice pack on his ribs. Ed had gone to answer the door when the police had arrived.

“Do you want me sat next to you? Touching you?” Stede asked as he heard voices enter the house.

“Next to me but… don’t touch. Not unless I do,” Izzy mumbled, surprised by how easily he found it to lay out his boundaries. There was just something about the way Ed and Stede asked, so openly and so often, that made him comfortable with it, in a way he never had been before.

Two officers had arrived to take the statement, and Ed had politely made them cups of tea. Izzy could clearly see the worry in his expression as he hesitated in front of him for a second. “I’ll be just in the next room,” he said quietly, trying to give him his best reassuring smile. He left a kiss on Stede’s cheek, then one on Izzy’s forehead, before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The second the questions started, Izzy’s hand landed on Stede’s. He thought he’d last longer than that. He certainly hadn’t expected to make it through the whole thing, but he thought he would get past the ‘when did you meet him?’ part at least. But Stede gripped back gently, a solid presence, hoping he was giving Izzy the strength to continue.

Ed had never paced so much in his life. He had his computer on, pretending to work, pretending to look at new suppliers for the stock after Izzy had spectacularly fired the other company. That felt like so long ago now… it had only been just over a week. A lot had changed in that time. A fucking lot.

He sunk back onto the stool at the breakfast bar, taking a deep breath. It was shit, but a lot had changed for the better. He had his Iz back, right? He /was/ back, wasn’t he? He would stay?

His eyes shot up to the closed door between him and the living room as he heard Izzy’s voice break half way through an answer. He could hear the tears, he could hear him crying. Stede was there. He kept repeating to himself quietly that Stede was there, helping him, holding him.

Now Ed could hear the sobs, hear the cracked voices, hear how much Izzy was struggling. He wanted to break the fucking door down. He wanted to march in there, scoop Izzy up in his arms and carry him away. If this wasn't so important, so necessary, he would've in a heartbeat.

Take a breath. Stede was there. Stede has him. He trusted that Stede had him.

But shit, how bad could it possibly be? How could it be worse than what Ed already knew, if Izzy didn't want him to hear? Maybe not knowing was worse?

Fuck, maybe it was worse.

He was on his feet again, at the door, his hand hovering over the door handle. No. Stede was right, there was a whole new level of trust they had to build again now. He had to respect any boundaries Izzy put in place, else he'd never get him back.

He trailed his hand away from the door again, forcing himself to step away. If he listened, really tried to listen, he could probably hear what they were saying. He couldn't do that to Izzy. So he forced himself back to his laptop, sat himself down, and told himself to get a fucking grip.

Clock watching wasn't usually his thing. He was usually too distracted in his own damn head to clock watch. But the minutes ticked by and they still weren't done. They'd been over an hour now. Now he could hear Stede's voice, and it was his soothing tone that Ed recognised when he talked him out of a spiral and shit that meant Izzy must've been really needing it.

Ed was on his feet again. Fuck this, he couldn't just sit there and listen.

Then he heard the door from the living room to the hall open, and Stede's voice floating from the hall, seeing them out. Ed stepped through from the kitchen into the hallway, watching as the police officers left the house. He was rushing to the living room door seconds later, but Stede's hand landed on his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.

"Slowly, love," he said quietly, his voice a little shaky and holding a tone that made Ed frown deeply. Shit.

He looked through the doorway to see Izzy hunched on the sofa, hand buried in Marmalade's fur who was curled in his lap, lapping at the back of his other hand. His eyes were fixed to the floor, just staring, hardly blinking, silent tears still tracking down his cheeks. Ed glanced at Stede, unable to hide the anger and horror on his face.

“What did he say…?”

Stede just shook his head. “I wish they hadn’t stopped you last night either,” he muttered, voice darker than Ed had ever heard it before.

Ed took a second longer to take in Stede’s expression before he was slowly making his way to Izzy, crouching in front of him. He begun to reach out a hand, but then made the conscious decision to stop. That seemed smarter right now.

“What do you need?” Asking if he was okay just seemed pathetic, and stupid. Because obviously not. But if Izzy could verbalise what he wanted, what he needed, Ed would do anything in his power to make it happen.

Izzy’s eyes snapped to him quickly, like he’d been pulled out of a trance, and he blinked slowly at Ed as his mind restarted again. “Nothing… I’m fine,” he said quietly. He absentmindedly moved his hand to stroke Marmalade in his lap, his fingertips catching her collar and making the bell jingle gently. When Izzy practically jumped out of his fucking skin at the noise, despite the fact he caused it, Ed’s frowned deepened.

“You can tell me, Iz. Anything you need at all,” he promised gently, searching for something, anything, in Izzy’s face to give him a clue.

“Can I stay?” Izzy whispered, his eyes distant as they looked between Ed and Stede, who was making his way back into the room himself, standing a little behind Ed.

“What do you mean, baby, you know you can stay,” Ed frowned, glancing back to Stede for a second before intently training his gaze back on Izzy again.

“No… stay stay,” he breathed. “What if… what if I stayed?”

There was no way Ed could articulate everything going around in his head in that moment. He didn’t know if he should laugh or cry, scream at Izzy to not be so stupid, he didn’t have to ask, or gently coax him into saying what he really meant, asking for what he really needed. But he didn’t do any of those things. None of that felt right somehow.

Stede had rested a hand on his shoulder, coming to crouch next to him. “You can stay forever if you want to, Izzy, that will never change,” he affirmed gently.

Yeah, that. That was everything Ed meant, really, if he stripped away the decades of talking and arguing, and fucking and kissing, and walks through the park and nights out in bars. Thousands of hours painting bedroom walls and choosing cutlery sets, and making cocktails behind the bar and doing bad maths in the office. Years of paying bills and going on holidays, and hoovering, and drinking wine, and listening to music and singing in the shower, and pressing every inch of their bodies together, and waking up next to one another and… living. If he stripped all that way, washed away the sins of everything they had been through, then yeah… that.

Izzy nodded, slowly, looking between the both of them before reaching out a hand. Because this was safe now. This had to be safe now. He had nothing else, no where else, and maybe that was okay. Maybe he liked that. Maybe this was his version of that stupid ship in that stupid painting. Maybe /this/ was his ‘Revenge’. To live.

Both Ed and Stede were resting their hands against Izzy’s seconds later, and somehow between the three of them, digits were entwining and crossing, holding gently together, and squeezing carefully. Despite the exhaustion apparent on his face, Izzy’s eyes seemed a little brighter, a little more focused now. But it was still clear he wasn’t in a position to be making many more decisions in that moment.

“Ed, darling, I have some emails to answer. Why don’t you and Izzy have a nap, and then we can decide what we want for dinner together and one of us can nip out to the shops. Then we can cook. Do you think, Izzy?”

The only energy Izzy had was to nod slowly. That sounded… fucking perfect. That sounded like the life he hadn’t had in so many years, and the life he craved so deeply. It was like Stede knew he needed the mundane, the ordinary, a slither of normal life to cut through the absolute shit show of the last few days. Of the last year.

“Yeah…” Ed cleared his throat as he felt his voice crack, gently pulling his hand from the pile and standing, his knees screaming at him for being crouched for so long. “Sofa or bed, Iz?”

“Bed… don’t think either of our bodies can handle the sofa again,” he teased softly, his smile weak but there nonetheless.

Ed chuckled gently, equally weakly, but like Izzy he meant it. “I’ll just get your painkiller first,” he murmured, silently gesturing to Stede to follow him into the kitchen. Izzy nodded, looking back to Marmalade again and beginning to stroke into her fur once more.

The second they were in the kitchen, Ed had his arms around Stede, pulling him in close, burying his face in his neck and gripping onto him like a piece of floating driftwood in the ocean, like it was the only thing that was going to save him. “We need to talk. We really, really, need to talk,” he mumbled against his neck. Stede’s arms wound around him securely, squeezing back carefully, pressing a kiss to his temple and nosing down his jaw gently.

“Yes, I agree, we do. But it can wait,” he promised gently. He pulled back just a little, just enough to meet Ed’s gaze. “Because it’s all okay. I haven’t quite figured it out in my head yet, but I can promise you, it’s all okay…”

Ed held his gaze long enough to tumble into his beautiful eyes, to go searching for all the emotions Stede was so willingly presenting to him, to try and listen and discover everything Stede was silently telling him in that look that held so much trust and devotion. Ed wondered what he had ever done in his life to deserve someone having so much faith in him. Track record wasn’t exactly on his side.

But shit there was Stede, looking at him like he always had, like he was his entire world. Ed knew how he felt.

Ed melted into a kiss, unsure exactly who had initiated it and he actually didn’t care in that moment. He pressed into Stede, arms wrapped tight around him, tugging him in impossibly closer, moving his lips against his, consuming his mouth. He moved a hand to tangle into his hair, exhaling shakily as he felt Stede do the same, and he was walking him backwards, carefully, until his back hit the nearest piece of wall and he could press Stede in to it, moulding his body against his perfectly.

Stede could’ve really just let it go on… and on, and on and on… but that wasn’t what was suppose to be happening right now. It took all of his willpower, but he broke the kiss, panting gently against his lover’s lips, a gentle smirk on his face. “Later, darling. Izzy needs us right now,” he whispered.

Ed was mouthing down his neck, pressing hot, open mouth kisses, fists balling into his shirt. “This can involve him too,” he muttered with a soft chuckle against Stede’s skin. But he pulled back too, a mischievous grin on his face. “I know, I know,” he said gently to quickly rid Stede of any worries he may have been having that Ed wasn’t getting it, that that was too fast. He really did get it. “I don’t really mean it. Well, I do, but not right now,” he chuckled. “I just… I really fucking love you, Stede.”

“I love you too, Ed, so much,” Stede breathed, pressing a kiss to each cheek. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Take him upstairs, help him rest. We can tackle more later, okay?” Ed nodded with a soft sigh, leaving one more gentle kiss on his lips before stepping back.

“You’re right, later,” he agreed with a gentle smile, before taking himself back to the living room to get Izzy.

It took Ed less than five minutes to get Izzy upstairs, down to underwear and t-shirt and tucked back into bed again, settling him under the duvet. It was a fairly warm day, but Izzy's skin still seemed to feel like ice against his hand.

"I'm going to try this. Tell me if you don't like it," Ed murmured softly, laying the weighted blanket over him inch by inch, both so it didn't hurt him and so he could tell him to stop if wanted. But the only noise it seemed to elicit from him was a small, satisfied groan, and he curled up more under it, burying his face in the pillow.

His head was thumping, like someone was playing twenty sets of drums in it. He supposed the lack of sleep and emotional weight of what had just happened was very much catching up with him.

Seeing the way he was squinting against the light, Ed drew the curtains to dim the room before stripping himself of everything but underwear and following Izzy in under the covers. It took a moment of effort to slip himself under the weighted blanket without jostling Izzy too much, but once he'd slipped under he carefully gathered the other man into his arms, against his chest, where he could take his body warmth.

Izzy didn't seem shy about it this time. He pressed his face to Ed's collarbone, nuzzling gently, then tipping his head up his neck, brushing his lips over his skin, splaying a hand out over Ed's chest.

With a smile, and a very familiar warmth in him, Ed pressed a kiss to his hair. "What made you change your mind?" he whispered carefully, watching the way Izzy's eyelids were growing heavy as he tried to fight sleep for a few seconds more.

"I heard it all aloud, in my own voice. The whole story, from start to finish. First time I thought about every single thing that had happened together." His voice was quiet, heavy, a little slurred from the way sleep was taking over fast. "And I just thought... fuck that. That isn't me." Ed chuckled gently and nodded. God knows that was true. "And Stede... he didn't walk out..."

Ed's hand stilled where it has been caressing up and down his spine for a moment. "No, baby. He never would." He didn't know if that felt amazing or hurt like hell. He was sure Izzy didn't mean it, but his inner saboteur added 'unlike you' to the end of that statement.

"And I could hear you at the door," Izzy continued. "I knew you were right there." Okay... so he didn't mean it like that at all. "Lucius said I had to trust myself. I want to trust you both..." His voice trailed off as his eyes dropped closed.

Ed could've pushed, could've made him speak more. But fuck it, no. That was good enough. Izzy wanted to trust them. And they were going to fucking prove he was right to.

Chapter Text

Normal service will resume in the next chapter, but I just had to say this.

I woke up this morning to David Jenkins' latest post. Our crew isn't going to be rescued. I believe whole heartedly he has tried everything. I could lament for thousands of words about how this is going to make us all feel; angry, sad, mournful, disappointed. All of these things. But you don't need me to articulate this for you, you all know how we feel as a group. Instead, I feel I need to say this:

I will not stop.

I have tens of thousands of words still in me, and that's probably just for this series alone!

This fandom, this show, got me writing again. I used to religiously write when I was a teenager. Then I grew up, and got a job, and took the mindset of 'I don't have time for that'. Since re-joining AO3 in August of last year, I have posted hundreds of thousands of words. I have written almost every single day. Thousands of people have witnessed it and it's just wonderful. I'm so lucky that people have engaged, read, commented. People have got emotionally invested in my words and that's just incredible. I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for doing so.

This show, like for so many people, saved me at a time I really needed saving. It was the first time I allowed myself to be authentic to me in a very long time.

So all of this to say, they can take the last arc of the story from us as the format we know, but it lives on in us. I have full faith David and team will make sure we hear about their story plans in some capacity, some day. In the meantime, the story is not over, because we keep being the authors of it. Through words, through art, through Reddit threads and comments on Instagram. All of it. We are still the crew. We are still sailing this ship.

I won't stop writing. I can't, not now. And I just wanted to reassure everyone of that. I'm not done yet!

So, to the next adventure.

(Also in the meantime, David Jenkins, if you read this and you want someone to write a narrative/prose version of series 3, hit me up)

Chapter Text

Izzy slept. He slept peacefully, for the first time in forever. Granted, it was only a nap, it was only a couple of hours, it wasn’t through the night. But no nightmares, no hallucinations, no jolting awake from an anxiety attack. Tucked up safe and held in Ed’s arms, he slept soundly.

They were awoken a few hours later by a gentle voice, and Izzy could feel a hand in his hair, slowly caressing and carding, pulling him from sleep. He groaned softly as he fluttered his eyes open to see Stede above him, a soft smile on his face. Ed seemingly was already awake, pressing a kiss to Izzy’s hair and smiling gently.

Izzy couldn't help the way he burrowed back against Ed, burying his face to his neck, feeling the soft heat in his cheeks at the way they were both smiling at him. So soft, so gentle, so kind. Since when did he get to have this?

Since about now apparently.

"I gotta move, Iz, sorry," Ed murmured gently in his ear, waiting for him to shift away before sliding out of bed and disappearing to the bathroom. Izzy ran a hand (carefully) over his face and glanced over at Stede.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"A few hours. It's about 4pm," he said gently, like that was completely okay. Like that wasn't a total waste of time.

"Ed and I really need to do some work soon," he mumbled with a weak chuckle, but it was a genuine concern.

"You can, soon. Strict desk duties for a while though, love." Love. Stede called Ed love, not Izzy. Love. That was... different. "Do you know what you'd want for dinner? I realise you haven't eaten a full meal since you've come here. You can have whatever you want..."

Izzy just shrugged. "I dunno." His brain felt totally scrambled, and suddenly a tiny decision like that felt too huge to be able to make. But one of the biggest decisions he'd ever made in his life, as big as agreeing to divorcing Ed, had come in seconds. "Ed knows what I like."

Stede nodded a little and stood from the bed. "I'll ask him then, but I'll check with you first."

Izzy let that settled in his brain for a second, and fought the 'why' that was about to come tumbling from his lips. He got to choose now. He had to get used to that.

Like it was the most ingrained, natural, basic instinct thing in the world, Stede reached over and brushed a stand of hair from Izzy's eyes before leaning in and kissing his forehead. "See you downstairs." And moments later he was gone.

Fuck. Fuck.

He looked over as Ed came out of the bathroom again. "Have you spoken to Stede about what the fuck is going on here?" The words came fast and breathy, reflecting in his tone the anxiety, the fear.

Ed stopped in his tracks, blinking at him. "What do you mean?"

"About this. About us. About... what am I? A permanent third wheel? An addition? I'm not... you're in a relationship. What does that mean for me? What does Stede want?"

"There's a lot of questions there, mate," Ed said gently, moving back towards the bed. "Take a deep breath. We haven't spoken about it yet, but I know it's all okay. And I think we should speak about it all together anyway." He sat back on the edge of the bed.

"No. You and Stede need to talk about what this means for you."

“Iz, baby, Stede said to me he hasn’t exactly figured it all out in his head, but he knows it’s all okay. That’s how I feel too. We don’t need more than that… we can sit and talk about it, all three of us. I promise, it’s fine.” He carefully took his hand, squeezing gently. “We will make this work. But the bottom line is, I want you, okay?”

The frown settled so deep and heavy on Izzy’s forehead that Ed raised his other hand and swiped his thumb up between his eyebrows, trying to loosen the muscles. Izzy took a second, and took a deep breath, before nodding slowly. He had to trust the process.

“Stede wants to know what I want to eat,” he mumbled quietly, feeling like a child who had refused to eat what was offered. But Ed seemed to get it, seemed to get why that was hard right now.

“I’ll go and tell him what you like. Come down when you’re ready.” He leant in and left a gentle kiss on his cheek before leaving him alone.

Alone to breathe, just for a second.

Options: run away. Or stay.

And he didn’t want to run anymore.

He pulled himself from the bed, stretching slowly, carefully, to not strain anything, before pulling on his jeans and adjusting his t-shirt. So staying it was. And maybe he had made that decision a while back, he couldn’t place it now. The only barrier was understanding how the hell he fit in to Ed and Stede’s relationship.

They had decided on lasagne for dinner, which was one of Izzy’s favourites. He’d nodded gently, with a soft smile and a comment about Ed remembering. Which seemed stupid. Ed had spent far less of his life /not/ with Izzy than he had with him. Of course he’d remember. But that was the nature of the beast; Izzy always had visions, especially after Stede showed up, that Ed had just wiped every remnant of him away from his consciousness, because it was easier. Apparently that wasn’t what had happened at all.

Ed had popped out to the shops to get the few things they were missing to make the dinner, whilst Stede began prepping what they did have. Izzy placed himself down at the breakfast bar, watching with an amused smirk as Marmalade jumped onto the worktop and padded over to where Fang had left the fish tank in the corner. She sat in front of it, tilting her head slowly, staring wide-eyed and curious into the water as the three goldfish swam around in their uninterrupted, pointless circles. Well that would have her occupied for a while…

Dinner was… wonderful. There was no other way Izzy could describe it. He had insisted that Stede at least let him set the table, if nothing else, and whilst it had taken him twice as long as he suspected it normally would given how just leaning in to put down the cutlery hurt, he had some sense of satisfaction that he had at least achieved /something/.

Ed had come back having stopped off at the bar for their laptops and paperwork, so they could attempt to get a few things done at home. Stede had to convince Izzy to not dive straight at the thing, that it could wait until tomorrow. He supposed one more evening wouldn’t do any harm.

Because Izzy wasn’t drinking, none of them drank, and there was a weird warmth in his chest at their considerations. It had been a long time since anyone had been that considerate to him, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with it other than gruffly muttering ‘fine, whatever’ in response. He hated the knowing smile they exchanged.

He let Stede and Ed chat, mostly, occasionally interjecting with a comment or two, but just enjoying hearing normality. They spoke gently, they spoke kindly, they had normal conversations. Sat just watching, observing, Izzy had a disconcerting, creeping feeling run up the back of his neck, and a weight settle on his chest. He could happily be an outsider in this forever. He would be quite content if he were to never really partake again, but to just observe the way the love was shared between them, so innocently and wholly. The amount of building happiness, of satisfaction, he was getting from just simply being around kindness and affection only served as a reminder of how starved of it he had been. If he had been told he could only sit there, for the rest of his days on this Earth, and /watch/, that would have been enough for him. His expectations had been forced so low, his norm twisted and contorted into something so ugly and so misshaped, that being an outsider to other people’s love would have served as a source of comfort enough now for twenty lifetimes.

And shit, that really wasn’t him. He knew what he liked. He knew what he wanted. He knew, once, that he deserved to be loved. Surely that hadn’t changed? He just had to find it again.

“Don’t you think, Iz?” Izzy was drawn out by his name, eyes shooting over to Ed who was looking at him intently, concerned. They’d finished eating. Izzy had started out with a small portion, unsure how his body would react given how little he had been eating. But he had been starving once he started, and had enjoyed a larger second portion. Stede had positively beamed when he cleared both plates. At least he had got his appetite back if nothing else.

“Sorry, what?” he mumbled, his brain back tracking and furiously trying to pick out if he had heard anything of the last few minutes of conversation at all, or if he really had blocked it all out in favour of tumbling into his crisis-filled thoughts. Just agree. That’s usually best. But before he could mindlessly nod, and hope that was the right answer, Stede’s voice was reaching his ears.

“What were you thinking about?” he asked gently, giving Izzy a coaxing smile as his eyes drifted to settle on him.

Izzy shook his head, looking down at his lap then. No way. No way would they like it if he verbalised that. They’d both go crazy, in fact. So he pressed his thumb into his ring finger tattoo, and took a breath, desperately trying to think about words to pass off his apparently apathy to the conversation with.

Clearly Ed was having none of that.

“I know that look, Iz,” he said quietly.

Right, yeah. Ed still did know him. Ed hadn’t got rid of every piece of knowledge he had of him. In that moment, Izzy wondered though if Ed still knew him like he was pretty sure he knew Ed. He was pretty sure he still knew every inch of his skin, the placement of every single tattoo, and the meaning behind each one too. He was pretty sure he knew exactly where each strand of hair fell, and how his eyelids fluttered in particular patterns in his sleep. He was pretty sure he knew every breathing pattern he had, depending on if he had been working out, concentrating, sleeping or making love to him. And he was pretty damn sure, if he held his breath for a second and let a whole other universe glaze over him, just for a moment, that he could feel the ghost of Ed’s hand on his skin from the day they said their vows to one another.

Did Ed still know him like that?

“Edward and I had a quick chat, whilst we were making dinner.” Stede had begun again, but Izzy could still feel Ed’s eyes on him. “And I think it’s best if we get it out in the open, lay all the cards on the table, so to speak.” And Izzy braced. Maybe thinking about being just an observer wasn’t such a crazy thought after all. “Obviously you and Ed have a level of trust, a level of intimacy, far beyond what I know with you. And I am more than happy for you both to explore that now and… rekindle it. But I was wondering if you might consider…” When Stede’s confidence faltered, Izzy’s eyes cast up slowly to look at him. “Well, if you might consider me like that too? We could… well, I suppose it would be dating? We could try, at least, see how it felt?” Izzy’s eyes were fixed on Stede now, despite still feeling Ed’s gaze burrowing into his soul. “I’d like that. I really liked kissing you… I would like to try more.”

Izzy couldn’t help the haunted, sad smile that grazed over his face at the way Stede was trying to put this so delicately. Of course he was. “You want to fuck me?” Seemed to figure. He could see how that fantasy could play out. Seeing Ed with another man, joining in… he could get why that would be hot.

“What? No… well, not only that. I mean… I very much do but - … what I mean to say is…” Stede seemed to look to Ed for aid then, faltering completely on every attempt to try and explain himself.

“Fucking hell, Iz, subtle as a brick,” Ed muttered, frowning a little. “Yes, he does. But not just fuck you. This isn’t some fantasy threesome thing. He means it when he says date. He wants to take you to dinner and go to see a film, and walks in the park, and talk, and kiss. He wants to date you, Izzy. Exactly what he said.” Izzy winced slightly at the almost exasperation in Ed’s voice, and this time he couldn’t fight it. He had stopped himself saying it so many times over the last week, so many times being almost every time they had been kind to him, done something nice for him, taken care of him. So that was all the time.

“Why?”

Ed fell silent then, a deeper frown settling on his face. But before he could dive in to that, Stede was on his feet, moving around the table and crouching next to Izzy. “Ed was telling me what you said to him after you spoke to the police, what made you want to stay. You said what you heard yourself describing just wasn’t you. Ed knows the real you. I think I know some of the real you, but I would love to know more. To know all of you, in fact. So if you said this wasn’t you, I wondered maybe… maybe being with the both of us could be you now?”

And there were those eyes, so open and so honest, so searching. Stede rested a hand on Izzy’s in his lap, and this time Izzy was sure his thumb was purposefully brushing over his tattoo gently. “There are no rules, there are no rights and wrongs. Just… be with Ed and… and let us discover if we want to be together too?”

Shit. Yes. He wanted that.

He glanced to Ed again, who’s expression had softened now that Izzy had let his guard down a little more, and now he had realised it wasn’t Izzy arguing to be difficult, but it was Izzy arguing because maybe right now he genuinely didn’t know what to do with the concept of being loved again. So he watched them with gentle eyes and an open expression, and gave Izzy the merest of nods. And even though it was small, it said a million things. Ed did still know him. He did still know every line of his expression and every thrum of his heart. He knew what Izzy looked like experiencing every single emotion. He knew how he sounded first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He knew what he looked like coming home from the gym, or on a late shift at the bar. He knew what he smelt like after sex, with his hair mussed and his lips kiss-bitten. He knew what he sounded like when he sung along to his favourite songs when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. Ed knew it all.

Stede wanted to know it all too. Izzy wanted to show him.

He leant in, searching out his lips, only to be halted by a shot of pain in his chest and down his side as he put too much pressure on his ribs. He swore, louder than he anticipated, and clutched his side. Stede stood quickly, hand on his shoulder, the other on his cheek, soothing gently.

“Careful… careful,” he almost fucking cooed, to a horror Izzy just didn’t have the heart to express, caressing his thumb over his cheekbone. “Here, let me.” His voice was so soft, so peaceful, like gentle waves lapping at the shore. And then he was connecting their lips, sweetly and carefully, kissing Izzy with a type of meaning only Ed had ever kissed him with before, drawing a needy noise from Izzy’s lips as he raised his hand to tangle it into Stede’s hair, gripping carefully.

Stede didn’t let the kiss linger half as long as Izzy would have wanted, and when he pulled back, Izzy couldn’t help the slight whimper of need that followed in the wake of Stede’s lips. He blinked up at him, searching in his eyes and finding only genuine want and curiosity. He risked a glance at Ed, who had an expression so familiar to Izzy, it was as easy as breathing to read. When he settled his eyes back on Stede, he felt a slither of worry leave him with every exhale, like both their expression was a soothing balm on wounds. ‘If it feels right, it’s right…’

“I think we should go upstairs,” Izzy whispered. “All of us…”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Izzy was exactly angling for sex, though he realised the way those words had come falling from his lips that it certainly sounded like he was. He was more meaning that he wanted to be close to them both, as close as humanly possible, whilst they could also be close to each other. Somehow, they had got that, Izzy realised, and he hadn’t even said it.

The dishes from dinner were left heartlessly in the dining room, aside from Stede very quickly whipping the left overs into the fridge, muttering something about Marmalade being very well trained but they could hardly expect her to resist a portion of lasagne just laid out on the table. There was a soft laugh from Ed that had made Izzy’s heart melt, and then there was a careful hand helping him to stand, and Ed had wound his arms around him and pulled him into a kiss that was somehow laced with more passion than the way he had kissed him in the shower that morning.

Stede was behind Izzy again, hand grazing slowly down his back to make him aware of his presence, before he was leaning in to wind an arm around his middle, joining Ed’s, and his lips were meeting the skin of Izzy’s neck to pepper slow, gentle kisses, thumb pressing carefully into his side, like a grounding touch.

When Ed broke the kiss from Izzy, his mouth was immediately meeting Stede’s. Izzy didn’t know what he was expecting to feel; maybe a shot of jealously, or a cold feeling of loneliness, separation? But it was none of those things. It was, in fact, just… warm. Warm and safe.

Then he was being led upstairs, so carefully, Ed holding his hand just ahead of him, Stede with a hand on his lower back at his side, mindful and aware as always of the limitations of his movement. It was still light out, though twilight was setting in, bathing the bedroom in a cool-toned glow, the opposite to the warmth of light Izzy had been laying in for the last week. There was a shift in the atmosphere. The window was open, evening breeze tumbling into the room, Stede’s silk and velvet curtains wafting softly in the moving air. The bed covers hadn’t been remade from their earlier nap, and yet it still looked inviting, welcoming. Stede had shut the door behind them, for the first time. Marmalade was free to come and go as she pleased in the house, and was unaccustomed to being confronted with closed doors. Something told Izzy Stede had made a conscious decision to keep her separate from this.

So sure, Izzy wasn’t exactly angling for sex. But…

He was sure Edward had been this gentle with him before, but he was struggling to remember exactly when, as he was laid slowly back against the mattress, his head settling into the plush feather pillows Stede insisted were just better (and they were but like hell was Izzy going to admit that). Ed’s eyes were even softer than they had been before now, melting Izzy into a pool underneath him, letting every tense muscle in his body slowly relax under the gaze. Ed had slipped a knee between Izzy’s thighs, kneeling over him and holding himself above him carefully, one hand buried under the pillow next to Izzy’s head, careful not to put weight or pressure on him but cradling him against the mattress.

“When was the last time someone made love to you, Izzy?” His voice was low, breathy, but steady and sure, like he knew Izzy needed to hear he meant this with every ounce of his soul. “And I don’t mean just sex, just fucking, I mean making love.”

Izzy felt a soft smile pull across his face involuntarily, although he was sure it was laced with a tinge of sadness. “Don’t think you’ll like the answer, Ed,” he whispered back.

“Oh?” he prompted, dropping his head for a second to press three kisses against his neck before moving back to make eye contact again.

“It was you,” Izzy murmured, and watched in fascination at the number of emotions that ran across Ed’s face. Concern. Sadness. Possessiveness. Maybe a tiny amount of satisfaction.

“The only reason I don’t like it is because you deserve better,” Ed breathed back. “Otherwise… good. Because that still makes you mine…”

Izzy felt a shiver run down his spine at Ed’s tone, and he couldn’t help but raise his head from the pillow to crash their lips together again, hand sliding into his hair, gripping, kissing him with desperate need. A need he never knew still sat within him until a few days ago. A need that the years clearly hadn’t been able to chase away, despite his desperate attempts.

Then he felt Stede at his side again, hand slowly sliding into the small gap between Ed and Izzy’s chest, caressing gently, pressing himself to Izzy’s side, lips attaching to his neck.

Izzy’s eyes fluttered open as Ed released his lips once again, landing on the golden curls that were tucked up against his shoulder. He glanced past Stede and out to the window and the darkening sky, watching clouds roll in that were certainly holding a storm. The air was hanging thicker in the room now, the clammy warmth of a late spring storm swirling around them, enveloping them in it’s haze.

Time was passing in a completely different way. Izzy wasn’t sure who was removing what item of clothing, wasn’t sure who’s clothing he was removing himself. They hadn’t spoken once, not a word had been exchanged between them. It felt right, it felt like it had a rhythm Izzy didn’t know he’d still recognise. It felt like it should do.

Until suddenly he realised he was naked, under scrutiny. Of course, Ed had seen him naked twice since… since that. But he hadn’t looked, had he? He hadn’t tried to observe, to let his eyes wander, to take in any details of his skin. And then his eyes shot to Stede, settling on him, pleading. Because Stede knew. Stede had been there when he was telling the police. Stede had heard him describe some of the things CJ had done to him. Stede knew what scars he may come across on Izzy’s body tonight.

Ed didn’t. Ed hadn’t heard. Izzy, of course, hadn’t wanted Ed to hear. Because he had never imagined, when he made the conscious decision to keep Ed away from it, that only a day later he would be laid out bare to them both, completely unguarded, completely undefended. Exposed and vulnerable.

Ed had trailed kisses down his body, and god had Izzy /moaned/. Up until that very moment it was exquisite. It was familiar, with the added mind-fucking sensation of another set of lips on him at the same time. His hand had been tangled in Ed’s hair, pressing him down, hips raising as Ed’s lips ghosted almost where he wanted him, like he was silently begging him for more. Ever the tease, Ed had resisted a few moments more, continued his descent, and was now peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses across Izzy’s thigh. That was when Izzy realised what was coming, and his eyes had landed on Stede, begging for help.

Too late.

Three things happened at once then. Ed’s lips brushed a scar, fairly fresh, still pink and healing from the day CJ had attempted to plunge a kitchen knife into the muscle and luckily only succeeded in slashing a cut an inch or so deep, a few inches long. Ed knew every single millimetre of skin on Izzy’s body, that was still obvious, as he pulled back in curiosity, a frown knitted onto his face as he encountered the unfamiliar mark. The first crack of thunder rolled into the room in that moment too, reverberating around the hills that surrounded the house, cascading in and tumbling back, darting left and right in the clouds. At the same time, something downstairs fell and shattered against the wooden floor.

Izzy stopped breathing. Everyone stilled.

He didn’t know he could actually move that fast still, didn’t know his bruised body would allow it, but he was darting back then, pushing both Ed and Stede aside, scrambling to sit up and press himself back against the headboard, like that was going to fucking help, eyes wide and filling with fear-driven tears.

“Okay, Izzy… it’s okay…” Stede was saying fast, kneeling up on the bed and holding his hands out to him. “It’s okay. Just thunder, and I’m sure the smash was just the cat knocking something off the table.” He knew they should have cleared up. “Breathe… it’s okay.”

Izzy watched Ed stand, grab a robe from the back of the door and tug it on. “I’ll go check, stay here.” But even with his authoritative voice, Izzy could tell Ed was reeling. Not from the noise. And the thunder was thunder. Who the fuck cared. But the scar… he knew Ed knew.

Somehow Stede had managed to keep Izzy away from a panic attack, with coaxing words and gentle hands, wrapping him in a blanket to make sure he felt less exposed. He kept Izzy’s breathing regulated and steady, kept him in control, even told him how well he was doing and how much progress he had made just by the fact he had been able to prevent himself from falling into panicking. It was somehow everything, exactly /everything/ Izzy needed to hear.

It wasn’t long before Ed was back in the room, eyes darting between the open window and the bed as the rain began to fall, the occasional large drop at first hitting the glass with a dull thud. As he pushed the door up behind him, the torrents began, pouring from the dark clouds. He moved to shut the window to stop it bouncing in, another clap of thunder reaching their ears. “We’re a dinner plate down,” Ed murmured softly. “I think she’d been trying to lick it and knocked it off.” His eyes landed on Izzy, taking in the way he was wrapped in the blanket, leaning into Stede for comfort. “All the doors are locked, baby,” he said quietly, what he hoped was reassuringly. Even then, despite the fact he knew CJ was in custody, that somehow helped.

Izzy nodded, shifting a little against Stede who had just moved to grab Ed’s underwear and throw it his direction. Stede hadn’t lost all his clothes yet. Izzy couldn’t even remember the moment he himself had. Ed pulled on his underwear under the robe before climbing back on to the bed, sitting in front of Izzy.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he assured gently, reaching out to take his hand and lace their fingers together gently. “Just know that I don’t care. I care what happened, obviously, I care that the fucker hurt you. But the scars, the marks… you’re no less beautiful because of them, Iz.”

Izzy looked down at their interlinked hands, feeling shy against those words. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been called beautiful. He swallowed hard, realising it was probably Ed that had last said it to him, yet again. Maybe he would tell him about the scar, one day, when it had all blown over and life had settled down. But not now. Not whilst they were figuring this out still.

Stede was nosing down his neck, his warm breath soothing against his skin. “Do you want to carry on?” he asked softly. Izzy watched Ed shift closer to Stede, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Izzy shrugged, glancing between them.

“You two can,” he said quietly. “I’ll go back downstairs.” Ed’s hand landed on his shoulder to still his movements.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, Iz. And we’re not going to let you be alone after that. I get you’re still jumpy, you’ve got every right to be.” The hand moved from his shoulder to cup his cheek. “We may have been moving too fast anyway, hmm? Especially since…”

Since what? Since it had been a fucking long time since Izzy had let /anyone/ near him intimately? Since it was involving rekindling physical attraction he had been fighting for years? Since it involved Stede, someone who didn’t know him intimately at all? Since Izzy was different, changed? Since Ed knew every single way his body moved against him, but in the time they had been apart had learned that about someone else too? Since what exactly?

“I don’t want to take advantage of you, Iz.” Izzy actually scoffed at Ed’s words then, looking at him with clarity for the first time in the last few minutes.

“I asked to come up here, Edward, with the both of you.” So sure, maybe he wasn’t 100% thinking it through. Because maybe it was too fast, too much. Stede had literally only just said that maybe they could try dating. Jumping into his pants immediately possibly wasn’t the best idea? But… that was his desperation manifesting again. “I just… wanted you both close.”

Stede was leaning in then, pressing a kiss to Izzy’s cheek, then his lips, just once, before pulling back. “Then let’s not do anymore tonight. Let’s kiss and cuddle and sleep. We’ve got plenty of time to work out the rest. Together.” He punctuated his last word by landing another kiss to Izzy’s mouth, before turning his head to do the same to Ed.

Another crack of thunder hit the room and Izzy couldn’t help the jolt that ran through his body. His fight or flight was still kicking in, still acting on stupid instinct. But he felt the fact he had been honest, the fact he had told them what he wanted, was major progress.

Then Ed was pressing against him again, enveloping him into his arms, pulling him close. “I’ve got you,” he whispered and his tone caused an almost-whine that Izzy had to prevent escaping his lips. He tipped his head up again, seeking out his mouth, feeling his body relax against Ed as his lips pressed against Izzy’s, kissing him slowly, but with every hint of understanding and equal need Izzy wanted in that moment. Stede was behind him again, body moulding against Izzy’s pressing in close. And fuck it, he was going to take. He was going to take what he could get, what he wanted, even if there was a spark of hope in him that this might last. Even then, he was going to let himself have this. This felt right.

Izzy woke with Stede the following morning, and somehow sharing slow, lazy kisses for a few minutes felt perfectly natural. That was unbelievably bizarre. Before he could panic about it, he was getting himself up and taking himself to have a shower, making sure he didn’t sit this time and risk getting stuck. Stede insisted on coming in to rub cream over the bruises, and whilst before it felt perfunctory and awkward, now it felt strangely intimate and… passionate? The way Stede stood closer, always more than just his hand making contact with Izzy’s body, lips pressing to his cheek, or neck, or behind his ear in apology every time Izzy winced. And then he helped him dress, commenting on how lovely Izzy would look in a shirt Ed had that he never wore, and how he would try and pry it away from him for Izzy to try. It was all strangely domestic, strangely familiar, like they had been doing it for years.

In truth, it was lovely.

Leaving Ed in bed, they headed down to make breakfast. Stede insisted that Izzy could set up his work stuff at the other end of his desk, and make the most of using the comfortable home office space. So whilst Stede faffed around in the kitchen, Izzy make several trips back and forth with laptops and paperwork, making sure he didn’t carry too much. It /was/ a nice space to work, he had to admit, even better when Marmalade came to join him, jumping into his lap and curling up there whilst he pulled up the work email and winced at the number sat unread in the inbox. Maybe the rest of the bar crew had kept the place running, but they had no regard for the admin, clearly. Taking a deep breath, he slid his glasses on (that thankfully Ed had remembered to pick up along with everything else) and got himself comfy.

Stede bought him black coffee and a bowl of granola and yoghurt, with a banana and honey. “Your favourite,” he murmured softly as he placed it on the desk.

“How do you…?” Izzy began and faltered at Stede’s genuine smile.

“Do you really think Ed doesn’t talk about you all the time, Izzy? Do you really think I don’t feel like I know you just as well as he does, from the way he mentions you every single day?” Izzy felt something fucking /burn/ in his chest at those words. Wow. That was… fucking hell, that was something else to feel. “That’s why this is going to be okay, Izzy,” Stede said softly, in a tone that could have been mistaken as offhand if Izzy hadn’t caught the genuine glint in his eye, the genuine look of growing respect and… adoration? Before Izzy could even think of forming a response, Stede was gone, leaving him staring at the doorway he retreated through not knowing whether the burning desire in his stomach was to shove Stede against a wall and kiss him like he fucking meant it or whether it was to pin Ed down into the mattress he was still splayed out on upstairs and do the same.

Maybe it was both. Maybe that’s where he was with this. Fucking already. Maybe, just this once, this was going to be okay.

Chapter Text

They had what Izzy could only describe in his own head, when thinking back on it, the first ‘normal’ day he had had in… well, he couldn’t really place it. Months if he counted Jack’s behaviour as his norm. Years, if he didn’t.

Stede had joined him after he’d bought Izzy his breakfast, opening up the doors to the garden. The storm had cleared the air, and a warm, gentle breeze wafted into the room, the sun shining down onto the grass. Marmalade sat with him whilst he ate, and began on the emails, but soon the allure of the sunshine in the fresh air was too much for her, and she was slinking away out into the garden, glancing back at him for a moment as if to say ‘I’m not going far, still right here’. God, even the cat could tell how needy he was.

Ed had (finally) got up around eleven, but Izzy would let him off. This shit was emotionally exhausting. He couldn’t blame Ed for sleeping in. Once he’d got himself coffee, he’d settled himself between Stede and Izzy on the desk with his own computer. Luckily the desk was huge, twice the size of a ‘normal’ table, as Stede usually had piles and piles of magazines, fabric swatches, historic furniture books, everything he could possibly think of to help stacked there to refer to. Now that was piled in the corner, allowing for space.

The pair fell into a rhythm of work easily, almost alarmingly so if it hadn’t felt such a comfort to Izzy. This felt so safe, doing something he knew and was confident in. It was so far removed from how he had been living day to day that he just couldn’t help the way he melted in to it with absolute glee.

It was even productive. Izzy cleared the inbox, checked everyone’s timesheets were inputted correctly (Lucius had made a mistake, what a shock), and he and Ed found and contacted three potential new suppliers, one of which had already answered by early afternoon eager to work with them.

Was this what it could be like?

Stede insisted they took a break for lunch and sat out in the garden in the sunshine. Once again, Izzy let Ed and Stede talk casually, about nothing in particular, basking in the domesticity and kindness of it all. Those creeping thoughts were back, about just being happy to sit on the edge of their lives, be allowed to feed off the beautiful energy of love and understanding that tumbled from them both. It wasn’t as strong as it had been last night, in fact he was sure it was quite far removed. But it sat there, tapping away at his brain, trying to make a home.

They worked a few more hours until Izzy was struggling to stifle yawns into the back of his hand, and Ed had decided they’d done more than enough for the day. Izzy was still healing, he couldn’t be expected to just dive straight back in to it. Stede had offered to cook, so Ed had led Izzy off to the sofa to put some rubbish tv on in the background and relax.

Out of instinct, and some form of shitty, depressing muscle memory, Izzy nested himself into the corner of the sofa against one of Stede’s large throw cushions, barriered off the other side by another, tucking his legs under himself and sinking into the corner to try and take up the least amount of space possible. When Ed had come to sit down himself, he gave him a sideways glance with a frown.

Clearly his earlier quietness, his lack of joining in the conversation outside, hadn’t gone unnoticed like he thought it had, as Ed glanced over to him again. Izzy could feel his eyes running over his face before he spoke. “Where does your brain go, Iz? When we’re sat like that? Where do you go?”

Izzy kept his eyes on the tv, though he wasn’t watching. And he certainly wasn’t listening anymore, not the way his heart started thumping in his ears. “No where that matters, Eddie,” he said quietly, in that tone that he used to use on Ed all the time when they were young, to soothe him, to convince him it was all going to be okay when he himself had no assurance of that at all.

Ed wasn’t falling for that. Obviously time had made him wise to that trick. But he’d changed tact this time. “Why are you tucking yourself all the way in the corner?”

Still reeling from the first question, from the fact Ed noticed, he didn’t have time to moderate his answer before it fell from his lips. “So I don’t take up space.”

Shit. He glanced sideways to Ed and felt any slight wall he’d tried to build up between them in the last few minutes begin to crumble.

Then Ed was moving towards him, reaching out across the sofa and removing the cushion that sat between them. He watched Izzy’s body tense, and he drew back again. “Tell me what you were thinking about, Izzy.” Okay so maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe that was playing too much on the fact he’d removed some of the guards Izzy had put up, physically and mentally. But he didn’t know how else to break through.

And shit it seemed to have worked.

“Just that I’d be happy if you just let me stay to watch,” he said quietly, eyes on the floor, not daring to meet Ed’s. “You and Stede are just so… incredible together. It’s really fucking beautiful. Even if all I did was be present in it, just watch you guys love each other and not me, I’d be happy.”

Ed blinked slowly at him. So he really, /really/ hadn’t expected that.

Izzy was never an observer. He was the first to get himself involved if he wanted to be. He didn’t do the sidelines, not often, only if it was for Ed. He’d always take a step back, to the side, for Ed.

Oh. He’d do it for Ed.

But that wasn’t it anymore. This wasn’t just about Ed and his life now. This was all of them, all together. It was so important for him to know that. He shouldn’t be getting out of Ed’s way, on the sidelines for him. He was never going to let that happen again.

“But… you’re apart of it too? You know that, right? You aren’t just an observer. You’re apart of it.”

Finally Izzy looked at him, eyes glassing over as they filled with tears he just couldn’t control. “Well, I was hoping to be, yeah…” he whispered. “But then I go and do stupid things like this…” He didn’t move, or gesture, but it was obvious he was referring to physically cutting himself off from Ed.

“It’s not stupid, baby, it’s called re-learning. And healing…” Ed shifted closer again, and this time Izzy didn’t tense. “What else can I say to you to convince you I love you? That I want you? That Stede wants you too?”

Izzy swallowed the thump in his throat as the tears escaped his eyes and tumbled down his cheeks. “Nothing… just say that again,” he whispered.

Ed’s hand raised to rest against his cheek, swiping away the tears like he had done so many times in the past few days. “I want you. I love you,” he said again, stronger this time, making sure his voice didn’t waver, making sure he held Izzy’s gaze defiantly. “I love you, Israel.”

Izzy felt the breath be taken from his lungs as Ed used his full name. He was pretty damn sure the last time Ed had done that was during their vows. He hardly did it often, like it was secret reserved just for them. Izzy /loved/ it when he used his full name. It made him feel special, feel whole, feel /seen/.

He extracted himself from the pillow nest and crawled over to Ed, into his lap, wincing gently. Ed placed a hand on his back and murmured a soft ‘careful’ into his ear as he did so, letting Izzy loop his arms around his neck. “I love you too,” Izzy whispered into his ear, before burying his face in his neck and melting against Ed as he wound his arms around him, holding him close carefully. “And I think… I think I want to see what might happen with Stede…”

Stede had entered the room to tell them both dinner was almost ready, but upon seeing the way Izzy was pressed against Ed, the way Ed was holding him so tenderly, his eyes filled with silent tears as he pressed kisses to the top of Izzy’s head, he went to make a retreat.

“Stede…” He looked back from where he was trying to silently tiptoe out of the room to see Ed looking back at him. He gestured for Stede to join them, and Izzy felt the sofa dip as Stede sat behind him. He glanced up at Ed, knowing he was trying to fill Stede in on the situation with some sort of fucking telepathy rather than using words. So to save them all some time, he gently poked Ed in the side and pressed his face against his neck to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Tell him,” he mumbled against his neck, feeling Ed’s chest vibrate from the gentle chuckle that emitted from him.

“Izzy was wondering if you’d like to take him out of dinner sometime? Ow, hey!” Ed was cut off by Izzy poking his side again, laughing gently at the jab.

“Don’t be a dick,” Izzy muttered, but the smile in his voice was obvious and it made Stede’s heart sing. He reached out and placed a hand on Izzy’s back, drawing Izzy out, making him turn his head to look at Stede. “Let’s… let’s give it a go,” he said softly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth but then wincing and letting go. “I think I’m done being an observer now.”

The last statement confused Stede but he didn’t care. Seconds later he was leaning in and connecting his lips to Izzy’s, kissing him softly, thoughtfully, like he was pouring every second of his words and feelings into it, hand carding into his hair, the other still supporting him on his back.

Ed’s hands stayed on Izzy, still holding him close but letting him and Stede have a moment. So yeah, this was probably going to work. They were probably going to be able to make this work. To hide the satisfied smile on his face, he buried his face against Izzy’s neck, humming gently when he felt Izzy’s hand slide into his hair and keep him close.

When Stede pulled back, Izzy managed to only hold his gaze for a few seconds before he was looking away again, blush rising on his cheeks, looking bashful. “You kiss me so sweetly…” he whispered, like it was something whimsical, unfathomable.

Stede chuckled gently, swiping his thumb carefully over his bottom lip. “I mean it,” he said quietly. Izzy glanced at the hand that reached past him to tuck a strand of hair behind Ed’s ear with a gentle smile. “I need to check on dinner, it’s almost done.” Stede planted one last gentle kiss to Izzy’s lips before standing.

Maybe this was going to be okay.

The next day, Ed had gone into the bar again, and this time Izzy hadn’t argued too hard to go with him. He missed the place, he really really did. But now he was more active and moving, he was also feeling the pull of every muscle, every time he jarred his ribs. He knew he wouldn’t last an hour behind the bar, and he knew he’d struggle to be careful if he went anywhere near it. So he opted for working with Stede in the office again, taking it as a good chance to get on top of the books, the receipts, all the stuff he was usually scrabbling to do with snippets of time he had at the desk.

It was early close, so Ed had arrived home just after ten. Izzy was in the kitchen making one final cup of tea when he heard Ed’s voice float through the house, calling for Stede to come and help him with something in the car. Not thinking anything of it, Izzy finished making the drink and stood for a moment to reply to a text from Lucius, glasses perched on his nose. The fact he was even wearing them just for texts make him bristle with annoyance that he really was getting old. He removed them again and placed them on the kitchen worktop before wrapping his hands around his mug and heading into the living room.

The sight that met him had him freezing in his tracks.

Between Ed and Stede, they were rolling in a huge, beautiful, free-standing record playing with built in sound system. Izzy blinked in confusion, noting the smug look on Ed’s face as he glanced over at him.

“What the fuck?”

Ed chuckled softly. “Well we couldn’t have Stede whinging any longer than he was worried you couldn’t play any of your vinyl. So we solved that problem.”

Stede straightened himself up from where he’d been pushing it into position. “I hope it’s okay. We went to Frenchie for a recommendation and this is the one he has. So, you know…”

Yes, Izzy did know. He knew all about the three months of consecutive rent Frenchie couldn’t afford after he dropped an obscene amount of money on this quite frankly stunning sound system. He knew all about that, because he chipped in along with everyone else to pay his damn rent.

So he knew how much this cost. And he knew it was too much.

“I can’t… you can’t… it’s such a waste of money,” he mumbled, looking between them in disbelief. “You can’t spend that much money.” He left off the ‘on me’, he kept that unsaid.

“Iz, babe, in case you hadn’t noticed, we aren’t exactly short of money,” Ed grinned at him, stepping away from Stede and towards Izzy. “Besides, you’re so worth it.”

Izzy was shaking his head before he could stop himself, and Ed reached out to cup his cheek gently, stepping up close to him and removing the mug from his hand to place on the coffee table, bring himself to almost touching but not quite. “You’re worth everything, Iz. Absolutely everything.”

Izzy didn’t do ‘nice’ things. He was very much a ‘make do’ person. If it functioned, that was fine. He /liked/ nice things, he could appreciate them. Occasionally he’d treat himself to a nice bottle of wine, and sometimes he’d spend a little more than he thought was sensible on a jacket, or a pair of trousers. And sometimes, when he really managed to fight the inner voices that told him it just wasn’t worth it, he’d buy an original pressing of one of his favourite albums, or a first edition of one of his favourite books. Something truly useless, but that he truly appreciated. He wasn’t used to having the best.

Stede was at his side then, pressing in, allowing himself to slot against Izzy. “You deserve all the finest things, Izzy,” he breathed in his ear. His tone, his demeanour, caught Izzy completely off guard, and he was turning to face him wide-eyed and confused.

“I don’t… I’m not…” Before whatever his full sentence was going to be came to fruition, Stede was silencing him by pressing their lips together. It was firm, yet careful, a clear sign it’s intention was to stop Izzy in his tracks. It bloody worked.

The dazed look on Izzy’s face had Ed smirking softly, reaching out to take his hand. “What do you want to listen to first?” he asked softly.

Defeated (and shit that was happening faster and faster every day), Izzy entwined their fingers and glanced over at the stacked boxes of vinyl in the corner of the room. “You know what,” he replied softly, almost mischievously, a grin blooming over his face that just had Stede melting.

With a wink to show he understood, Ed was pulling back and going over to the piles, eyes scanning quickly to find the correct record. It didn’t take him long to locate it, pulling it out with a satisfied hum and theatrically blowing the small amount of dust off the sleeve, causing Izzy to roll his eyes and mutter fondly ‘twat’.

Stede moved around to plug everything in, making sure it was all ready to go and Ed carefully placed the record down, gently lowering the needle. Stede hadn’t asked what they were about to play. The look that was shared between them was enough for him to know it held a deep meaning. He knew, even if they didn’t share the exact details of why, that it was just going to be a pleasure to witness them hear it again like this, for the first time in this new life. So as the crackles of the record filled the air, he settled himself down on the sofa, just to listen and observe.

As the first notes began to play, Stede found it instantly recognisable. A slow smile grew over his face as Ed stepped back up to Izzy, offering out his hand.

“Dance with me…”

“Fuck off Ed,” Izzy retorted with a chuckle, but as his eyes landed on Ed’s expression, his gaze softened.

“Come on Iz,” Ed murmured, gently wiggling the fingers of his outstretched hand. “Just like we always used to.”

Stede watched Izzy’s eyes float away, disappear to a distant time, possibly long forgotten until now. A time, Stede suspected, when his smile was the most common expression Ed would have seen, and a time when we would have known exactly how to draw it out of him. Finally, and slowly, Izzy was reaching out. Their hands met, and Ed was gently drawing him in, close, pressing their bodies together, resting their joined hands up against their shoulders, his other hand coming to rest on Izzy’s back. They began to sway together, Izzy tipping his head forward to rest against Ed’s shoulder, letting Ed leave a kiss on his temple.

Stede didn’t think he had seen Izzy look this at peace, this contented, in the years he’d known him. Wrapped up against Ed, moving gently to the deep tones of the music, the soft and beautiful notes of the vocals, he seemed completely lost in the music, eyes dropping closed and letting Ed move them carefully around the room. And just for a moment, Stede wondered if he heard soft notes leaving Izzy himself.

“Il me parle tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d'amour…”

Chapter Text

It was fairly obvious that having friends in the police was yet again paying its dues. Given they had been holding CJ in custody since the night in the bar, it had been expected that things would progress fairly fast. But no one had expected a court date to come through only a couple of days after Izzy had given the police his statement. Apparently, and this shouldn’t have come as a shock to anyone, but the way CJ had turned on the police and attempted violence against them had significantly bumped the case up the list.

They had said that given the level of injury and the length of time over which it had happened, the charges were severe. Izzy supposed telling the truth about the number of times he had been threatened with an actual weapon (and the two times he had actually been hurt by one) had compounded that. That, and it was more than obvious Jim had used their influence and, quite frankly, ability to scare the shit out of any superior they ever had, to pull some strings and track it forward. It was about who you knew, it seemed.

Still, even as Izzy got ready that morning, he couldn’t quite believe it was happening.

He’d completely shut down when he received the phone call. He was immediately turning over in his head all the reasons it was such a bad idea, all the reasons he would never make it through even being in the same room as Jack, let alone having to speak in front of him. Ed and Stede had let him go, for a while, knowing at first there was no talking to him. They had left him sat out on the patio, cigarette in hand, their only parting utterance that night before going to bed being a silent nod from Izzy when Ed had told him to just come and join them when he was ready.

Of course, he hadn’t joined them. They both lay awake from some time, until eventually Stede had succumb to sleep. Ed must have dozed off for a short time too, but woke around two o’clock to find a third of the bed still empty. When he’d found Izzy sat in the guest room on the end of the bed, staring up at the painting of ‘The Revenge’ on the wall and Marmalade sat next to him, he hadn’t really known what to do other than silently sit next to him and wait until he was ready to talk.

Another half hour must have passed before Ed had noticed him shift slightly in his periphery. “I can’t do it,” he declared, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Of course you can. We’ll be right there with you, for all of it,” he promised in return quickly.

“But he’s going to look at me, Ed. He’s going to look at me and he’s going to hear me speak and he’s going to /see/… he’s going to see I still have the injuries…”

“And then he’s going to get locked up for a very, very long time.” Ed reached over carefully, taking his hand, resting it on top of his thigh. “I’m not pretending it’s not going to be hard, Iz. It’s going to be fucking horrible, I know that. But… he has to get what’s coming to him.”

Izzy looked down at their hands, pressing the pads of his fingers gently against Ed’s. “And where does that leave me? Still scarred, still… fucking poisoned. I can’t… I can’t even let either of you touch me like that yet. I know you both want it…” It seemed stupid, all the worries, all the insecurities, running away with themselves. Sex with Ed and Stede was hardly related to what he was worried about and yet in the mess inside his head it all seemed to interlink. “So he gets put in prison and where does that leave me? Still mentally fucked…”

“Baby, don’t say that,” Ed breathed with a frown. “You’re recovering from abuse. We don’t care how long it takes you, for any of it. If you never want us to touch you like that then we won’t. I’m not saying seeing him get locked up is going to be the magic, solve everything cure. But knowing he will never hurt you, or anyone else again, that he’s getting punished for what he did to you. That’s… surely that’ll help some part of you to find peace?”

Peace. Izzy wasn’t really sure he’d ever found peace. He wasn’t really sure he had ever wanted to find /peace/, per say, he just wanted to live. That’s all he’d ever wanted, since the day he met Ed.

Ed had coaxed him into bed then, wrapped his chilly body up in blankets and carefully sandwiched him between himself and Stede, who had half-woken at the shifts in the mattress and bundled Izzy close in his arms, burying his face in his hair and breathing softly to him that they had him, they were there, they were going to always be at his side, like he fucking knew what they had just been talking about.

That was what Izzy was thinking about now, as he begun on his third attempt to tie his tie. He hated ties. He didn’t do ties. You could be smart without a tie, that was always his thought. But somehow it felt necessary today, or rather Stede had deemed it so.

Maybe it would have been easier if his hands weren’t shaking. Or if the last time he had worn a tie hadn’t been for a funeral. Or if none of this was happening. Yeah, that would be easier.

There was a gentle knock on the door that had his eyes shooting up from where he was glaring at his own reflection to the reflection of the door, and Stede was stepping into the room. He walked slowly over, standing behind Izzy and placing a hand on his shoulder. “Can I…?” he asked softly. Izzy held his gaze in the mirror for a moment before nodding and turning to face him. Stede dropped a kiss to his forehead as he leant in and flawlessly, almost seemingly in one movement, tied a perfect knot in the tie, carefully tightening it to settle at Izzy’s collar. “Perfect,” he murmured gently. “We’ve also got one more thing for you…”

And if on cue (or exactly on cue, because Stede liked being theatrical) Ed appeared in the doorway, a soft smile on his face. Izzy cast his eyes over, quirking an eyebrow at the fact Stede seemed to have convinced Ed into a tie too, but he didn’t comment.

“You need to tell me if this is overstepping,” Ed begun and Izzy immediately narrowed his eyes at him. What a way to put him on edge before they even started. “But I noticed the other night you still have your wedding ring…” Izzy felt his heart stop. His eyes darted to Stede, then back to Ed, frozen in place. Ed didn’t know. In fact, he’d blatantly lied, told Ed he had sold it. Ed said he’d done the same with his. Izzy never believed him, and always wondered if Ed didn’t believe his lie either. “We just thought…” Ed sighed, clearly electing to give up on trying to use his words and instead reached in to his pocket, pulling slowly from it a gold chain, which Izzy’s wedding ring hung from, stone glinting gentling in the low sunshine that poured through the window.

Izzy glanced to Stede again, then back to Ed, taking a breath before opening his mouth to begin his inevitable protest, exactly seemingly as they had anticipated. But before he could dive in to it, begin to protest, to them tell what awful that idea was, how they just couldn’t go there, not right now, how complicated and outright /dangerous/ that could be, Ed was raising his other hand, reaching down between his collar, and tugging from underneath a silver chain, slightly finer than the one he held in his hand. And there hung, plain as day, his own wedding ring.

“Don’t tell me you ever believed me when I said I sold it.”

“I didn’t,” Izzy retorted, staring at the ring. “Just like you didn’t believe me.”

“Of course I didn’t,” Ed chuckled, stepping closer, extending his arm to hold out the chain to Izzy. “Even if today we have to let go of your hand, at any point, you’ll still have this.”

Izzy looked over at Stede again, a frown settling on his face. “And you…?”

“It was my idea, Izzy,” Stede replied, taking the chain from Ed himself. Of course it fucking was. “May I?” This wasn’t the mental battle to fight today. And maybe deep down he didn’t want to. So he simply nodded, letting Stede step behind him again to secure the clasp, feeling the cold tumble of metal against his neck as he tucked it in under his collar, out of sight, feeling it warm quickly against his skin. Ed tucked his own back in too, coming to stand in front of Izzy and press their lips together gently.

“Remember, we’re doing this together…”

---------------------------------------------------

Seeing him was even worse than Izzy feared it was going to be. When his eyes first landed on him as he was led into the room, he felt his chest ache so deep, so harshly, that he had to steady himself against the table. Everyone was there, absolutely everyone. The gallery was filled with their friends, the crew of the bar, everyone that had been through this fucking awful process with him. He had been allowed one person to sit with him, and had begged for Ed to stay at his side the whole time and not let go of his hand, under any circumstances. The fact that those words had tumbled from Izzy’s mouth, so desperately, had made Ed clutch his hand like it was his only fucking mission in life. He wasn’t going to fuck this one up.

It was hours. Hours of Izzy reliving his own fucking nightmares. Hours of testimony after testimony. Hours of words of pain and torment and his own living hell put out on display for everyone to see, to hear. When he had to speak, he tried to stop his voice shaking, tried to not let it obviously crack. He tried his best to not seem /weak/ in front of him, tried his best to take deep breaths against his still-aching ribs and get out his words as accurate and steadfast as possible. He didn’t think he was doing too badly. When the images Stede had taken of his injuries were shown on screen to the court, he had to avert his eyes, and he knew Ed had too by the way he squeezed his hand a little harder, and could feel his warm breath against his ear, whispering ‘you’re doing so well’.

Undeniably, it was one of the most draining experiences of his life. He knew it was just the beginning. This was only day one. The full process had been explained to him, though he was sure he wasn’t exactly listening and that Stede would need to tell him again at some point, slowly and carefully, preferably whilst wrapping him in his arms and holding him close. But today he could get it out, today he could talk.

By the time they had finally finished on his testimony, Izzy felt like he had never shaken more in his life. He could feel the breath catching in his throat, feel the way it stuttered in his chest, tight and restricting. His stomach churned, his tie suddenly far too tight despite how careful Stede had been in dressing him. Every single mark, scar, bruise, CJ had left on his body burned in unison as he slowly raised his gaze.

He hadn’t looked at Jack once, the whole time he had been speaking. He couldn’t bring himself to even look in his direction. Now he had finished, something inside him told him he just had to look, just once.

Inevitably, CJ had this smirk on his face, jeering, like he was /enjoying/ everything that was tumbling out of Izzy’s mouth. The way Ed squeezed his hand again when he noticed him look up gave him the strength though, the strength to be defiant, to hold his gaze and think one final ‘fuck you’ to him. Because he’d done it. No matter what had happened now, he had said it all aloud, for everyone to hear.

When they finally declared the end of the session, Izzy didn’t know how his legs were carrying him, or where, but he was dropping Ed’s hand and out of the room before anyone had the wherewithal to react.

Time moved in slow motion, he moved in slow motion, stumbling down the corridor, desperately trying to find a door /out/. Out into the fresh air, out where he could breath. Out where he could find… peace? Ed had spoken about peace. Ed.

His hand pulled at the chain around his neck, tugging out the ring and gripping it hard in his palm, warm from where it had been sat against his skin, smooth on the inside from the years of wear, rough on the outside from the pits and scratches from years of work. Ed had talked about peace, when Izzy had thought about living. Finally starting to /live/.

Izzy has always thought when you’re a kid, people always ask what you want to be when you grow up, what you want to do with your life. He knew the acceptable answers were usually about careers, jobs, houses, cars, relationships, marriage, children; physically things that you get mostly through skills and money. Things that can be measured, judged, compared to the person next to you, to discover if you have succeeded, or failed. He knew the acceptable answers were ones he never wanted, never gave.

Still, you’re then told all of that is unobtainable unless you do well in school, get a degree, get a good first job, climb the ladder, earn enough money to buy a house, move to a nice area, meet a nice person, get married, have kids, make sure you get them into a good school, and so the cycle begins again. So creates the never-ending prophecy that life is for obtaining, collecting, achieving, marking each success down as being because of your hard work, your effort, your knowledge, your power, your skill. Izzy could even remember lamenting with Lucius once that even falling in love had been put down to a science these days.

But he wondered now, what about living, just to fucking live? What about waking up naturally with the sunlight, watching the way the clouds form their own universes in patterns in the sky, the soft haloed pastel colours illuminating them in an incandescent glow of another world? What about feeling bare grass beneath your feet on one of the first proper days of spring, when it’s finally warm enough to step outside just for the sake of stepping outside? What about calling a friend just to talk, just to hear their voice, just to hear about their day, just to have meaningless yet so meaningful words exchanged about nothing in particular and everything in your lives all at once? What about feeling the sunlight on your face, glowing, smoothing out the lines and creases and tensions, and taking a deep breath of fresh air? What about walking, just walking, with no true destination, with the beat of your own music inside of your head and the hum of your own breath in your chest?

What about just living? Something you can’t measure, can’t compare. What about just fucking living?

Finally he was falling out of a door, feeling the cooling spring rain hit his skin, the air heavy and thick with another storm rolling in. He had spent years not quite knowing what living was. He had survived, barely, not really knowing how he got from one day to the next and only knowing that was all he had to do. He didn’t really know about living. Not until he met Ed. Then he had discovered what it was like to /live/ life, to really live it. To love every breath and every heartbeat. To hang on every word, every syllable, just to find out what was next. To love, and be loved in return. Ed had showed him all of that once. Now he was going to show him again, along with Stede.

Izzy’s knees hit the floor, harsh against the cold, wet paving slabs, the rain pouring down on top of him and instantly soaking through his jacket, his shirt, dampening down his hair until it fell in strands across his forehead, into his eyes.

Hearing the door that he had fallen through moments before open again, he glanced back to see Ed run through it, not hesitating for a second in stepping out into the rain, coming straight over to Izzy and sinking to his knees in front of him. Carefully, gently, with all the consideration in the world, he reached out and brushed his hair back off his face, out of his eyes, hand resting on his jaw.

“You did it baby,” he whispered. Izzy nodded a little, knowing now that his eyes had filled with tears that were cascading down his cheeks, chasing the large raindrops over his skin. “Come on, let’s go home, yeah?” He shifted off his knees, to crouch, offering his hands out to Izzy. “Need a hand?”

Had they really come full circle, after all this time?

Because it had been raining when they met.