Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One night, in the middle of nowhere, but still by the sea, outside of an unfinished inn, a hand clawed its way through the plot of recently overturned soil below a cross fashioned from a hunk of wood and the twice-repurposed leg from the figurehead of The Revenge.

Soon enough, it was two hands, and Israel Hands reemerged from under the dirt that held him underground and pulled himself into a seated position. The first real lungful of air was almost a revelation. He’d taken a lot of things for granted lately. Like having all of his limbs intact, not being in some form of pain, not smelling the stench of rotting flesh, and having a relationship with his boss that looked normal from the outside. But breathing, something that simple, he hadn’t been deprived of it often enough to really appreciate having the ability to get air into his godforsaken lungs. It was almost like when he choked him, the almost crushing pressure that finally, finally got him to shut up for once and let his boss talk. When he was sufficiently done explaining the point, he’d usually shakily let go, like he had been possessed by something lurking under his skin and just got control over it back. Izzy didn’t mind that, didn’t notice the tremor in Edward’s hand, the one that went away when he clenched and unclenched his fist and growled out his orders, he was busy remembering what it felt like to breathe again.

He didn’t entirely realize why, but this new lungful of air felt like survival, the feeling of Edward pulling him tight to his chest in the early days after a raid cut close until the last second. Some of the last times he felt anything but wanting, dread, or fear any time he felt Ed’s body press into his own.

He survived something. That was his first real thought, lucid as he could manage, conscious again, barely recognizing his situation. A simple, I survived that. He could’ve savored that feeling, except reality crashed back into his brain, half-baked as it all was still.

Why the fuck was I buried? Who buried me without checking for a pulse?

“What kind of fucking idiot buries a living person?" Izzy muttered, making sure he could still speak, and taking stock of the rest of his situation.

His head pounded, he felt his heart beating in his skull, he definitely wasn’t dead, although breathing was proof enough without him having the pain in his head. His mouth tasted like blood, dirt, and rot. The combination almost made him retch, but he knew nothing would come up and he’d just remember the taste of his own flesh in his mouth along with the bile. There was a sharp pain in his stomach, which was from the latest time a gun had been turned on him and was the cause of his sudden burial, as he remembered. He didn’t feel the sickening, sticky warmth of blood on his skin or his shirt, so he’d stopped bleeding at some point, but he’d still have to be ginger with it not to open it back up. He didn’t look at it, just trusted it wasn’t infected, because he didn’t know a damn thing about what happened since he was conscious again. He’d look it over when he knew he was safe.

Come to think of it, what idiots bury a breathing body? Can’t be Bonnet’s, he had some idiots, but even idiots check that a body isn’t breathing before burying it. Ed’s were just as capable of knowing to check a body for signs of life, Izzy saw to that personally, so they definitely know to make damn sure the corpse isn’t breathing and doesn’t have a pulse before claiming them as a corpse, especially if the body was of someone on their crew, who outranked them, and who they maybe tolerated towards actually liking. Although, Edward had died, took a lot of damage, some of which Izzy saw to personally, and he was… still fucking breathing, even when Izzy was trying to sort out man from myth from monster and how he felt about each part then the collection of those parts who made up his boss, someone he… had some sort of love for, probably even still. he was a sucker for a hopeless fucking case. Any way you slice it, the crew of the Revenge had no fucking reason to bury him. He died on the deck, fell unconscious on the deck, anyway, whatever the fuck happened, he was at sea. Then, he’d clawed his way out of the dirt and was sitting on the ground, solid ground, in sight of the sea, but not near enough to assume it was an accident. Whoever buried him did it on purpose.

Overall, the crew shouldn’t have buried him, they were idiots but not that much of idiots, and he’d last been at sea for three decades or so by his last estimation and told his boss about a hundred times that he would rather rot in the sea than in the dirt on land.

So, where the fuck was he? And who the fuck buried him?

He’d kill Edward if it was the English, unlikely as that felt. But… who the fuck else would?

A few realizations slid into place like jagged puzzle pieces in his brain, facts lodging themselves back where they belonged. He was last bleeding out on the deck of the Revenge, talking to Ed, then he sort of shut his eyes after a while, then he didn’t remember what happened after that, but then…

***

Izzy had opened his eyes in a hazy gray place he didn’t recognize. He remembered getting shot, bleeding, a hell of a lot of bleeding, and trying to make it back with everyone else, then realizing he was completely fucked, and the way he had made peace with dying pretty damn quickly considering how slowly everything moved in the last minutes. And now he was dead.

He sat up, wincing at the pain in his stomach as he did, then his eyes focused on a seagull, standing in front of him.

“Where the fuck am I?” he asked, just to make sure he could talk, since he was pretty damn sure he was alone.

 “Good to see you’re awake. First time I’ve tried to bring anyone back from the dead. Glad you seem lively,” the seagull said.

Izzy blinked. “What the fuck?”

“You’re in the gravy basket,” the seagull replied, as if that was his latest question.

“You’re… a seagull,” Izzy said, feeling utterly fucking stupid, and wondering if he had some kind of head trauma along with whatever happened after he got shot and thought that maybe he was just hallucinating the whole ordeal.  “Talking fucking seagull.”

The seagull tipped its head to one side, considering the notion of that category, then settled on agreement with a nod. Seagull was… close enough.

“What kind of hell has a talking seagull?” he croaked. It was almost definitely hell, the final punishment for the whole decades-long career of crime, murder, and notoriety for that crime and murder, plus whatever else he forgot he’d done but was still a crime, that all probably counted against his few good deeds, and he’d definitely get the lakes of fire and brimstone treatment he heard about in broad strokes.

The seagull laughed. Izzy didn’t know seagulls could laugh, but this seagull was evidently the ruler of life and/or death. Or part of some nightmare he was having. Not the first time he’d had a nonsense nightmare. First time with a seagull, but his life was awfully fucked lately.

“Wasn’t fucking kidding. What the fuck is this, who the fuck are you, and where the fuck am I?” Izzy asked, refusing to acknowledge the fact a fucking seagull was talking to him in his new very cold, hellish home.

“I’m not God, or a devil, sea witch is more appropriate, and like I told you, this is the gravy basket. I used to come here sometimes, only sometimes of my own choice. You have to choose to leave, but I take it you’re not ready.”

 “Choose what?” For all intents and purposes, he was getting used to the logic of the fucking place pretty quickly.

“To die. Or to live. Up to you, really, but I did bring you back to the brink, you were gone.”

“And if I don’t know what I want?”

“Then you’re choosing death anyway. Can’t stay here forever.”

“…If I want to live?”

“You might make it. Might not. Up to fate… and the will of the sea. A cruel mistress, to be certain.”

Izzy sighed, wincing as he breathed too deeply. “Of course it is. What if part of me thinks I’m better off just being here, or whatever’s past here?”

“Then you’re going there. But you probably don’t want that. Most people don’t. Life is hard, but death is harder. Permanent that way.”

“Right. Got no one waiting for me, might as well try the hard way. Have all my life, may as well in death.”

“Mmm,” the seagull hummed.

Izzy glared at the bird. “What?”

“You can believe what you will, can’t tell you what to think.”

“Edward and Bonnet are happy together. The crew might as well be fine without me, no one needs me around. I’m just the leftovers, fucking idiot seagull. I’m better off staying dead.”

“If you weren’t wanting to live, I reckon you’d be gone by now.”

“But what for? I died for the cause of piracy, for having a place to go, a group of people who keep each other alive. I was finished fighting. I’m done with all of that.”

“Are you?”

“Fuck off. Course I’m fucking done. Talking to a fucking seagull, no fucking wonder I won’t make it out of this goddamn place alive.”

***

Then the gravy basket.

Right.

After that, he didn’t remember what happened, if anything happened, outside of digging himself out of the dirt like an undead monster. Decidedly not technically undead, but still, he had to claw his way back to the world of the living. He thought he was living, anyway.

He’d made it out… apparently. The new place he woke up in was about as weird, and completely unfamiliar. He assumed that this new place, whatever it was, was just another layer deep into the delusion his brain conjured to deal with dying.

He realized as he tried to stand, his prosthetic wasn’t on his leg. He managed to get up about halfway before he realized it and was damn lucky he didn’t end up on his ass.

Where the fuck did they put…

He turned to face the grave marker behind him and hissed out a groan. “These. Fucking. Idiots,” Izzy growled. “Can’t check for a pulse, can’t bury a man with his fucking leg attached to his godforsaken corpse, much less his tie. The least they could fucking do, bury me with some goddamn dignity.” He plucked his tie from the marker and redid it under his collar.

He had two seconds to straighten his collar back out when he felt something land on his knee. That was when he realized he was face to face with a seagull.

 Again.

He glared at it. “We’re not doing this again, you fucker.”

The bird ruffled its feathers, like it was offended by how Izzy greeted him.

“Who the fuck buried me like that?” Why did I ask the seagull that? What is wrong with my fucking brain?

The seagull squawked.

“What? You want a yes or no question?” Izzy snarled condescendingly.

The seagull, the bird that should not for any reason respond to Izzy in any way for any reason, nodded.

The annoyance dissolved into exhausted despair in a matter of seconds. He ran a hand over his face. “What the fuck? Nope. Not my question. Fine. This is what it is now. Just… have to fucking deal with it, don’t I? Can you understand me?”

A nod.

“Do you know who buried me like that?”

A nod.

Pointless question. May as well get the basics done anyway, even if the bird is lying or it’s pure chance and it just looks like he understands me.  “Am I dead?”

A head shake.

“Great. Am I in hell? Or insane? Probably am, talking to you like you can understand me.”

Two head shakes.

“Fuck off, the second one was subjective, I disagree with that one, especially knowing I’m talking to you. God, why am I talking to a fucking seagull? Don’t complain to me about how that broke the yes or no questions only rule, it’s… rhetorical, don’t answer that one.”

The bird ruffled its feathers and smoothed them back out again.

It slowly slid into Izzy’s brain that, after Bonnet reappeared to save Ed’s life, and inadvertently save Izzy from the monster Ed became, there was a time when his boss was going on about how the bird guy, Buttons, turned himself into a seagull. Most everyone, Izzy included, thought it was a side effect of whatever he’d done out there when he was banished and made up with Stede more fully. Or that he’d murdered the man for no reason and lied about it. Apparently, the bullshit about sea magic was real, seemed real anyway, and Ed’s whole thing about the fact people can change was also very real. Maybe it could happen, if the dead can come to life again, and a man can turn into a seagull, Ed can get better after everything he’d done. But the important part was the human being Buttons… was a seagull. Apparently. One way to find out.

“You’re Bonnet’s old first mate, aren’t you?”

The seagull squawked, then hopped up to the arm of the grave marker.

“I used to be in there, huh?”

The seagull’s head bobbed once.

“You save me from that? Were you the same seagull when I was half dead?”

Another nod.

“You bullshitting me? I can find a weapon and kill you if I find out you’re fucking with me.” Says the man threatening the bird.

A head shake.

Glad someone wants to keep living between the two of us. “You used to be Buttons.”

A nod.

“And I’m not losing my fucking mind, or in hell, or purgatory?”

A head shake.

“I know it’s yes or no but where the fuck even am I?”

He paused when he heard a voice, Stede’s voice, and froze in a panic. Luckily, his voice came from inside the shack, he hadn’t seen him, and Izzy felt damn stupid for getting scared like that. The first time Bonnet had ever scared him was because Izzy wasn’t dead, and he didn’t want to be seen before he could sort it all out. Pitiful. Blackbeard’s loyal dog was getting awfully fucking soft lately. Should’ve died when I did, clearly. I need retirement if he scares me.

“Bastard,” he hissed.

Apparently, he was alive, unless hearing the voice of your old boss’ boyfriend was a new type of torture for hell. He figured it wasn’t and glared at the seagull again. Only one way to know shit like this, I guess.

“Am I actually alive? I can’t imagine hell being like this.”

Another nod.

Izzy swallowed hard, not quite ready to figure out the next answer to his question. “Is Edward here too? Blackbeard, or whatever, Edward Teach, the man who was the captain of the Revenge with Stede Bonnet who I hope to fuck you recognize. They’re both here?”

A nod.

Izzy slumped slightly in relief. “Good. I’d kill Bonnet myself if he left him again. They buried me out here?”

A nod.

“They took my leg and tie?”

Another nod.

“What kind of fucking idiots are they? Don’t answer, it’s not even a yes or a no, but still, don’t fucking tell me what they think about this.” He paused, trying to sort the facts out, brain scrambled to hell, sentient seagull not helping the situation.

The two idiots, who he worked for, mainly Edward because Bonnet would think him acknowledging his work with him as Captain was adorable and a sign that he was warming up to him, which it wasn’t. The two idiots, they decided to fuck off from piracy ,which made more sense with Edward, but Bonnet had sort of a weak stomach for death, supposedly, killing Ned Low like that wasn’t exactly what he’d expect from a weak-stomached, barely-there pirate, but he was Bonnet, so it wasn’t that shocking, either the murder or the leaving with Edward, and… the two of them moved marginally farther from the sea, to live on land, in… whatever the fuck building they found, terrible as it looked. Four walls and a roof without holes would’ve been better, livable at least, but fucked if they knew that, apparently. Then, after finding a shack in God knows where they collectively were, their idea (hoping to God or whoever the fuck, that it was not Edward’s idea, he seemed at least mostly like himself lately, and he used to be sane and had usually at least mostly normal ideas and thoughts) was hey Izzy’s fucking dead, let’s ignore his wishes entirely, and bury him here, where he’s never been in his life, he’d like that? Seriously? What the fuck were they thinking? Would the seagull even know? Probably not, but—

“This is their new place, for whatever they were planning after everything settled, and they buried me beside their… shack?” Maybe clarifying would help, maybe Izzy’s brain would unscramble as soon as he figured out how Ed’s fucking brain worked. Maybe he’d die out here before he’d find out. Maybe bringing him back to life was flawed somehow. Maybe he’d just die again, pointlessly back, getting his last chance to unfuck his life, and fucking it up more. Seemed fitting.

A nod. An unhelpful, clarifying nearly fucking nothing nod.

“Fuck me. I told him to throw my corpse overboard when I died. Edward never fucking listens.”

He went back to glaring at the grave marker and took it down, replacing his leg, getting up gingerly and readjusting to it yet again, for what felt like the thousandth time, replacing the wood with a hunk of scrap he picked up behind the shack, shoving it into the ground with more force than was necessary to remake the grave marker that now stood in front of an empty, unmarked grave. Serves you both right for taking my things.

He glanced back at the seagull, who’d watched him work. “So, you saved me. You want me to sort things out, live a better life with my second chance?”

The bird ruffled its feathers, noncommittal, and fucking irritating. Same shit as purgatory, no question about it, that bird was still the same fucking seagull.

“Up to me then? Great. Love how I get to fucking choose.”

A bird shrug, still noncommittal and obnoxious.

“Don’t be rude. I outrank you. Probably.”

Another shrug. Even he wasn’t sure how ranks worked between two first mates who were both for all intents and purposes pretty much dead to anyone who knew them.

“Fuck off. I didn’t ask you to do this. I was ready to be done. Not gonna thank you for bringing me back, either because this is awful.”

The bird blinked.

“Why are you still standing there? Go… do whatever birds do, leave me be.”

The seagull stood still, watching Izzy. He almost reached out and shooed him away, but he had a thought. A terrible, stupid thought. It needed an answer before he forced him to leave.

“Wait. Edward always has a stupid fucking plan up his sleeve. I would hate it if you said yes, but Christ, I— is this a stupid fucking Ed plan? He know you could do this shit?” It’d track, he’d always do stupid shit that wasn’t like him if he had a plan, not fucking tell anyone it was a plan until Izzy had lost his temper on him ten times over and threatened him pointlessly as he continued his plan silently while still being fucking weird. He wouldn’t tell anyone until it was practically over, because he always said he thought everyone got the idea. It even made sense to how Izzy told him a dozen fucking times over the years that he hated the burials dead pirates got when it was an execution. Unmarked grave on land, fucking distasteful. He wanted something entirely unnotable, so no one could claim his death as another head on their wall, and not remove himself from piracy entirely because he still liked it, no matter what Ed said, thought or did. Also, after spending years of his life at sea, he liked the idea of being there when he died. Maybe the latest fuckery was to fake his death, for who knows what reason, and… Izzy was never good that guessing the outcomes of Edward’s stupid fucking plans. Maybe that would change now he was freshly undead. Something had to give, maybe it could be a positive.

The seagull shook his head.

“Great. Love being an accident. Least Bonnet didn’t leave him to rot.” His death was total bad luck. Good to know, same with Stede not leaving Ed by himself after the plan blew up in their faces, and he got shot and died. Not like he figured he would, but still. Good of Bonnet not to abandon the man with abandonment issues, especially when he’d lost Izzy, whatever he felt about him after everything was said and done. “I think I’ve got it all sorted, you can really leave me be now, won’t try to die again, not yet anyway.” He glanced warily at the seagull, expecting him to say something, but he didn’t, it took him for his word, and left him alone.

“Fucking Christ,” Izzy muttered. He had no idea what he was going to do about Ed and Bonnet. Sitting and glaring at an empty grave wouldn’t help, so he got up, found his footing, momentarily irritated he still wasn’t steady enough on the leg to call it a full adjustment yet, and walked up to the shack.

The back of it, specifically, out of view of any windows, and sat again, bracing his back against the siding.

Normal men would probably get up, go inside, and say something about being alive again.

The issue with that, besides the fact Izzy knew he was the furthest thing from normal to ever have lived, was that he wasn’t exactly pleased with the turn of events.

He’d been buried outside like a family pet against his wishes, brought to life again by a seagull who hardly knew him, and he wasn’t planning on any of that happening. He figured he’d get discarded, buried at sea, let Edward forget all about him, and let his corpse get eaten by the real Kraken, or whatever lived down there. It’s what he deserved. This whole… fucking resurrection shit, that wasn’t normal.

He heard two familiar voices coming from inside, having a conversation Izzy didn’t want to try to hear.

Izzy couldn’t just ruin their fucking lives. They’d evidently dropped piracy, Ed was probably trying to shed the curse of Blackbeard still, Stede trying to pick up the pieces and help his boyfriend cope with the mess that had been his life for a decade running. If Izzy went back, did the whole hey I was dead up until maybe 30 minutes ago thing, a fucking seagull brought him back from the dead, they’d never believe it.

They were both used to weird shit, but seagull magic was a lot to cope with, Izzy didn’t believe it and he practically dug himself out of the fucking ground. He’d upset them both and end up outside again. It was what would happen, and he hated the look on Ed’s face when he was disappointed. He knew he’d be disappointed, he looked damn heartbroken when he was dying, but he’d be more upset knowing it wasn’t permanent.

He hated the idea of them wanting him dead. So, he figured he had one option: keep playing dead until he could die again. And not let any birds bring him back again, because he wanted out. Permanently.

The conversation from inside the shack slipped through the walls, and directly into Izzy’s skull. It was romantic bullshit, some stupid plan for the next day, something about breakfast, then some fucking project after a long pause that definitely meant they’d kissed. Izzy tuned it out. He didn’t need to hear it or know their future plans, he had his own. Get the fuck away or die trying. He tried dying before, fucking missed the gunshot and had the scar on his forehead to prove it. They’d stripped his weapons off him after he died, so he had no gun or knife to speak of. He had bad luck with guns, anyway, and probably didn’t have it in him to manage to stab himself.

Maybe he could try drowning.

It’d be cold, seawater always was, and it’d be miserable trying to breathe before he fell unconscious, the salt would sting when it got in his lungs, but it’d work. Can’t miss the mark when the water is all around you. Can’t regret it halfway through like jumping off a cliff, he’d be unconscious before the regret and fear of dying could set in, his corpse would sink, so no one would be any the wiser to know he wasn’t dead when he was buried. It was an option. Not that dramatic, compared to stabbing himself, starving or dehydrating himself to death, or walking into the closest forest to get eaten alive by the wildlife.

At least Ed and Bonnet seemed happy with each other, and he’d gotten to see a little of that. He’d known for years he was holding Ed back, keeping him miserable, playing at being his weapon or willing sacrifice at his side, unable and unwilling to leave and let him live on his own. He just didn’t know how to help, how to fix him, get back to how they were when they met. Clearly, he couldn’t, and never could. Ed sounded damn near happy. The last time he sounded like that was also when he was around Stede. He couldn’t remember the time before that.

Izzy knew he was doomed to fuck things up, he finally had his chance to avoid one more fuckup before he died for the last time. He may as well give it a few days, though. He could stay to see how happy they were together, regret how he’d fucked Ed up, see how well Stede was fixing him, because he was, Bonnet was good at fixing damage. Good at saying the one fucking thing anyone needed to hear. Sometimes, anyway. He could also talk until you forgot what your problems were besides wanting to strangle him just so he'd shut up. Both would probably work with Ed. Izzy wasn’t good at either one, which was probably why he tried to kill himself like he did.

No matter how much better off they were, Izzy got a second chance he didn’t want, and he wasn’t sure why he got it, what to do with it besides kill himself at some later date, or if he even deserved it. He didn’t deserve it, but he was pretty damn sure if he didn’t somehow want to keep living, even if it didn’t feel like it, he’d be dead still. He could try living, avoiding his old bosses, and their stupid conversations that he had already heard too much about. Maybe give it two weeks. Or until the exhaustion set in again. He had time until he starved to death, and that’d be worse than drowning. Dehydration too, a lot worse than drowning. He could also figure out how to survive and hide out. He was good at surviving, like a cockroach.

However he felt about it, he decided he’d go along with it, at least, until he got tired of it and figured out a way to die without the seagull bringing him back. It’d be soon if he kept hearing the mushy honeymoon bullshit out of Edward and Stede both, but he could forget he heard anything until his plan solidified.

A handful of hours crawled by as Izzy tried to get his bearings. He didn’t make any progress besides walking around a little and stretching the ache out of his body as much as he could. Then it got late, Ed and Stede went to bed, evidently, it got quiet when he settled back in his spot, the place he claimed anyway, just out of sight and mildly out of the weather.

He slumped down and rested his arm over his stomach. Too hard, he realized, as he hissed in pain.

Might as well check on the damage. I can find alcohol and bandages to clean it up if I need to, at least. Or it’ll be deadly still and I’ll really be done this time.

He gingerly pulled his shirt up and looked at the bullet wound. Oddly, it was stitched up and looked… clean, surprisingly tidily done. It’d leave a hell of a scar, but that wound had killed him.

“Seagull,” he growled. “Got a new question.”

The seagull landed next to him again.

“Did you… fuck this sounds stupid. You clean me up? Stitch up the wound and all that? You don’t have hands or thumbs but seems like only you know I’m alive.”

The seagull nodded.

“Do I want to know how you did it?”

The seagull shook his head.

“More fucking sea magic. Got it. Couldn’t have cleaned the blood out of my clothes?”

The bird shrugged. You can’t expect that much from a bird, he seemed to say.

“Figures. I guess I owe you for the whole thing, huh? Took your post when Ed and I took over halfway, then you disappeared. Now patching me up like that. I take it you want a favor.”

Another shrug. He would take a favor.

Just then, Izzy’s stomach growled.

Right. Even dead men walking need food.

“You want food? I get the idea I’m going to have to steal it or go hungry, I can take some for you too. Don’t expect this every time, you can fly, go wherever you like, not like me, stuck here until I figure something out. Could tell them I survived but… I can’t face either of them yet. Also, you don’t help my credibility. Offense intended.”

The seagull blinked.

Either the bird had to learn to speak English, or he had to get better at speaking bird. Or he could stop talking to the creature like it would respond with fucking words and feel just slightly saner.

“Fine, though. This once I’ll share, I owe you for stitching me up. If I find any food, at least.”

He walked into the shack and realized it didn’t look much better on the inside. He found the kitchen, though, and stole enough food to get something down and share with the bird. He took maybe half of what he should’ve, but he heard them talking and realized he had to leave before he got caught.

***

Ed could have sworn he heard a voice coming from outside. He ignored it, because, well, they were alone. It was part of the whole thing, living by themselves, no one around to say the shit they were doing was childish or not planned out enough. It’s what made the plan good and useful and not objectively awful and miserable, minus the dead body of Izzy Hands buried outside, but that couldn’t be helped. That conversation happened a dozen fucking times and it ended the same way. It was for the best.

Then, he could have sworn he heard a noise coming from the kitchen. Which would have been normal, Stede could’ve been in there moving things around, reorganizing or something. Except, he was next to him, in their bedroom. Their bedroom that was across the inn from the kitchen. He heard the door shut too. Twice. It wasn’t that windy out, he was pretty sure, even if the door refused to latch right half the time (the next project on the list was to fix it, on the ever-growing list of shit to fix) it still shouldn’t have opened and closed twice. They didn’t have a sign up saying the building was an inn, so there shouldn’t be customers, no one should try and break in either, the place looked awful.

The tiniest twinge of hope swelled in his chest, for a moment, as he considered even the impossible options that could cause the noise. Maybe it’s— better not to think of that. he’s gone, you know better.

He must’ve sighed thinking about it, because Stede rested his hand on his arm.

“Love, you seem tense all of a sudden. What’s wrong?”

“I keep hearing things, like weird noises.”

“I have too, but I mainly chalked it up to being the building settling. Would it help if we investigated those noises?”

“…would you?”

“Absolutely. This is meant to be relaxing, even if I’m right and it’s just the building settling, maybe it’s raccoons or something we need to scare off. I’ll look inside, you handle outside?”

“Yeah. You won’t make fun of me if it’s nothing, right?”

“Of course not!”

“Thanks. For not making me feel stupid doing this.”

“It’s alright, I’m curious about it too.”

They split up, Ed still not fully convinced he wasn’t imagining things, just hoping for Izzy to be back still.

It felt stupid, looking outside, he avoided looking at and investigating much of anything, just stared at their surroundings, until enough time passed that he could admit he was being stupid, and the noises were nothing. He couldn’t help but startle at every rustle in the bushes, and a seagull nearly scared the shit out of him in the quiet, but as far as he could tell, the sound was nothing, and absolutely not Izzy back from the dead. Hoping would just disappoint him, even if the stupid possibility was there in his head anyway. To be fair, if anyone could, it’d be Iz. He walked back inside, heading to their bedroom again.

“Well. You finished your search quickly. Find anything?”

“Nope. Sorry I made us both look. It was stupid, and you were right, just a seagull and the wind outside.

“I wouldn’t call it a complete loss. I happened to rummage around in the kitchen a little and found something.”

“A ghost?”

“No, a treat, I think it might help you relax a little. But… if you’re not in the mood for it, I can leave it for later,” he said, tempting him to take the food, and his offer to feed him.

Ed crossed his arms. “You’re trying to bribe me. That’s low, I won’t bother you when I hear the broken door open and shut on its own next time, I promise.”

“Could always be a ghost, too. But, honestly, I’m not bribing you, it’s a treat for no particular reason, because there don’t need to be special reasons for a treat every time.”

“I see how it is. It’s really because you’re trying to get me fat.”

“Because you want to as much as I want to help, and you’d ask for dessert anyway. I honestly checked the kitchen last, and these were sitting out. Are you really going to protest that much?”

“No, I want to. Still…”

“Don’t worry about the noise. It was nothing, if it’s not nothing, we can handle it later. You’re a little on edge tonight, and that’s alright, so long as you let me help you feel better about it.”

“With dessert.”

“Naturally.”

Ed leaned back and stretched. “You’re too good to me.”

Stede settled in closer, setting the plate on the bed, only slightly precarious in its placement, resting his now free hand on Ed’s belly lovingly. “And you look too happy getting whatever you want for me to tell you no. So, come on, I know you want this.”

***

“If they find out I’m alive and stole this, we’re both fucked, you know that?” He muttered, glancing at the bird, and sitting back down. Izzy passed some bread to him anyway, as promised.

The seagull blinked. He didn’t personally think he’d get in trouble, since he was just the middleman, technically.

“Don’t deny it, you’re fucked too, since when they find me, and are pissed I’m not dead, I can blame you, of course they’d never believe me, but I like having someone to blame. Beats being the fuckup who can’t die properly. I wasn’t meant to make it, you just decided for me that I should’ve, and here I am. And now, I don’t owe you anymore, for you saving me, the food repays you for that. It wasn’t a favor, but its repaid anyway.” He grinned wryly and continued. “And I figure you’ll bring me back again if I try to die, so maybe if I keep you distracted, you’ll forget you thought I was worth the trouble to keep alive. No one needs me around, and not even you understood that. I only get it now, dead weight for most of the plan that got me shot. I should’ve let Ed kill me.”

He shoved a bite of food into his mouth. “He’d never forgive himself if he did that, though, even if I deserved it. I’m really glad you don’t talk back now, makes it easier to just think instead of arguing with you. It’s not even your fault you saved me, you’re just a seagull now, probably only tried to just because you heard from the crew members that he kept what happened to me. I heard them talk about what happened, the grim details of the worst shit he did, explaining to them why my leg got fucked. He fucked them up too, but I took his worst, on purpose. I survived it, they wouldn’t.”

He fell into silence as he finished his food, wishing he could’ve avoided the whole process of being back and knowing it was probably permanent. Eventually, he laid down, staring up at the stars, wishing things were back to how they used to be, before he’d broken his boss’ brain and gotten himself killed.

Chapter Text

Izzy was adjusting to his new semblance of life shockingly well. He’d gotten fairly used to not talking to anyone, besides the seagull, and he never talked back, so the conversations were always short and one sided, usually devolving into insults almost immediately. He had gotten used to eavesdropping too, more purposefully after he realized that he could only steal food when he wasn’t going to get caught. He’d gotten more blatant in his thefts within the first night, stealing a semblance of real bedding after he woke up miserable and in pain from sleeping on the ground.

He never really got the guts to go inside and say he wasn’t dead, hadn’t yet, if he was going to hold out hope that he wasn’t a coward, but he also never got close enough to the sea to drown. Maybe something would give, but it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen. He was a coward, as it turned out.

For what it was worth, which wasn’t much, he sort of tolerated the semblance of living he had. He would prefer living inside, if he had to live at all, but Edward was inside, and if he looked disappointed that he’d come back…

He couldn’t go into that godforsaken shack. Every time he thought about it, his heart sank as he considered the ways it could go, no option optimistic. Mainly he thought about how furious Ed looked the times he hurt him, the look on his face when he shot him for telling the truth that everyone was terrified of him and hated what was happening. The way he looked infuriated that Izzy was alive after getting shot and telling the crew to clean up the mess and forcing Frenchie to be first mate, hatred for saying he loved him, the way after the gun went off, he said he loved him. A past tense for a forgotten feeling, for a forgotten man. Discarded when he wasn’t a useful weapon. Then he was still his fucking weapon, trying to deal the killing blow to his boss.

Edward had to be that person still, and Izzy had to be the cause of that break in his fucking brain, since Stede coming back had fixed all his hangups and forced him to apologize for what happened. It was disgusting to think about, but he was sort of envious of the way Stede could explain what happened to Ed, and the fact he survived the attempted murder. It was harder to walk into a building, and explain that yes, he had been dead, and wasn’t anymore and honestly wasn’t sure why he’d survived the ordeal he’d been through to live again.

Amid his miserable thoughts, spiraling slowly into the eventual end point of considering dying again, he looked up. The sky looked dark, too dark for it being so early in the morning. Then a raindrop hit him on the nose.

Fucking hell. Been out here this fucking long with no rain, and now I get to sort this problem out. Fuck.

In a case of the same misplaced nostalgia poisoning his brain, he realized he didn’t get warned that bad weather was coming. Ed’s bad knee always warned him at least a couple hours early, if not earlier. In a nauseating way, he missed Ed. He knew where he was, lying in a room a couple dozen feet away with his boyfriend, knowing how easy Bonnet went on him, but it could’ve been miles and felt the same way. The unattainable closeness he always wanted, slowly but surely rotting his brain into a dull paste over the years he pined for his attention. It’d been that way for a decade, and it hurt just as keenly as it did the first time he felt Ed inch away from him. Even after everything, Izzy was conflicted about his feelings for his boss. He’d been in love with him for so long he didn’t remember what it felt like not to care too much for what he was going through.

The rain got heavier as Izzy shook off the feeling, he couldn’t mope about it, he’d catch a cold in the weather, get sick and die of it. Izzy had to find a place other than outside on the ground to sleep, and before he got soaked.

He walked to the front of the shack and momentarily glared at the porch, covered but unlikely as anything to hold his weight. It looked rotten. Then, he went up the stairs, hating how he had to cling to the rail to get up them. The prosthetic leg made itself known to no longer be his own flesh and blood that obeyed what he wanted it to do at every fucking occasion. He took a deep breath and opened the door, shutting it behind him as silently as he could.

Izzy all but held his breath as he strained his ears to try and figure out where Ed and Bonnet were. Glancing around, they weren’t in the kitchen, which was lucky since he was in direct view of the place. He slowly made his way down the hallway, noting that there was a door at the end that was closed.

Their bedroom, he realized, as he heard Bonnet talking to Ed. He heard him say something about getting up and getting him lunch and Izzy scrambled into the first room he could, shutting the door behind him again, trying to keep quiet. As he caught his breath, he sat down and slumped against the wall.

At least it’s out of the weather.

***

Stede knew the storm was coming hours before the rain had the chance to fall.

“’s gonna rain today,” Ed said, forgoing even a good morning, wincing as he stood up, and sitting right back down. “Still hurts like hell even if I wear the damn brace these days,” he grumbled.

Stede winced sympathetically. “Poor thing. Anything I can do to help?”

“You can’t control the weather, can you?”

“No, I can bring you breakfast, though.”

“That’s almost as good.”

“Glad you think so.”

“Should probably try to walk on it regardless. It’ll hurt like hell, but…”

Stede was already standing, ready to get their breakfast. “But what? I for one can’t think of anything urgent that needs doing today. It’ll be awful outside, leaking in through the roof in some spots still. We also have no customers, so you can stay in for the day if you’d like.”

“Sounds nice, but you know permission won’t make me not feel guilty, right?” Ed was watching him from his seat on the edge of their bed.

“Call it sick leave. I’ve got a fantastic relationship with your boss; I think he’d give you the day off without a single complaint,” Stede said proudly.

“Because I’m also the owner, and my co-owner, even if I love him a lot, is biased.”

“A bias which benefits you. Anyway, really, don’t feel bad about staying in. I’ll probably stick with you, especially if the weather is as bad as your knee feels right now.”

“Usually is about in line, although it’s gotten worse the last few years. Storm probably will be that bad. Were you kidding about breakfast?” Ed looked at him, eyes shiny and pleading.

“With that look, I’m especially not. I’d bring you food anyway since you look like you’re in pain. I won’t force you to get up if it’s that bad. It usually clears up when the weather gets stable again, right?”

“Usually,” he agreed.

“It’s a good morning for breakfast in bed for us both, regardless. It’s the one thing I can do for you, so I want to.”

“You know next time a storm comes, I’m gonna expect to be spoiled again, right?”

“I’m well aware and very happy to spoil you, and I love the consequences of that, you know better. Be back in a bit, love.”  He leaned in and kissed Ed on the cheek before he went to sort out their breakfast.

The breakfast Stede put together was maybe a bit skewed in favor of pastries and bread rather than anything that needed to be cooked, but Ed looked happy, nonetheless. He devoured it like usual, luckily the pain didn’t hurt his appetite one bit, and he looked much happier when he was comfortably full.

“So soft, and gorgeous.” Stede rested his head on Ed’s chest. “You comfy?” He looked up at him adorably, making Ed smile.

“Very. It won’t be my fault if you fall asleep laying on me like this and don’t sleep tonight, though.”

Stede grinned. “It’s retirement. We can do whatever we want, including ruining my sleep because you’re too irresistible not to cuddle with.”

“It’s always my fault, huh?”

“And you can’t move like this, with me on you.”

“I thought I was the one getting spoiled today,” Ed noted, in mock offense.

“You are. I’m just reaping the benefits. Plus, I think I’m allowed to be a little insatiable for your attention after you devoured your breakfast,” Stede replied.

“It was good. It’s someone’s fault I’ve got a hell of an appetite and look it.”

“You’re absolutely beautiful, and I won’t hear any different from anyone. And you’re softer to cuddle like this. Win-win.”

“Love you, babe.”

“I know. I love you too.”

***

Izzy figured out quickly that the room he ran into on impulse was right next door to Edward and Bonnet’s bedroom. He heard the entirety of an incredibly sappy conversation and was lucky he wasn’t terribly nauseous from just how clingy the two of them were about each other.

But still, it was nice to know Stede was still being good with Ed, like he had always been, like Izzy had only recently realized.

Izzy knew Ed’s knee would give him trouble with the rain. It was funny that he still could anticipate his boss like he used to. He’d given Ed similar treatment if the weather got too bad. Unhelpfully, the stupid thought only made him remember that first of all, it wasn’t his job to worry or think about Edward anymore and second of all, he should probably eat something, because he was starving. He skipped breakfast when he dashed in and hid out, and it wasn’t getting any earlier in the day, so it was becoming more likely he’d skip lunch too if he wasn’t careful. He heard Stede leave again, bringing Edward food, not making Izzy feel any fucking better hearing the romantic conversation or the pet names, and once he went back in, and it was quiet for long enough, Izzy left to find something to eat so his stomach could digest actual food and not itself.

The romantic shit didn’t actually hurt anymore, not really. It just made him nauseatingly jealous of them, that Stede fucking Bonnet could fix the damage Izzy’s rough edges and bad decisions caused.

It wasn’t a bad thing, really, because the damage that happened to Edward was deadly, to his own death, made him want to die for a month straight and take stupider risks by the day to try to kill himself. He didn’t want his boss dead, especially not if he was doing better, but…

It just made Izzy wonder why it couldn’t be him, why he couldn’t be the one who fixed Edward into the man he was supposed to be from the start. He’d definitely been doing it wrong, as he listened to the peaceful silence coming from the next room over, trying to think about what the fuck he was going to do if he got caught sitting inside.

He didn’t have a plan, and that should’ve been terrifying. It wasn’t, really, for once, he almost didn’t care if he didn’t have a plan for the contingency. Honestly, he wanted to get caught, in some ways, because it meant he would have to fix his problems rather than letting them fester like an infection.

He knew all too well what infection meant for a limb, and what that logic meant when it was applied to a rotting person. It had to get cut out of him one way or another. He got up and went to the kitchen, got some water and bread, half nervous to take more and half convinced if he took more, he’d get sick. He went right back to the room he was stuck in, guilt wracking his body.

He heard Stede leave again some agonizingly slow hours later. It would’ve been damn simple to stagger out of the room, say hello, or say he was leaving, after playing dead like he had. But his ass remained planted on the floor, his back aching from sitting so still for so long.

They could discuss things over dinner, pretend all of them had a civil bone in their bodies in regard to each other, Stede being the man who fixed Ed’s life, Izzy ruining both of theirs, and Ed being the man who hurt Izzy in multiple ways over multiple years, getting worse a few months ago then miraculously healing from the psychological damage that built up over time. If he wasn’t used to that shit from Ed, he’d have whiplash. He was used to Bonnet too, too nice to survive but still living inexplicably, like Izzy but more appealing, like a cockroach that learned to be nice. It was palatable, if nauseatingly oversweet, like half the foods Edward took a liking to after meeting the man.

Izzy leaned his head against the wall, ignoring his body wanting him to do anything but sit still.

***

Some hours after their lunch and after easy silence, with stede reading and Ed mostly napping, but occasionally asking about what stede was reading, it was time to sort out dinner.

“Soup sound alright for dinner?” Stede asked.

Ed perked up. “Yeah. Sounds great.”

“I figured it was the weather for it, so cold and rainy.”

“Dessert too?” he asked, giving his boyfriend his best too cute to say no to look.

“Always, especially with that look. Any requests?”

“Dessert,” he answered immediately, “anything, really.”

“You’re being very easy today,” Stede noticed.

The look worked flawlessly. “You’re letting me stay in bed all day guilt free and sitting with me. I can be easy.” His smile dropped as he heard the sound of footsteps, like wood hitting wood and one familiar bootheel. Familiar but…. “You hear that noise?”

Stede tried to listen but didn’t hear anything. “No. You’re sure it’s not just the rain?”

“Pretty sure. Sounded like Iz’s footsteps. Weird.”

“I don’t think it’s him, his ghost maybe, but not him.”

“Yeah. Wishful thinking, I guess.”

“Maybe so, love. Not a bad thing, though. Be back in a while.”

Stede returned later with two bowls, handing one to Ed. “Dessert will happen later. Can’t ruin your appetite before you get that in you.”

Ed laughed. “Yeah, sure. Looks great. You can’t keep outdoing yourself, you know.”

“Who says I can’t? Inns have to be known for something. Why can’t ours be known for its food?”

“And the innkeeper who gets fat because his co-owner thinks he looks great that way and refuses to tell him no,” Ed joked.

“That’s no crime. We’ve both done worse.”

“True.”

Staying in one place all day didn’t hurt his appetite, he finished his bowl almost immediately.

“So eager for me tonight, aren’t you?”

“You love it.”

“I do. I’d be worried you weren’t eating enough if you weren’t so eager, so it’s honestly not even a bad thing.”

Ed had asked if Stede could make the orange cake again a couple of days ago, which he made happily. They still had enough left for Stede to cut a healthy slice and feed it to his boyfriend who took every bite willingly, even as he got fuller and slowed down, letting his boyfriend encourage him through enough ‘one more bites’ to finish the sizable slice he’d cut for him.

“That was a lot to get through, love. All good?”

“Mhm. Really good. Really full too, but you knew that already.”

It was true, Stede saw him eat his dinner, plus the dessert and he devoured all of it readily. “You’re just insatiable, aren’t you?”

“And dinner was great.”

“Get enough to eat?” He asked, and ran his fingertips over his belly, feeling the warm softness still layered over the fullness of his body.

“Plenty.”

“Good. Glad you enjoyed it.”

Ed grinned. “I’d say I enjoyed it too much, but the attention gets rid of that idea pretty quick.”

“Good,” Stede repeated. “I’m never going to be in the business of telling you no, or not giving you attention, especially not when you let me spoil you so much.”

Ed arched his back into Stede’s hands happily. “‘m good at getting spoiled like this. Helps that it’s fun.”

***

Izzy had never been so exhausted and unable to sleep in his life. He assumed the utterly happy couple was asleep in their bedroom, it was quiet enough and late enough to be true.  He’d eventually settled for walking across the room, turning on his heel, and repeating the process. Eventually he’d get bored and fall asleep, he had to.

His stomach growled relentlessly as he paced irritably, insisting that bread and water was not lunch and would not be dinner, but he couldn’t bring himself to steal food again.

He wasn’t supposed to be sitting there still alive, he was meant to be rotting in the sea, food for the latest sea monsters that killed worse sailors.

But he wasn’t. He was stuck, living and breathing, trying to sleep inside a building he had no clue of the purpose of besides the latest place Edward and Bonnet were living. They could’ve stepped down from co-captain positions, Edward already had, Bonnet had no reason to quit, really, he could’ve been someone noteworthy, like Blackbeard, if he tried to, he was probably a decent way there after his first time killing someone.

He honestly still wasn’t convinced it wasn’t hell. He’d done enough to deserve it, by most standards, he was a hopeless man in life, pining for what he couldn’t have, trying to force everyone into an idea of what they weren’t, only really settling into the notion that he never had to weeks before he died. He let Ed apologize. That was the best thing he had done to date.

That and mustering a degree of niceness for Bonnet, because he was a better man than Izzy could have hoped to be. Better for Ed at the very least.

That line of thought didn’t help his brain realize he was exhausted and needed to sleep. Dinner would probably help, if he could get any food in his stomach, it wouldn’t consider digesting itself for sustenance for a while, but he decided earlier that he was going to be stubborn, only stealing food when he needed to. Bonnet would figure him out if he did, or they’d make up some stupid ghost story.

No ghosts stole food, though. He’d have to get better at the ghost act if he was ever going to use that story. It was easier to explain than I was scared to see you and fuck you up again. Even if it was true.

Maybe they had alcohol stashed somewhere. He’d fall asleep faster if he got drunk, but without any food to soak it up, he’d get sicker than he needed to be. He started pacing more loudly, irritation made physical. He was positive Bonnet and Edward were asleep, he heard a distinct good night a while ago.

He could try getting into the woodcarving again. He hadn’t done it since he made the shark and gave it to Spriggs. He just needed scrap wood and a knife. He could steal both in the morning, although the stuff that got wet would be irritating to use. He also had to trust himself to use the knife and not hurt himself, but he seemed to be alright in that regard.

He was broken out of his half-assed planning when he heard footsteps and stopped dead where he was standing, in the middle of the room.

His heart dropped in his chest just as he realized it wasn’t Edward’s footsteps, but that thought wasn’t as comforting as it needed to be. The door opened slowly, and he saw the face of the only other man who lived in the shack besides Edward. The man slowly went pale, and he nearly dropped the dishes he was holding.

There was a long pause, as Izzy stood still, only moving to breathe.

The man found his words, and Bonnet squeaked out a few confused questions. “Izzy? Izzy Hands? Is— is that you?”

Fuck.

This was always going to happen when he got too fucking careless. His peace and quiet died then and there.

***

Despite his best efforts, Stede couldn’t sleep. The quiet was oddly eerie, only hearing the rain hitting the roof and Ed’s breathing. It should have been enough to sleep, but after a while of trying in vain, he heard odd footfalls.

It was like uneven pacing, with one bootheel hitting the floor, and the dull thud of wood hitting wood, slightly louder than the rain, very closely blending in with it.

I suppose I can get the dishes back where they belong now, maybe investigate if this place really is haunted. I’ll have to tell him that I heard his noise, apologize if I made him feel like he was hearing things.  

He hadn’t read very many horror novels, but the ones he had were never about haunted places, usually they were more philosophical, about the monstrous nature of mankind and the horrors of playing God when one wasn’t meant to.

But the footsteps sounded human, so he might as well see what was happening.

Right next to their room was a door he could have sworn was open that morning. He hadn’t looked after that, but he thought it was open.

He opened it, hesitating, as if he thought subconsciously that it wouldn’t be empty.

Then it wasn’t empty. The noise stopped as soon as the hinges creaked. He nearly dropped the dishes when he saw the figure in the low light, metal ring on his tie glinting as he breathed. It wouldn’t have been strange that he breathed, except for the small fact they buried him months ago.

The figure was breathing. He shouldn’t be, even if the thought sparked some hope.

Izzy was— they—

Eventually his brain caught up with his mouth, and he managed to speak.

“Izzy? Izzy Hands? Is that you?”

The man—presumably Izzy Hands, their First Mate when he and Ed were pirates—grinned, like he was in on a private joke.

Or maybe like he was prey, cornered by a wolf, but still mustering enough fight to bare its teeth to try and scare its captor away.

Izzy—or the man who’d taken his place—laughed a little, harsh in his throat. “Bonnet, really. Who the fuck else would I be? It’s just you and Edward out here.”

“A ghost,” Stede replied stupidly.

“Good to know I could’ve used that excuse. Too late now, though. Not a ghost, Bonnet, think it over for just one more minute.”

Looking at him closer, scrutinizing his form, there was still a hint of a bloodstain on his clothes at his stomach, where the bullet hit him, and a hole torn in the middle of the bloodstain. Truthfully, he really did look the part of a ghost, pale, and still wearing the clothes he’d died in. The only difference was the fact he was breathing.

“We— Izzy, we buried you.”

“You really think I don’t know that? You should know to check for a pulse before dumping a corpse. Didn’t know that was the real lesson I had to teach you when you asked me to make you a better pirate. Also, for the next time you try to bury someone, living or dead, don’t do it outside your shack. It’s fitting for the family dog, not a human being.”

Stede crossed his arms and frowned indignantly. “First of all, we did check, your heart wasn’t beating when you were dead, second of all, it’s an inn, and third, we buried you here like that because I thought it was fitting for our friend, or at least for the sake of your dignity, if friend is too familiar for you even now.”

“My dignity. As if I’ve got more dignity than half a scrap left these days,” Izzy fumed.

Stede chose to ignore his complaint and sort out the logistics. “How long has it been?”

“Few hours, I’d get sick and die in this fucking weather, had to come in eventually.”

“In general, Izzy, not just today,” he replied sharply, hoping that his tone would come across as more I’m your boss still and less desperate and pathetic. To be fair, he hadn’t expected to come face to face with Izzy, in the flesh, breathing.

Izzy sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know. It’s not like I marked my time in notches on the wall, or even thought to keep track. The days blend together after a while, I haven’t kept track of it. My best guess is a few months.”

“That makes sense.” Stede nodded.

“You don’t have to lie,” Izzy said, eyes flicking down to the dishes Stede was still holding then back up to his face. “You can put those away, too, I won’t bother you two again, I’ll be out when the storm lets up.”

“I will in a moment, I still want to sort this out with you. It does truly make sense. We’ve been here a few months, and a week after we moved in, food started going missing seemingly at random times. Now I know it’s you and not Ed. I was beginning to wonder if I was inadvertently not feeding him enough.”

“Lot of dishes for just you two,” he noticed.

He flushed; he couldn’t help it. It was a bit more than even he expected Ed to eat, and Izzy wasn’t exactly privy to the way he’d been eating lately. “It’s not that many, just the dishes from when we had dinner, the storm gave him trouble like usual, so I decided he could stay in our room for the day.”

“Glad he lets you take care of him.”

“Right. He told me that you used to have trouble getting him to eat. Along that line, have you had dinner?”

“Not even going to ask why I’m back. Polite to a fault, even now.”

“Fine, I’ll bite, even if you’re avoiding my question. What happened to you?”

“There’s that seagull who never leaves your place alone. Remember when Edward went on and on about how Buttons turned himself into a bird with some fucking sea magic and a bowl? That’s him. The magic shit was real.”

“And—”

“He stuck me in the gravy basket to sort my shit out, which only brought me back. Now, I’m here, trying to sort out my miserable fucking life before I figure out what the fuck I’m doing next.”

“And not coming inside and telling us you’re alive.”

“More or less.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know why already? I gave you too much credit.”

Stede winced. “Yes. Right. You’ll have to forgive me, I missed most of that period of your lives around him.”

“Yeah, since you and I caused it,” Izzy muttered.

“You aren’t at fault nearly as much as I am. I was the one who got kidnapped before we planned to reconvene at the docks.”

“You got kidnapped, then.”

“I wasn’t intending to leave him, Izzy, although after I was sort of kidnapped, I thought I ruined his life, and me running away was my—really awful—idea of saving the last bits of who he needed to be. I also witnessed an accidental suicide; the situation wasn’t ideal by any means.”

Izzy scoffed. “You didn’t ruin his life. His reputation as the infamous seasoned pirate, absolutely, but even then, it was still intact by the time you found him again.”

“I’m glad at least you don’t feel like I’m a fuckup.” He smiled tightly.

“He’d agree with the whole not fucking him up thing, I think. If anything, you make him a better person than I ever did.”

“Now that that’s settled. Dinner. Have you eaten in the last few hours?”

Izzy gritted his teeth. “No.”

“There you go. Easy enough, isn’t it?”

“You do remember who the man who ruined your boyfriend’s life was, right? If I were you, I’d kick my ass out of your fucking inn and let me die outside.”

“Then you’re lucky I’m not you, and I disagree with that idea. Come on, I’ll show you to the kitchen.”

“And not to find your boyfriend and say, ‘look who I found outside of our room living in our storage like a rat.’”

“You are better than a rat, he is sleeping right now, and I personally would rather not wake him up. He looked peaceful.”

“Sappy fucker.”

“I can wake him in the morning and say, ‘good morning, Ed, look who I found trying to starve himself to death next door to our bedroom.’”

“I’m not trying to starve, I—” Izzy started, swiftly cut off by his stomach growling loudly enough for both men to hear. “Damnit.”

“That says different. Come on.”

Stede led Izzy, almost by the hand, his hand was clasped onto Izzy’s wrist, into the kitchen, as if he didn’t know the way already.

***

Izzy wanted very, very badly to murder Stede fucking Bonnet.

One man kept him from that, and he was asleep in the next room.

He had to admit, in a particularly disgusting way, that having Stede’s hand wrapped around his wrist, tight enough he couldn’t slip away, close enough he felt the heat of his fingers on his skin, was… nice. Being all but dragged to the kitchen by the arm was not nice, but the first human contact he’d had in some months was admittedly something he missed. The pressure of it halfway reminded him of when Fang hugged him, more like crushed his body physically, to make him feel better about almost crying about the toxic nature of what he had with Blackbeard. He appreciated it enough in the moment not to say he was getting crushed because he knew it would end the moment after the intervention and he needed that moment to clear his head about what had to happen.

The feeling of Stede Bonnet’s hand on his wrist was not going to make him cry. He felt hot tears behind his eyes, and he blinked them back.

It is a hand on your wrist so you can’t get away. Don’t be a fucking sap. It doesn’t even mean anything. Nothing more than a fucking hand on your fucking wrist. Not like you even like that man. You are going to be gone by morning and you’ll find somewhere else to live after that, so don’t fucking ruin things again.

“Why are you doing this?” Izzy asked, knowing he’d not get the answer he wanted.

“You haven’t eaten dinner, and I’d wager you haven’t eaten enough in months, if not longer, so I am helping you, whether you like it or not,” he answered, dropping his wrist since they were in the kitchen. “Now, sit, we can talk after you get some food in you. Any preferences?”

“No. Besides edible.”

“Great. We’ve got some leftovers from dinner, not terribly exciting, just soup, since the weather seemed to call for it.”

“You make it?”

He must’ve sounded skeptical because Bonnet laughed. “it’s not poisoned, and Ed and I both liked it.”

“If you wanted me dead, I think you’d do it directly. You have a body count now.”

“I had one before Ned, technically, although I’m probably to blame for another one before him too.”

“How the fuck do you technically commit murder?”

“By being at the site of two mildly unfortunate accidents. Now, here, eat.”

He was handed a bowl and a plate. The bowl was full of, as promised, soup. It had more meat and vegetables in it than he was used to, besides the food they’d get shortly after leaving a port, when they had the fresh stuff to use before it went bad on them. The plate had a few slices of bread and butter and looked… shockingly good.

“And here.” He said, passing him a cup of water and cutlery. “So, can I stay, or should I leave you to your meal?”

“You can stay. Just sit. This way you can tell I’ll actually eat.”

“I was hoping you’d agree. There are a few things we need to discuss.”

“Like what?”

“The fact you hid from Ed and me for months. Why on earth would you do that?”

“I think you know why.” He took a bite of the soup, giving Stede time to consider his answer.

“Ed, then. He would want to hear you were alive, Izzy.”

“Sure. He’d want to see the outcome of all the stupid mistakes he’s made in his life again. No, he doesn’t. He’s not stupid, Bonnet. The dead should stay that way.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you terribly. He was trying to mend things with you before you got shot.”

“And I told him to get over me fast, save himself the effort.”

“When has Edward Teach ever followed direct orders?”

Izzy sighed deeply. “Never. But—”

“I can sometimes convince him to change his mind. Rarely. He is hellbent on wanting to fix things and hasn’t had time yet to reconcile that with the fact you’re dead. And wouldn’t you know, you’re not dead.”

“This whole fucking thing was an accident. Do you seriously think I’m happy about it?”

“Well, you’re here still, so one could assume that you were.”

“I’m not. I got taken away from a life I enjoyed and was happy for the first time in decades. I’d gotten over what I had for Edward. I was doing well. Then I got shot. Then you fuckers buried me out here, and I’m alive again, no chance at getting that life back.”

“They said they’d visit.”

“And what the fuck do I say to them? The shit I told you? They think Ed killed Buttons. Half of them hate me, the other half are guilty over what we endured together. That’s not a good way to get back onto a crew. I want in on merit, not pity.”

“Then stay here and live with us.”

“And let Edward live with a collection of fuckups that he’d rather stay dead and buried, no matter what you say about it, I’ve known him long enough to know when he hates someone.”

“He adores you, Izzy, he tells me about you almost every day. If you’d just talk to him, you’d know that.”

“Then can you do me one fucking favor? One favor, all I’m asking. I’ll make a deal with you if I have to, I just… I have to take your help now that you found me.”

“Alright. It depends on what favor you want, I can’t let you hide forever, it’d kill me to lie to Ed like that.”

“Can you hide it until I’m ready? I’ll make myself tell him I’m alive, I just need time. I don’t have anywhere to go, and I can’t die now that you found me, so I might as well tell him now. I can’t promise it’ll go well, or that he agrees that I could stay, or that he even likes me like you think he does, but if you give me time, I’ll make myself do it.”

“I promise you he won’t kill you or hurt you again. I will personally see to it that he doesn’t even think about it. I don’t like having to lie to him, but if it means you’ll stick around here and be safe, until you sort things out or whatever it is you want, I’ll let you do that. but if you don’t tell him soon, I will make you.”

“You know, Bonnet, I think you could’ve eventually been a really good pirate. With enough work, you’d be something.”

“That’s downright kind coming from you.”

“Work with Blackbeard long enough, and you recognize when you can break someone down into being a weapon. You liked the taste of infamy you got. You were damn good at it, too, great under pressure, little more work and you’d be a terror. Why did you leave with him? Killing someone like Ned Low like you did, then fucking up the English with your plan, could’ve been a massive shadow on their lives.”

Stede smiled ruefully. “I had to. I quit piracy for love. I did like it, but I like him more. I would want to be out there still, but… I’m a little afraid of losing him to himself again. So much effort went into trying to help him that if I choose piracy over him, I don’t know how he’d feel. I told the crew that I was done, that I might eventually change my mind, but I wouldn’t for a while, and if I did, it’d be unlikely I’d go back out with them. I wanted to give us time to settle before I told him I might want to go back out, still have the adventures, and get to be liked by a group of people for the first time in my life again. If I still want that, which I’m not completely convinced I do. I saw what it does when your luck runs out on you.”

“You don’t get to make me the example.”

“It hurt Ed too. Hell, Ned’s crew was stifled by him and his leadership. I already knew it was dangerous, I almost died, what, three times by the time you met me?”

Izzy nodded. “Sounds about right. I could’ve killed you when we met, then you fucked around with the Spanish, then Edward could’ve done you in, he tried to, really. It’s how piracy goes. He knew that. Sometimes you get shot and you can’t stop the bleeding. Sometimes you can’t take a blade right, sometimes you get executed by whoever’s waging war on piracy that week, month, or year. It’s what happens to pirates. You get used to it, then you die.”

“Until you don’t. Or you retire.”

“Because everyone gets the second chance I got. Right.” He tore a bite of the bread off and ate it. like the soup, it was almost too good to eat. Better than he deserved.

“That aside, how can I help? I know you’re having trouble taking enough food to not go hungry, and I’m sure sleeping outside is uncomfortable. The easy solution is too difficult, so… what can I do for you to keep you comfortable until you can talk to Ed?”

“You don’t need to do anything.”

“I want to. Because the alternative is that you eventually get yourself hurt or sick and I can prevent that.”

“You shouldn’t want to help me.”

“I still want to.”

“Why?”

“Because Ed loves you,” Stede answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“He loved me. And that was practically a lifetime ago. He just pretends like he cared about me for your sake, so you have better thoughts about him and the shit he’s done.”

Stede furrowed his brow. “Do you really think that’s true?”

“I know it’s true.”

He looked into the bowl, avoiding looking at Stede’s face. He was slightly unnerved by the sheer amount of food he hadn’t eaten yet. He’d barely touched it, like he was afraid it’d get taken away from him if he tried to eat.

“You expect me to finish all of this,” he said.

“You haven’t eaten nearly enough lately,” Stede replied.

“Fine. No promises.”

“All I ask is that you try.”

He sounds too used to saying that.

Izzy took another bite of the soup. “So, you’re the one who’s taken on the bulk of cooking for you both,” he said, trying to… make any conversation that wasn’t outright insults or talking about what happened with himself and Ed what felt like a lifetime ago.

“I am. He had trouble eating enough when we first moved in here, so I’ve been trying to make sure he stays fed. He’s told me lately that I’ve gotten good at doing it, although I suspect it’s flattery, so he doesn’t have to work out what to make almost every night.”

“Edward would tell you if it was inedible. It’s not bad food, in case you were fishing for a second opinion.”

“I’m glad you like it, even if it’s not exactly warm. I really was beginning to wonder if he would eat anything I made.”

“Really, I’ve seen him picky, if you get him to eat it’s a win.”

“Was he?”

“Now you’re fishing for embarrassing stories, aren’t you?” Izzy asked, hearing the sarcasm seep into his tone.

“No really I’ve only seen him avoid food once since we moved in here, and that was when he was freshly grieving your loss, so I’m curious when the last time was that he tried to go hungry.”

“Always when he felt like shit, you don’t want to hear about the last time it happened.”

“Was it… after I seemingly left him?” he asked and winced.

“Was. Someone’s a glutton for punishment, huh?”

“I think I need to hear. I haven’t heard what happened between you and him outside the broad strokes.”

“He went on multiple binges, drugs and booze mainly. The last time I tried to get him to eat was one of those times, a drug binge, taking anything he could get his hands on to numb the shit he was going through. Probably was drinking too, pretending rum was a meal. I got onto him when I noticed, after a couple days of it, he’d hide out then reappear acting like an asshole, so we all knew something was up. I took it on myself to intervene, since I always had. I told him that id get him to eat a real meal, Blackbeard or Kraken be damned, I’d even force it down his throat if I had to.”

“Then he didn’t let you,” Stede guessed.

Izzy grinned ruefully. “Got in in one, Bonnet. Fucking naturally, he didn’t. He threatened me, slammed me against a wall, got his hand around my throat and tried to choke me to death. Then he got more in my face and said if it was anyone’s business what he did or didn’t do, it was his own, and not mine. Said it was his business if he died from taking too much of anything, whether it was from the alcohol or the drugs, or starvation, for what it mattered, and since he was in charge, it wasn’t my job to take care of him, and if he died, I’d get what I wanted, both his death and the post he left behind if he took too much and his body couldn’t handle it. He let go of me and took a knife out eventually, threatened to take a toe since I wasn’t listening, and I kept not listening, and he made good on the threat, and still wasn’t eating and sure as shit wasn’t going to, so I left, told the crew to not go into his quarters for the day, maybe the week if they wanted to live.”

“Izzy…”

Izzy shrugged. “It was what happened. I can’t paint flattering pictures of your boyfriend, especially not during the time he spent hiding in himself and refusing to deal with his feelings. It wasn’t good for him. It’s why I know I’m not good for him. I knew I couldn’t let him kill himself, or anyone else, still thought he killed Spriggs at that point. Then, later on, I gave up. We all figured we could overpower him, kill him, and save ourselves, and if we saw you again, we could let you see the rotting corpse we were hiding until we figured out a way to prove he was a monster when you left him. I was the example, I’m still the example. They probably half blame my dying on the leg, or maybe they don’t, if they forgave him.”

“Did you forgive him?”

Izzy shrugged again, taking a bite of his soup. “Like I told Spriggs, a shark may as well have done it to me, taking my leg, rest of the shit he did to me, scaring the shit out of everyone else. They don’t mean to do it, but the bite mark is still there. I finally decided I wasn’t about to be his weapon anymore, since I wasn’t good for doing it anymore, crew helped me out in getting me up to the deck for the mutiny, just in time for me to be a weapon and kill him. He took my leg then I got shot and died, now I’m back and I don’t know how I feel. I know I don’t want to ruin your relationship with him, because I know how he’d react now if he lost you again.”

“That is not a good reason to hide out.”

“I didn’t say it was healthy, I said it’s what I’m feeling.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Misunderstanding your point, and for distracting you from your dinner. You already know I’m talkative to a fault, and I know you’re not exactly a fan of that, so, I’m going to let you enjoy your food in silence.”

“You don’t need to leave or shut up. I’ve gone days without talking lately, it’s a decent change of pace. Just try not to ask about Edward, if you don’t want to know what happened.”

“That’s the thing, though. I know parts of what happened, stories from the crew and Ed mainly. I’ve heard from almost everyone how badly he took me disappearing. I’m sure this comes as an utter shock to you, in particular, Izzy, but I don’t have the false notions of him that I had when I was trying to find him again. I didn’t leave him there on purpose, that’s a particularly long story you won’t want to hear, it’s quite pitiful, really. But besides that, you should be allowed to tell someone about what happened without worrying about feeling like you’re betraying Ed or whatever you’re afraid you’ll do by saying what happened between you around me. He will never hurt you or anyone else again. I’m seeing to that being true personally. I love him, and that’s why I’m helping him get better after what happened. He wants to apologize to you, again, a better apology. He misses you still, probably always will, and regrets hurting you like he did.”

“And he came to his senses right after we tried to kill him. We fucked up the mutiny, and he was fine after that. Crew tried to help me out too, tried to get me to stop trying to help him, or trying to get him to not be a fucking idiot anymore, since it’d end up killing us all. It got toxic between me and him, was what they said to me.”

“It doesn’t sound like it was good,” Stede replied.

“No shit. It was, they were right, they got clued into what he was doing to me pretty damn quick when I’d come in to warn them that he wasn’t in the mood to be spoken to while I looked like hell. Whole fucking place got toxic after a while. Can we just drop the subject? I don’t think you really want to listen to me rehashing the shit I went through.”

“I’d hear you out, but I take it you’re not in the mood to talk about it. I’ll say one more thing about it. You’ve been through a lot, and that’s why I’m letting you keep hiding. I know it probably won’t help in the long run, but you have your reasons, decent reasons at that, so… I honestly want to help. You’ve done a lot for me recently and you kept Ed alive as best you could, even with a very warranted mutiny. It makes sense that you aren’t in the mood to see him, and I won’t make you, until you’re hiding for long enough that I have to actively lie to keep your secret. I can’t betray him like that.”

“I won’t make you. I’ll get my shit together, and I’ll figure out a way to talk to him again.”

“You’ve really gotten better at this, haven’t you?”

“Better at what?”

“Talking. Being almost agreeable.”

He didn’t give him the satisfaction of an acknowledgment. Instead, he shoved food into his mouth, to keep himself from talking and to keep bonnet from trying to make him eat his food rather than argue.

Stede was watching him with more than a passive disinterest, which felt a lot like he was being scrutinized.

Izzy ignored him in favor of the soup. Either he was half-starved, or the soup was legitimately good. Two things could be true, really, considering the way he was shoveling it into his mouth like it was his first real meal in a while. He would’ve happily kept ignoring him, but he spoke up again, drawing Izzy’s attention.

“Even if you tell me not to leave you food, I think I’ll do it anyway. You must be hungry.”

“Fine. So what if I was hungry? People get hungry, don’t be fucking stupid.” He glared at him, pointedly eating the soup, swiping up some of the broth with his bread. It was shockingly heavy, or it was just the first real meal he’d had in a while, which it was. He hadn’t eaten so well in months. It was hard not to enjoy it, even lukewarm and quickly cooling. Anything tastes good if you’re hungry enough.

“I’m happy to see someone who isn’t romantically involved with me likes what I make, and I’m glad you’re eating, that’s all.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry, just an observation. I do appreciate the fact you’ll eat if you’re asked to.”

“I was hungry, skipped breakfast this morning.”

“And you’re happily making up for that now, I can tell. You’re alright, I’ll stop mentioning it now.”

“Good. It’s fucking weird.”

“But— one more comment, if I may. Even if you don’t like to hear it, you are very welcome to indulge yourself as often as you’d like. There’s plenty of food here, absolutely no rationing necessary.”

“Right, and when you suddenly have to buy food more often, no one will get suspicious you’ve got a stowaway.”

“I don’t think that will be near the issue you think it’ll be, actually.”

“I don’t want to know, but why’s that?”

“Mainly the fact that Ed’s learned that particular lesson very quickly especially lately, and he’s well aware of his own appetite now. It’s a bit more insatiable than it used to be, so I think we can temporarily pass off you taking regular meals as being just his and my own appetites.”

He’d flushed pink at that, a tinge on his cheeks.

I don’t need to hear why he’s flustered by that. Too personal if I’m going to reintroduce myself to Edward and leave.

“So, you’ve got this all planned out.”

“I can be quick with a good plan, in case you forgot. I’m very good at a lot of things, even if you don’t notice my particular skills in the moment, or if they weren’t as applicable to piracy.”

“You’re damn good under pressure. Enough time, and you’d be a terror like Blackbeard was.”

“Which is why I quit.”

“Yeah? Didn’t convince Ed to stay as your guest, clearly. You really retired for him?”

“I liked being liked, I think anyone would, it’s that people I cared about got pushed away when it got to me. So, yes, Izzy, I quit piracy for love. I had a dubiously optimistic outlook for my career as a pirate, but I gave it up for love.”

“Don’t look at me like I’ll make a shitty remark. I mainly want Ed to be happy, like you do, just less… romantically involved.”

“Mhm. Sorry I misjudged you then.”

“Don’t be. I get it. Spend enough decades being an asshole all the time, the one time you’re nice is the time that people think you’re bullshitting them.”

“You have relaxed slightly, maybe less since you came back, but you seem calmer than when we met.”

“If you wax poetic about it, I’ll slit your throat.”

“Fine. It’s still nice to see you calm. And just so you know, since you enjoyed this food so much, it’d be similar if you’d live indoors with us, just warmer, and different meals when I get tired of making the same things over and over again. It’s just an idea for you to think about. Along that line, are you full?”

More than full, he felt the weight of his dinner in his stomach. He was surprisingly full, for not having eaten all day. “Yeah. You can go to bed, and I’ll sneak back to where I’ve been. I’ll be quiet the rest of the night, so I won’t bother you again.”

“Good. Hopefully you get some rest. Good night.”

“Night.”

It occurred to him, even laying curled up on his side nursing a stomachache, that he didn’t mind the feeling of being so full. Even the shame of overeating like that, the clearly gluttonous behavior, it melted into the back of his head with his brain and entire body both feeling like they were slowly passing through molasses.

Maybe living with the two of them wouldn’t be so bad.

If Edward let him stay, that is.

Chapter Text

The guilt had already set in the moment Stede saw Ed waking up.

“Good morning,” Ed said, a sleepy grin on his face.

Absolutely adorable. And I am absolutely going to be lying to you about Izzy by omission. Stede bit back the grimace and smiled. “Hi. This is nice, huh?”

“Mhm. You think the novelty is gonna wear off?”

“I hope not. I like seeing you first thing in the morning. You want breakfast?”

“Always. Can I help you with it?”

“Of course you can.”

After a bit of lazy cuddling, they both got hungry enough to get breakfast together. Stede glanced at the dirty dishes, including the ones Izzy had used.

“You think you can handle the dishes while I start breakfast?”

“Sure.”

Whether he noticed Izzy’s addition to the dishes or not, he washed the dishes, putting them away when they were dry.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Ed asked, wrapping his arms around Stede as he was going about making their breakfast.

“I haven’t come up with one yet. You?”

“Yeah, I was thinking I’d maybe try fishing again, catch something for dinner, if we’re lucky.”

Stede couldn’t hide the concern that crossed his expression. “And you’ll—”

“I’ll clean whatever I catch and bring it in. I know already, don’t have to ask me to.”

“Thank you.”

“We make a damn good team, don’t have to thank me either.”

“You just say that because you have to put work in getting it ready for me,” Stede grumbled jokingly.

“I can also say that because everything you make is great, and I love you and like making things easier for you when I do catch fish.”

“I know. Still, the flattery seems more pointed the more you say it.”

“Then I won’t compliment you, and you’ll think I don’t like it,” Ed threatened.

“Fair enough. You can keep complimenting me then. Your plan sounds good, I may just relax today.”

“Yeah. No reason to do anything yet.”

“At the unnamed inn?”

Ed grinned. “Maybe that’s the gimmick, no one visits the place ‘cause it’s just the where two retired pirates are living.”

“Maybe so. So far, it’s more house than inn anyway. We can use that to our advantage, not name the place and just live out here. But that is a later decision to make. Right now, any requests for breakfast? Besides pastries that I already planned to let you have a few of.”

“Nope. You read my mind.”

“I’m glad you’re so easy to please. Makes keeping you happy very easy.”

“I try. Actually… can we go back to that bakery in town again?” He looked excited by the idea of it.

“Absolutely. We need to pick up some staples soon too. Maybe we can make a little day of it tomorrow, getting food along with the groceries?” Stede suggested.

“I’ll definitely go out on a date with you, since that’s what you meant to ask me.” Ed grinned again, self-confidence seeping into the smile in a way that made Stede melt and feel like he had to explain himself.

“We do honestly need a few things! Can’t waste the trip, even if it’s not that far off,” Stede protested. “I can ask my gorgeous boyfriend on a date somewhat indirectly, and we can get the things we’re running low on. Multitasking.”

“Just keeping you honest. And I already said I wanted to go, babe.”

“I know. I was clarifying my intentions with you.”

“Yeah? You intend to finish breakfast up soon too?”

“And let you eat as much as you’d like, so long as you leave me to cook long enough not to burn you or breakfast. You want tea?”

“Mhm.”

“Of course, your usual?”

Ed nodded. “You’re great.”

“And you are a man of habit. And a man with a real taste for sugar. I like indulging you in both.”

“Which means you’re great, don’t dodge my compliment.”

“Just go sit, I’ll take our plates to the table soon as the tea’s steeped.”

“One thing first.” He pressed a kiss to Stede’s lips, then another to his neck, nipping lightly. “There. Now I’ll go sit.”

“You’re lucky no one’s going to see if you leave marks on me.” Except Izzy. Can’t forget he’s out there now, he reminded himself grimly, not letting the emotion show on his face.

Ed grinned. “Pirates love claiming shit, you know better. And I was gentle. Won’t leave a thing. You left your mark on me already; only fair I try using my teeth on things other than the food.”

Stede theatrically pressed a hand to his chest. “Edward Teach, you’ve bested me. The punishment for being defeated by such a notorious and infamous pirate must be very severe.”

He smiled wolfishly. “Incredibly. I’ve been told my appetite is insatiable. I think it’d be fitting that you let me sate my appetites with breakfast.”

“Such punishment,” he replied playfully.

Breakfast was simple, by most measures, eggs, meat, pastries, which Ed had to himself, Stede wasn’t all that hungry, and toast, but even simple meals were nice with good company.

Particularly when that company was eagerly devouring his food and complimenting him so much it almost didn’t feel genuine.

“I’ll handle the dishes, you can head out. Good luck, I’ll be in our bedroom if you need anything.”

Ed nodded. “Thanks. See you in a while.”

***

Izzy had been up for a couple of hours, watching the area behind the inn. Sometimes he’d venture to the side of the place and watch the sea, but it reminded him too much of piracy, and Ed, and the crew—and it got to be too much to bear after a few minutes of watching the currents move through the water. He’d always think about how that would affect sailing, and then he remembered he couldn’t do that yet, or at all, and his chest ached. So, he stared into the brush and woods, which he hadn’t experienced much of in the last decades and had no nostalgia for, misplaced or otherwise.

Then, Bonnet cheerily ambushed him, and Izzy almost swore and scrambled into the bushes he was sitting next to. Instead, he froze and straightened on instinct.

“What?” he asked, glancing up at him warily.

Stede’s mouth twitched amusedly. “Good morning to you, too. I’ve got your breakfast. Do you have time to chat?”

Izzy relaxed slightly and kept watching him. “Well. You brought your tea with you. I don’t think you’ll take no for an answer, not like you ever do, but still.”

Stede handed him his breakfast and looked down sheepishly. “Oh! I have. I forgot I was holding it, honestly. Did you want a cup too?”

“If it’s not trouble. Call it my payment for humoring you with your chat.”

“How do you take it?”

“Black.”

Stede grinned. “Of course you do. It’s no trouble at all. Be back in a minute.”

Izzy took to his breakfast, realizing it was warm, and good. He missed the food you could have on land, better quality than anything designed to keep over long stretches at sea. Meat that wasn’t salted within an inch of its… death, bread that was soft, buttered, even. Damn good breakfast.

After a few minutes, he was interrupted from his peace and quiet again by a familiar voice.

Stede chuckled. “Well. I see someone else was hungry this morning. Here’s your tea, because you’re worth the extra effort, even if this was nothing.”

“It’s good. Can’t help but eat it if it’s good,” Izzy mumbled, taking the cup from Stede, and sipping it warily. “Thanks for the tea.”

“It’s not a critique, it’s an observation. Ed was just as eager this morning. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was starving you both.”

“The food’s just good. You learn fast.”

“I do things that are simple,” Stede corrected. “It’s easy to do simple things well, easier with practice.”

“God, you can’t take a compliment,” Izzy muttered.

“So, his usual get to you? The way he drinks tea, I mean.”

“I drank his accidentally one time, barely had a mouthful when the taste hit me, then I almost spat it out.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot. A disgrace to tasting the drink outside of the milk and sugar, too.”

“So, I take it he’s always had that sweet tooth of his.”

“Long as we’ve been able to afford sweet shit, he was the first one who went after it. He’s obsessive. Only got to have it regularly when he was a real terror, or when we hit merchants with good shit.”

“Right. Fair enough, even I can’t keep up with him in that respect.”

“So you sat with me to talk about Ed? Pointed as fuck, even for you.”

“I was trying to make conversation. You didn’t inherit the same penchant as he did. I’d figure you’d like it more, assuming you didn’t grow up with it around either.”

“You’d think that. Didn’t have it as a kid, right on that account, but I didn’t get the taste for it. Can’t handle the stuff like him.”

“Because it’s unnecessary? Like your refusal to accept help excluding your most desperate moments?”

 He stopped eating and looked at Stede exasperatedly. “Can you please not crack into my skull while I’m eating breakfast? Or ever, but I have to compromise with you.”

“It won’t make you weak, enjoying things. I personally won’t make fun of you. I’ve been made fun of more than enough to know it’s incredibly impolite.”

“Because everyone cares about politeness.”

“It’d be nice if it worked that way. But of course not. I only asked about sugar because I was making sure you were comfortable. Part of the innkeeper job. Or I’d rather you be alive and well by the time you talk to Ed. Learning how you take your tea and talking to you are vital parts of that. Since you won’t come inside and sleep there, I’m trying to keep you as safe as I can while you work towards that point.”

“Doesn’t mean I’ll appreciate you trying to solve my problems without me asking you to.”

“I’ll try not to. It’s sort of an unfortunate side effect of my upbringing, though. Might be hard to avoid completely. I learned from very early on to anticipate things like that and now I just say out loud what my thought process is because people… found it off-putting.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Izzy said flatly. “It’s really fucking weird when you don’t say what you’re thinking, I get it, but can’t you do it less weirdly?”

Stede grimaced. “I don’t know if I can. It’s a little too deeply ingrained in me to explain myself like that.”

“Fine. I’ll take the loss on that one. Fuck. Why do you put up with me?”

“Because Ed cares a lot about you, and because you are very possibly the best person out of the friends of Ed’s that I’ve met so far.”

“I’m in such great company,” Izzy replied flatly.

“Come on, Anne and Mary weren’t bad, necessarily, just a bit eccentric.”

Izzy was suddenly more interested in the conversation. “How were they? Fuck, been a while since I thought about those two, longer since I’ve seen them.”

“They were alright. Sort of—” Stede trailed off, out of polite ways to explain how they acted when he was with Ed.

“In tune with each other to the point it was scary?”

“They did try to kill each other… a lot. And Anne kissed me, which was… a lot to deal with, especially when Ed was mad at me and freshly banished. How’d you guess?”

“That’s how they are. Practically glued at the hip and eccentric, in your words. They got bored a couple decades ago and they do weird shit to keep things fresh. Never understood it myself, but Ed liked them fine. He liked Jack more, though. He dated Jack, although Anne and Mary had each other most of the time we knew them, barring their breakups.”

Stede’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “No wonder you thought Ed would kill me when you met me.”

“I was an idiot, still am an idiot. And of the men I’ve seen him date, you’re the best. So… I guess it’s the same feeling that you have about me.”

“That’s surprisingly sweet of you to say.”

“Don’t get that used to it. Where’s Edward? Surprised he’s let you out of his sight for this long.”

“Fishing for dinner, if he manages it, it’ll be a change of pace.”

“He caught anything after the first one?”

“Sometimes. It’s partially a time for him to be alone, I think. He cleans whatever he catches, and I cook it.  technically repaying me for cooking it, but honestly, I can’t handle the thought of butchery of any sort, fish or otherwise.”

“Figures.”

Stede smiled tightly. “Killed technically two men and eat meat regularly, and yet I can’t stomach butchery. Its an odd thing, I know.”

“Not that weird. Killing’s a mindfuck. And you’re not used to the life, better that you’re not, seeing how you took sudden infamy.”

Stede slumped slightly. “I liked being liked. It was the first time in my life no one made fun of me for anything I was doing outside of when I met Ed. I regret how I acted around him and you, but I won’t say I didn’t like it.”

Izzy shrugged. “I get it. You think I didn’t act like an asshole the first time someone recognized me as Blackbeard’s First Mate? Fucking of course not, I was absolutely intolerable. You saw how Ed was around Jack too, imagine that for about a decade straight, dating him off and on, but intolerable the whole time. He and I get it. He probably remembers a lot less of it than me.”

Stede blinked. “Drinking that much?”

“Yeah, he gets the rules of that shit now, probably warned you not to try to pickle your liver with alcohol, it was Jack who pushed him to drink more, to forget about his dad, although he never told Jack about him. I was wrong to try and push him into the picture again, fucking stupid, too. I was furious with you and him for being together, as together as you were at that point. Was probably the beginning of the end of him trusting me much.”

“That’s direct, coming from you.”

“I still don’t get why you think you can fix that kind of problem between him and me. I fucked you up too, and you’re acting like it was nothing. I don’t understand how either of your brains work. You made me tea, you fucking lunatic. You’re keeping me safer than I’ve been in years, because I’ll eventually talk to Edward and figure out if I’m leaving you two alone.”

“You don’t have to leave, because your very welcome at the yet unnamed inn more like house with spare bedrooms that two retired pirates are living in together.”

“Too long for a name,” Izzy critiqued. “Can’t fit that on a sign.”

“That’s why it’s not an inn yet.” Stede grinned.

Izzy laughed, then had a thought that made his chest ache. “You kinda remind me of how he used to be, probably 20 years ago.”

“I do?” Stede grimaced, looking insulted.

“In a good way. Nice guy who can’t hack being mean quite right, getting close, but not really there with being an asshole. Trying really hard to act like he knows what he’s doing, weird plans and awful jokes. That’s the definition of Eddie.” He smiled sadly and the expression was gone as soon as it came.

“You used to call him Eddie?”

“Me ‘n jack both did. Lost the habit when he was my boss and he dumped Jack. Until he tried to get me to kill him.”

“Oh.”

“Not a happy memory. Forget I brought it up.”

“it’s still sweet of you to say you remind me of him.”

“Just said to forget about it. I don’t want you to get hurt like I did. I almost couldn’t take it, and I know you can’t.”

“No offense taken,” Stede replied flatly.

“I didn’t mean it that way, don’t be a dick. We’ve been so civil this far, Bonnet.”

“You can call me my first name, that’d be civil.”

“I know I can. It’s too familiar.”

“Fair enough. I forgot to ask, what’s your plan for the day?”

“You think I’ve got one? I’m gonna sit here and think. That’s my plan.”

“Ed’s the only one of us who’s being productive today, then. My plan is to sit and read in the bedroom. Not exactly more fun than fishing or… thinking.”

“You love him a lot.”

“I mean, yeah. Why do you say that?”

“You had this stupid look on your face when you said that. It’s nice. I’m happy that you care about him so much.”

“You’re still allowed to be around him, it’s not like I’ll kick you out.”

“Sure. You know you can get back to your doing nothing whenever you want.”

“I know. I was sort of enjoying your company,” Stede admitted.

“Can’t imagine you enjoying my company.”

“Well, get used to it, because I am really okay with having you stay with us for as long as you want to stay.”

“That’s a great thing to hear from you, but Edward—” Izzy started.

“Would also agree wholeheartedly to having you stay,” Stede interrupted.

“Fine, I’ll trust you. Doesn’t mean I’m ready yet. I know I’m going to fuck it up with him, I always have.”

“You haven’t always had me around. I can help you when you’re ready.”

“Right.”

“That reminds me, tomorrow for lunch he and I are going out, so you can get food on your own, take whatever you like, it’s a grocery trip to restock some staples.”

“Great.” He swallowed the bite of food he’d taken. “Happy for you for your date tomorrow, so glad you told me about the details of your daily plan, so fucking helpful to me,” he added flatly.

Stede graciously ignored him. “You can sit inside today, if you like, I’ll just be reading in the bedroom, so—”

“No. I’ll stay out here. I need to think, and if I’m in there, I won’t get a thing sorted out.”

“That’s fair. Well, see you in a bit, then.”

Thinking went over like shit. It didn’t help at all. Izzy kept jumping at shadows and feeling pathetic.

Then after a few hours, his body betrayed him, heavy as breakfast was, he was hungry again. He could go in and steal food, but it didn’t feel right, even with permission.

The idea he’d fuck up rations stuck in his head. He came to the conclusion something in the salty sea air dug into men’s bones and broke them down on a base level, fucking with their heads in ways that became clearer on land, or after a sudden return to a miserable life.

Rationing isn’t a problem on land, but I have a problem with eating my fill on land.

His stewing was again broken by Stede, cheerily walking up next to him, and scaring the shit out of him again.

“What now?”

“Well, I didn’t hear you come in to take food for lunch, and it’s getting awfully late to go without food for this long. So, here, for you. You’re going to have to fix this bad habit of yours tomorrow, I won’t have your starving corpse left out here because I wasn’t around to remind you to eat for a few hours.”

“Takes longer than that to starve a man.” Usually takes a week, lot shorter without water, even shorter in bad heat. But the weather wasn’t that hot, he could get his own water, and wasn’t a prisoner. The point was meaningless, and Izzy’s brain was rotted to its core.

“Still. Eat, you’ll feel less miserable with food in you.”

“Sure. It’s not just hunger making me miserable though.”

“Thinking didn’t go so well?” Stede asked, looking, to his credit, genuinely concerned for him.

“No. Made me come up with a question for you though. Did all the shit he did ever scare you?”

“I mean, a little. He lived a very dangerous life before I met him, and then while I met him, we both did stupid dangerous things together. You did too, it makes me a little nervous to think about what he did sometimes, because I know it hurt people like you, people he cared for. But I also know he won’t ever do it again. I know he won’t try it again, much less ever think of hurting me. It makes me nervous, but I know he’s changed, or is in the process of changing. I’m helping him out with that, helping us both readjust in a way. He knows he fucked up, with the entire crew more or less, particularly you and Lucius, although it seems he’s forgiven him, in his own way, I suppose. Really, I think they’re coping by knowing they can control when they see him again, maybe putting that off because they’d rather not see him again quite yet. Maybe it’s the same with you.”

Pointed. “Maybe. Except I can hear his voice through the walls.”

“True. A bit less distance in your case. I understand where the fear comes from with you, it’s why I offered to keep your secret.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re talking to me.”

“Does it not? I like to think I’m helping you figure out your problems. If nothing else, I’m at least mediocre company.”

“You talk back. Seagull doesn’t.”

“Is that a benefit or a drawback?” Stede furrowed his brow.

“Both, depending on how you’re acting. He’s a pain in the ass, sort of like you, but I prefer your company. You answer my questions directly.”

“So… he can understand human speech still?”

Izzy grimaced at the thought. “God, I hope he can. He was a human, though, at this point I’ve asked him enough questions that it can’t be random chance. Never seen a seagull nod or shake its head in response to a question before. Seen a lot of seagulls in my life, and if it’s not Buttons, I’ll be shocked.”

“Right. Hm. He did hang around your grave an awful lot at the beginning. Maybe he was trying to bring you back that whole time.”

“I still don’t get why I got my second chance.”

“You get to mend things with Ed, and vice versa. I think you’ve both got regrets about your lives around each other, and you get to talk about it now. When you’re ready, that is.”

“Right. When I’m ready. What’ll you do if I’m not?”

“I’ll be patient. I might resort to underhanded methods of getting you to talk to him and see him again, but I don’t think it’ll come to that for a while yet.”

“Good to know someone here’s got hope in me.”

“You don’t think you will?”

“I think I’m a coward these days. Can’t kill myself and make it stick, can’t see my old boss, and look him in the eye as he says he fucked up. Took the blame when I died, and it’s more of an everyone fucked up situation, according to you. I’m not like you think I am anymore, and that’s the problem.”

“Because it was a mixed fuckup. You sold us out, or me, at the time when you tried the stunt, and he took the punishment with me, avoiding execution by seconds, then he and I both fucked up the escape, he couldn’t cope healthily with the misunderstanding when I ran away. I didn’t get to explain it until multiple months passed and the crew mutinied after he terrorized you all. Honestly, at this point, between you and I, it’s no hard feelings. I understand where you were coming from, and I know how your brain is wired—at least most of the way, I like to think—so I get why you felt like you did. And now that’s changed, so… no bad blood.”

“That’s too easy.”

“You deserve simple things.” He looked Izzy over with some scrutiny. “Would you hate it if I let you borrow something that wasn’t quite so bloodstained?”

“Depends. From your wardrobe?”

“My clothes would probably fit you a bit better. I swear on my honor, I won’t try to make you wear anything fun or exciting. Strictly the most boring, plain, nondescript black clothing I can find for you.”

“I’ll let you help. I took too long to wash the blood out, and there’s no point in mending the bullet hole if it’s stained to hell.”

“I’ll be back, then. You can tell me it’s horrible, and I’ll steal something of Ed’s.”
 
Stede came to the back of the inn with black fabric draped over his arm. “Here. Scared this up from my wardrobe. Plain, simple, and boring, should fit alright, pants may be a bit long on you, but you know that, I’m sure. And here, in case the waist doesn’t fit right.” He handed him a shirt, pants, and a belt, all black and strikingly plain compared to what he wore typically, even the loose things he had on lately looked... nice, suited him. All black didn’t suit someone like Stede, so why he had that in his closet, Izzy didn’t know. “The pants you’re in now just look uncomfortable, you don’t have to wear those, but you’d be less uncomfortable if you would, I hope.”

Izzy didn’t ask where he’d found the clothes, he just took them, and said, “thanks.”

Stede smiled. “Always happy to help. Especially when your old clothes have a bloodstain in them, and a bullet hole. Probably isn’t helping the situation with how you feel, is it?”

“No,” Izzy answered, the truth of his words curdling in his guts as he said it. “Wasn’t, still isn’t. I mended these for years, kept them in good condition, and then I take too long to be brought back and I can’t wash the blood out. Feels like I’m doing them a disservice, getting rid of them, but I can’t do much about it.”

“Ed felt the same about his leathers.”

“He stopped wearing them again?”

“Mhm. He admitted to me a while into our stay out here that he didn’t want to keep wearing them. I helped with that situation.”

“Good. He needs you around, he gets stuck in his head if he doesn’t.”

“Well. You can change and I’ll bring you dinner when Ed’s back.”

“Fine with me.”

He took the clothes and changed when he was alone, ignoring stiffness in his joints, adjusting what he needed to, tightening the belt so the pants fit his waist, rolling up the bottom hem slightly. It was annoying getting the pants on around the fucking leg, but it always was. Something he’d have to get used to. Something to add to the fucking list of shit to get used to. At least it fit and it was black and didn’t have a hole in it. He touched the wound on his stomach, healing up to be a scar. He was healing up better than he figured, since it was a bullet wound and had been deadly.

Maybe the bird’s got healing magic too. Wouldn’t have killed him to be a quicker study on it.

Then, after he settled back in for a while, to keep thinking about the bleakness of his life as the day passed him by, he heard footsteps again.

“You can say you’re coming up behind me you know,” he said, turning his head before Stede even said a word.

“I forget you have the usual survival instincts, sorry. You can just about assume it’s me if you hear someone walking up, Ed doesn’t know, I haven’t said a word.” Stede stopped in front of him, looking him over. “I’m glad they fit. I was a bit worried they wouldn’t work, but it seems like you’re more comfortable.”

“No lecture?”

“It’s never a lecture. It’s a conversation. Maybe a bit one-sided as far as conversation goes, but… I’m always thrilled to fill a silence. At least, that’s what I’ve heard about myself.” He smiled tightly and laughed weakly. “Secondhand information is always true, as I’m sure someone says.”

“You also missed your boyfriend because he was out for a few hours and you can’t stand to be alone out here,” Izzy supplied. “It gets too quiet, without the waves and other people around, right?”

“I mean, a bit. I read to pass the time, but I guess you can’t do that, no access to books outside.”

“Nope. Stuck in the inside of my skull, like it’s fucking purgatory, day in, day out. No one to fight with but a seagull, or you, but you bring me food, so I can’t say I’ll kill you. Also, you’d never trust me to kill you. I tried and I fucked it up.”

Stede scoffed. “You didn’t fuck it up. I won the duel.”

“We’re not doing this again, Bonnet.”

“Aw, but last time went perfectly in my favor! I got what I wanted; I learned some tricks to being a real pirate. What do you want from me?”

“Dinner, and some peace and quiet.”

“Well, I can give you both. Ed did catch something, enough to share with you, even. So here.” He handed him his plate, dinner looked like it was fish, vegetables, and rice. Again, better food than the shit they had on the Queen Anne’s, or anywhere else.

“One question before you leave. Why aren’t you trying to starve me out of hiding?”

“Because I know you’re too stubborn to avoid Ed all that long. Also, if I tried to, you’d probably sneak inside and take whatever you wanted when you got desperate rather than go inside and tell Ed you’re alive and mostly well.”

“Right.” The idea of that, sneaking in to glut himself after starving, was interesting.

Not that he’d try it, since he was getting fed more than plenty just with what Stede snuck out to him after they had dinner.

Like a dog getting fed table scraps, his brain added.

“Thanks, for putting in the effort for my sake, even if it’s nothing much.”

“You know it’s not, have a nice night.”

“Night, Bonnet.”

How he managed to muster so much leftover food was a mystery he didn’t want the answer to. The fish was good, something he hadn’t had that wasn’t preserved to hell and eaten out of desperation, like usual. Fresh food was always something nice, what you got almost to celebrate surviving long enough to get to a port or through a raid. Had to eat it, else it would spoil.

Maybe that’s why he relished the full feeling in his belly every time he had dinner.

Or he was losing his edge by the passing day.

Coming back broke something, or Ed’s breakdown broke something, which it did. Fucked up his leg and his boss’ logical brain.

***

The next morning came and Stede woke up alone. He sat up and saw Ed, dressed but seeming unsettled. Stede got out of bed and silently watched his boyfriend, who hadn’t noticed he was watching.

Ed frowned and tugged at the bottom hem of his shirt. It’d been longer but it wasn’t quite meeting his pants where he hoped it would.

“Hi. Something up?” Stede asked, wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“Fuckin’ clothes again,” he muttered, dropping his arms to his sides.

“I think it’s alright.”

“Is it?” Ed asked, unconvinced.

“It is. Have I ever told you just how nice you look when you wear purple?”

“A time or two,” he admitted.

“And I appreciate just how short this shirt is on you. I know you haven’t heard that from me nearly often enough, because it looks great on you.” He pressed a kiss to Ed’s neck, which he learned into.

“The locals might not.”

“If they have anything mean to say, they can contend with your very loyal and protective boyfriend who adores how this shirt fits you.”

“Yeah? Not used to getting protected like that. last time was…” Ed trailed off. “A while ago. It’ll be a good day.”

“It will be. Let me get dressed and get us some food and we can head out.”

“It’s a plan.”

“Lunch first, then getting the things we need?”

“sure. Can’t have me wasting away.”

“Of course not. I also think we can get what we need from the bakery last, and we can get some pastries there too.”

“Good date idea.”

“Where was this tone yesterday?”

“You deserved it. You were fucking with me too.”

Their date

“You can just get more than you were planning to get.”

“Right.”

“Or don’t, it’s a suggestion you don’t have to follow.”

“I’m lucky you like me so much.”

“I know I am.”

Stede watched him, utterly caught up in him. If anyone else watched him, neither of them noticed.

“You’re doing really well handling your appetite.”

“Thanks. This is different than you feeding me in our room.”

“Which makes it fun, I hope?”

“Mhm. Helps that I was hungry.”

“Of course it does. So, groceries. Anything in particular you’re craving?”

“Desserts, you’re great at anything you’ve made.”

“The orange cake again? I hate to ruin your taste for it.”

“Can’t ruin my taste for it, I’d eat the whole thing in one go if it wouldn’t make me sick. Chocolate’s good too. You just need to ask easier questions.”

“I tried to, I swear. So just the staples then? The usual perishables we can keep for a while, dry goods, that sort of thing? No special requests outside of the cake?”

“Course not.”

“I can always hope you’ll want to challenge my meager skills.”

“You’ve got more skill than that, mate. I’d burn the shit you’ve made.”

“You can cook, you just choose not to.”

“When my boyfriend is so damn eager, it’s impossible to tell him no. Like overdoing it on lunch. Dunno if I’ll be up for much for dinner.”

Stede grinned, eyes glittering, taking his hand and squeezing it gently. “We’ll see on that one, won’t we?”

“You think I’m full of shit.”

“I think you say that a lot and every time when I let your stomach settle, and ask if you want dessert, you say yes.”

“That’s a different thing. Got a dessert stomach, it’s separate.”

“I’m sure it is, love.”

Ed looked away, realizing they’d been eating in peace for a while. “It’s nice being unknown, huh?”

“No one to bug us during a date.”

“Should be more eerie, I guess. How quiet it is, the fact no one’s said anything about pirates, or Blackbeard, but it’s honestly kinda nice. It’s what I wanted when I met you, to give up piracy one way or another. I like it being like this, feels like it’s supposed to be this way. Minus the obvious, I guess.”

“Right.” He wilted slightly, guiltily.

“Don’t worry about it, I brought him up, my fault. Still shitty he can’t enjoy at least some of this. He’d hate it, but still.” He sighed, digging back into his lunch.

“I know, sweetheart.

Quiet fell between them and Ed finished his food. Stede was still picking at his meal.

“You can have the rest if you want. I overdid it at breakfast I think, not very hungry today.” Stede pushed his plate to Ed.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Can’t let you waste away, can we?”

Ed laughed. “Clearly not. You feel okay, though? I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

“No, you’re fine, I feel fine, I really just had too much at breakfast.”

“Alright,” he replied, unconvinced but not pushing the issue.

After lunch, they got their groceries, and headed to the bakery for the last odds and ends they needed, and settled outside again, with all their errands done. Ed got to enjoy a bit of what they’d gotten from the bakery, with the rest being saved for their desserts later.

“Good date?” Stede asked, just to be sure it was a good date for the two of them.

“Great date,” Ed corrected. “I get to eat as much as I want, and I don’t have to think about getting back anywhere on time. And I get to be with you. All the ingredients of a fantastic date with my boyfriend. Even if I had to weasel the fact it was a date out of you directly.”

“I think if we go anywhere alone, it’s a date. It’d be obnoxious if I asked you out so often.”

“Would it be? It’d be a shame for the co-owners of the name-to-be-determined-inn by the sea-slash-house-the-two-men-live-in-together weren’t known to be together romantically because one co-owner is being stubborn and won’t say he’s in a very committed relationship with his fellow innkeeper.”

“I’d say it. Saying ‘this is my incredibly attractive boyfriend who is very token and I’m very in love with’ is easy. Around you or our future customers. I just hate to ask you out so often because that would ruin the romance of these dates. Technically this was getting groceries. And lunch.”

“And dessert,” Ed added.

“Of course, can’t forget that. you think you’ll ever lose that taste for sugar?”

Ed laughed. “Fuck no. I ever tell you about the time Iz mixed up our tea? Haven’t, have I?”

He paused, and Stede shook his head, despite hearing the story before from Izzy the day before.

“Great. It’s a really good one. He about choked on it when he handed me the wrong cup. Used to be something we did, tea together and just… talking, before everything went to hell with us. He made it like you do for me, my usual. He complained as I went up with the sugar after a while, once we could have it, much as we wanted of the stuff. But one time he didn’t look at the cups, so he took a swig of mine and coughed it down, snatched what was his cup from me and pushed mine back into my hands. Said something like I’m never doing that again. It was funny, he complained about it again then, called it my sludge from then on. He was a total purist, I always joked it was ‘cause he hated himself, but really he just liked the taste of the actual drink. He probably couldn’t imagine I still had a sweet tooth after he tried my tea.” Ed grinned, clearly reminiscing.

Stede smiled. “That sounds like him alright. He was stuck in his ways about almost everything.” He paused, after carefully considering the tense of Izzy Hands’ existence. “He was sweet with you, huh?”

“Yeah. Until I got bored of the life. He couldn’t imagine it, fuckin’ infamous pirate, could do whatever I wanted, except leave. The idea fucked him up until you came back, and they tried to kill me.”

“I get it. Grow up how I did, and you know why I wanted to leave. Some things you’re just not good at. If you are, sometimes it’s not where your passions are.”

Ed’s smile dissolved guiltily. “Yeah. I do this to you a lot, don’t I?”

“You’re allowed to talk about him. I would too, I just don’t have any stories you haven’t heard.”

“He was good with you too, when he realized you weren’t the bad influence, and the real bad influence was up here.” He tapped his head, for emphasis. “Can’t fix that kind of problem very easy.”

“With a bit of luck, time and love, I think you can.”

“That’s so fucking sappy.”

“And you love when I’m like that. So really, you’re not going to get tired of the orange cake?”

“Fuck no! It’s great, it’s got all my favorite things in it.”

“Tell me that in six months, and I’ll believe you.”

“I bet I could eat a whole one by then without getting sick off it.”

“Oh?”

“We can try it if you’re up for it too. Something to look forward to.”

“Sure. I don’t suppose he made you do things like that or let you.”

“Nah, waste of resources.”

“Well, here it can be just for fun.”

“Yeah. You got the stuff for it still right?”

“Of course. You praised it so heavily, I made a habit of keeping the ingredients around. I try to make your favorites more often.”

“You’re too damn good to me.”

“You deserve to be spoiled. Especially when it makes you soft like that. Have I mentioned you’ve done really well eating today?”

“A little. Don’t know how I’m gonna do with dinner, but I think I’ll manage to impress you again.”

Stede touched his belly subtly, disguising it as more of a thigh pat. “I bet you will. You always impress me with as much as you can eat.”

“Can we sit here a while before we head home?”

“Absolutely.”

They had dinner together after enjoying the change in scenery. Stede hoped Izzy had an alright day, but he’d gone quieter than usual, and he wanted to spend more time giving his boyfriend all the attention he deserved after their day together.

Honestly, Izzy had probably starved and stewed on his emotions all day, so he gave him a bit extra of everything he could, including a small treat, in case the whole ‘I hate sugar’ bit was an act, and he’d appreciate it in small doses.

***

Bonnet had a horribly guilty conscience, apparently. When he’d growled about wanting to be left alone and for Stede to go back to his boyfriend, he went along, gave him his food and bid him a good night.

It hadn’t been a good day, so he was owed some peace somewhere.

And apparently a lot of food. It was a late dinner, probably because of their date, he didn’t bother to go and check or ask.

It bordered on being too much food, but he crammed the food in his mouth and forced himself to swallow it. It was nearly a punishment, not eating like he should’ve all day. He nearly choked on his own eagerness to get food in him, and it was just as difficult to swallow the last bites of the apparent dessert. He’d gotten a pastry, for some reason, despite enthusing about how deeply he hated the idea of dessert or sweets for at least half an hour between the various conversations they’d had.

It was good, which made it easier to coax himself into eating, despite the weight of his dinner in his body.

If he kept going like he was, he’d have to loosen that damn belt, wouldn’t he?

That shouldn’t have sent a slight thrill through his body, feeling the clothing cut in, against the slight bloating from the food.

It shouldn’t have happened, so he shoved the feeling back. When he finished the food he undid the belt and the pants, tugging the shirt untucked. Then, he laid back, sated sleepiness clouding his self-loathing. He had time for that in the morning, apparently. He was exhausted by fullness, almost intoxicated by the feeling.

It was almost nostalgic, getting to really eat again after stretching supplies for half a week too long, stomach complaining before and after the restock of supplies.

But that was then, and this was now, and he shouldn’t dwell on the past.

Instead, he willed himself to sleep without thinking about anything or anyone.

***

Two weeks had passed.  The guilt felt like it had glued itself firmly to the inside of Stede’s ribcage. Even seeing Ed made him feel bad, like he’d done something awful to his boyfriend. Technically, he had, lying by omission, and letting Izzy stew in his feelings for longer than was advisable.

He just didn’t want to upset either of them. Izzy because he was volatile in the best of times, and Ed because he loved him.

So, he had a plan. A stupid plan, maybe, but stupid worked sometimes. Maybe this would help them both work things out.

First, he had to lie to Ed again, technically.  

“Love, do you want to take a short walk before dinner? I can’t go with you, but you’ve seemed tense today, might help you gather your thoughts.”

“Sure. The fresh air might help. Haven’t gone out in a little bit.”

“See you in a bit, then.”

Ed walked out of the inn and wandered to Izzy’s grave marker.

“I always end up here, don’t I, Iz?”

***

Izzy’s head snapped up in a panic when he heard the footsteps. Then the fear grew when he heard his own name.

He heard familiar footsteps walking past him. The footsteps made his heart jump into his throat. He glanced up, to look at him, as if he’d get the guts to talk to him, as if he wanted to.

He looked different.

Not in the Blackbeard’s back and more miserable than ever way, or the Ed’s in love with someone right for him way.

A different way. This way didn’t make his chest seize with rage, guilt, or disappointment. He was happy. It felt strange, being happy seeing Ed, rather than nervous or a sickening type of excited, or irritated.

He was standing still, hands shoved in his pockets, staring at the fucking grave marker. Izzy kept watching him, hidden enough to not be noticed, and dead quiet.

Really, Ed looked good. Filled out more than he used to be, the slight amount of pudge he kept, even despite all the raiding when he forced everyone into his misery, had turned into a bit more than that, weight obviously settling over his thighs as well, and his belly pressed pressing over his pants, pants that were not the same as he wore before. He was wearing a loose shirt, a hell of a lot like ones Bonnet wore lately. The pants were probably borrowed as well, looking at them.

No wonder he was willing to let me steal something of his, and no wonder it was black.

He couldn’t look him over longer, though, as he turned around and walked closer to the grave marker, eventually sitting in front of it. Right within earshot of where Izzy was sitting.

“I always end up here, thinking about how you got shot. Hope there’s an afterlife, honestly, you deserve something good after the life you lived, putting up with me for so damn long, then when I became the same fucking monster my dad was, you stayed. My mom stayed too, ‘cause she had to. She probably thought the same thing you did, that it’s your fault for the abusive shit. It’s not, in case you’re confused still, as a fucking corpse in the ground.”

I have the worst luck of anyone alive, he silently fumed.

“Since that’s out of the way, things’re going okay with Stede, okay’s an understatement really. It’s going really well, I think. We’re running an inn, ‘cause… fuck, I mean, I scared half the crew, and he decided he hated piracy. Not much else we could do, two criminals, not exactly the best kind of people you’d hire to do anything but more crime. You know, he said we’d get decades together. All I could think, besides how fucked it felt to consider decades, was that you deserved that too. Decades with someone you love, like, real love, not whatever shit I did to you that made you love the idea of me, or whatever you were on about when I was fucked up over him leaving me. You don’t deserve to rot anywhere. You deserve the kind of life I’ve got, not me. Stede always looks upset when I say it like that, like I’m expecting to die again. Lemme put it in a different way, for my own damn brain. I want you to have the same life I’ve got and with the way I lived, a decade of bad choices and living from impulse to impulse, I shouldn’t be here, surviving and getting old, finding new gray in my hair, seeing my beard grow back in twice as light as it used to be, and shit like that. You deserve that too, to get to live life in the long term, not expect to die within a few years.”

One problem with that, Edward. Besides the dying thing.

“You’d hate that though, wouldn’t you? You hated sitting still, even when we were young, you’d hound me for the next idea, the next raid, where we were going. You like living day to day, or you used to, at least.” Ed took a shaky breath.

Exactly. At least someone out here gets why I don’t think I can stay. Besides you hating me and me ruining your life for a few years there.

“God, I miss you. I never treated you the way I should’ve. Leaving you here was the last thing we could do for you. Stede’s idea, if it pisses you off, by the way. He told me when we see you again—” Ed’s voice broke off, and he sniffled. “When we see you again, and you’re furious with us both for taking so damn long, I could blame him for you being mad about being buried on land and for keeping me alive. I told him you’d hate it, but he convinced me to put you here. I think you’d be happy about how he’s been with me, though, he’s doing a good job keeping me alive so far.”

Least someone can make sure you’re doing alright. I was never that good at it.

Ed stared silently at the grave marker and Izzy assumed in vain he’d get peace and quiet.

“Someone took your tie off the marker, huh? Assholes. Knew it wouldn’t stay but… it’s not been that long since we buried you. Could’ve left it alone, no one ever comes out here even. Fuckin’ unfair, all of it.”

Izzy laughed a little, biting the inside of his cheek and stifling the noise.

“But I know what you’d say about me saying that,” Ed said, halfway grinning.

“Life is what’s really unfair,” Izzy replied, just under the rustle of leaves, as Ed said the same.

“The kinda funny part, about you getting stuck buried out here, dignified as we tried to make it for you, is that you’d hate it here. It’s quiet, nothing really changes except what me and Stede are working on. Eventually it’ll get cold out, that's a change, and we’ll have to fix up the walls before that, but honestly, it mostly just feels like we’ve got time. Time to do shit, have breaks, just… live. Like a long vacation. You’d absolutely hate it. Stede and I still miss you, I reckon the crew does too, they haven’t come back yet, said they would but… been a while and with what happened, I wouldn’t expect them to come back. Might blame us for you dying, which would be fair. I hope you’re happy, whatever the fuck happens when you die, hope it’s not the gravy basket forever, that’d be… awful. God, Iz, I miss you.”

“I’m not worth missing, you fuck,” Izzy spat, too loudly. Shit. It’s on you if you find me, Boss.

Ed laughed bitterly. “Hearing things. Either way, you’re worth it. I’d still want you alive even if you weren’t worth missing, I knew you for years. Probably boring your ghost, now, aren’t I? Sorry, Iz. Prob'ly a mistake to come sit out here and talk, but… I needed to. Stede was right, it does kinda feel better to talk to you. Especially when you can't answer back, and I can be as sappy and stupid as I wanna be. The quiet's still eerie, though, I miss your voice, even if you'd just complain at me."

Fucking Bonnet. I’m going to kill him, trying this shit to guilt me, Izzy fumed.

He fumed in the silence until Ed left, then he waited until Bonnet thought it was fitting to show his face around him and ask what happened with his fucking idea to fix Izzy’s problems on his own.

***

Stede heard Ed come back after a while, nearly finishing getting dinner ready.

“Good timing, dinner’s almost—” he stopped, taking in Ed’s expression. His eyes were red and looked wet. “You alright?”

“Yeah. The walk kinda helped, talked through my feelings about what happened with Izzy and what’s been going on, so… feels a little better.”

“I’m glad you feel better, you just looked a bit unsettled.”

“Yeah, feels kinda pathetic, talking at a grave, crying a little about my own feelings. I’m alright now, just thought about some stuff.” He walked behind Stede. “Your idea really did help,” he added, kissing him on the cheek.

“You have to stop distracting me,” Stede reminded him.

“But you love my distractions.”

“Until one of us gets hurt, it’s adorable.” He kissed him back. “But really, go sit, or stand away from the dangerous things that could burn one or both of us.”

Their dinner was quiet, Ed not mentioning he saw or heard Izzy, which meant the plan didn’t work and he would need to apologize.

“You’re not eating. Something up?”

“No, I’m alright, I may go out and clear my head a bit after dinner. A bit lost in thought I think. It’s nothing serious, I’m just not very hungry tonight. I’m glad to see you’re in better spirits now,” he said, and smiled weakly.

Ed shot him a disappointed glance. “You need to take your own problems seriously. You’re in the same boat as me, you ‘n him bonded a little. Maybe your idea’ll work for you too if you feel bad offloading it onto me. I can take a hell of a lot, you know. Not near as fragile as you think.”

“I know. I just hate to ruin your good mood.”

“Can’t ruin it, I like being around you as much as you like being around me.”

“I know. Still, soon as you’re done I’ll handle the dishes and head outside for a bit.”

“I hope it helps.”

Stede kept picking at his dinner, mainly pushing the food around so Ed couldn’t tell he wasn’t eating much. Guilt ruined his appetite something awful.

Another meal, another lie.

Although this one’s not technically a lie, I do need to talk to Izzy about what happened, and I can get some time to gather myself if I do the dishes first. Or I’ll take the time after to myself because I really can’t keep him waiting this long. He’d be the type to do something rash if something unexpected happened.

Ed finished eating and picked up that Stede was done too. “Well, I’m gonna head to our room. Might fall asleep, but I’ll be there, one way or another. And really, talk to me if you need to. I like hearing you talk.”

“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Stede replied. Then, when he was alone, he set his jaw and walked outside, preparing himself to get punched in the face by Izzy.

***

Izzy sat still as an hour passed agonizingly slowly. He almost felt the seconds tick by until he heard quiet footsteps walking up next to him.

He glanced up to see Stede, looking guilty, and holding what he assumed was his dinner.

Good to know he won’t drag me inside after that.

“What do you want now?”

“To apologize,” he answered. “And bring you dinner.”

“For what, fucking with me brutally? Toying with my fucking feelings when I was being vulnerable with you? You’re damn right you should apologize. That was fucked, Bonnet. Absolutely fucked.” Izzy struggled to his feet and met him where he stood. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I thought—” Stede started.

Izzy scoffed. “No, you didn’t. You heard about what he did to me, and still you fucking ambushed me with seeing him again alone.”

“Izzy, I thought you two would talk!”

“How would that have worked out, do you think?” he snapped.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m sorry I didn’t think it through nearly enough to realize it wasn’t a good idea.”

“Someday you’ll realize that life isn’t like your fucking books, and I’ll have some peace and quiet.”

“I just… wanted him to realize you were okay,” Stede admitted quietly, voice breaking.

“And how did that go for you?” Izzy replied snappishly.

“Terribly. Feel better?”

Izzy glared. “No. I had to feel firsthand that my body doesn’t realize he won’t hurt me again if I’m alone with him. Of course I don’t feel better.”

“Just— here. I promise I won’t try that again. And again, I’m sorry.” He handed him his dinner, which he took, but didn’t start eating.

“Good. I’ll be out of your way like this.”

“You’re not in my way, he misses you,” he corrected.

“Fuck you for telling me that.”

Stede sighed, exasperated. “I didn’t do it to make you upset. I thought you’d hear how much your death upset him and it’d make you want to tell him you’re alive, or he’d see you and you’d talk about what happened.”

“And me being back would upset him more.”

“You don’t know that, but I’m not arguing with you anymore, I’m too tired. So here and have a good night.”

“Glad one of us knows when to stop,” Izzy replied, taking the plate, and sitting down to eat.

***

Getting some air went horribly. Stede stood in the kitchen alone for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts and trying to decompress. His hands were shaking. He gripped the counter to steady them, as if it would do much. He knew better than to take Izzy at his word, and honestly, it should have helped them both, letting Izzy hear Ed talk about his feelings without feeling like he was a nuisance. By the way he was gripping the counter, knuckles white, fingers starting to get sore from the tension, he knew his thoughts weren’t gathered, and he was still frustrated as all hell that Izzy wouldn’t talk yet. He felt horrible lying to Ed, and Izzy knew that, so why didn’t he just say he was alright when he listened to him talk about how he felt about Izzy’s death?

The mixture of emotions made hot tears start to burn behind his eyes. He blinked hard, trying to force it down, but it didn’t help.

He washed the dishes and walked to their bedroom quietly, hoping Ed had fallen asleep in the handful of minutes he was outside.

Of course, nothing was going to work out for him that night, so Ed was sitting up, then his eyes focused and softened when he saw Stede.

“What happened?”

“My thoughts wouldn’t gather themselves even if I went out for a bit. I’m alright.”

Ed sighed. “No, you’re not. You haven’t been alright in a while.”

“I—no, you’re right. I don’t know why I tried to lie to you. I’m sorry, I think I’m just in a bit of a state today. It’s not your fault, and I don’t think you can help me with it, don’t worry for my sake though, I’ll be alright.”

“That makes me want to help more, and not less. maybe we both need dessert tonight. You’re probably hungry still. I know I can eat sugar even when I don’t feel like eating a real meal.”

“You have good ideas.”

“I know right?”

“I love you,” Ed said.

“I love you too.”

Stede didn’t expect a sense of panic to well up in his chest when he walked into the kitchen. He steadied his nerves with a breath, knowing Izzy was outside, and if he had the night to cool off, he could talk to him in the morning, make sure there were at least fewer hard feelings after his ill-thought-out plan didn’t go how he expected. That would go better than an argument. It had to because Izzy had to sort things out with Ed.

He honestly didn’t mean for that to have happened. It wasn’t like Izzy cared, and he was worrying his boyfriend by worrying about what he thought was nothing.

But you can’t apologize for things you can’t explain. Maybe he’ll be right, and this’ll help.

“You know I don’t ever mean to hurt you, right?” He knew his voice had taken on a nervous edge, and he saw it in Ed’s eyes, softening as he heard him ask the most unspecific question he possibly could have asked.

“That’s kinda pointed, babe. But yeah, course I know. Usually if I have a stomachache, it’s my own fault. Seriously, something got into you, huh? Come here. I think I know what’ll help you.”

“You do? First of all, here. I can’t exactly feed you tonight, if I’m enjoying it too.” He passed Ed his plate, taking his own and sitting on the bed. His body felt tense still, despite the issue with Izzy being well past over, and they’d had worse fights, particularly the one that ended with him getting gut-stabbed by the man.

Ed moved closer to Stede and moved him closer to his chest. “Feel better yet?”

“Not yet, but this is nice.”

Stede bit into the pastry and enjoyed the taste of it. For the first time in a while, he actually liked the food, and didn’t think about the situation he was in.

Ed noticed he’d gone quiet and laughed.

 Stede felt it from where he was still laying, leaning on his shoulder.

“You enjoy that? Figured you were hungry.”

“Maybe I was, a bit. You were right, it’s easier to handle sweets if you’re not up to eating much. Should already have figured that, you and the marmalade.”

Ed shrugged and made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “Sometimes it’s hard to figure out what you need when you don’t feel good. We should do this more often. Not the part where you get stressed out, but the dessert part. Seems like you feel a little better now.”

“I already let you have dessert almost every night.”

“I mean us both eating it together. It’s fun, and I think you like it.”

“I do like the side effects on you,” Stede said, having finished his dessert set the plate aside safely, and snuggled closer to him, resting his head more fully on his chest, his arm laying protectively over Ed’s belly. “Much softer than you used to be.”

“And whose fault would that be?”

“I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“You might as well get to appreciate your hard work.”

“I don’t feed you all the time,” Stede protested.

“Sometimes is plenty and you cook almost everything we eat. I’m not complaining, I like it too, obviously. Glad I make a good spot for you to rest your head.”

Eventually, Ed took to running his fingers through Stede’s hair until they both fell asleep.

The next morning, Stede woke up feeling mildly better, but alone, and smelling breakfast getting cooked. He stayed in bed, assuming it was Ed, and his boyfriend appeared carrying a tray with two cups and two plates.

Stede smiled. “Hi. What happened that made me deserve this?”

“You’ve been having a shitty time. I won’t press you for why, since you won’t say no matter what I do. So, I’m doing the one thing I can do. Mediocre breakfast in bed.”

“You do a great breakfast.”

“You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“And because I got woken up by you cooking. It’s a nice treat.”

Although there may not be leftovers for Izzy. I’ll worry about that later. Shouldn’t worry about him anyway. I just need to apologize, and things should mend.

Stede offered to handle cleanup, since Ed cooked, and got breakfast settled for Izzy.

“Hi, Izzy,” he greeted, not to scare him. “Just me, I promise.”

Izzy glanced up at him. He looked tired, probably didn’t get much sleep. “Good to know I’m not getting punished for being a dick to you.”

“You were being a dick, but even dicks get food. I was also being a bit of a dick. I may be running out of lies to tell Ed about why I’m taking food outside, but I still want to help you.”

“You’re such a fucking lunatic.”

“And what does that make you?”

“The idiot who can’t leave.”

“Well, please eat, I have to head back in, and again, I’m sorry for fucking with your boundaries like I did.”

“You should be, that was awful. He talked about me like I was missable.”

“You are. That was why I wanted him to talk to you, so he could tell you directly just how much he missed you, still misses you.”

“Whatever. Go back inside.”

“See you after a while.”

Izzy sighed heavily and dug into his food once he was alone.

Bonnet had to stop giving him that much. It was always heavy, substantial meals, more than he’d eat usually. It always made him feel sleepy, no matter how much he ate. He knew he had to finish what he was given, even if he wasn’t ordered to, because the neurotic fuck would worry that he wasn’t eating enough if he didn’t.

He was getting used to the portions, to be fair, his stomach adjusting to eating again, but it still felt like too much, especially when he ended up with a stomachache after shoving the last bites of food into his mouth. It felt like too much by that point, stomach protesting digestion painfully, but he didn’t think about his problems if he did that.

Maybe that’s why Ed had filled out. Definitely why he’s not in his old clothes, although he didn’t want to wear them before.

It didn’t matter. Izzy shoved a bite of bread into his mouth, shutting his brain up about the issue. He didn’t need to worry about their lives, just his own, figuring out when he’d be willing to talk to Ed, face to face, and what he’d do afterward, assuming it wasn’t a happy reunion.

***

Time passed uneventfully for Ed and Stede, up until Ed had trouble sleeping and gave up on the idea, walked outside until saw a confusing sight coming up from the horizon, and stopped dead in his tracks.

A ship, too big to be anything usual for something sending goods into town, was heading towards the coast. Right up to where the inn was.

He couldn’t see what it was, pirate, or Navy, or God knows what, but he was worried.

For once, he didn’t have a plan. He spent years having a fucking plan every fucking day, and now, only after a few fucking months, he didn’t have a fucking idea what to do.

 If he was here… he’s not. So, it doesn’t matter what he’d do.

So, he went to his new usual first line of defense, hurrying inside and letting the door slam shut behind him.

“Stede, wake up.”

“What is it?”

“Something’s outside.”

“What?”

“A ship, coming up on us. Too big to be a fucking merchant ship, could be—”

Stede grimaced. “English. Right. Shit. What should we do?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have any fucking weapons or a plan, so I got you, and now I’m stuck trying to figure it out.”

“Do you know it’s English?”

“No. That’s the problem, I have no idea what the damn thing is, I… panicked and got you so you’d help me think.

“Well. Worst case, we just hide out in town for a few days and lay low.” And do what with Izzy though… They’d be worse on him than us.

“Yeah. Good plan. Better plan than mine.”

“Hell, wait. Who was there that survived that massacre that would tell anyone we were here?”

Ed winced. “No one. Fuck, this is why I got you.”

“Let me get dressed, and we can watch for the ship coming and see what we need to do.”

Ed breathed out a sigh. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Good. It shouldn’t be anything too severe.”

“Right.”

“You can’t help it, you know. You spent years trying to live around and against the various militaries. Makes sense you’d be scared if someone suddenly showed up.”

“And we never get peace for that long.”

And if my plan worked like I wanted it to, you’d be dealing with a different type of trouble if it’s the English again. “No, we don’t. Although I believe that is mainly my fault. Yours as well but… I was sort of the catalyst there.”

“Yeah. Sometimes, although me ‘n Iz did a lot of troublemaking before we met you.”

“I know you did. Blackbeard can’t get to be that notable without raising some hell. Ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Stede grabbed Ed’s hand and squeezed it tight as they walked out to the front porch.

***

Izzy panicked around the same point that Ed had, waking up at his usual time, early as all hell, he’d wandered around to the side of the inn and saw the ship too.

Fuck.

May not be bad news but… the English don’t know I’m not dead, they’d be twice as disappointed as anyone that I made it out alive. I’m just bringing them more problems staying here. Clearly.

He scrambled out of sight when he heard the door open and sat hidden by the bushes as Ed and Stede watched the water.

Then, after several incredibly slow minutes, he heard them laugh.

He peered out and squinted at the ship.

It was familiar. Achingly familiar.

God damn it.

They hadn’t thought to send word that they were coming back.

They didn’t have a way to tell them, sure, and Izzy wasn’t exactly in the right to tell them a damn thing about surprising anyone, but it was the fucking principle.

He heard the door open and close, followed by conversation about breakfast, and unexpected guests.

More unexpected guests than you know of, aren’t there, Edward?

Chapter Text

As if seeing the crew of the Revenge (save for her old co-captains and first mate) again, after they docked at the still-unnamed-and-very-unfinished-inn, wasn’t bad enough for torture, the crew was staying for dinner before they restocked and headed back off to God only knows where.

Dinner. A long, drawn out, torturous dinner, where Izzy had all the fucking time in the world to think, overhear conversations and hate himself for his awful choices.

Of course, Izzy didn’t get to eat yet, since Stede was probably too busy keeping the crew from ripping Ed’s throat out to go outside with any food.

That was maybe uncalled for, though. The conversation was calm, stiff as anything, but no one was yelling, voices got tense, but it seemed alright.

Maybe Ed could change. Maybe Bonnet broke his brain back into order, like pushing a dislocated joint back into its socket. Probably not half as painful as that, but as things went, it seemed fitting enough regardless. Izzy broke him, Stede fixed him, and because Izzy couldn’t imagine another life for himself, one where he wasn’t around Edward, he was sleeping on the ground and playing dead.

Izzy’s stomach growled, breaking the semblance of peace and quiet he had. It was obnoxious, knowing he was hungry, and that his dinner wasn’t under his control, as if his body succumbed to ritual and routine like it was supposed to be how he lived. Years ago, it wouldn’t have been like that, he rarely got hungry at specific times, until his hands were unsteady, and his stomach clenched in pain after his hours of ignoring the earlier signs he should have eaten.

He used to be better with torture. Much better, not even that long ago, just months ago, during a time that made his chest tight to think about. Even if it hurt to think about that time, he still used to be better than he was, could take anything and still end up standing, viciously baring his teeth, living up to the attack dog name he’d won. Suddenly, he was used to semi-regular meals, and conversations. He could do what he used to do when everything was too much, since leaning into it like he did with real torture wasn’t working. Hunger didn’t burn nearly as satisfyingly as any other type of pain.

He could still ignore it, focus on other things. It used to be what needed to be done before they stopped at a port, or before a raid, or if it was especially tense, before it got too damn dark to do anything but sleep.

Izzy leaned his head against the inn and listened.

The conversation was normal still, some pointed ignoring of Ed that was too obvious to be polite, but he may not be listening and they’re excluding him because he’s caught up in Stede, how warm his presence felt in rooms he was in. the man was distracting as hell even if you weren’t dating him. Ed did talk a little, and it was almost nice to hear him sound relaxed again. Hearing him when he was angry and more recently when he was in tears at Izzy’s grave made him almost forget he could sound happy. At least he was happy.

Edward was doing better than he had in decades, and Izzy was sitting outside, playing dead, hearing conversations he shouldn’t, wondering why the fuck Bonnet thought it was fitting that he eventually live indoors, or tell Ed he was alive and eventually plan to do… whatever it was that washed-up, back from the dead pirates do when they suddenly have no purpose to live for. Everyone and everything was better off without him around, clearly.

Bonnet’s so hellbent on thinking I still have a place to be for one reason and one reason only. The fucking polite society he was born into and steeped in until he left. The fucking sewage of politeness and never saying what you mean seeped into his skin so deeply he can’t get the fucking stench off him and out of his skull. That fucker is lying to himself and to me because I have nowhere else to go now, stuck in the past like I've been for twenty years. It’s impolite to tell the dead man walking he’s better off staying dead.

He preferred being stuck in his ways, not being an old dog forced to learn new tricks. He wanted to be a tool again, acting as sharpened steel rather than a man, the right hand of his boss, happy to survive rather than really live. He wasn’t much use lately, secretly alive because of bad luck and a damn seagull. Izzy’s stomach growled again.

Relentless fucking body.

Not even ruminating on his fuckups helped that. It used to work, but clearly, he’d gotten spoiled, with regular food, not rationing since Bonnet reinstated himself as captain, then further when he ended up living outside their inn, since rationing food on land was a stupid idea. Maybe Bonnet would see fit to sneak out and bring him food. He always did, even if he got caught up in Ed, spending the morning day or evening together, doing couple shit, as If Izzy would ask. He usually did ask why he was still regularly bringing food, and his answer never changed. It was always ‘because I can’t bear to let an old friend of Ed’s suffer like that.’ He’d then add that he’d bring anyone food, but knowing it was him, it felt more like something he needed to do.

It sounded too polite to be genuine, but so did everything that came out of that man’s mouth. He was a damn good actor when he needed to be, if anything ever was an act. A lot like how act and man bled together with Edward, he had no idea what part of Bonnet’s words were genuine. It was always the same words, so it was probably genuine, little as Izzy believed.

Still, an old friend of Ed’s. Hearing him say that stung more than comforted, with how he was treated. Bonnet and him both sort of caused the breakdown, but to be the main target of a heartbroken man like that, it wasn’t friendship. It was being a training dummy who bled when he got cut. He could take it, knew he could take it, he’d always been able to take pain and damage like that, up until he couldn’t, and when it was over, when the storm and the mutiny damn near killed him, it was Ed who’d been taken out first. Izzy was collateral damage, proof their boss had been broken in ways no one thought could be mended, and Izzy was down a limb because of it, but they both survived, everyone did, except for Ivan.

Ed apologized for fucking up his leg, but the blame felt murky enough it didn’t feel genuine.

The problem with staying around was that Bonnet was too permissive, and the food was too good, that was the fucking problem with the fucking inn. Stede fucking Bonnet had his share of problems, least of all was the way he let Izzy stay outside, not making him do anything, pretending he was dead in front of the man he loved. He couldn’t focus on a damn thing besides eavesdropping and wishing he was actually alone. He missed hearing the simple conversation, grossly enough, he missed the peace when nothing was happening, no plans to carry out or fires to put out. He missed the company of the crew, as furious as they used to make him, he didn’t have to think about shit like how broken his brain was or the hunger snaking its way up from the bottom of his guts back into his brain. He wanted to be around them again, not talk about what happened, pretend it didn’t, that his leg was intact, and he didn’t have a suspicious scar on his forehead from a bullet grazing him that still hadn’t fucking faded, or the bullet wound slowly healing on his stomach. It would be easier that way. He missed things being easy.

Before his stomach could make its hunger known yet again, hammering in the point that Izzy had gotten complacent and weak since losing his leg and dying, and because of that he’d never survive at sea, he saw Stede, walking over with his dinner.

“Sorry it took a minute, I had to wait to sneak off, it’s a bit harder than with just Ed, lot of eyes watching me, and then with Ed and everyone— you understand it, I’m sure. Here.”

Izzy gratefully took the plate and dug in, realizing that Stede was still standing in front of him, he made a split-second decision that fuck it, he could take the real answer to the question stuck in his head. “How’s he holding up?”

“I could and should ask you the same, but he’s doing well, considering no one’s talking about what happened with him when I left and what happened to you during and after that, dying and all. It’s the best we could hope for, considering someone’s grave marker is still outside. Ed’s doing fine, managing wonderfully, and no one’s tried to kill each other. It’s the best we could ask for.”

“Sure is.”

“But the real question at hand is how you are. So, are you doing alright? I’m sure you’re not doing fantastically, considering the circumstances, and being by yourself out here. I’m not pushing you to do a damn thing, you know that, just trying to consider how you feel for a bit. Faking your death is a lot, I’m sure, especially when you didn’t plan to.”

“Sure didn’t plan it. Thought I was dead, probably was for a bit there. And for your information I've been sitting out here all day, wondering why the fuck I’m here and not there, eating dinner with you and everyone else, and why I’m not at sea still, doing God knows what instead of this misery. And now, I’m talking to you. All in all, I’m not dead.”

Stede sighed sympathetically. “Right. I don’t know what I expected. As for what you want to do, I know Ed would be thrilled to know you were alive, staying or not, so don’t let that worry you. He wants you to be happy, more than anything else. He knows you were miserable sticking with him when he wasn’t acting himself, he’s told me as much. Until you’re comfortable enough to talk to him, and figure out what you want, I will help you as much as I can. Doing this lets me keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe.”

“Because you love him.”

Stede smiled. “Exactly. No offense, of course, it’s just we didn’t start on great terms, and it took a while for the both of us to be civil like this, so I’m doing this more for his sake. I obviously don’t want you dead but…”

“I get it. I’ll talk to him, eventually. I don’t know when, but I will. I have to come clean eventually, it’s fucking killing you to lie, obvious on your face. I’m glad you love him like that, it’s what he’s needed.”

“And he would love to know you were okay. You can try to believe me when I say he misses you.”

“Yeah, I can tell that with how no one’s mentioned me except when they have to.”

“Because your death shook everyone up. He still misses you; you know better.”

“Sure. Just go back to dinner, you know he’s not doing well on his own. I’m sure at least one of them is staring at Ed like he’ll rip their guts out and smear the godawful paint back over his face again.”

“You’re right that no one’s quite sure how to handle Ed and I lately, mainly him, I like to imagine I’m still myself enough to talk to normally. You seem to manage that fine.”

“Because you haven’t changed that much. Killed a man, sure, attempted piracy alone, quit the job, and moved into a fucking inn with Edward, but you’re the same man I’ve known. The two of you are lunatics, I know better than to expect either of you to make predictable decisions. You can head back inside, I’m sure at least one of them is staring at Ed like he’ll rip their guts out and smear the godawful paint back over his face again.”

“I’m seeing to it that he doesn’t do that again, he’s working on it too.”

“Good. Doesn’t mean they know that, though.”

“I know. That’s why I’m keeping this brief. See you in the morning.”

“I’ll be here, like always,” Izzy replied.

***

Dinner had gone well, all things considered, after sheepishly explaining the purpose of the inn, and its unfinished state, and mitigating the lingering stares at Ed, knowing he looked pretty different than anyone remembered him and there were some psychological wounds from what happened.

After everyone left, Stede and Ed went to their bedroom.

“So, that went well, don’t you think?”

Ed raised an eyebrow. “You thought it wouldn’t?”

“I thought it would be more awkward, for obvious reasons. Everything good when I stepped out?”

“Yeah, got quiet without you around but it was fine. They’re not idiots, they generally get that I won’t try to hurt them again.”

“And they said they’d stop by again after a while, which is a great sign that they trust the two of us and actually did come back on purpose. Are you still hungry?”

“Yeah. You noticed?”

“I know how much you usually eat, and I know you were nervous, I was too. I was thinking we could both indulge a little tonight.”

“You don’t have to convince me on it,” Ed said, grinning.

“But it’s more fun to convince you on my great ideas, like how I know for a fact there’s cake left over in the kitchen that we could split. Although I think it’d be more two thirds to one third in your favor.”

“Tempting. Too bad I already wanted to before you offered that. Sounds like fun though.”

“Exactly. Back in a minute.”

Standing in the kitchen alone, despite the promise of a nice moment with Ed, didn’t help the thought that Izzy was still outside, alone.

Eventually, he will sort himself out and he’ll be ready to talk to Ed again. It’ll work out fine, he reminded himself silently, biting down on the inside of his cheek and forcing the feeling down, letting go as soon as it passed.

Stede walked back to their room with their dessert, with how he was feeling, mainly Ed's. He'd taken the remaining part of a cake, along with two forks with him.

"Dessert, as promised."

"You really think we're gonna finish it tonight, don’t you?" Ed asked as soon as he saw him in the doorway, eyes glittering.

"Neither of us managed to eat much for dinner, I think at least you can handle some of this," he replied, settling in beside him.

"I think I can." Ed paused before taking his fork, gaze flicking downwards for an instant as he grinned. "I also think I'm a bad influence on you."

"Why's that?"

"I think this right here is new," he answered, fingertips brushing over a bit of softness that had settled over Stede’s belly.

It was new, Stede noticed it a couple of days ago when he was getting dressed and hadn't been overly enthusiastic about it.

Stupidly, he assumed, despite the evidence, that the occasional desserts he shared with Ed lately wouldn’t have any impact on how his clothes fit, or how he looked. Even worse, he was the one who suggested dessert, and he wanted to eat it as much as ed did. He hated to ruin the moment, so he brushed it off as best as he could, pushing the conflicted thought out of his head. He liked indulging with him, it was that the side effects brought to mind every bully who’d found that particular sore spot and pressed it until it stung. “Maybe it is.”

"I think it is. I don’t remember seeing it before. It makes sense, you should get to enjoy the peace and quiet out here just as much as I do."

Stede smiled tightly, making a determined effort not to look as self-conscious as he felt, or to breathe too deeply and make the slight softness that much more noticeable. "It was bound to happen, I think, eating dessert with you rather than feeding you most nights now."

"It suits you," Ed said easily, like he could tell how tense he was. He took his fork and started digging into the cake, happy to eat his share no matter what.

"Sure," Stede replied, watching him eat, jealous of how he was clearly enjoying himself much more than Stede was, agonizing over what was in all honestly an insignificant change to his body that only someone who saw him every day would have noticed. Or if they were his pants, which had noticed and had their issues with the padding that settled on his body.

Ed paused, licking some frosting that had stuck to the fork, studying Stede's expression. "I wouldn’t bullshit you; you know. It'd still suit you if it wasn’t just that little bit. I love when you eat with me, more fun that way."

"I think part of the boyfriend situation is not bullshitting, love."

"Which just means it’s not me trying to make you feel better so you’ll stop looking so worried. I can tell something's bugging you, so just tell me what it is. I’d happily finish this alone, but I think you really wanted to split it with me and whatever’s on your mind is fucking you up enough that you don’t want to eat."

"I do, it’s just… it's silly is what it is."

"I don’t care if you think it’s silly. I still want to know.”

Stede took a long breath. "You remember the man who kidnapped me and shot himself. He was my childhood bully and his twin who also died in an accidental-on-purpose killing. It’s a problem that came from them, things they said to me when I was young."

"A bully thing then. Right, figures. I know you don’t mind it on me, it’d be something if you didn’t, knowing how handsy you’ve been lately. You should know already I’d like it on you too." He moved his hand from where it was resting and found Stede’s hand, held it and gently squeezed. “I’d kick their asses for being dicks to you if they weren’t… you know.” He grinned, trying to make him smile. “Blackbeard or not, I’m probably still good in a fight.”

Stede smiled uneasily. "They do die easy, that's… for sure. I just thought I was over it, since they’re dead, and I saw them both die, and still. I like doing this with you, and yet, I can’t take my own advice and not care what they’d think of me. As if they’d even care, outside of the few jokes that they made a dozen times.”

“They were dicks. I only sort of met one of them, and I know that. Doesn’t matter now what they’d think, but it comes to mind still, right?”

Stede nodded, feeling pathetic.

“Just think about something else, like how you and I both should’ve eaten more for dinner, and how I can tell you wouldn’t mind me eating all of that alone, but I think you’d like to help just as much. This is supposed to be fun, remember that for me, yeah? I want you to enjoy it just as much as I enjoy it, food included. Consequences included too.” He dropped Stede’s hand and brushed his fingers over the padding on the other man’s stomach, and softness giving way slightly. “I love the look of the consequences on you. So. Now that things’re clear, you still want some?”

Stede nodded again, finally eager, taking a bite of the cake after taking the other fork.

"Good?"

"Great. Well worth any and all consequences."

"And fuck the bullies, right?"

"Absolutely. Especially when they're gone, and I have a wonderful boyfriend who will happily flatter me and remind me of my own advice."

"You deserve it."

Stede still finished early, not quite as practiced as his boyfriend at eating more than his fill. Ed still happily finished the rest of the cake, egged on by Stede’s very convincing touches, compliments and offers of taking just one more bite.

Ed arched his back into Stede’s hand, happily soaking in the praise.

“Good work. All full?”

“More than full. Next time they come, maybe you’ll keep up with me a little more,” Ed said.

“Maybe I will,” Stede agreed. “I think this particular dish can wait until tomorrow morning to go back to the kitchen."

“It definitely can. Do you need more reminding that you look even better when you enjoy yourself?”

"I think I do. You need some attention for eating so much with my coaxing."

Ed rested a protective arm over Stede's chest, holding him close. "This good?" he asked.

"It’s great.”

They settled in comfortably, cuddling until they both fell asleep.

***

By the time it was quiet again, after the Revenge left, along with her crew, Izzy knew what needed to be done. Sitting alone in the silence only made it clearer.

He had to tell Ed he was alive, and soon. One way or another, he had to, and that meant figuring out how to look at the man without feeling the sinking sensation in his guts like he was scared to get hurt again. He couldn’t keep making Stede lie, it was getting downright cruel. The idea of it made him nauseous. Neither of them wanted to face their mistakes made physical. Edward half avoided everyone before he and Stede apparently saw the writing on the wall and left on their own.

He knew he had to from the instant he got caught trying to sleep inside, but it never got further than the nauseated feeling he got every time he considered how he could do it. He knew it would be fine, it was obvious by the way there weren’t any fights when they had dinner. Ed was a man and not a monster, but after the lines got muddy enough times, it was hard to remember that. The crew being around and Stede’s nervous chatting gave him a thought though.

Stede made for a damn good buffer. Ed probably hated acting like that in front of him, Izzy could use that to his advantage, especially since Bonnet had offered his help before. It wasn’t a big ask, not worse than keep the miserable puddle of a man alive until he regrew his spine, and that was an offered favor. He didn’t feel like himself yet, but damn it, he had to do something before he got worse.

So, he had until his next meal to flesh out his plan.

He was less sure when he was handed his breakfast, but he still had to sort his shit out.

“Bonnet, you got time to talk? I have a favor to ask.”

Stede nodded. “Alright. What do you need?”

“Your help talking to Edward, telling him I’m alive. So far, I think I have to stay, no good anywhere but at sea, and the crew already went back out. Guess that’s two favors, help talking to him, and a place to sleep inside.”

Stede brightened noticeably. “Oh! Really? You’re sure?”

“Sure as I can be. So long as you’re positive he won’t try to snap my neck or stab me or shoot me again. Be a hell of a mess to clean up, judging by the fallout from the last time he did.”

“He won’t do a thing to you. I assume my help is preventing that outcome, unlikely as it is?”

“You didn’t see how he acted around me when you dumped him,” Izzy shot back.

“I didn’t, true, but I have seen how he is now, and I can promise you that you won't get hurt by him again.”

“Great. I’ll trust you when I wake up with my remaining limbs intact after he’s seen me alive. So, when do you want to do this? I can’t figure him out these days, you’re the one who understands him now, so I need your help with that too.”

Stede considered it for a moment. “Would tonight work or is that too soon? My thinking is that it keeps you from stressing yourself out over it since it’s soon, and we can have dinner together after the initial conversation is over with, and you get to sleep inside tonight. I’m positive he will be fine with any time so long as he’s in an alright mood and he’s doing well today.”

“Will it keep me from getting killed? Easier to deal with corpse cleanup outside, out here’s the best place to start the fucking ordeal, I think.”

Stede sighed. “Izzy, he is not going to kill you. It will go fantastically, and you’ll ask yourself why you were so unsettled about it by the time he’s happy you’re alive and safe.”

“Because you’re so—” Izzy started, then growled irritably, realizing his point wasn’t true. “You’re good at plans, fuck. Fine, sure, it’ll work out. Never mind that you’re twice as lucky as I ever was.”

“We can use some optimism,” Stede prompted.

“Fine, if he kills me, it’ll be fast, it won’t scare the shit out of you, and he won’t turn on you. How’s that?” he supplied flatly.

“For your information, he’s not typically in a murderous mood these days. He misses you, and he loves being out here. No murder.”

“Glad someone here does.”

“So, tonight?”

“It’s a plan. It’ll work out one way or another.”

“It certainly has to. You’re settled, right? Not because you think you have to for my sake, but because you’re ready?”

“I won’t ever be ready, Bonnet, that’s naïve. But sure, by your definition, I’m ready.”

“See you in a while, and then with Ed.”

Izzy nodded and watched Stede walk back into the inn.

Lunch was uneventful, a break in his worrying and incessant thinking about every single fucking contingency. Working with Blackbeard did that to you, clearly. Stede didn’t stay long, which was a bonus, gave Izzy more time to sit in his emotions and let them wear into his body, eroding his willpower.

***

Stede was probably half as nervous as Izzy was about telling Ed he was alive, particularly the small detail that he had been for months and hid his presence from him despite knowing how he felt about Izzy’s death and the way he went along with the idea he was gone. He’d have to apologize for that one, he was lucky he was really getting used to apologizing to his boyfriend for things he’d done out of a sense of anxiety. At least this time it wasn’t anyone’s fault, it hadn’t been when he left him at the dock, but that one was a bit more emotionally weighty.

When it was getting later, he found Ed, halfheartedly cleaning out a storage room that was eventually meant to be a bedroom.

“Love, do you have a minute to step outside with me? There’s something that needs both of us to see to. Should only take a few minutes.” Something like your dead ex-first mate breathing again.

Ed grinned. If he was skeptical, it wasn’t obvious on his face. “That’s vague, but sure, I should probably stretch my legs, been sitting like this for a while.”

“It’s just behind the building, I can show you.” Stede said, giving Ed a chance to stretch before leading him outside. He took his hand once they got outside, out of habit, and to soothe his own nerves until the actual ordeal started.

***

Waiting was agony. Izzy was so tense he knew he’d be sore in the morning. Sorer than usual anyway, sleeping on the ground after sitting almost all day, save for wandering around when he could, making sure he wasn’t about to get caught. His jaw ached from the tension of gritting his teeth for so long. He’d been thinking over all the possible outcomes for hours, pacing the length of the inn and sitting down again just for the nervous energy to overtake his body the instant he sat still.

Then, out of the disgusting amount of silence he’d been suffering through, he heard footsteps.

For the first time in a while, he was glad to hear Ed coming.

“So, it’s a stowaway? Can’t imagine a raccoon would keep bedding around like that. You could just tell them to fuck off, and we’re not open yet, you’re great at being a dick,” Ed said, sounding cheerful.

“I’d deserve that one,” Izzy muttered.

He didn’t realize the pair was so close, or that he was talking too loudly, just as he saw his old boss standing in front of him, Stede next to him, holding his hand.

Ed stopped in his tracks, ashen faced, staring, looking terrified, like he’d seen a ghost. To his credit, that was a very warranted assumption.

Ed found his voice after a few agonizingly long seconds of watching Izzy like he’d suddenly disappear. “Iz? You’re— you’re dead, we buried you. The fuck are you doing out here?”

Izzy Studied his face, trying to judge his expression and decide on his response accordingly.

“Love, he’s back,” Stede said.

Ed scoffed. “Like hell. Best case, he’s a fucking ghost.”

“I can see him too, darling, he’s certainly not a ghost.”

Izzy sighed, “Edward, I’m not a fucking ghost. If you’d let me explain what happened—”

“I’m having another fucking nightmare. You know, I was hoping I outgrew having new ones. But of course I didn’t, no one could, right? Always another fucking ghost to torture you all fucking over again. So, let’s get into it. I’m a monster for killing my dad, and for trying to drink and overdose myself to death after I thought I got dumped and took that pain out on you for months. I tried to kill you and then you got killed and it’s probably my fucking fault, and you’re here now cause I didn’t follow your fucking burial wishes and cried while you were dying in my arms, against your general wishes for my goddamn behavior. That it? Anything I forgot? This is an awful nightmare, don’t even know when I fell asleep. You know, I only get these kinds of nightmares when I’m doing really fucking awful. I thought I was doing pretty damn well all things considered, dead friend and all, if were friends. Are we, d’you think? Maybe you can answer that one, with your biased opinions.” He grinned, the old ‘I’m fucking Blackbeard, you’ve heard of the shit I've pulled, so try me one more time’ grin. “I’m really curious, even if this is just the inside of my skull making this shit up.”

“That’s a hard question,” Izzy answered. Playing ghost or not, it was hard to define their relationship, especially at the end.

Ed laughed bitterly, dropping Stede’s hand. “Sure it is. You hurt a guy over and over for months and he’s not sure you’re his friend or not. I was right back then, I’m too much of a monster to have friends. Don’t say a fucking word about it Stede, I’m not in the mood to hear that I’m not, because I’m standing here with a fucking ghost who should hate me and want me dead, and he’s conflicted.”

“Ed, sweetheart, please.” Stede’s gaze met Izzy’s, desperate in a way he’d never seen before. “Izzy, maybe tell him what you told me, when I found you.”

“Found me, like I’m a lost puppy,” Izzy scoffed.

“Don’t keep going along with it. I’m a grown up, I can handle my shit. We buried you, Iz, had a funeral, I felt you die, I felt the warmth leave your fucking body as you bled out in my arms. Even if it’s not a dream I’m having, you and I both know where he is, Stede, you should know too, Iz, we buried you outside under the grave marker. Hardly looks like it’s yours now but still, fucks sake, we buried you.”

Izzy glared, impatiently waiting for his old boss to finish. “If you’re done being convinced that I’m a walking corpse, you’re right, I was where you left me, then Buttons brought me back. Sorry I gave you shit about the seagull thing, by the way, he really did do all that shit. I was dead, then I was in the fucking gravy basket with a talking seagull, if that was real, I apparently chose to live, and now, I’m here, had to claw my way out of the ground. I got to learn that dirt tastes fucking horrible mixed with blood and bile in your mouth and throat. I've been back for a few months. I went inside from the weather once and that’s how Bonnet caught me. He agreed to keep me being back a secret from you until I was ready to talk to you again. If you’re pissed about that, or anything else, take it out on me.”

Ed’s expression was pained, then determined. “I won’t ever do that again. Not to you or anyone else. I trust you. I should trust you; I spent years trusting you. Not like you’ve really lied to me like that in twenty years, not about something that big. Plus, I’d be used to you being shitty when you don’t believe me when I tell you something like the bird guy turned into a bird. Hard to discount you when you aren’t being shitty with me or blaming me for you dying.”

“Fair enough, I guess. Gravy basket’s a bitch to deal with.” Izzy paused and frowned. “In case that’s not enough, I’m not wearing my old clothes, there’s another vote against ghost. I won’t argue the existence of ghosts, heard too many stories of people who don’t believe getting killed by ‘em. And I've got this back, plus my leg.” He grabbed at his tie that he’d taken from the grave marker. “Next time you bury the family dog, leave his collar on his neck and his limbs intact.”

His expression crumbled then solidified into fierce protectiveness. “There’s not gonna be a next time.”

“So, am I your worst nightmare or do you realize it’s just me, your second worst nightmare? I’m breathing too, in case you didn’t notice that. the devil’s in the details.”

The tension visibly bled out of Ed’s body. “Shit. I— it’s you, Iz.”

Izzy managed half a smile, tense and guilt-ridden. “In the flesh. Should’ve told you sooner.”

“I know why you didn’t, so don’t fucking apologize for that.”

“I should’ve told you anyway, you deserved to know I made it out alive.”

The guilt made tears well in Ed’s eyes.

That didn’t help how tense Izzy was. He could count the number of times he’d seen him cry on one hand. “Don’t cry, c’mon. You can only cry when I’m really dead, which won’t be for a while yet, if the seagull’s got any say in it. I’m fine, in as many pieces as I was in before I got shot.”

That only made it worse. The tears spilled over, and Stede took his hand again, squeezing it tight.

“I told you I was awful at this,” Izzy growled at Stede.

“You’re both doing just fine,” Stede said, rubbing his thumb over Ed’s hand. “It’s a lot to take in for you both.”

“I spent so much time thinking about a better way to apologize for what happened and now I’m the one who’s all fucked up about it. damn it.”

“I've had time to come to terms with it,” Izzy offered as explanation.

Ed swiped the tears away with his free hand. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I know it’s my fault you thought you had to hide out. Prob’ly thought I’d be mad at you and hurt you again. Not mad at you, by the way. Furious with myself, though, making you think you had to sleep outside.”

Izzy shrugged. “It’s what happens. Buttons turned into a fucking bird, same bird saved my life, you two idiots buried me on land when I know damn well you and I agreed to be buried at sea since neither of us had places to be buried or family to be buried with.”

“It was more dignified,” Stede clarified.

“Fuck dignity,” Izzy spat.

Ed took a slow breath in the silence. “Dignified or not, you deserve a lot of apologies. I didn’t listen to you when you told me what to do with you if you died before me. I didn’t listen to you a lot, I should’ve told you to fuck off when you went hard on me after I thought Stede dumped me. And don’t say I already apologized, because it was half-assed, and you took all the fucking blame when you got shot when you and I both know it wasn’t all your fault all that happened. I— I’m so fucking sorry. I should’ve known better than to do that to anyone, the threats, the violence, making you have to get your leg cut off, trying to kill you a dozen different ways. I dealt with the shit my dad did to me and my mom, and no one helped us even when they saw proof he was doing that to us. I killed him just to— to turn around some 30 years later and do the same shit to you. And no one could help you as much as you needed because I scared the shit out of them, too. I acted like a monster, a shitty drunk monster, like my dad, and no one deserves that. No one. Ever. Because when you start doing that shit, it makes you worse, and you do worse things, and it makes people you care about get scared. I don’t ever want to scare you again, Iz, and I’m sorry that I did, that I hurt you a dozen fucking ways, and never thought that I was doing damage to you that was fucking permanent. I was a monster, and now I’m trying every day to never be that monster again. So, I’m also sorry it took me hurting you, and everyone else, to figure that out. Especially during and after the mutiny, I could’ve gotten everyone killed, and I’m lucky I didn’t. I get it if you want to leave and this was more of a good riddance you dick sort of thing, I’d leave if I was you, plenty of shit to be done at sea, or wherever you’d go to get away from me and the Blackbeard shit.”

Izzy grinned ruefully. “I knew you’d apologize anyway. What’s done is done. I get what happened, and why, looking at you now, and seeing how you were after you and him patched things up, he’s a good influence on you. I believe you, that you want to be better. And I’m not about to tell you to fuck off now, last time I tried that shit, I got hurt pretty damn bad. That’s the other part of why I’m still here. I’m pretty sure I’m not good for anything but being at sea, but I also know I’m not in a state that I’d survive out there like I could before. So, if you’d let me, I want to stay, fix things between us. Best case, be friends again. I miss that, as long ago as it’s been since you and I were friends.”

Ed blinked. “You really want to fix things?”

“Yeah. If I didn’t, I’d be far away from here by now. Bonnet didn’t talk me into it, it was my choice. It’s what felt better to me.” Izzy shrugged.

“I’d believe him if I were you,” Stede said, nudging Ed lightly with his shoulder.

“I know. I do trust that he’s not lying. I don’t think anyone could force you to do a damn thing.”

“And now you’re dealing with me again. You’re sure you want me around?”

“I really missed you, Iz. Course I want you around.”

“I heard as much. It sounds better directly, though.”

“Oh. …right.”

“Not like I meant to listen. Living outside, you can’t help but hear shit you’re not supposed to. Except that was your fucked up plan, right, Bonnet?”

“Not a good plan, but yes. I was trying to get Izzy to realize you weren’t mad at him. I hope you’re not upset with me about that. Izzy was, I think he was angry enough for the both of you.”

“It was good idea. One problem with it, though. Can’t fix stubborn.”

“Even if you try,” Izzy added. “Because it never works.”

“Isn’t this going better than you thought it would?” Stede asked, looking grossly smug.

“It is, but you aren’t going to make it a thing,” Izzy replied in a growl.

“I for one thought you’d be more pissed about the whole burial location bit.”

“I had other shit to deal with.”

“So, you ready to see the place, Izzy? You’ve seen a bit of it, but you should get to see the whole place since you’re not hiding out and sneaking into the one room you could find.”
“May as well, since I’m gonna be staying for a while.”

“Dinner after? You’re probably hungry too, right, Iz?”

Izzy shrugged. He hated admitting to that shit, Bonnet brought him food on a loose schedule and his body adjusted accordingly. Even if Edward wasn’t this boss, he still couldn’t bear to show weakness like that.

Ed furrowed his brow. “You haven’t mentioned how I look.”

After being prompted to look, Izzy did again. His gaze flicked over Ed’s body, sort of shamelessly, and on impulse, ashamed only that he felt like he had no business looking at him anymore. His thighs looked thicker than he remembered, and his belly rested just slightly over the top of his pants. You could barely tell with the loose shirt he was in, but it wasn’t easy to hide the fact he’d gotten wider with just a loose shirt. Edward honestly looked good. He knew instantly he’d have to say that because he knew he looked for too long, and Ed’s expression shifted to a mixture of worry and very mild resignation. He looked like he was used to being glanced over like that, or he’d misinterpreted the way Izzy was looking at him.

“Why would I? You haven’t mentioned how I’m not wearing my old stuff. It was covered in blood and dirt and torn from when I got shot. You look like you’re happy for the first time in years, genuinely happy. Feels shitty I probably made you a little miserable during that time, but you know why I did what I did. I can tell he’s giving you enough food, more than plenty, and it suits you. Don’t expect me to be awful to you again. If you changed, I should be able to do the same. I never pressed you on food except when you starved yourself accidentally. You look like you’re happy, why the fuck would I ruin that now?”

“Sure. Guess I did sort of expect the worst from you. Crew was nice about me getting fat too. Maybe it does suit me.”

“Have I not complimented you enough? Sweetheart, you should realize by now that you look nice. I’m fairly confident that you’d look absolutely gorgeous no matter how you looked.”

“Just don’t do the black kohl shit again. It made you look miserable.”

Ed shot him a look. “I was miserable. Lashing out at everyone for my own problems that I should’ve dealt with alone.”

Stede shifted uncomfortably. “Well, now that everything is settled enough for now, how about we head inside?”

They walked inside and Izzy was shown around the inn. He’d seen a bit of the place already, going in to steal or getting stuck in the rain. Everything else was storage, future bedrooms. They noted their future projects like the spots where the floor was damaged by the leaking roof, spots where the walls needed touching up, rooms to clear out and turn into bedrooms, storage areas. They hadn’t done much work since Izzy was stuck inside with the weather.

When the tour was over, Stede looked embarrassed. “We, ah, haven’t done much, which you can tell. There’s also not exactly a spare bedroom set up quite yet. I didn’t think ahead far enough to realize that if you really were going to stay, you’d need a bedroom to sleep in.”

Izzy shrugged. “It’s fine. Practically an upgrade from sleeping outside.”

“Not permanently! Just for a few days until we get a room set up,”

Ed’s brow furrowed. “Can we work on your standards along with us being friends again?”

“Fine with me. Keeps me around that much longer, if you can deal with that.”

“you’re not a problem to deal with,” Stede reminded him.

“Sure I’m not. I’m just making work for you two during your honeymoon,” Izzy shot back.

The pair flushed and Stede found their excuse quicker. “Hey! We were going to get things cleaned up sooner than later. We just kept getting… distracted.”

“I already said I’d deal with it for now, hell, I’ll help out if I can, have to be useful somehow.”

Stede looked sympathetic. “You don’t have to be useful to be here.”

I don’t need pity, Bonnet, Izzy shot back silently. “Spend over half your life being worth the trouble of being another mouth to feed, it sticks in your head.”

“It’s gonna take some work, isn’t it?” Ed asked.

Izzy smiled halfway. “Fixing my broken fucking brain? Probably. Got plenty of time for you two to get sick of keeping me around, when it happens, you two can shove me off to sea and tell me never to come back.”

“It’d never work. You always come back. Like a goddamn cockroach.” Ed replied grimly, his smile betraying his feelings.

“Blackbeard’s attack dog,” Izzy replied, matching his tone. “Kinda have to come back. It’s not like I’ve ever been on my own for long. Probably end up worse off if I was.”

“You’d be fine alone, probably better off without me around you. But I still missed you, Iz. I’m glad you want to stay.”

“You’re almost too happy I lived.”

“Can you maybe not say that? I’m allowed to be happy you’re not dead, I think.” Ed’s brow was furrowed again, like his non-joke had struck a nerve.

Izzy didn’t push on the point. Not worth the mess you have to clean up after saying something wrong twice and upsetting the balance. “S’pose you do.”

“Well. Since you’ve seen everything, I need to get dinner sorted. Ed, if you’d like to help me out?”

Ed followed Stede to the kitchen, leaving Izzy to do nothing but follow them, and sit awkwardly nearby, as if he had to be in their sight. He dragged a chair from a table nearby and positioned it so he’d be in sight of Ed and Stede both. He didn’t know what to do with himself, again. He was lucky he was exhausted, otherwise he’d be pacing the hallway aimlessly. Izzy watched Ed and Stede work through making dinner, being an utterly happy couple together. It took a lot to not let it get to him.

He doesn’t need you around him anymore, he just wants you around. Bonnet probably tolerates you.

It became very clear that they’d temporarily forgotten they had a guest because they had to separate themselves from each other multiple times, acting like lovesick teenagers. They managed apologetic looks and pointedly found things to do away from the other.

Soon enough, after Izzy forced himself to be lost in thought and sit still for the fourth time, he was asked to help set the table. It was probably because he looked tense, but he did, after dragging his chair back to the table and stiffly trying to act normally around Ed.

As soon as they had their food, it was silent. Too silent to be comfortable, clearly, since Izzy noticed he and Ed were both fidgeting. Stede was relaxed looking, but he was better at this shit than he and ed were. Knowing how Ed acted when he was pulling an act, it wasn’t real on Stede either. Too relaxed, to the point it looked practiced, almost mechanical.

Izzy tried to make conversation, dredging up the few things he remembered about politeness. “I gotta ask, cause I never did after I figured out this place is supposed to be an inn, what’s the big plan for the place? What the hell are you two gonna run an inn for?”

Stede smiled nervously. “Well, its twofold. One, we get to live out our lives in peace out here, that’s the main thing, but the other part, he and I talked about it after you… you know. We came to the realization that pirates who get tired of piracy or decide it’s not for them have practically nowhere to go, aside from dying. It’s sort of a best-case scenario thing, but…” he paused, fidgeting uncomfortably. “We were hoping it could be a place for pirates, or ex-pirates to stay. There’re not many good places left, after what happened to the republic. Having a place to stay should help. Of course we haven’t done… anything much, besides doing our bedroom, but it’s a long-term goal.”

“A retirement home for old guard dogs.”

“In a way, you’re right. When we eventually get the place up and running, it will probably seem a bit like that. It doesn’t mean you or anyone else would have to stay permanently, of course, but we’d be happy to have you around for as long as you need to be here.

Izzy glanced up at Ed warily. “And you’re alright with that, Edward? Want the same old thorn in your side still?”

“Of course I do. We’ve got 60 more years to pester each other before I’ll get sick of you. Minimum. “

“Can’t get sick of you either, boss.”

Ed smiled. “Not your boss anymore, you know. Just Ed Teach, local innkeeper.”

Izzy shrugged. “Old habits.”

“You can keep calling me that, it’s alright, although people’ll get the wrong idea if they hear you and you’re a guest.”

“You think I’ll stay that long?”

Ed shrugged, nonchalant. “Dunno. Depends on you, how long it takes to fix things, and if you want to go back to the Revenge. And if we ever get any customers.”

“As if they’d take me, I’m a dead man walking, in case you forgot. I’m a liability.”

Ed scoffed. “No you’re not. They fucking love you, man, they’d take you on in a heartbeat. You’re a veteran at that shit, better at it than I ever was by a mile. They’d be lucky to have you around.”

“Says the man who tried to kill almost every member of that crew,” Izzy shot back.

“I didn’t say they’d take me; I said they’d take you. You never tried murder on any of them.”

Izzy shrugged. “Tried threats a lot, though. Maybe you’re right, maybe they would. You’re usually right when I think you’re wrong about something. It’ll be a while before I even think about it.”

“It doesn’t hurt to plan for the future,” Stede reminded him.

“it’s hard to when you didn’t think you had one,” Izzy replied.

“Right,” Stede said quietly.

The conversation died from there, no one willing to make small talk about anything in particular, and they had to eat dinner to get the day over with.

As Izzy ate, refusing to make a second effort at starting a conversation, he recognized that Bonnet had entirely undone whatever misgivings about food Ed had, even if his body and its new softness betrayed the idea that he could have had any misgivings left after washing his hands of piracy. He used to refuse food when he felt worse, so it made some amount of sense he was happily eating more since he felt better. Bonnet wasn’t completely blameless in the seemingly sudden change, because he did give Ed a second helping after he finished his food. Neither of them looked embarrassed if they saw Izzy noticing their new habit, it was probably just routine for them, as much as Ed could eat lately.

To Edward’s credit, it wasn’t hard to see why he’d devoured the first helping. The food was better when it wasn’t lukewarm. He almost asked Stede if he always knew how to cook, except he’d killed the conversation by acting like himself, and wasn’t about to try again. He probably didn’t, knowing where he’d come from originally. He let them do most of the talking, it wasn’t anything of substance, mainly just chatter about planning a bedroom, discussing what furniture was where, what to put where while they were cleaning a room out tomorrow. None of it was important, and none of it was anything Izzy could add to, so he did the smart thing and kept his mouth shut or focused on his food. Eventually, after Izzy devoured his food, hungrier than he thought that he was, Ed and Stede were done too.

“We can set up a spot for you to sleep in our room, if that’s alright with you?” Stede offered.

“Anything is better than sleeping outside. I’ll clean up my old spot outside in the morning.”

“Sure. No rush, but if you want to, feel free.”

Obviously, there wasn’t a hurry on it, but Izzy already knew he’d want the time alone, and he could draw out taking the blankets in for at least a couple of hours without worrying anyone.

“Can working on your standards happen sooner than later?” Ed asked, tentatively hopeful. “Might be faster than unfucking the whole thing between us, and you kinda need help on your standards right now.”

“Can’t promise I’ll get any better.”

“You can at least learn how to appreciate a bed, mate. I don’t think you’ll want to sleep with us, but seriously, we can get you a room set up in a few days, you don’t have to settle for the floor.”

“I already appreciate the fact you haven’t killed me, or threatened me, and you’re less of a wreck than I thought you’d be. You handled everything shockingly well. He helps you a lot.”

Stede smiled. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Izzy.”

“You can shut up about it.”

“Still nice to hear you compliment me, even if your standards are frighteningly low.”

“Too in sync with each other.”

“We are in precisely enough agreement about you. Now come on, we can set up that spot now and after that, we can all get some rest. Lot of work ahead tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

Setting up the makeshift bed was easy, took almost no time after Stede found spare blankets and Ed helped to set up the spot. It felt familiar, the pile of blankets that were on the wooden floor. After he laid down, he realized, with the help of his spine complaining, the floor was just as hard as the ground outside. He still missed sleeping in his quarters, not that it was all that much more comfortable, but when you sleep in roughly the same situation for long enough, you get used to it, and when you get used to it, you miss it. He didn’t say that, just trusted that the setup was temporary. If they wanted to have sex or any semblance of privacy, they’d help themselves out and set up a spare room like they said they would. Ed and Stede got ready for bed and settled in.

As soon as Izzy could pull a blanket over himself and feign sleep, he did. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary and living alone probably hadn’t eroded all of Edward and Bonnet’s inhibitions and manners, he preemptively ignored any possible sounds from the bed beside him. He tried desperately to forget where he was lying until he took up a bedroom outside of theirs. His luck it’d be a week, if not longer, and he’d never get any real rest again. He’d threaten to sleep outside again if that happened. Or speed up the whole fix shit with Ed and leave.

As he convinced himself to sleep and not think about shit so much, he thought about shit he shouldn’t have thought about.

The seagull had to be full of shit. As far as he’d seen, living hadn’t been easier than dying. There was a hell of a lot more guilt and pain being alive than being dead and having no further life experiences. The seagull wasn’t right about death being harder. This felt pretty fucking bad to be the good choice. No matter what the goddamn bird’s philosophy was, the talk had exhausted him enough that he fell asleep relatively quickly.

Chapter Text

When Izzy woke up after his first night sleeping indoors since it rained, he heard the sound of someone crying.

Hearing the voice of the person who was crying, he knew it was Ed. He could count the number of times he’d seen him cry on one hand, although the number was creeping up lately.

Stede was taking a gentle tone with him, so kind it made his chest hurt. “Sweetheart, you’re alright. Just remember he’s going to be up in a little while, you should relax.”

“Right. Can’t break him again,” Ed mumbled, sniffling a little. “It’s not even bad crying, it’s just— he’s back, he’s here, and I can hear him breathing. Never thought I’d hear it again.”

“I know. Still, breathe and relax, you won’t break him, you’ve got me around this time, and I know you can handle this. It will go just fine. You’ve dealt with far worse than good news,” Stede said.

Ed managed a small laugh at that, and Izzy heard the muffled sound of a hand over fabric. Stede touching his back.

Better at comforting him than I ever was, he thought, misery seeping into his brain again.

“I’m glad you came back,” Ed mumbled.

Izzy stiffened, wondering if he’d been found out, reminded himself that he didn’t have to worry about that anymore and forced himself to settle back in.

Then, Stede laughed. “Tell him that, not me.”

“I meant you. Him too, but I’m glad you didn’t leave and dump me forever. I’m lucky to have you.”

He didn’t even mean it for you. Don’t try to mistake his feelings for you again.

“And I’m lucky to have you, so we’re even.”

Izzy tried to tune them out, but it was too damn quiet. Instead, he tried to feign sleep, let them get a few minutes of peace out of their morning and let Ed stop crying. Eventually he figured he’d taken long enough, he hadn’t gotten more sleep, and they’d think he was unconscious or actually dead, so he got to work putting his prosthetic back on. It got easier to get it on comfortably as the wound healed up and as he did the same practice every morning. Like sharpening a blade or maintaining your boots, you remember the steps if you do it often enough. Or maybe like finding the vital organs with a weapon during a raid and taking the sole of your boot to the victim’s chest and kicking the corpse off your blade. Either way, he was ready to face the day, begrudgingly.

“Oh. Good morning,” Ed said.

He could feel how tense Ed was, even if he looked happy, or neutral, he still looked tense and the feeling bled into Izzy’s body. One of the many side effects of living with him for so long, he could predict his old boss’ feelings better than he could predict his own.

“Morning,” he replied.

Stede smiled. “Oh, good, you’re up too. Did we wake you?”

 

Izzy shook his head. It wasn’t even a lie; he woke up on his own. Ten minutes ago, but still. “Old habits. Can’t sleep late even if I want to anymore.”

Stede nodded. “Right, well, you two want breakfast?”

Izzy shrugged. “Fine with me.”

“We can start setting up your room after,” Ed offered.

Looking at Ed longer, he only sort of looked like he’d been crying, the only sign was that his eyes looked a little puffy. Izzy didn’t say anything about it.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, “I hate to keep imposing on you both like this.”

Stede watched him carefully, like he was trying to crack into his brain and read his mind. It… wasn’t a bad look on him. “You’re not imposing. Its honestly on us we weren’t prepared for somewhat unexpected guests.”

Izzy hissed out a sigh. “I hate being treated like I’m breakable, you know. Stop trying to do that. Don’t apologize, just don’t fucking do it.”

“Got it.”

Izzy nodded, turned and left the room without another word.

He walked all the way outside and sat down on the steps in front of the porch. He still didn’t trust the thing not to collapse under him. Finally, he had some quiet. He was lucky the place was by the sea; he could watch the waves and pretend he was anywhere else and forget that he may have upset Ed again within a day of seeing him face to face again.

After a while, he heard footsteps creaking up behind him. He was set to ignore whichever of the pair had decided to talk to him, until he heard which one he’d gotten stuck next to.

“Ah, there you are. Feeling alright?” Stede asked.

No way out.

Izzy glanced up at him, just as he sat down, as if his split-second look was permission. It was too familiar, but that was Bonnet’s usual way. Act like you understand someone to their bones and guts and then work your way to that level, regardless of it being a good idea.

He did it with damn near everyone, people he didn’t it seemed like he hated them and used his best passive aggressive tactics on. If only he used that approach instead. He found it unnerving.

Izzy could feel him wearing down against the relentless positivity and hopefulness. He could feel his stubbornness waver after seeing him for so long and knowing how good he was for Edward. It wasn’t an exception, seeing him like he was, but it definitely wasn’t going to help in wearing him down.

“Fine. Worried him already?”

Stede grimaced. “A bit. It’s that obvious, since you already figured out why I found you. He’s worried that he’s done something wrong with you, and he sent me here to see if that was true. Breakfast is also ready, but it can wait if you need another moment alone. I don’t suppose you want to talk about what’s going on? I can guess it’s not Ed, is it?”

And of course, the overly familiar way he talked always led to Bonnet guessing at his problems. That or a life lesson. Thank God it wasn’t the latter.

“No. It’s very him to be worried that he’s the one causing a problem, though. Probably my fault if I’m honest. But no, for once, it’s not his fault. It’s a lot seeing him again, and I know I’d be in the way with you two cooking breakfast. Don’t look at me that way, Bonnet, it’s true. Spare me the you’re not a bother talk. I just know when to get the fuck out of the way. It’s also quiet here, and I think he needs time to process me being back like this. Alone, or alone with just you. I’m just tired. If he asks you what’s wrong with me, why I’m acting like this, that’s it. Like most days lately, I’m exhausted and it's not even been an hour since I woke up.” Despite himself, he told more of the truth than he meant to.

Stede nodded, eventually taking to looking at the sea. “Do you miss it?”

“I think anyone would. You chose to come back to the life, dropped it again, but with Ed wanting out, I don’t blame you.”

Stede looked back at him, challenging his point. “I asked if you did. I made my choices; you didn’t have a say in what we did with you after that dickhead shot you in the gut.”

“I do. That answer enough for you?”

“I think so. You can be selfish, you know, full permission given, if you needed it. I just came out here because Ed noticed you left, and breakfast is ready. Again, it can wait, if you need.”

“No, I have to face him somehow. Setting the room up after, right?”

“Mhm. Although I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted more time alone to rest or be with your thoughts.”

“Because I’ll be in your way, fucked up leg and all, that it?” Izzy asked, bitterness seeping into his tone and making Stede grimace.

“No! I’ve seen firsthand you’re exactly as deadly with the prosthetic as you were without. It was an honest offer, I know you like having peace and quiet alone, and this is about as good as you can get without having your own door to close when you need to.”

“You don’t have to be nice to me. I don’t want special treatment.”

“That’s going to be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d treat anyone the way I’m treating you. Well, almost anyone. Anyone I liked.”

“It confuses me every fucking day why you don’t want me dead.”

“I’ll say it as many times as it takes, Izzy. I want you to be safe, and alive, and marginally less worse off than you were when you were on your own because of Ed. He cares about you a lot. I know it’s probably hard to remember that, what with everything that happened between you, but… he’s trying his best to make up for the mistakes he made. Really you and I are lucky that I don’t have anything to apologize for with you outside of sinking to your level a handful of times.”

“And cheating your way out of the duel.”

“Winning the duel,” Stede corrected.

“Technicality,” Izzy grumbled.

Stede pretended he didn’t hear his retort. “So, breakfast?”

“I should try to eat something. If I don’t, you’ll say that’s why I feel like shit.”

Breakfast went fine, so did lunch and dinner.

Before every meal, Izzy slipped out the front door to sit on the steps and watch the sea. Every time he did that, Stede found him and gently coaxed him to come in and eat. He tried to help with cleaning and moving furniture, but found his body a little too frustrating to deal with, plus seeing Ed made his stomach churn. So, he went outside. Stede understood, Ed probably got the gist, conversations relayed after they were over.

Eventually though, after a few days, they’d made headway towards getting all the furniture into his room, as they referred to it, and Stede found him outside again.

“Room’s almost done. Should be set up by tonight. Since you’ve been out here most of the days, we can help you reconfigure the furniture if you’d like, when you see the finished product.”

Izzy watched him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Great. You don’t have to be nice.”

“I’m as stubborn as you, and happy to be more stubborn. So please, come inside, eat dinner, then check the room out and make sure it’s set up how you want.”

“Fine,” Izzy agreed, hauling himself to his feet.

Stede then did something unexpected. Just before he opened the door, he turned and faced Izzy again, with a weird look on his face. “You know, sometimes it helps to say when something feels off.”

“Not when it’s him. Not anymore.”

“Maybe we can discuss that particular fear of yours over dinner?”

“While I continue to fuck up your lives and not help you two get things done.”

“You’re not fucking anything up. You’ve had a lot of really hard years in a row, which only got worse lately. You can relax. I promise you that you can. You’ll live plenty more days if you relax for just a few.”

“Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like I’m wasting my time here. I know I’m not, I want to fix this shit with Edward, but it’s taking me longer to feel like myself than I thought it would.”

“I’m not exactly the person who needs to hear that, but that sounds fair. You’ve been through a lot. He has too, maybe you should ask him to meet you where you’re at.”

“You think he would? You think he’s willing to deal with me that way?”

“I know he would. He’s desperate to fix things, so let him talk to you.”

“And you’re positive he won’t be furious with me still?”

“Of course he’s not. He’ll be thrilled you’re being vulnerable.”

“Sure, he would.”

Bonnet wasn’t going to be right about dinner being a perfect time to bring up his issues.

Izzy was on edge the entire time, not so much that Ed noticed, although he was focused on his food and his boyfriend sneakily getting his hands on him.

Until Bonnet got up and inadvertently left them alone, anyway.

“Iz, you’ve been quiet. More than usual, anyway. What’s wrong?”


Izzy took a slow breath. It was not going to feel better to say out loud that things felt weird and have felt weird since Edward miraculously survived the mutiny, even before that if he was being honest. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Ed said flatly.

“I don’t feel like getting into it right now.”

“Yeah,” Ed muttered, “should’ve known that from the jump. Sorry.”

Izzy scoffed. This kind of shit was what he didn’t want to have happen. He was already inches from jumping out of his skin, and it didn’t help being alone with the man who’d partially caused the damage. “Don’t be. Fuckin’ pointless. You and I both know what happened, there’s no point in apologizing or hashing it out.”

“Will you tell me when you’re ready to talk about it, at least? I want to know if something I’m doing is upsetting you like that.”

Izzy’s heart sank again. He balled one hand into a fist under the table to keep himself steady, focusing on the sensation of his nails digging into his palm.

He used to be better with pain.

“Yeah,” he answered finally.

“Good. I want to hear your thoughts. Especially if they’re about what happened. Seriously, I want to know.”

Right. What happened. When Izzy fucked up his brain so badly it took months to recover, and Izzy still wasn’t over the damage he helped cause. His jaw tightened and he felt his heart racing, felt like it was in his ears it was so fucking loud.

And then, as if he’d never left the Revenge at all, he was right back to when he got shot in the leg. When his boss held a gun to their heads and then his own and asked their thoughts on the shit that was happening, under the guise of talking it though—because Izzy had the nerve to quote the ex-boyfriend of a heartbroken, wrathful man—eventually settling on turning the weapon on Izzy and firing.

All for having the guts to say when something was fucked beyond repair.

Years of devotion used to prove a point.

He acted like he was dead when he was bleeding on the deck, already replacing him.

“Iz?”

Izzy didn’t reply, he just kept sitting there, eaten alive by his thoughts and consumed by adrenaline.

Say something. Fucks sake. A yes works. One fucking word out of you for him.

“Izzy? You with us?” His tone was more worried than anything anymore. That was worse than him sounding tense.

Talking might help, Bonnet had said.

Fuck his advice.

He couldn’t get his heart to stop racing and why? Because Edward sounded tense around him? because that dredged up the idea of him trying to kill him?

Pathetic.

When he wrenched his gaze up from the grain of the wood on the table, he saw that Ed looked pale. Izzy looked back down, consumed by guilt over true fear, and heard him get up and walk behind him. He went stiff as he felt Ed’s hand brush his shoulder, holding his breath like he was going to hurt him.

“Shit. What the hell happened with you, man?” He winced and dropped his hand when he felt how tense Izzy was. “Right. Back in a sec, okay?” he asked, not waiting for Izzy answer before slipping into the kitchen where a Bonnet was, probably having heard the ordeal and had a guess as to what the fuck happened even better than Izzy did and just dying to prove it and solve the problem like a puzzle.

Izzy heard them talking quietly, just barely making out his own name and Stede gently reassuring Ed. The phrase can’t help him by myself right now came through, as Izzy’s nails dug into his palms even more deeply while he tried not to listen, feeling certain that they were talking about how weak he’d gotten since he fucked up their happy lives for the hundredth time. Then, Stede was behind him, Ed had all but ran into their bedroom, and then there was a gentle pressure on his shoulder. Stede touching him, and less unsure of the contact than Ed was, for good reason.

One of the two of them had never tried to hurt him in any tangible ways.

The contact made him flinch, but Bonnet left his hand there, trying to be a comforting presence without scaring him, no doubt.

“Breathe for me, would you? Slowly. In and out, try to focus on that,” he said, keeping his tone even.

Against all odds, despite how during any other time he’d shrug his hand off and say to never touch him unless he wanted to lose his fingers, he let him stand behind him, touching him, offering his advice.

It helped that Izzy could still take orders from anyone with a semblance of rank over him that eh respected even slightly and had for decades. No matter how fucking stupid Edward got, he took his orders with the right tone. He followed the instructions automatically, feeling his body relax slightly, his tension unspooling. He felt himself slump over slightly, like the tension was holding his spine straight.

“You’re alright,” Stede continued, “I’m the only one in here with you right now, Ed went to our room, because he figures he’s what brought that on you. I’d wager he was right, but that it wasn’t exactly his fault. I’ll sort him out as soon as you’re relaxed and talking again, but don’t let that make you fake it until it gets worse and break down in private later. The only thing that’ll help is trying to calm down right now.  I won’t belittle you for this, or anything else you think you’re doing wrong.” Stede dropped his hand from his shoulder. “Sorry, I forgot you hate being touched. I can really tell you don’t feel like yourself because you didn’t tell me to stop touching you. I don’t think I made it worse, though, even if you didn’t tell me to stop like you usually would. Do you feel better?”

Izzy looked up at him, feeling stupid. “I know he won’t hurt me.”

“I know you do.”

“So why the fuck did I do that?” Izzy asked, for the first time in a while wanting Stede’s insight on the situation.

Stede pulled a chair out and sat by him. “My guess is it came out of the way he terrorized you and half the members of the crew of the Revenge for about six months, culminating in a mutiny and a murder attempt that went overall pretty damn well, minus the killing part, although you all did admirably with the attempt, I think he really was dead for a bit there. Nonetheless, you survived that. You know how everyone else was tense around him, especially after he was un-banished.”

 
“I should be better by now, though,” Izzy muttered. “I spent decades knowing who he was and how he acted, nearly better than he knew himself, and just now he asked me a simple question, and… that fucking happened. None of them fucking froze so why, for fuck’s sake, was it me?”

“Some things don’t make sense.”

“That’s your advice?”

“No. I think this particular situation makes sense. It’s hard to make amends for attempted murder. It isn’t even easy to make amends for getting kidnapped and then scared and seeming like you’ve broken up with someone who you were trying to protect. Also, everyone takes stress in different ways.”

Izzy frowned. “You can't stand to not be the example.”

“All I've got are my own examples. Really, Ed shot you and left you for dead, plus the other things you, and him, and the crew have told me about that he did. I’d be amazed if you could be alone around him and relaxed.”

Izzy kept watching him, trying to find any semblance of insincerity in his eyes. “How long until you realize you can’t fix damaged goods?”

“Not as long as I’ll wait for you to realize you’re not broken, just in need of some rest and time to think things over. I didn’t mean to leave you alone with him, by the way. Just happened, and then I thought it was going alright, until Ed told me what happened with you.”

“While I keep you away from your boyfriend so you can make sure I’m not going to get hurt.”

“I can assure you he isn’t jealous of you taking up a tiny amount of time, and I can handle him on my own. I’d like to think I've done an admirable job of it so far. Honestly, he and I both thought that was part of why you stayed outside when we were setting up your room. He thought you’d be a little nervous around him, for good reason. He understands what happened between you two perfectly well. It’s you I’m worried doesn’t understand that it’s not your fault that you panicked. It’s a normal reaction, and he won’t take it personally. I’m going to remind him of the same thing, that it isn’t his fault that you panicked in front of him. It’s a good reason to keep me around, I’m good at fixing this sort of miscommunication.” He grinned, trying for self-deprecation.

Izzy ignored it. “And he loves you.”

“That too. So, feeling like yourself? You’ve given me a couple of smartass retorts, I think you’re feeling at least slightly better.”

Izzy shrugged. “As much as I’m going to today. I’m going to bed.”

Stede watched him stand up and start towards his room. “Alright. See you in the morning.”

“As if I've got better places to be, Bonnet,” he replied over his shoulder.

***

Stede felt, to his own surprise, pretty alright with how he handled Izzy’s situation. He felt like he was getting better at it, thankfully, since he was the only person around who knew enough about what happened to sympathize but wasn’t Ed, who was there and was the one who hurt him.

Although, you’d never be able to tell that was what happened, with how his boyfriend was sitting on their bed, curled up as much as he could, looking absolutely miserable. Stede sighed sympathetically, as Ed noticed him and looked even guiltier than he had in the kitchen while he relayed what happened, even if he’d heard most of it.

“…Is he okay?” Ed asked, just as Stede sat beside him, wrapping an arm around him. His fingertips met a bit of softness at his hip that he’d felt before, but it still felt new. The changes in his body made it feel like something really did change in his boyfriend, even if Izzy’s brain hadn’t caught up yet.

“He’ll be alright. He’s probably half asleep by now.”

“I’d like it more if you just said yeah, he’s doing fine.”

“He is, darling. He’s doing fine considering his circumstances.”

“The ones that were me scaring the shit out of him. Yeah, that’s not helpful.”

“I hate to lie to you, though. Really, he’s going to be himself again, just not quite on your schedule. He doesn’t usually do what you want him to do, does he?”

“I get your point. Doesn’t mean I don’t feel awful about it.”

“Still, don’t. Because he is still here, of his own free will. You can feel bad about what happens when he’s disappeared in the morning without leaving so much as a note.”

The guilty expression deepened, Ed’s eyes shiny with emotion. “Don’t act like it’s possible.”

Stede took his arm off his waist, took his hand instead and squeezed. “How many times has he threatened to leave?”

“Too many to keep track of,” Ed answered.

“Exactly. And how many times after that has he come back?”

“He’s never left that long. Couple days at most, usually acting like nothing happened afterward.”

“Exactly. So, I’ll spare you the obvious next question.” They both knew that if Izzy left, he’d go to one place, and he didn’t seem ready to go back to the crew, regardless of their response to his situation. They (most of them, at least) would react fine, it was more of an Izzy issue than a them issue. Some superstitions about the dead and vengeful ghosts aside, of course.

“Thanks. I don’t think I deserve you.”

“You do. You deserve a lot of things, so does Izzy. That’s why he’s getting peace and quiet for now, and you get to sit with me, and we can sort your emotions out. I’m absolutely positive he won’t leave just because of what happened,”

“But that’s the problem. Izzy never leaves when he should. Then, when he does leave, he comes back. He shouldn’t do that shit. I’ve seen how he acts, he does shit that’s awful for his health and then he suffers and doesn’t fix the fucking problem. This time, it’s me. He won’t leave because he’s… who fucking knows what he is. It’s something to do with me, I know, but I don’t know why he wanted to stay. I’d never let my fucking dad apologize.”

“The kraken killed him, though, love. He can’t exactly make amends, and from what I heard of the man, he’d never think about making amends and never hit the point where he understood he was the problem. You are twice the man he ever was, and I will remind you of that as often as you need me to until you believe me. The crew let you come back for a reason.”

Ed scoffed. “To try and drown me, maybe. Or because you had to beg them to, promising I wouldn’t kill them. They didn’t forgive me, Stede, not really. I don’t want Izzy to forgive me, I don’t know why he wants to be friends again. Is there something I’m missing?”

“I think,” Stede started, tone as relaxed as he could make it, “that he wanted to help you when it started, and now he knows that wasn’t the right choice to make at the time, because his method of helping was flawed. I also think that when you see or hear that you’ve ruined someone’s life, or you interpret their actions as being self-destructive, depending on how you saw that person before the ruining happened, you want to fix it, in any way you can. You lashed out at him, and then he realized he made a mistake, so he tried to fix things, it backfired, then I reappeared, and then he got shot in the gut, and then he came back and wasn’t ready to face you again because he didn’t know how you’d take it, given what happened. He said he was done, but he wasn’t. He trusted your heart with me, and I think he knows he made a good choice in trusting me, but he’s still nervous about what happened. He blamed himself for all of it, despite it being a group fuckup, and that honestly it was a primed explosive that went off because a lot of things broke badly. You know why he didn’t want to see you when I caught him?”

Ed looked at him warily, frowning. “Why?”

“He thought you wouldn’t want him around, knowing how you were the last time you were around him. He thought his mistakes were permanent. He was really vulnerable with me, by his standards. I think what he’s doing now is similar to what I did when that dick of a bully said I ruined your life. I removed myself from being around you thinking it was for the better. I got scared, so I ran. I also saw a man get his brains spattered into the ground, to be fair, incredibly gruesome and just plain gross, but the point is that he panicked, was reminded that he made mistakes, and is trying to atone for that, in his own way.”

“So, I scared him. I knew that already. I’ve been scaring almost everyone for decades; I know what fear looks like.”

“Then can you give him time and not think it’s on purpose? I can promise you that he doesn’t mean to hurt you with what he’s doing. If I’m right, anyway, and I think I am. He spent so much time and effort trying to mold you into what he thought you should be, that he feels absolutely awful about how you act now, that you’re different than his idea of you. I think he likes the man Ed is and is terrified that if he comes back, so will Blackbeard. I also think someone here had that exact same fear a few months ago.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s why I’m thinking we give him the opportunity to realize he won’t break you back into the person you were when he got hurt. I know I was nervous up until you forgave me that my panic broke you irreparably, but I wanted to try still. I think he wants to try too, in his own way.”

“Sure. You think he’d believe it if you told him you weren’t mad at him?”

“I can certainly try. He may be stubborn, but I am stubborn and patient. I would have waited for you to realize I wasn’t going anywhere. I think we both can wait for him to realize we don’t want to hurt him.”

“Y’know he’s not a bird with a fucked up wing, right?”

“I’m very aware. He’s a very strong-willed man, I think he’d make himself better by sheer force of will if he had to.”

“He would. He’s not good at relaxing. I wish I could help more, except when I tried to, I fucked up.

“How do you figure that?”

Ed gave him a look. “I dunno. Maybe the way he froze up and I’ve never seen him do that except when I scared the shit out of him. I got used to scaring everyone else, but I’ve never scared Iz before. Until I thought you dumped me, and I did it again without even meaning to. How do you fix that? How the fuck am I supposed to not scare him again?”

“Give him time.”

“I know what giving him time does to him. He’s not patient with anyone, much less himself. Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Keep an eye on him for me? He’s gonna get stuck in his head and then probably lash out at you after a while. I would, but I can tell you’re gonna do a better job than I ever could with him.”

“Can, maybe rather should, I tell him that you asked?”

“Shouldn’t. Besides, you’ve already been making sure he’s alright. He’s asked if I was worried about him too, so he’s gonna know why you’re keeping an eye on him. If you lied, he’d try to kill you, whether you’ve bonded with him or not.”

“Right. Don’t call it a favor, though, because I’d do it anyway. He deserves to realize he’s going to be treated decently by us both, and that no one’s mad at him. So, now that you’re settled about what happened, do you want to split some dessert? Might make you feel better,” he added.

“It might, but I don’t think I’m up for it. After what happened I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“That’s absolutely fair. Just know that I won’t be letting you skip out on breakfast. I know you’ll be hungry then.”

“Of course, Captain,” he answered. “Wouldn’t dare ignore an order like that.”

Stede grinned. “Damn right.”

Chapter Text

Sleeping never fixed a damn thing. Izzy knew that and still he thought that maybe if he just slept, he’d forget what happened with Ed.

He didn’t forget a damn thing when he woke up, of course, but he thought that maybe if he tried harder, it would happen. So, he rolled over where the sun couldn’t get in his eyes, and he willed himself to sleep as long as he could.

Some hours later, he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t want it to be Ed, so he stayed still, willing him to leave, feigning sleep. Another knock came after a few more hours in the evening, giving him plenty of time to stew over his feelings and hate himself for things he should’ve been able to control.

A familiar voice came from the other side of the door, luckily, not the one he’d been dreading the sound of.

“Izzy? You alright?”

Bonnet. Thank fuck, he realized, bile creeping up his throat, making him feel worse within the relief.

“I just want to talk. One on one, Ed’s in our room.” Stede added, trying his damndest to sweeten the deal enough to not have to go in uninvited.

“Fine,” Izzy said, giving in, and forcing himself to walk to the door. He’d given up on sleeping after the original knock woke him up, alternating between sitting at the desk or on the bed. He’d also given up on the comfort of leaving his leg off to sleep. Izzy had slept most of the day and it was starting to give him a headache. It was that or the fact he hadn’t eaten since yesterday.

When Izzy was finally standing in front of Stede, the infuriating man was smiling brightly. “See? All alone. I thought it would help, not that Ed insisted that he should help considering what happened, but the sentiment is still there. I knocked earlier but I assume you were ignoring me.”

Izzy frowned. “Though you were him, and I was sleeping for a while.”

The smile dimmed considerably, the severity hitting him and lessening his (probably feigned) enthusiasm. “You really must not feel well, I can’t imagine you of all people sleeping that long. Anyway, I came back to pester you again because you haven’t eaten.”

Izzy blinked. “How did you know I didn’t eat?”

“That’s how. Along with the fact that I haven’t heard any noise from your room all day and the fact that there’s no dishes from food you could have taken. You so graciously admitting to avoiding food today helped, though.”

Izzy groaned. “Course it did. Bastard.”

“You have to eat at least something today, and I’ll happily take whatever insults you can come up with if it means you’ll eat. I assumed that dinner with us both was out of the question, so I’m going to sit with you and make sure you’re not going hungry.”

Izzy frowned, studying his face, waiting for his expression to betray his feelings, but it didn’t.

“Not because I won’t just eat on my own?”

“I know you would, it’s a question of when. Back in a moment, if you’d get the door again if you aren’t ready to leave it open?”

“Fine,” Izzy agreed.

As soon as he could look at the hallway, not even in view of their bedroom, Izzy’s heart raced. He quickly closed the door.

Add coward to the fucking list of things wrong with my brain these days.

Bonnet returned in a couple of minutes, right on time with Izzy finally thinking that maybe he could have peace. He heard him attempt to knock, with his hands full and Izzy got the door again.

“Didn’t want it open, then. Fair choice, but you should know he wasn’t anywhere nearby.”

Izzy eyed the tray, with two plates on it. “Sure. Eating with me?”

“Yes,” Stede answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why?”

“Easier conversation.  Also, I haven’t had dinner yet. I thought Ed probably could stand an evening alone, without me glued to his side, too, and here I am, with our dinner. And I can make sure you’ll eat, even if I’m pretty sure you won’t try to go hungry again, even with the circumstances.”

Begrudgingly, to shut the infuriating man up, Izzy nodded. “You can take the desk,” he said, taking his plate and fork and sitting on the bed.

Stede sat down, angling himself by the table and still facing Izzy. “I thought having somewhere to sit would come in handy for you.” He glanced at the bare wall and grimaced. “You know, we can help decorate, if you’d like. I never saw your quarters on the ship, but I suspect it was about this bare. Even so it may help, if you had things to look at besides the walls. The room doesn’t have to be as depressing as you seem to feel.”

“It’s fine. Can we get this over with?”

Stede nodded once, and focused on his dinner, letting him have at least some peace and quiet.

Izzy, however, eyed up the plate grimly, feeling nauseated by the idea of eating anything. The food looked good, although he hadn’t eaten since yesterday, so anything would look at least edible.

“Scowling at the food won’t make it get eaten any faster,” Stede chided from the desk.

“You had kids, before you did this shit, didn’t you?” He said it on impulse, as if he didn’t know not to ask stupid questions to Bonnet of all people. The thought made some things click into place, honestly. It was too parental for him to be an uncle to the kids of his siblings or younger cousins, if he had any, they had to be his own, if there were any and this wasn’t just him being fucking weird.

Stede winced. “I… did. The worst thing my father did was not leave soon enough, and I still managed to linger too long, probably making their lives more of a living hell than ever. Your point?”

His voice sharpened at the end; he sounded hurt by what he thought Izzy was about to say.

Honestly, Izzy was taken back a few decades.

Before he ran away from home to avoid being stuck into his lot in life, he got a few lectures about various things his parents were trying to teach him, back when he was capable of learning new things and changing his shitty behavior. It made his stomach churn, to hear Stede Bonnet of all people act like that with him, downright kind, if patronizing. That wasn’t Stede’s problem with him asking, though, and judging by the fact Izzy didn’t know for sure if he did have kids, that was why he went on the defensive. If he did, he either abandoned them when he ran away from home, or they were dead. Izzy was assuming it was the former and wasn’t about to ask. He didn’t want to fight him and only asked because of his own sentimentality that he wasn’t going to admit to.

 “Nothing. Doesn’t matter if you did or not at this point. I’ll eat regardless, I don’t need the lecture. I’ve given it often enough to remember the main points.” He also wasn’t about to dig up the man’s past, he knew the broad strokes and that he wasn’t exactly thrilled with his life before he left to be a pirate and then an innkeeper. It seemed like that kind of life didn’t suit him, and since he wasn’t forthcoming with details, Izzy wasn’t about to ask. He knew he’d end up irritated by him talking about how he lived before piracy, hating his old life or not.

“I’ll spare you, then, except for one part of it, you shouldn’t avoid eating just because you think he’s mad at you. He doesn’t care about anything but you being safe at this point. If you feel alright to talk to him about it later, you can hear him say it outright.”

“That’s not what I’m thinking. I’m thinking the last time I didn’t love the situation I was in, I fucked it up so badly, this had to be done.” He pointed at the prosthetic leg. “Not really helping my appetite.”

“You can’t fuck it up like that again, I promise.”

“What, you took all his weapons at the door before your honeymoon?” Izzy asked flatly. He had a leg left after shit went down, plus the remaining limb above his knee, made for plenty of limbs to remove in a fit of misplaced rage still. As far as he was concerned, it could happen again, he was good at fucking things up and getting hurt for trying to fix his fuckups.

“No. He left his own at the ship, save for a few knives, in case of intruders. He never wants to fuck things up for you again. He felt awful for what happened to you, him acting out in heartbreak and you taking the blame for it. It was only partly on you, calling the navy and threatening everyone’s lives, not quite realizing just how much Ed cared about me of all people. I don’t blame you for it. My bullies were vindictive as all hell, they’d find me no matter what I did even before I was a pirate and pissed them off like I did. It’s not on you that I got scared either, like how what happened last night isn’t your fault. Anyway, please, eat.”

Izzy didn’t reply, he just watched him sitting silently, awkwardly sitting at an angle in the chair to both eat and make a semblance of conversation. The awkwardness of it all only brought out the fact that he had no real purpose to sitting there. It stuck him, unpleasant as a blow to the head, that Bonnet was a presence in the room.

Being alone for the day made the space feel twice as bleak as it looked. He didn’t feel the urge to make it his own, hadn’t in years, but Bonnet bringing it up made it feel more depressing than practical.

All it did, besides make him feel awkward about the space and how empty it felt, was confuse him about why the fuck he was sitting there eating dinner with him and forcing conversation. Izzy fucked up his life, and made him realize that a monster lurked under Edward’s skin. But he didn’t act like that happened.

Hell, he acted like they were almost friends.

Even if he wasn’t, because Izzy was positive they weren’t, a man who held a grudge about what happened wouldn’t sit there, much less eat, near the man who tried to get him executed. He was there to make sure he’d eat, sure, but he could see if he would leave an empty plate outside, he didn’t have to do what he was doing—or trying to do anyway.

Izzy had loosened up lately, sure, but… Bonnet hadn’t seen the walls crack, he had no idea what happened, outside of generously broad strokes and the occasional yelling matches about the specifics of the horrors they’d endured, based on the odd hang-ups people had, including the new neuroses that Izzy carried.

“You don’t have to stay,” Izzy eventually said. He was offering him peace and quiet, if he wanted it, to let Izzy stay until he got hungry enough to steal and risk his apparent fear of being alone with the man who’d taken his daily peace away from him.

Stede smiled. “I do have some social skills, you know. It doesn’t always go in my favor, but I do know how to take my leave gracefully. I also know how to tell when an argument isn’t in earnest. To make a guess what you’re thinking, just because you hate when I do that, I think you’re misunderstanding the point that I’m trying to make by sitting with you and eating dinner. I don’t pity you, outside the context of you being stuck in this room to avoid being terrified of my boyfriend. I know it can’t be pleasant, being scared of him like that, with how you felt—still feel, maybe—about him. And, so far, you don’t seem very enthusiastic about eating. So, I’m happy to wear out your patience. I’ve heard I’m very persistent and I’m happy to keep trying to wear you down enough that you’ll talk.”

The way I feel about him? Right. Too complicated of a tangle to undo without a hell of a lot more time than I have.

“Sure,” Izzy replied, aiming to at least pick at his dinner but after taking one bite, realized that Bonnet, as usual, was right. He was absolutely starving.

“There you go. Might make you feel better just getting some food in you, you know,” Stede said.

Sure it would, and Edward wouldn’t take this shit personally, Izzy thought bitterly.

At least the food was still good.

“Just to say it again, in case you’ve forgotten since I said it the last time, there is absolutely no need to ration food on land, it’s a short walk to town to get food, so don’t think you have to go hungry, it’s not a noble act. You skipped breakfast and lunch today and I’m not going to have you starve to death on my or Ed’s watch.”

“Course,” he mumbled.

“I can assume you’re not feeling great right now, with how you slept in for maybe the first time in your life if not since I met you, and you’re avoiding seeing Ed and me both. But I’d rather hear from you, if you’re willing, and the truth, if you’d rather me not outright hound you for the information which I could do. I’m going to start with politeness. How are you holding up?”

Izzy scoffed, talking another bite of food and swallowing, lengthening the silence to make a point. “How do you think I’m doing?”

Stede sighed. “Right. Can we maybe have a slightly less one-sided conversation? I can fill silence, but I know you hate it when I do that, and this is more for your benefit than mine.”

“No.”

Stede sighed and looked at Izzy. “Israel, I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

Izzy swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze and focusing on his food, or at least trying to. The food made for a decent buffer at least, the one good thing from the day he’d been having. His tone was familiar. Too fucking familiar.

It was the exact way he’d snap at Ed, after he ran through his already short temper with him, when he’d finally say something harsher than he needed to just to get the words into his thick fucking skull.

Always because he cared about him, wanted him to eat or stop being miserable, whatever he had to do to stop his boss from self-destructing any more than he was.

That wasn’t—couldn’t be Bonnet’s aim.

Right ?

Probably.

…Maybe.

It was pointless to even try to figure it out.

Izzy was utterly baffled yet again by the simplest shit that Stede said. There was one way out of that problem.

“What the fuck are you trying at with me?” he asked, out of options that didn’t make his stomach churn.

Stede blinked. “What do you mean?”

That was fucking normal to him?

“I meant what I just said, you can’t possibly be that much of an idiot. Your tone. It sounded like—” Izzy growled irritably “—never mind. I’ll talk. I've been trying my fucking best to figure it all out, with Edward, piecing together the fact he won’t hurt me again with the rest of my brain. It’s been what I’ve been trying to do ever since he came back from us trying to kill him, and since I came back from getting shot. I don’t think you can help.”

Stede made a face, like he knew something that Izzy didn’t. “Really? I think someone has a selective memory. I think I can help you. It’s a matter of you wanting my help and accepting it. Can I be honest with you for a moment?” He paused, just briefly, realizing Izzy’s answer wouldn’t help. “Frankly, I don’t think you sitting here and waiting for your brain to catch up is going to work, at least not very quickly, and I know you’re not the most patient man. There’s one way that’ll help you figure things out, and you won’t like it. You’re going to have to talk to someone about it, sort out those pesky feelings that you hate so much, and do whatever it is that you really want.”

“Of course. And I have to talk to you?”

“Seems like it.”

“About how I feel?” he asked, his mouth twisting into an uncomfortable grimace.

“About Ed, among other things, yes. We’re learning. I’d say I was proud of you, but—”

“I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”

Stede smiled tightly at the sentiment. “Exactly.”

“Is this your idea of fun?”

“Sitting here and wrestling any conversation out of someone who feels neutrally about me, still edging towards hating me? Absolutely not, this isn’t fun for me either. Still, I’m hellbent on helping you. What do you think it would take for you to trust him again?”

“Turning the clock back at least a decade.”

“More doable, please. I’m trying to help, so it would be nice if you’d let me do that.”

“Fucked if I know.”

“Then maybe you could tell me why you’re scared of him now. What do you think happened when you froze like that? I have my ideas, but I want your thoughts too. It may help me think of ways to reacclimate you to being around him without going through this again.”

Izzy swallowed. He knew Stede wasn’t about to like what he was going to say. He brought it on himself, though. “When he got bad, I couldn’t get near him without getting snapped at. I know he won’t now, but half the times I went into his quarters, he threw empty bottles at my head, so I’d fuck off, or he’d threaten me, or he did worse than just aim towards me with his anger. He did what he wanted; damage be damned. I used to like that about him. Then he got tired of acting like that and I wanted to fix him back to the way he was. I got what I wanted, and what I got out of it when it realized it wasn’t what I wanted, was mutilated. Yesterday, he asked about shit, and I was already jumping out of my skin, and then that happened. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking he’d do it again, even if you were right there, and he started sounding scared and fuck, I hadn’t heard him sound scared in years, so it made it worse. If I see him again, I don’t know how my brain will take it. That’s why I’m not eager to go out and see him again.”

“You know it was a perfectly normal reaction, from both of you, not him hurting you, but you both sounding terrified of the other getting hurt just by being alone with the other.”

“And?”

“There’s one answer to helping you through that. You won’t like it.”

Izzy took a long, slow breath. “What is it?”

“Seeing him again. Maybe starting slowly, or having me around again, without me leaving you two alone around the other, but I don’t think you can avoid him forever if you still want to sort things out between the two you.”

“Right. And I’m meant to not think he’ll snap because I’m there and I was the common link of his brain rotting?”

“Eventually, yes.”

“By seeing him,” Izzy said flatly.

“Yes.”

“And It hasn’t crossed your very, very logical brain that it would be a hell of a lot easier if you’d just let me rot?”

“A certain seagull has his own thoughts on that, for starters.”

“it’s not about him. It’s about you, and the absolute fact that if you keep talking to me, you’re going to find out that I’m not nice, not pleasant like Ed can be. There’s no layer to me that’s good, no matter how hard you try and how deep you dig. I’m not good. This whole thing you’ve got going with him, the peaceful life out here, I could ruin it for you. Doesn’t that scare you?”

Stede smiled and looked at him in an unnervingly piercing way. “How would you do it? How would you find it in yourself, fundamentally evil or no, to say to… God knows who, whoever of the English Navy are left, maybe, that Blackbeard is… living in a run-down inn around… oh, the middle of nowhere? In most places, they’d laugh you out of the room, no offense to you specifically, they’d do it to anyone. We managed to fake our deaths, more or less. I personally wouldn’t go after the pirates who were very much blown up when the republic was taken out, then with the Navy taking over, I’d be decently assured that the worse ones died or had gone deep into hiding for at least a few months, if not longer. The power of fear is a hell of a thing, and they blew up the one place pirates had some amount of security. Besides, one pirate we knew personally did die in the aftermath, regardless of his current status, so, why not two more? Besides the various ways we’d never be hunted down, you wouldn’t dream of selling us out again. Too loyal, despite those assumed flaws in your psyche. And don’t lie to yourself and think you would, you know you wouldn’t, because you care a hell of a lot about the crew of the Revenge, and if Ed and I got captured, one we’d be executed, but two, we’d almost certainly get tortured into telling them where the others were if we knew.”

Izzy sighed. His reasoning wasn’t bad, it was quiet minus the Revenge docking for a day, and it seemed like they weren’t going to come back for a while. And it was true that he wouldn’t try to fuck up their lives without them asking for him to. Besides, with Ed’s luck, he’d find a way out of it, because he always did. “Fair enough. Can’t change your mind.”

“No, you can't. So, are you agreeing to eventually see Ed again? If you’re really uncomfortable with it, we’ve still got the bell collar,” he suggested, too cheerful for Izzy’s taste.

Izzy blanched, snapped out of his grim thoughts for a split second. “You two kept that thing?”

“Yes.”

“Of course you did. That won’t help. It’s not that I think he’ll sneak up on me. It’s that I don’t know what I’ll do to him if I stay here.”

“I think he’s plenty capable of telling you to fuck off now.”

“Sure, he is.”

“He is. You’re allowed to just be Izzy. You don’t have to be useful or wonder if you’re ruining anything by living or being a bother. You’ll be alright here, especially if no one but Ed and I know you’re alive and… mostly well.”

“Right. You can’t sit there and think you can teach an old dog new tricks just because you don’t know me like he does.”

“It’s not just your fault that everything happened. Someone accidentally abandoned him, thinking he ruined a notorious pirate’s life. Arguably that someone did, considering the fact he’s left piracy now, but that was something he wanted. I don’t think even you could force that man to do a thing he didn’t want to do. A part of him wanted to self-destruct after he was abandoned. Honestly, after I found him, after he was conscious again and furious with me, I sort of thought he wouldn’t forgive me.”

“And what? I don’t want him to forgive me. I don’t want his apologies, what’s done is done, I argued with him for years that he should sit down and be a real pirate again, bored or not, and when he finally got back into it, he got so into it he nearly killed me a half dozen ways. I don’t need the chance to fix things.”

“So… leave. If you want to leave, you can. Go out to sea, forge an identity of your own, whatever the hell you feel like. Enjoy the freedom.”

“I don’t want that.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To sort my fucking traitor of a brain out, figure out that Edward is fine without me, and that he probably has been for—”

“No.”

“No?”

“Reword the last thing you said.”

“Why?”

“Humor me.”

Izzy sighed. “Ideally, I fix my shit with Ed, figure out that he’s not hurt anyone since you came back and you both retired, and then, provided I don’t die of old age, boredom or both in the process, I figure out how to live on my own, live out my days doing God knows what.”

“Much better. You’ll be alright, given time. Even if it’s by force, because I know you’d reach that point sooner than anyone I’ve met before. So, tired of the conversation yet?”

He’d devoured his dinner while they talked. Izzy realized he’d been just talking for a while, without food as a buffer to make the conversation go smoothly, or at least slow down a little.

“I can’t believe you haven’t gotten tired of me before I got annoyed enough to make you leave,” Izzy said.

“I’m not that far gone. I can make conversation with you still. It’s just a matter of your patience hitting its limit. I take it you’re finished?”

Izzy nodded, standing and handing him the empty plate.

“I’ll bring you breakfast in the morning, alright?”

“Enjoy the time with your boyfriend.”

Stede smiled and left, gently shutting the door behind him.

When Stede went back to their room after dropping off the dishes from dinner, he saw Ed was practically wearing a path into the floor with his pacing.

When he heard the door shut and Stede sigh, he snapped to attention.

“How’d it go?” he asked, voice quiet.

“You can sit, and look less worried, you didn’t break him.”

Ed sat on the bed and crossed his arms. “Didn’t break him again, you mean.”

Stede sat next to him and sighed, knowing he was losing the argument, and Ed was right, at least somewhat. Sugarcoating wasn’t going to get him anywhere with either of the men he was living with, especially not his boyfriend. “Fair enough, but still, he ate dinner, apparently he slept almost the whole day.”

“That just means I broke him. Again.”

“So, maybe you did, a little, but it’s not completely on you that he was avoiding y—point already taken.” he stopped, seeing Ed’s pained look and started over even more gently. “It was mainly an Izzy’s brain issue than what happened when you were just talking to him. It’s maybe a little your fault, because of what happened when I was away.”

Ed sighed. “Fuckin’ told you.”

“And I told you that I’d get him to eat if it meant getting my throat ripped out. And here I am, in one piece. Food works wonders for you both, you know that?” Stede let himself smile and nudged his shoulder in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

“Bet it does. He’s probably got the same shit as I do about it. He’s not gonna just take breakfast in the morning. He does this thing where he punishes himself sometimes, probably got it from me, doesn’t like eating if he doesn’t feel well.”

“I have a plan for that, so, enough about him, I’ve got it sorted out for now and I’ll tell you if it stops being that way. How are you holding up?”

“Fine.”

“You’re sure? I just left a very stubborn man after peer pressuring him to eat dinner, I have so much patience left in me to make sure you ate enough too.”

“I did.”

He knew he did, he’d seen the dishes from his dinner alone, he just wanted him to say it. “Room for dessert?”

“One thing first.”

“What’s that?”

“Not that it’s a favor that needs repaying, but I want to repay you for trying to unfuck Izzy’s brain, and dealing with me, even though you kind of signed up for dealing with me.”

Stede smiled, feeling the tension between them ease, even if the tenseness wasn’t exactly aimed at him. “How do you mean to do that?”

Ed answered by leaning close and kissing him, pushing himself into his boyfriend’s lap and letting his weight press into his body. When he pulled away from him, he was grinning wolfishly, Stede smiled back. 

“Not that this isn’t fun, if you keep going with me, you’re not getting me up for dessert.”

The look of a predator gave way to glittering doe eyes. “I can’t help being insatiable.”

“Of course you want both. Alright, have to have some order to things, right? I think I know what you’re after, so I’ll be right back.”

“You’re the best.”

“All’s fair in repaying bullshit favors, darling,” he said, and as soon as Ed slid back off him, he got back up.

Stede felt lighter than he did after talking to Izzy. He didn’t know he was all that affected by him, or that worried, but the tension took hold of his shoulders again as soon as he left their bedroom.

Can’t force him to be himself again, so it’s better to not focus on him, he reminded himself sternly.

He ended up in the kitchen, and found his prize, the remaining part of a cake he’d made for Ed. There was a lot of it left still so he wasn’t about to take the whole thing with him, so he got a knife, plate and fork. In his haste, he’d accidentally cut a substantial slice from it without fully meaning to. If Stede had any appetite, he’d be taking some for himself, or sharing the slice with him. When he made it, he’d decided on chocolate, because Ed had said he hadn’t had it often, much less in a dessert, but as he tried it, it became a particular favorite. Sure, his favorite dessert changed weekly if not daily, but he enjoyed the cake, nonetheless.

Stede sighed, fully intending to stop getting so damn distracted, took the plate in hand and turned to leave the kitchen.

With any luck, he’d stop worrying so much over Izzy. He was optimistic, had a plan that was hopefully stubborn-ex-first-mate proof, but time would tell. He wanted to test the waters first, get a read on how he’d react, and he had his thoughts on it.

It was as good as settled, so he could guiltlessly let his absolutely gorgeous boyfriend have what he wanted.

Sure, Izzy still came to mind, about the consequences of his recent actions with Ed, but… he hadn’t reacted before, and honestly, he’d probably rather get tortured than ask about their sex life, entangled in a particular love of food or not. It was obvious Ed had changed in a very physical way, especially to someone who’d seen him daily for a very long time before the whole living situation met their agreement and slowly increasing portions.

They loved the consequences, though, marks slowly appearing on Ed’s belly and thighs, mapping new growth, and Stede’s clothes slowly but surely getting tighter on him.

But he’d been standing and thinking in the kitchen and Ed wasn’t going to wait forever.

“Get lost?”

“Lost in thought. Mainly about you.”

“Yeah? What about me?”

“I accidentally cut you a bit more than I thought you’d want, so I was thinking about it, what would happen if you started wanting more dessert after dinner. I know it’s a bit more than usual, and I won’t be sharing it with you, so if it’s too much, just tell me.”

“Mm, when you say that after you say that you got distracted thinking about me like that. It just makes me want to push myself that much further,”

“Then let’s see you try.”

Ed took the plate from his hands, eagerly taking a bite. “It’s great, if I didn’t say it was before. Probably did, but still.”

“I always love your compliments.”

Stede watched him eat silently, trying desperately to not let his thoughts consume him entirely. He was hellbent on having a nice moment with Ed, no matter what Izzy was doing or how he was feeling. He was fine, and wouldn’t do anything rash, he cared too much about Ed to do that, so Stede could stop worrying so damn much about it.

He needed a distraction.

Impulsively, he slid Ed’s shirt up and moved himself closer beside him. “You’re absolutely wonderful, you know that?”

“Mhm,” he said, muffled by a bite of cake, that he swallowed. “Heard that a time or two from you. You’re sure you’re not stressed out?”

Stede swallowed hard, dropping his hands guiltily. “Pretty sure. Tense maybe, but not all that stressed out. Why?”

“You’re being really clingy, in a good way, don’t get me wrong, but you only really get like this when you’re worried about something. I know dealing with Iz can be a lot, he’s kind of hard to talk to sometimes. If you wanna talk about it, you can, won’t bug me or anything.”

The elephant in the room was threatening to ruin a nice moment, was what Ed really meant. And the last time he was extremely stressed out and panicky… he was admittedly very clingy. It was also shortly after a murder, so, of course he was worried about his mental state. It was probably more of a request that he talk about it more than an offer to snake his way out of talking.

“I mean, I’m not exactly relaxed about Izzy, but I’m not worried about him. He ate dinner, I’ve got a plan for his breakfast, and a related plan to get him to eat regular meals without losing out on that much time with you, so…”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not a fucked up situation.”

“True enough, and it’s not exactly a simple thing. Can we maybe ignore it for now and just have a little time together?”

Ed scoffed. “Like I can tell you no. Won’t get further into it than that, anyway, knowing you.”

“It’s honestly alright. I’m worried about him, but I mainly want a distraction rather than to talk about it right now. I need to gather my thoughts and that won’t happen tonight.”

“Just don’t let it get to you too much, yeah?” Ed asked.

Stede nodded, taking Ed’s hand and squeezing it. “I can certainly try. I saw the dishes you left when I took Izzy’s and my dishes back to the kitchen, you know. I’m happy you kept up your usual appetite even without me, especially with Izzy’s… being Izzy.”

“Harder without you next to me, but I managed.”

Stede dropped his hand and brushed some hair away from Ed’s face, letting his hand linger on his cheek just a moment longer before settling for sitting still. “You did a good job, just like how you’re doing right now. So full and still trying for more. Absolutely insatiable.”

“Missed this, even if it wasn’t that long.” Ed grinned and took another bite of cake.

“I’ll just have to make up for lost time, then.” He wrapped his arm around his waist. “Absolutely gorgeous and with an appetite to match.”

“And I’m not supposed to push myself too much when you’re like this?”

“Do what you feel like doing. I’ll be right here regardless.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too. Eager to finish the slice?”

Ed nodded, taking a slower forkful of the cake. “Getting harder now, but I think I’m still good to keep going.”

“Good. Not much left, and if you want my help…”

“Please.”

Stede grinned. “Even using your manners. I wouldn’t tell you no anyway, but its still very sweet that you’re making the effort.”

Stede helped with the last bites, giving him the attention his boyfriend had been after since he slipped out to make sure Izzy would eat dinner.

Ed had gone quiet, pressing his fingertips into his belly to little relief.

“Good job, finishing it. Feel alright?”

“Yeah. Just overdid it. Can you? You’re better at it than I am.”

Stede took the moment to feel just how full he’d gotten, making a sympathetic noise. “Poor thing. So eager for my attention. Just tell me if I hurt you.”

He tried to ease the pain with his hands, gently pressing on any tighter spots, earning a few groans and burps, along with Ed pushing himself into his hands needily.

After soothing at least some of the discomfort, it became clear neither of them had the energy for the original outcome of their evening, still, Stede helped Ed get more comfortable in bed, settled in himself, and they fell asleep tangled in the other’s embrace.

Izzy woke up in the morning to hear a knock again, barely audible. As soon as it stopped, he heard the sound of metal touching the floor. After he heard footsteps retreat, one set, Definitely Stede, it wasn’t the stomping of Ed’s boots on the floor. Outside, there was breakfast, as much food as he’d come to expect, and the usual breakfast food he’d been getting. He wasn’t used to it still, he was pretty sure he’d never be, fresh stuff like eggs and meat, plus bread and even pastries if Stede was feeling generous, or forgetful that Izzy had never admitted to liking sugar. He even got tea. If this was what it was like to be imprisoned, able to come and go as he pleased, given regular meals that were actually good, it was hard to imagine the two of them ever wanting him to leave.

Then he looked under the tray. A folded piece of paper. Izzy grimaced and picked it up. When he walked in, putting his meal on the desk, he unfolded the note, frowning preemptively.

 A fucking note. Why? If this is from Edward…

Izzy,

I know you’d rather slit your own throat than deal with my presence three times a day, much less talk to me or anyone else that often, so this is—at least hopefully—the happy compromise between you and I both getting through this rough patch unscathed. If you leave your dishes outside your door, I’ll take care of them, and you can have your meals this way if you’d like. I’ll still need to talk to you, of course, because you won’t get past this without talking to someone, and as much as you loathe to admit it, I’m your only option. So, enjoy your meal, and have a nice morning. I’ll leave you lunch if this arrangement is something you can tolerate. I know you can get your own food, trust me, but it’s a question if you would get your own food. So far you haven’t shown or told me you would, short of it being a last resort. Either way, again, enjoy your morning.

Regards,

Stede Bonnet

Izzy hissed out a slow sigh. Not Edward, at least. It’s just worse.

The slight relief of it not being some shitty apology or whatever he was expecting Ed to give him, dissolved instantly as dread settled right back into the pit of his stomach. He had a new question about the damn note, now he knew what it said.

“The fuck is he thinking?” Izzy muttered to the empty room, feeling how bare the space was again after Stede left the night before, and dug into his meal.

Chapter Text

A fucking note. He may as well have acted like he thought Izzy wanted to die in the spare bedroom.

Still, Izzy’s appetite won, as it was doing utterly too often, and he ate everything he was given. Part of his brain wanted to refuse the orders, just to prove he could, but he knew he couldn’t do it without facing consequences.

Always the fucking consequences lately.

Consequences that mainly meant more lectures, and Stede’s stupid fucking sad look if he got even a little tense with him.

He had to eat, and his body wasn’t letting him forget it lately.

He was getting soft.

As he found out recently, the softness was literal.

He had a little left, from living as Bonnet’s first mate along with Ed’s, then the raids netting them surplus food so often it was stupid to avoid it. Still, the general stress of living in fear meant he’d lost a bit of weight as his appetite diminished. That lingering idea of thinness was definitely gone now, though.

He was used to his body changing, based on raid frequency and how much food they could afford to eat without fucking things up. Having the extra food left them both softer than they would be when they couldn’t eat more than half a piece of bread.

He’d forgotten, though, apparently forgotten anyway, that if you keep eating more than enough, you get fat if you’re not running to survive.

It was still fucking weird, the idea of being taken care of, rather than it being the opposite. He bristled at Frenchie, Jim and their… girlfriend he assumed, fretting over him. Then his leg rotted, and he had to get it cut off. It didn’t help matters when he needed help fucking walking around. Dealing with a lapse in adrenaline he could manage, but not being able to move like he wanted was a different problem.

It got easier when he was given the leg they repurposed for him, but then he got shot again. He had bad luck with guns for the last several months, and it showed.

He thought he’d gotten over it when he came back from the dead, but clearly, he hadn’t.

Stubborn enough to want to do things for himself but too damn scared of the monster he created to do it.

Bonnet’s coddling wasn’t helping, but it wasn’t like he could make him stop it unless he showed he was capable. He was, just in the reverse of how he was before. Can walk, can't fucking think straight.

In the bleaker moments, he thought about if that was how Edward felt, when he was high and drunk and lashing out for someone breathing in his direction. It could’ve been, he had no claim to the inside of his old boss’ skull, of course. It also didn’t make the damage he did go away.

Neither did ruminating on how he looked lately. He was stuck in his own head, no matter what he did.

The only reprieve was the quiet knocks at the door, signaling a meal.

The food helped shut out the more depressing thoughts, but the room was still just as bleak as it had been when he started sleeping there, just like Stede had said at dinner.

It was two days before he got another note, one of what Izzy was sure would be several.

It told him that Stede was going to eat dinner with him.

Dinner again. The threat of his nervous and sad look if he refused was blatant.

The man could and should save the friendly effort for literally anyone else.

And yet, evening came, along with dinner and company.

“Hello. I was thinking you hadn’t spoken to anyone in a few days, much less gone anywhere so…”

“You don’t have to,” Izzy said.

“I know. I want to, though. Loyal to Ed for this long, I can’t leave you to starve.” He winced, imperceptibly, knowing what he’d just said.

Izzy managed a grin, probably coming off more prey animal than human man, but it was what he mustered. “Loyal, right. Your real reason?”

“I honestly felt sort of bad, leaving you on your own. Must be quiet, sitting alone in here.”

“Good kind of quiet. Tell me why you’re really worried, because it isn’t because you’re feeling guilty that I've been here alone for a couple days. It’s because you pin me as the type to be suicidal and think you’ll walk in there someday soon, and find a corpse rotting because I've hung myself in here?”

“No! You weren’t thinking that, were you?”

“No. Seagull’s kept me alive for some reason. May as well hear him out.”

“And for… him, right?”

“Someone has to kick his ass if he thinks of hurting you.”

Stede sighed, still lingering in the doorway. “That’s not how I meant that, and you know it. Am I allowed in, or are you in even less of a charitable mood than last time?”

“Sit at the damn desk,” Izzy growled

“Thank you.”

“That’s not why I’m letting you. I’m doing this shit so you can tell your boyfriend when he gives you that sad-eyed look that no, I’m not planning on doing anything stupid before I get my brain back into order along with my body and talk to him again. I bet he fucking hates the silent treatment. He used to whine at me for hours on end just to get me to pay attention to him again.”

“He’s been curious. I've said you’re doing alright, eating, at the bare minimum. Both of your moods seem to improve with regular meals, which I’m very grateful for. He was… a very stubborn man to convince to try eating when he thought you’d died.”

“Of course he was. If I was sane, I’d feel better the further away from him I got. He should’ve felt the same, but I’m used to him not doing what he should.”

“And yet, you are here, being treated like an old friend of ours, which I’m sure you absolutely hate. And as I’m positive you’re aware, you can’t exactly change his mind, about you or anything or anyone else. He wants to talk, but on your schedule.”

“You could do me the favor of letting me suffer through this shit and steal food and see him accidentally. Placating me won’t fix a fucking thing in my skull.”

“You deserve to be treated with care. I don’t mind bringing you food, it’d honestly no trouble at all. Same with talking to you, it’s not torture for me. You, on the other hand, well…”

“You’re absolutely impossible to argue with.”

Izzy finally dug into the meal, not wanting to hear Stede’s retort. He was lucky they had good food still, but it stuck in the back of his mind that he was eventually going to leave, so he had no reason to get used to it, since if—when—he went back to sea, he was going to be at the mercy of stolen goods and rationing until he got killed again. Maybe that one wouldn’t mean he’d argue with a damn seagull about his death wish.

He was beginning to have an odd relationship with the idea of death, all in all. Seemed like being left for dead then asked to commit murder-suicide then wanting to live and then getting shot did that.

Before he could ruminate on it further, he looked up to see Stede, watching him so closely he felt like he was seeing through him.

“You’re thinking hard on something tonight. Is it something that you’d talk about with me instead of stewing until it breaks you?”

“Nothing,” Izzy said, staring at his plate, trying to make him frustrated enough to leave him alone. He let him in just to make him realize he was doing—not fine, if he was fine, he’d be outside—passably enough to survive another day.

Stede was watching him, when he glanced back up, a soft smile on his face, like it was funny he was avoiding the question still.

“I’m honestly curious. When you get quiet like that it makes me wonder if I've done something wrong and you’re mapping out the way to either escape or stab me to death optimally,” he said, smile turning wry.

Izzy laughed harshly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Bonnet. Edward adores you too much to even try it anymore. If I was, you’d never see me coming, but again, the idea of Ed killing me, going through with it all the way, stops me in my tracks if I get close to thinking about it. Anyone who so much as thinks of hurting you is dead meat.”

The smile was gone, but he didn’t look upset, instead, he looked surprised.

“Oh,” Stede said.

“Don’t fucking tell me you don’t know how he looks at you.” Like you’re the best thing in any room he walks into.

“No, I know how he feels about me. I just didn’t know it was that intense of a feeling for him.”

Izzy’s eyebrows rose. “He told you.”

“About?”

“I’m really dead to him if I’m wrong and he hasn’t told you, but, the Kraken bullshit. The story he told you, the one he tells everyone, is bullshit. Kraken didn’t kill his dad, he did. Never killed anyone but his dad, outside cases of accidents and self-defense, and the man was a piece of shit. Wouldn’t surprise me that he told you, after you murdered Low like you did. Damn clean job, if I didn’t tell you before.” He gave him a wry smile. Stede brightened at the praise for an instant before his expression clouded over again.

“He told me before that, actually. It was around the time when you were hellbent on killing me, or making him do it, the doggy heaven bit. Disposing of the pet, as it was. He said he wouldn’t, and then I left him, and we know what happened, you far more intimately than me. He may well have gone back on that, if accidentally. Still, I didn’t realize that depth to it, since he doesn’t seem eager to kill anyone else.”

Izzy took another bite of food. “It’s a mind fuck. I told him to tell you that when you ran out on us after you killed Low like you did. Message probably didn’t get across with how you handled it, nearly breaking up with Ed after it got to you. It doesn’t get easier, if you were curious, even in self-defense. The only way it gets less shitty is to separate it out of your head one way or another. It’s why he said he wouldn’t after his dad. It doesn’t matter, though, the point was I’m pretty damn sure he would do it again for you, to keep you safe.”

“Did you have to kill someone to save his life?”

Of course he’d cut to the quick. “Have. A few times, even. After he told me about his dad, long time ago now, I would’ve killed that bastard myself, if I was him. Since he refused to do it and told me he wouldn’t, I knew I’d probably have to, and I have had to. When he asked me to kill him, he probably thought about it the same way as he did killing his dad. Damage control. Must’ve thought he deserved it after he saw how deep the rot went in my head, especially after he fucked me up like he did.” He stopped talking and took another bite of food, not sure if he wanted his new question answered. “Would you still feel the way you do about him if he fucked with your head that much?”

The silence stretched between them, agonizingly scraping against the nerves he’d exposed in his brain asking one fucking question.

Stede had a complicated expression. “I don’t know. I think maybe he already has. Not the same as you, of course, obviously, not even close to comparison. That was stupid to say. Sorry. I’ll start over. Really, I don’t know how I’d feel. It’s complicated. Your situation is complicated, all of it. In the emotional sense, though, I thought I’d be over him. I heard from a childhood bully and now late member of the Royal English Navy that I ruined his life. Of course, I believed him because it was the middle of the night, and I was kidnapped. He shot himself in the head accidentally because he was drunk. It was not pleasant to witness that happen. Point is, I realized after I tried living my old life, that… I couldn’t pretend it never happened. I also got incredibly lucky that the damage I did wasn’t as severe as it could have been. I don’t think that’s good advice for you, though. I don’t know how I’d feel in your situation. With any bullies I had and stop me if I get too close to being attacked by you for making the comparison, I wouldn’t want their apology, much less anything they had to say about hurting me. I don’t think I’d want to be around him, if that’s what answer you’re digging for. Which, is something believe you know already.”

“Personal fucking experience,” Izzy muttered.

“Which is why I think that if you didn’t want to make amends, because it’s a bit more complex than a bullying issue, you’d be on the Revenge, probably have stowed away when they visited and started working with them again immediately after the whole death thing was sorted out. You’re plenty capable of it, which you know. Instead, you’re sitting there, convincing me to let you starve, and doing an awful job of it.”

“You won't take the easy way out either.”

“Seems like I won’t. You benefit, though. Usually with my choices there’s only casualties.”

Izzy scoffed. “Welcome to piracy, Bonnet. Every step you take is blood-soaked. Even if you retire, they’re still there. Always fucking there. Kind of the point of it, if you ask me.”

“And Ed and I are eventually going to be in the business of harboring pirates. Hell, we’re getting a head start on that one, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, a fucked up rotten one, great first customer at your fucking inn.”

“You’re not.”

Izzy ignored him in favor of his dinner, finishing the remains silently.

“Not eager to ask why I’m in the arguing mood?”

“No. I don’t care what you think of me.”

“Bullshit, Izzy. Because you do care. You wouldn’t have helped me out with learning to be a good pirate if you were rotten or broken. You also would have told me to leave you alone when I caught you training. Still damn impressive, by the way, if you didn’t know my compliment was very genuine, and only partially aimed at making you pliant enough to say yes to training me. I’ll tell you what I was going to say when you inevitably asked me to clarify. You aren’t rotten. Flawed, maybe, but not rotten. Not fucked up either. I don’t know what happened to you that made you believe that, whether it was Ed or not, or if it came from something that happened a while ago, but I don’t think it’s something you should believe.”

“What the fuck do I say to that?”

“I’m not asking you to have a retort, I’m asking you to consider what I’ve said, unless you want to keep talking.”

“No.”

“Alright.”

Stede silently finished his own meal, took their empty plates and left without another word.

He was being oddly charitable, all things considered. The scared animal that had taken up a seemingly permanent residence in Izzy’s chest wondered if it was a trick. Bonnet was a warm presence, genuinely curious about how he was, or seemingly curious.

He hadn’t had someone worry about him so much in ages. The crew of the revenge that was lucky enough to be subjected to the daily life of a broken-hearted asshole pirate so that they had to care about him, in the same pitying the defenseless bastard way.

He didn’t think they were trying to fuck with him because they hated what happened as much as Izzy did, trying to snap him out of the ways his old boss had broken his brain.

Stede wasn’t doing that though. He was being too nice and making him too reliant on the routine of regular meals.

Maybe it was a trick, and when he started getting too attached, he’d throw him out for being a bad influence on his boyfriend. It was true, he wasn’t exactly a helpful force when Edward was heartbroken after getting dumped without so much as a word or a reason.

A sickening feeling made his chest ache. Maybe, when it was all over, he’d learn his lesson. The stories that he’d told the crew always had a lesson at the end of them, maybe this one wasn’t fiction. Maybe the lesson was to never trust the mediocre-ex-pirate who’s dating the man you were in love with for a strikingly long period of your life. You can’t feed someone and expect them not to get attached, so it’s better to never let it happen, and if it does, make sure it stings as much as it can before you throw him out for being a godawful influence and constant reminder of who your boyfriend could be if he tried a little harder to be a little rougher.

But that was too attached of a thing to say about someone he didn’t want to have feelings for anymore.

Izzy shook the thoughts off, undid his prosthetic, and went to bed early.

***

Another note that was left with Izzy’s breakfast threatened another meal together, and conversation, so another evening sitting with Stede fucking Bonnet eating dinner and trying not to fuck things up and get kicked out came.

“I had an idea, of something that may help you with Ed,” Stede said, after the now usual routine of Izzy’s lack of greeting and sitting at the desk and making conversation.

“As if I’m not a captive audience.” He knew it would stop if he did anything that proved he wasn’t losing his grip on reality, but…

“It may sound self-serving, but maybe you’d like to talk about him? The better times you had with him, I mean, since I've heard what he was like when I was gone, and I highly suspect that would make you feel worse about everything, with how seeing him alone caused this.”

“It wasn’t pleasant, you know. Not a good time for either of us, even back then. It was when he was around Jack, too.”

“Then leave out the unpleasant parts and Jack if you have to. I honestly want to hear you talk about him again. You looked almost happy when you did before for the seconds you did, so I thought it might help you remember why you’re so stubbornly waiting out your and my patience. You have to have some reason to have cared, and not have killed him for being a monster with you and the crew, and with him hurting you like he did. So, I want to hear it.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“How long have you known him?”

“Most of my life. Probably the oldest friend he’s got. Met when we were teenagers, after the kraken thing went down. He ran away from home, and I wasn’t exactly willing to go back on what I did when I fucked off.”

“That is a lot of history. You protecting him started then, didn’t it?”

“You saw how many people knew me on the republic, and I've been with him longer than I care to admit. But it was when I started the guard dog thing. Our old boss hated us both, but he didn’t think to stop mouthing off to him, so I took the blame for him sometimes. He didn’t learn shit, but the lessons he taught weren’t meant to be learned from. They meant to kill us.”

Recognition flashed in Stede’s eyes. “That was Hornigold, wasn’t it?”

“And you think I’ll tell you anything new?”

“After the mutiny, he had an experience of sorts, he saw him, and told me about him, among the… other things he’d experienced while he was half dead. I put together the clues, but that’s it. He never told me about anything he did to you or him when you worked for him.”

“It’s why I know damn well piracy is dangerous. Clearing infections on wounds isn’t a joke, and half the scars on me were from Hornigold punishing us. Usually, he’d do physical punishments, but he was always fond of starving boys to death, or outright killing them.”

Stede grimaced.

Izzy told him it wasn’t pleasant, and Ed was the one trying desperately to keep him from thinking about how he grew up in contrast to Stede’s presumed upbringing. Poor kids who run away from home don’t get to go home again when things don’t go their way. So, he continued, probably digging the knife in.

“He went traitor later, English lapdog,” Izzy spat. “Probably dead now, he was old thirty years back. We left after he said it was stick by him or die, he and I decided death was a good option rather than doing that any longer.”

“And that’s how he became a captain?”

“Fuck no, give him a few years and he would be, but that’s not my story to tell. It’s your boyfriend you should ask about that.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You should know I’m not polite, just saving him the story so when you inevitably give him your mental notes on how I’m acting, he won’t feel betrayed by me not sugar coating the stories.”

“You were very polite not to stab me.”

“No, I wasn’t. It would’ve been a favor to kill you back then. Glad I didn’t, though.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Don’t act like it’s an actual favor, Bonnet. You make him happy, and I hadn’t seen him actually happy in a while before you met him. It’s not my fault you’re so damn lucky you can’t die.”

“Makes two of us on that front, you know.”

“Right. Already normal that it happened.”

“It doesn’t have to be but yes, it seems you’ve chosen to forget you were lucky enough to survive getting shot.”

“Lucky,” Izzy repeated. “Doesn’t feel lucky. Feels like punishment for a life of crime.”

“It’s a matter of perspective. Ed and I both are happier that you made it out alive, zero casualties from my last plan as a pirate captain. I count it as a win, personally, and Ed cares about you a lot.”

“You don’t wish it’d stuck?”

“No. Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t want you dead. I hated that prick who shot you, you know that, it’s why Ed and I are doing this—or trying to, anyway. It may turn out to be nothing but a noble idea, but… poison into positivity or something like that.”

“What if nothing changes?”

“With you? I think something will, eventually. You’ve had your own ideas on how to fix your problems on your own. I think you’re smart as all hell and can absolutely think your way out of whatever you feel about Ed, by force if you had to. I think you’re also smart enough to know when you need to get the fuck out of a situation and call it a loss when you’re not going to win. So far, you’ve been stubborn enough to want to try to fix things. I personally think it’s something related to how you met him, knowing what I know now. You looked almost happy reminiscing, you know. I like that look on you.”

“Right, and I’m just fucked in the head enough to want to hash things out and not run away from it and go back to sea.”

"It makes some sense, I think. You spent years protecting him, and then… you know what happened. He hurt you, really badly, and that’s not what happens when you’re, for lack of a proper term for the feelings, in love with someone like you were—or are, if it’s a present tense feeling. It’s your choice to want to fix things, if and only if that’s what you want. Ed has told me a dozen times at least that he wants you to know he’s absolutely alright with any outcome, since he knows he hurt you like that, treated you horribly, and doesn’t expect total forgiveness. You’ve got time to figure it out, so… use the time. Good to keep talking?”

“Fine. Youd talk to a wall if it stood still long enough.”

Stede chuckled. “Tell me what you really think why don’t you. I've been wondering, why did you try to fix things with Ed? You sort of got what you wanted after he came back.”

“He let me break him, sure. He also did nauseating things to me when I pushed his boundaries. Getting force-fed your own flesh doesn’t really make for a happy life, you know.”

“Oh,” Stede said quietly.

“Yeah, oh. Happy you pried now, Bonnet?” Izzy snapped.

“I want to help you,” he answered, tone even. “Why didn’t you just leave?”

“Couldn’t. had a duty to my crewmates. You make a mess, you clean it up. When they stage some fuckin’ intervention saying your boss is toxic and whatever the fuck you’re doing with him is toxic, you listen, and you try to unfuck the situation. He hadn’t acted like that after a breakup before, and he did alright, up until I pushed him to act like the man I knew him for and not who he really was. Then he shot me in the leg for saying maybe we talk it through, because shit was just that fucked. Told him how I felt about him after that after he got done pretending I was dead and letting me literally rot, and he told me to kill him and then myself. He thought I died, so he tried to kill himself, again. Then I dragged myself out in the storm to solve everyone’s problems in one go. figured if the mutiny worked, and he died, I could help them figure the rest out from there, leave Frenchie or Jim to be captain and first mate, and fuck off or die since I wasn’t useful.”

Stede listened silently. The silence infuriated Izzy to no end, of course, but he let him come up with his answer.

“You went through a lot,” he finally said. “Am I allowed to tell you something—maybe two things that may make you want to butcher me with your butter knife?”

Izzy shrugged. He’d just say it even if he said no, so he didn’t bother.

“You and I are more alike than I assumed.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that I wanted to take accountability for my mistakes too, since it wasn’t wholly on you that he snapped like he did. You’re also concerned for the sake of the crew, like I still am, even if I haven’t been their boss… maybe ever, only by title and in earnest for a handful of days with your help. I asked you all to allow him back not only because of my feelings, not entirely, but because I could tell that he felt genuinely awful about what happened, after he and I talked about what happened at the dock. Or what didn’t happen, rather. I know he’s done awful things, and I know you and him avoided the other on the ship, and now… you know, we’re sitting in your room as far away from him as you can get.”

“The other thing?”

“You aren’t poison, Izzy. You’re taking too much blame for his actions and my panic induced choices. From what I've heard, it was hellish for all of you, but you seem to have taken the brunt of his anger, which tracks with how they tried to help you figure out how bad it had gotten between you and Ed. You took on a lot of burden for something that three people caused.”

“And?”

“And you can stop thinking it was your fault for having an idea of a man you’ve known for so long. You wanted him to be the way he was before he met me, minus the general boredom part, not understanding it was just a bit misguided of a venture, and you took that on by yourself. It’s a lot to bear,” Stede continued.

“So what? I’m supposed to deal with him, I’m his right-hand man—or was. It was my fucking job, either way. You sometimes have to do shit that’s distasteful or hurts you. You take the bullet because maybe, just fucking maybe, if he hurts you one more fucking time…” his voice cracked. “Maybe he’ll figure it all out, remember that you’re still important to him, that you won’t be reduced to a bloodstain on the deck. That later the man you spent years helping survive decides that no, he’d rather commit mass murder-suicide think you’re still alive or try to be better on his own again. It’s a lot, to know that happened to you and not believe you’re poison.”

“You’ve both changed for the better since that all started.”

“Sure we did. Who got shot in the gut and got buried on fucking land?”

“I meant before you got shot. The crew and their respect for you was striking, even if you were hiding out, or getting drunk and couldn’t walk, getting used to a makeshift prosthetic then the new one they made for you, it was obvious that they loved you. The way they talked about you… it said a lot about what you did for them while I was gone.”

Izzy tightened his jaw, trying not to cry.

“So, do you believe me? You’re flawed, but so is everyone, and honestly, you and Ed are doing your damndest to function, and be better than you were. You aren’t going to break him again, because not only am I here to relay messages and clear up misunderstandings, but you’re also a much better man than you were.”

Izzy was silent, not willing to listen to the sappy bullshit from anyone, much less the man who should hate his guts for fucking up what was a perfectly happy life.

“Are you in the mood to argue that point or are you going to tell me to leave?”

“You can go,” Izzy muttered.

“And here I was thinking you’d want to argue,” Stede said, taking their plates and paused for a second in the doorway. “See you, alright? Not giving up on you yet, you know.”

Izzy nodded silently, jaw tight.

As soon as the door closed, Izzy took a long, shaky breath and finally, for the first time in a few months, let himself cry, not bothering to wipe the tears off his face.

***

Stede walked back to their room from the kitchen after dropping off his and Izzy’s dishes, and saw Ed looking at him. It wasn’t strange, he did it a lot, usually paired with affection, but this time it was different.

Ed looked worried. Oddly worried, so, Stede sat beside him, trying to gauge if he wanted to be touched or not.

Instead of acknowledging the moment, Ed spoke. “You’ve been kinda off the last couple days. What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It’s—” Stede started, trying to brush him off.

Ed moved away from him, just slightly. “If you fucking dare say it’s nothing, I’ll press you even harder. I know how you are normally, and it’s not like this. I just want to know how to help, and I can’t help if you keep saying it’s nothing when it’s clearly something.”

It had been something for a while, actually. He’d been getting closer to Izzy, despite Izzy refusing to acknowledge it even slightly. Still, the weight of that was wearing on Stede more and more by the evening he spent with him instead of his boyfriend. It got worse when Ed noticed, or Izzy mentioned it.

“I haven’t been making you feel like a second priority to Izzy, have I?”

“Oh, that’s the problem. Nah, not really. I get it, I mean, it gets kinda quiet eating dinner by myself, but I get it. I got it when you were being a very competent pirate captain, and I get it now, you’re trying to unfuck Izzy’s brain, so… It doesn’t bug me.”

“But I’m doing it still.”

“Maybe a little,” Ed admitted.

“You’re not allowed to shut me out either, Ed. I have to help Izzy, because you can’t, and he’s letting me, but I keep thinking about him and I can’t help myself from feeling like I’m avoiding you when I sit with him. It’s not because of what he’s told me, mainly because it hasn’t been much of anything. It’s been a while of me doing this and the guilt is setting in worse than before. So, if I’m hurting your feelings by being around him, I can tell him that our conversations are going to be less frequent.”

“How about we just talk instead? In my experience leaving Izzy alone doesn’t fix him, it just makes him get stuck in his head more and lash out over stupider shit.”

“Sure. Talking to him tonight, I realized I barely know anything about your life before we met.”

“You haven’t told me much either,” Ed pointed out. “Anne and Mary had to tell me about your ex.”

“Because you were ignoring me. And I met your ex.”

“And it was Jack. I don’t like him either, you know.”

“Seemed like you did,” Stede said, sourness evident in his tone.

“I don’t. Izzy was the one who had the thought to bring him back into our lives, to drag me away from you. He’s out of my life now, and you may be the best thing that’s happened to me.”

“Ed…”

“It’s true. Now, c’mon, story for a story. You’ve heard about my dad, met an ex, and met my oldest friends, including the one who’s down the hall, trying to unfuck his brain and sort of succeeding at it, if what you’ve said means anything, so, you owe me something by now.”

“You heard about my ex-wife, by force. I should probably get the uh, worst part, out of the way about that.” Stede fidgeted with his fingers. “Dessert now or after I tell you?”

“Eat and talk?” Ed suggested.

“Absolutely.”

Stede then had time to consider how the hell he was going to explain what he wanted to talk about.

He took a plate and some pastries, enough to share, lost in thought about his old life, Izzy and how the hell he was going to feel better about his feelings. He walked back to their room and paused at the sight of Ed, knowing he wasn’t going to share the most flattering story about his life before piracy. He settled into bed next to him and put the plate between them.

“Just tell me. Can’t be that bad.”

“It doesn’t make me look great, is all. I had a wife, where I lived before I ran away, which you know, and in my old life, it was… expected… to continue the bloodline, as it was. I never chose to marry her, and she was optimistic that we’d get closer when we met. Obviously, we didn’t, for reasons that she figured out after I went back and that I figured out meeting you, with… a slight delay. But part of the expectations that were placed on us, as a young couple, was to… have children.”

Stede winced as he watched Ed put the pieces together, halfway through a pastry.

Ed swallowed. “So, you—”

“I’m a father of two. A teenage girl and a young boy, Alma and Louis.”

Ed furrowed his brow. “Who you left when you fucked off from being an aristocrat.”

Stede couldn’t answer, throat tight.

“You left your kids,” he said.

“I wasn’t much of a father,” Stede managed.

“Still. Fucking hell,” Ed muttered.

“I didn’t say it was a good thing I did! Trust me, I’ve paid for my mistakes in spades. None of the three of them were thrilled I’d crashed back into their lives. I was an idiot, I’m still an idiot. I was a terrible husband and a worse father, and I am well aware of that. I was an outcast in everything, including at home. It was why I left, not because of them, but the combination of everything.”

“I don’t blame you really, but it’s a shitty thing to do to a kid. Kids need both their parents around. Otherwise… I think they end up being pirates.”

“Seems like it, although it may not help in every case. My own father was… a complicated man. He tried to fix me mainly. It’s how I learned to love reading. I may have inflicted my children with nightmares trying to share my appreciation for reading and stories. Never got to hear the end of that one.”

“Books about what?”

Stede flushed. “…pirates.”

“Yeah, you don’t tell little kids about the shit we used to do.”

“A few years late on that one, and Mary told me as much, and told me to never do it again and stick to the children's books. But, now you owe me.”

“How about I tell you about Hornigold?”

“The one you saw in the gravy basket.”

“Yeah, that bastard. Met Iz then.”

“Izzy told me a little about it tonight, and about him up until you left. He didn’t sound pleasant when you told me about him in the gravy basket, and he certainly doesn’t sound any better now.”

“Cause he wasn’t. Tactically minded, sure, but a dickhead. Privateered for the English when Iz and I left. There was a mutiny that went nowhere, but caused enough chaos that we could slip out. Gave us the ultimatum, caused that mutiny doing it, and we decided we could do better on our own. Maybe it was more me than him saying that but… it’s what we eventually did. Heard he might’ve died in a storm off some fucking coast, but he’s gone now for damn sure, old as he was.”

“So, when did you start doing the whole Blackbeard thing?”

“After a couple years on our own, used a nickname from Jack, Izzy decided he’d stick by me at some point, then it stuck like that until we met you. He said something along the lines of me being an incompetent kid who needed some help until I got used to piracy. According to his logic, I must’ve never done it right, cause barring the few times he left for a couple days, he stuck by me. Rewarded his loyalty when we finally got the Queen Anne’s, fast forward a couple decades, and he met you, whined about you, and I met you.”

“He really cared—still cares—about you. I could tell before you told me, since… he looked happy, talking about it.”

“Shit. Wasn’t that great, in my head anyway, but yeah, he probably liked it, I wasn’t bored yet, didn’t have the death wish. Probably the closest we’d ever been, outside of him trying to keep me alive when Hornigold tried to kill me or the both of us.”

The conversation went between old stories, Stede regaling him with stories about bullies and various pranks pulled at his expense, explaining the intricacies of just how complicated a man his father was, how abysmal he was as a husband, where the lighthouse painting in his quarters came from, and how he hadn’t fully appreciated Mary’s artwork until Ed had seen it. He told him about Doug too, how nice he seemed and that it was her relationship with him that made him realize he loved Ed. Ed returned it with stories about his and Izzy’s lives, getting better at piracy steadily, going from scraping by to a comfortable life to monotonous raids and boredom on Ed’s part. They’d run out of pastries after a few stories, so the plate was relegated to a side table to be washed later, and when they’d run out of stories to share, there was one issue to settle.

“Feel better about us, and me not feeling left out ‘cause of Izzy?” Ed asked.

“Sort of.”

“Don’t stress out so much over me, okay? I know it’s not because you hate me or anything. He needs the help, clearly.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” Ed replied, wrapping his arm around Stede, trying to show him physically just how much he loved him and how little he minded the evenings he was alone for dinner.

***

Izzy couldn’t sleep.

He’d gotten used to bouts of insomnia and the fear of a nightmare feeling too real to go back to sleep after, but this was one of the worse nights to deal with it. It usually happened if he had something to worry about, and it just so fucking happened it was another night when he was stuck in his head. Between Stede, ed and everything they’d talked about, he wasn’t exactly tired enough to sleep.

A sickening idea crossed his mind.

Fullness usually wore him out, even if he wasn’t really in the eating mood. He could probably eat a little more, wear himself out enough to sleep at least a little.

The old nervousness hit him about rations and potentially taking more than his share, but Bonnet had said that rationing was a stupid thing to do on land. He said it nicely, but that was the point of what he’d said a half dozen times just to nail the point into Izzy’s brain.

He’d earn a lecture, of course, about his apparent hobby of not asking for more food if he wanted or needed to eat more, but he had plenty of proof he was rating plenty. The bit of belly that poked out under his ribs said plenty about his appetite, or how he’d gotten used to forcing himself to eat everything he was given.

All he wanted was to get some sleep and not think about what Stede told him. That was why he was irritably fitting his leg back where it belonged and walking to the kitchen.

He found the leftover food, took what he wanted of it, tapping into some self-loathing and snagging a couple of pastries on his way out, leaving the empty plates with the other dishes. They looked good, admittedly, sugary, but certainly edible.

The sickness in his brain wondered about punishment, but he knew what would happen. Stede would say he punished himself plenty, forcing himself to eat so much at once and that he should just talk about his feelings rather than trying to rid himself of them by doing… whatever the fuck he’d end up doing.

He sat back down on his bed and looked at his haul. Leftover bread, stew and a few pastries. About as substantial as his regular meals, which made his stomach churn.

Izzy promptly shut the feeling up by shoving a bite of food into his mouth. He tried to work out a plan for it, trying to force his brain back to a tactical focus. He was going to deal with the bread and sweet shit first, then shove the stew down his throat at the end.

The bread went down easily enough, and the pastries were cloyingly sweet. He never knew why Ed ate the stuff like it was good. The things he’d eat always made Izzy’s teeth ache with the intensity of the sugar. The pastries weren’t bad, but goddamn sweet.

Probably on purpose, since Stede could cater to Ed’s tastes. Easier on land, easier to get sugar, too. Easier to get a lot of things, but mainly luxuries, especially without resorting to theft.

One more way that he suits Ed better than you do, his brain supplied.

He shut that voice up with the other pastries he’d stolen.  

Izzy could almost get used to the excess, except that he couldn’t, because the second he fixed things with Ed, he could absolve his conscience and fuck off permanently.

Depressingly, he was already getting fuller than he could find comfortable. He wasn’t thinking about Stede or ed though, so that was… certainly something beneficial. Almost done, though.

His throat protested the stew, thick and not nearly as easy to almost drink as he thought it would be. The fullness was getting painful, in a nostalgic way. He thought the kind of pain he liked, the kind that cleared his head, would be permanently nauseating.

It… wasn’t. He was in a new type of pain, of course, but it didn’t make him feel sick.

Sicker than he already felt anyway.

He wondered if this was something Ed did often, considering you typically end up fat the one way and that’s by eating more than enough food for long enough that your body realizes it’s a permanent enough thing. The amount of weight on him…

Suggested fucking nothing because he wasn’t about to think about his b—about Edward like that.

Especially not how tight his old clothes must be by now. Probably didn’t fit him at all anymore.

Regular meals seemed to work for them both, Stede had said. He wasn’t wrong, the visible proof on Ed, and the idea that the regular meals gave Izzy a routine and made him focus on something else for a while.

Maybe that’s how you fix a broken brain, feed the victim so they don’t think about how fucked everything is anymore.

To his credit, it was working. He pressed his fingertips into his side, and groaned.

Too much, too fast. But he sort of liked the tension in his body.

The last mouthful of stew took a few tries to swallow, but he finally managed it. He’d won out over his body insisting he couldn’t eat more. He shoved the bowl towards the other dishes.

His stomach ached horribly. He felt the strain of his muscles, clenching in vain around the food he’d eaten.

“I am never, ever doing this stupid shit again,” he growled, forcing himself to believe it.

He ran a hand over his belly, pressing in, coaxing out burps and low whines, positive no one could hear he noises he was making.

In his desperation, he imagined how poorly Ed’s old clothes must fit him now, to be not wearing them and wearing things that clearly used to be looser than they were, probably borrowed clothes until he could figure out what did and didn’t fit anymore, and still showed how he’d gotten fat in the months of retirement.

He’d be a sight, not like he wasn’t always, but still. Jacket with no hope of closing, shirts practically showing off the gut he’d gotten lately, barely covering the softness that settled where there hadn’t been much to begin with. Pants hanging open, fully undone, thighs making the leather creak as he moved. They’d probably make the seams pop too, ripping stitches open for any purchase of space in the confines of clothes that used to fit perfectly.

He used to fit in perfectly with Edward, too, as his brain added, unhelpful in its pathetic wondering and pining.

Then, like his brain had cracked open and lost the last dregs of sanity that remained in the moments between eating and deciding that was uncalled for, then thinking of his old boss, pretending he wasn’t still a terror, somewhere under the smile and softness that covered it up, he had a particularly strange thought.

If I keep going like this, eating like a fucking glutton, I’ll end up looking a hell of a lot like him. Stopping tonight, my clothes might be a little tighter, but I haven’t fucked up my appetite completely yet. Although, getting fat, outgrowing these, wouldn’t that be something? Not even a bad thing. I liked glutting myself stupid tonight, was something I could find fun, even.

The fuck was yet doing in his skull? Why did he think about it like it would ever happen again?

Yet?

As if I’ll do it again. As if I won’t get caught being fucking weird.

As if I’ll say a damn thing besides sorry I was pretending this shit is normal and that I can control myself around someone who’s changed so utterly he’s almost unrecognizable just until he’s too recognizable to get air in my lungs to feel normal and not like I’m dying and have lost track of how many times in the last few months I’ve died or felt like I was dying.

But I don’t mind him being unrecognizable. I don’t like the man that I’d recognize. That man tortured me for months, escalating when he didn’t like my tone. Even if I liked it sometimes, forced him be that man to before he started taking parts of my body from me. The fat guy who was wearing different clothes, still had his voice and looked… good, solid, sturdy, and just as magnetic as he had twenty years ago, grinning like he’d lost his mind and didn’t care. I think I can find it in me to have some sort of love for that man again, if he could find it in him to tolerate me in return.

As if we could.

But I want to.

Desperately.

He looks happy like that.

Maybe…

No .

It’s not and has never fucking been your place, so stop fucking thinking that way and go the fuck back to your room and pretend like you’re still thinking of starving. If he knows you did that, he’s never going to buy that lie again.

He kneaded at his belly, heaved himself to his feet, weight shifting as he moved to stand, barely bothering to clear the empty dishes from the floor where he was sitting. He wanted to fall asleep there, will the pain in his guts to go away, get the bloated look to go away. Look like himself and not an image of gluttony.

He still didn’t regret it. He wanted to sleep on the kitchen floor, exhausted and overfed as he was, but he knew he couldn’t.

He got to his room and pulled his undershirt over his head, ignoring the seams popping with the strain he’d put it under. He ignored the way it felt like his stomach, full to bursting, had pressed up into his lungs, keeping him from catching his breath, barely managing to pant to breathe from the barest exertion of taking his fucking shirt off, ignored how that thrilled him.  He worked his pants off, ignoring the scar that remained on his stomach, still red but not stitched shut so he didn’t bleed out again.

He ignored the want in his brain to do it all over again, every day, even, if that meant he could think of Ed normally again.

He ignored every twinge of pain and pant of his breath until his eyes closed and he fell asleep, knowing he’d have to finish his breakfast in the morning, which was only a few hours away, with as late as his binge made him stay up.

***

Stede glanced around the kitchen. There were a couple more plates than he remembered there being the evening before.

Ed caught on to his silence immediately. “Something up?”

Stede shook his head. “Handle the dishes for me? I should get to work on breakfast.”

“Sure.”

Ed finished the dishes quickly, and took to helping Stede with breakfast. It was a simple enough meal, was just eggs leftover meat, toast, butter and jam. Easy as far as breakfast went, but Ed wanted attention more than he wanted to actually be of any help. He snuck kisses when he could, at threat of getting burned accidentally. Stede still let him help, only playfully acting like the attention wasn’t welcome.

“Do we have any of the pastries left?” Ed asked, wrapping his arms around Stede’s waist, pressing another kiss to his cheek, letting him feel the way his belly pressed into his back.

“No, I believe two someone’s ate the rest of them last night. I’ll make more later, without you distracting me here.” Or three, a thief in the night taking the remains.

“You love it,” he shot back. “Otherwise, you’d never let me help.”

“When it isn’t something precise, love.”

Ed sighed dramatically, letting go and stepping back. “Right. Yeah, won’t bug you when you bake them.”

“Don’t look so sour, dear, really, you can watch, it’s just a bit more precise than this, and you’d hate them if I messed up the ratios of everything.”

“Would I?”

“Yes. You would. It’d also take longer than all of this to make, so I think you can be patient, especially after you ate a good deal of them last night.” And you’re probably both hungry, poor things, hate to deny at least you the food you want. Izzy’s probably not that hungry, come to think of it, but still… he should eat breakfast. Maybe enough food will make him settle back into his brain like Ed has. It’s unfair to compare them like that, but I can always hope he’ll come to his senses somehow.

“I believe you. Is it almost done?”

“Mhm, get the plates, would you? One for Izzy too, I’m going to leave him a plate.”

“Yeah. He’s been eating still?”

Stede nodded, not trusting himself to not say what he thought was happening without clarifying his suspicions with the culprit, and went about making the three of them tea. Izzy would probably need it, to settle his stomach. He left Izzy’s black, like usual, a hopefully not futile attempt at making him feel welcome. As soon as everything was ready, he wrote Izzy a note and set it by his door, knocking to make sure he knew he’d been left a meal before settling in to chat with Ed over their breakfast.

***

Izzy slowly dragged himself to his feet after putting his prosthetic back on, still drained from the night before, opening the door after he heard Stede knock and leave, finding his breakfast, along with a cup of tea, and another note on a neatly folded piece of paper.

Before he even unfolded the paper, his stomach churned. Izzy knew he’d get a lecture, but this felt sudden. It hadn’t even been a full day since he did it. He should’ve tried harder to hide his theft.

What’s done is done, he thought as he unfolded the note and read It before sitting to eat his breakfast.

Izzy,

I have an inkling as to what you did last night. You’re not in trouble, but we still need to talk. I’ll be back with your dinner later.

Also, the tea should help settle your stomach after last night.

Regards,

Stede

Chapter Text

 The day was too quiet after the note was slipped in with his breakfast. He noticed his tea was black, a minor kindness before his inevitable punishment.

But of course, he wasn’t in trouble.

That line was bullshit.

The wait for Stede to find the time to talk to him about what he’d done was agonizing.

It got bad enough that he walked outside. Ed was in their room, Stede too, so he slipped out unnoticed.

After a few hours of peace, he was found. Old habits and all, he was sitting with his back against the inn, like he was still hiding.

To be fair he wasn’t doing that the entire time he was outside, but standing and wandering got exhausting. He also wasn’t technically hiding outside because he was pretending to be dead.

He was outside to avoid his problems, and as his problems existed now, they found him like they always would.

Particularly the blond, irritating but necessary to not starve to death problem who thought he could fix anyone with attention after it worked out for him once.

At least that was what he could figure he thought after the man all but literally cracked into his skull and stuck his nose into Izzy’s personal business.

Stede smiled, like he wasn’t expecting him to be outside. “Oh. You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”

Izzy scowled up at him. “Would you feel better getting threatened with a fucking lecture from you?”

“I specifically said—” Stede corrected.

Izzy growled and cut him off. “You said that I was in trouble without saying I was, which is the same thing as saying you’ve earned a lecture.”

“So, you decided to run away from your problems?”

“I didn’t get far if I was doing that.” He glanced pointedly at the inn, a handful of feet away, then looked back at Stede. “Can’t leave things like this, anyway, not after everything.”

“Then can we talk about last night?”

“Fine. I couldn’t sleep. I make stupid choices these days, locking myself in the spare bedroom like a man with a death wish, then doing that shit last night.”

Stede nodded, then continued his interrogation. “Was it a hunger thing or…?”

“Couldn’t get my brain to shut up for long enough to sleep.”

“Did that help?”

“Focused on the stomachache I gave myself afterwards instead, so yeah, it helped.”
 

“It’s not a bad thing to have an appetite. It becomes a problem when you’re avoiding things like that.”

“Why do you care?”

“I was concerned I was starving you. I get where you were coming from though, with what you did.”

“Right. And I’m not supposed to do it, that’s the point of the lecture?”

Stede grimaced. “It’s not a great thing to do, avoiding your feelings. and this is not a lecture. It’s a conversation.”

Izzy let him avoid talking about the food part, he looked pained trying to step around the subject. “Was that everything? Short for a lecture, but I can’t complain about that.”

“For God’s sake it wasn’t a lecture! I wanted to make sure you were alright, not going hungry and not trying to hurt yourself, although I may have failed on the second front.”

“You don’t care, you want to solve this fucking problem like every other problem in your perfect life. Maybe today we can finally fix his fucking brain, that it?”

Stede furrowed his brow. “No. I’m offended you think that about me, if I’m honest.”

“Then what the fuck is it?” Izzy asked.

“Israel, I was worried about you,” Stede snapped.

Izzy scoffed. “No, you weren’t.”

“You had dinner plus what looked like a solid half of another meal, and you think that was normal behavior for you?”

 “Couldn’t sleep. You said rationing food was unnecessary. Took advantage of that.”

“I’m not faulting you for eating, it’s the motive that gives me pause.”

“And you can forget it happened.”

“I could, but I won't be.”

“And this is when you threaten your victim. You’re a fast learner, but there’s one problem with that plan you’ve got up your sleeve.” Izzy grinned at Stede, the usual bloodied prey animal smile, the one that got most men to back the fuck off. “I’m really good at taking pain, and you know that. Your boyfriend knows it too, although it’s not like I hide it. It also doesn’t take more than choking someone once to realize after the first couple of seconds that he likes it. It soured a little with the punishments from him before, but I can still find my own pleasure.”

Most men not including Stede, of course. “Why the hell would I punish you? I already knew that bit about you, you take pain better than anyone I've met, give or take. I know trying to hurt you would be a stupid idea. Despite what you think of me, I can learn on the job pretty quickly. Also, you may not know this, I’m pretty damn handy with diplomacy.”

“Right, the last diplomatic thing you did was get me shot trying to play capture the Englishman. Everyone fucks a plan up sometimes, though, don’t feel too bad.” He shot him his best smile, patronizing him.

To his credit, Stede was unfazed. “A rotten streak of luck, sure. I know how to handle you, though. I know you feel guilty about what happened with Ed, for example, and I know you think that if you piss me off enough times I’ll snap and tell you to leave. I've dealt with worse bullies than you, I’ll be honest.”

Izzy growled irritably. “Not guilty, I know how the shit started out between me and him, and I know how it broke down. You can give up on trying to fix me. Lost cause.”

“Then do me one favor, if you could?”

Izzy waited for him to continue.

“Tell me to leave you on your own to solve this problem of yours. I’m not doing this for my benefit, or Ed’s. He and I are both fine with your choices, whatever they are. You’re too stubborn to die, and clearly too stubborn to leave. You’ve had so many chances to leave, and you just haven’t gone. I can stop trying to talk to you, wait on your time to talk to Ed again, or you can leave, if you don’t think your problems with him can be talked the—about between you. I’ll respect that completely and let you choose when you’re ready to stop living like this or leave completely and never come back, forget you ever met me or Ed or any member of the crew if that’s what you think will help, or join them again and pretend you never met him or me in your life, if that seems more palatable. If you say that’s what you want, I’ll respect it, and tell Ed you changed your mind about fixing things with him.”

Izzy swallowed. “It’s not what I want.”

“Well, you have a new question to answer if that’s the case. What do you want?”

The question set his brain alight with options. He wanted to feel like a human in his skin again, to not be scared of his own shadow, to live a fucking life again, too. To see Ed happy and not have it feel like a knife to his chest. To feel less fucking guilty over what he did to survive, to tell Edward Teach that yeah, he did some shit that was absolutely fucking monstrous but that didn’t make it so bad that his old right-hand man wanted to hide from the fuckups that led to the monster surfacing. He wanted to own up to the mistakes they’d both made and figure out where they stood, and close the distance, if there was a bridge to cross between them. He wanted to be absolutely certain he wasn’t poison. Tears welled in his eyes, and he growled to hold them back.

To not cry in front of you , either.

“To not feel terrified when I hear footsteps outside,” Izzy finally answered. “To fix my fucking brain, see if I can be around Edward without fucking things up again.”

“Then that just means we have work to do.”

“We have fuck all to do.” The work was in his own head, then with his—with Edward. That could happen as soon as he was ready. If Bonnet would withhold food for just a day, he’d get desperate and see Ed by force, he had to know as much. There was no we about fixing his fucking brain, he’d dealt with it alone for years, and he was doing… not great, but passably. Discounting the part where he came back to life, he had almost been at peace with himself and how his brain worked. It wasn’t great, but it worked. Scraping out rot took time, and work, and you had to make sure you didn’t have to replace anything vital after the rot was gone. Passable worked well enough for Izzy for the point he was at in his life.

“Do you want my help or not?” Stede asked, tone sharp as steel. “Because the point stands. It’s on your schedule, or you can go and live your life as you please if I’m not allowed to help you. If you want that, just tell me, and I’ll relay it to Ed and help him understand that it’s what you wanted. Don’t let that convince you either way, because it’s your decision to make, not mine or his. It’s about you and your needs, not keeping your life the same as it’s always been. Keeping things stable to the point of drudgery and utter misery is very overrated.”

Izzy tightened his jaw.

He knew what he wanted, it was just a matter of saying it.

 
“I want your help,” he managed, swallowing hard, ready for any chance of trouble, ready to pack his remaining belongings and run if it didn’t go how it needed to go. He was always ready to run. Maybe not so much in the strictly literal sense lately, but he could manage it. Bonnet wasn’t about to chase him anyway. “I don’t know what you think will work but—I want to at least hear about whatever you’re got up your fucking sleeve.”

Stede smiled and the stern look was gone, like he’d never been able to look so damn authoritative. “Good. I’m proud of you for saying that.”

“Don’t be.”

“Too late,” Stede replied, grinning so widely it looked painful. “Come back inside and we can talk about my idea.”

***

After the conversation was over and a plan was formed, Stede went into their bedroom to find Ed sitting on their bed, biting his lip anxiously.

“Is he alright?” Ed asked.

Stede smiled brightly, trying to help with his boyfriend’s dour mood. “Better than alright, we had another breakthrough. It took some arguing, and a bit of fighting with him on some of his points, but we have an understanding. He asked for my help today, as in actually asked, I didn’t force it on him like I've been having to.”

“Damn.”

“I know! This is when the real work starts, though. He wants to get used to being around you again.”

“He… does? I scared the hell out of him before.”

Stede’s smile widened. “It gets better.”

“Does it?”

“Mhm. I told him about what I've been considering, trying to get him to eat dinner with us again, slowly, giving him the out whenever he needs, with the promise I won’t leave him alone with you to start. And… he agreed to try it!”

“He agreed to that? What the fuck did you do to him? Did you replace Izzy with a different grouchy dick that agrees to things you suggest without me knowing?”

“Polite menace, that’s all. Not even a lot, just… enough to get him to figure out what he wanted. No replacing necessary.”

“And he wanted to fix the mess between me and him. I think you broke him. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t break him. I just got him to—to break himself, just a little,” Stede admitted.

“You’re a magician. I couldn’t dream of getting him to agree with me on anything besides admitting my ideas are like 30/70 bad to good ratio. So, when’s this big plan start?”

“Tonight.”

Ed choked and coughed. “You’re fucking kidding.”

“Nope. He said something to the tune of throwing himself into the deep end.”

“And soon so he couldn’t put it off. Same old Iz.”

“You’re alright doing this too, right? I sort of assumed but, you’re good to do it too?”

“Yeah. Worst case we eat dinner silently or he goes back to his room because I scared him again.”

***

Izzy knew saying yes was going to turn out horribly.

Dinner was always going to be a fucking ordeal. If the two of them were going to ever actually do the inn thing, outside of running it to house pirates who didn’t care about social graces and knew them both too well to say anything, they’d have to figure out a way to not make their victims—or willing clients— uncomfortable as they had dinner.

Time alone made them so goddamn attached to the other.

It was fucking weird, of course it was silent, Edward would never willingly talk to the man he’d nearly killed, and Stede… that was a surprise, really. A few months ago, Izzy would’ve said he’d pay good money to see him forced into silence.

Just not when it was that fucking eerie for him to be quiet.

Thinking about it, the idea was never going to work, not with Stede enabling everyone’s bad habits.

He’d have to tell him that if Ed didn’t have better ideas on how to unfuck the situation. They’d have to talk afterwards, with that shitshow of a conversation. Dead fucking silent, the pair of them exchanging looks the entire time.

Considering bad habits, or just… weird shit that he was pretty sure no couples normally did, Ed got a lot of attention over dinner.

The silence made it twice as obvious, the long glances Stede kept shooting Ed’s way, the fact Stede’s hand never really left Ed’s thigh. It made the tension that much fucking worse.

Considering the fact Ed had gotten downright fat since they’d retired…

Maybe they just lost their social senses after being alone for so long. Or alone enough to become that much worse of a couple.

Either way, it didn’t matter, he’d figure his shit out regardless, and Ed had issues eating enough for ages, especially when he didn’t feel like himself, and he hadn’t felt like himself in years, so it was better that he was eating. The attention was fucking weird, but the two of them were always fucking weird.

It didn’t matter. He convinced himself of the fact as he forced himself to stay in bed until he fell asleep, avoiding a non-lecture from Bonnet if he stole food again.

***

Dinner went agonizingly slowly, Stede trying to silently reassure Ed without being noticeably close to him, keeping his hand on his thigh or on his hand the whole time. Not scaring Izzy was the main goal, and that went… well enough, probably. They’d both see in the morning, if he was outside or stuck in his room again.

Finally, they had their time together.

But they had to talk about it, one way or another.

“So…” Stede started.

“Yeah,” Ed said.

“You feel okay?”

“As okay as any guy feels after they had dinner with another guy who should hate him and is giving him the silent treatment.” Ed shrugged.

“And that means?”

“It means I think it went okay. My expectations for him were on the floor, and he didn’t try to kill me.”

“You thought he would?”

“Not really. Kind of a best-case-worst-case thing? Best case was he talked at all, more than two words to the pair of us at least, worst case, he lunged across the table and slit my throat leaving you widow and widower in one lifetime,” he answered, grinning uneasily.

“Edward.”

“It was the worst case. Plus, you spend enough time with the guy, you see him slit a throat or two.” Seeing Stede’s deepening grimace, he amended. “Not that often. Makes a fuckin’ mess, all the blood that comes from it for starters. ‘Sides, he didn’t kill either of us, and sure as hell didn’t try.”

“True enough.”

“You think it went okay?”

“I think he’s doing alright in the general sense. He was outside this morning, so… he’s bound to be alright enough for the night. How long does his silent treatment usually last?”

“Days, sometimes. Depends on how long it takes for something that made him have to talk to me, piracy-wise. That was always when he was mad at me, though. Dunno how it is when he’s not mad at me.”

“And there’s nothing to be done here that’s strictly his job.”

“I keep thinking he’s gonna leave a note on the table saying that he’s never coming back.”

“You think he’d bother to leave a note?”

“Yeah. He loves getting the last word. I think he does it to annoy me.”

“True enough. He seems like he’s hesitant to leave, though. I’m curious why, but he wouldn’t talk to me about it even if I tried to ask.”

Ed was quiet for a while, like he was considering something, then he spoke. “Maybe he and I can talk.”

“You want to or was that a brainstorming, sort of throw anything at the wall idea?”

“I want to try. He’d probably rather be anywhere but here, even if he wants to fix this fucking mess between us, so, worst case… he leaves, I guess. Or we have another dinner like that but just him and me. You think he can handle it?”

Stede had to think about that. He wasn’t quite used to being an authority on Izzy and probably never would get all that used to the thought. “I think he’s stronger than you and I give him credit for.”

“Are you good to ask if he wants to? I mean, if he doesn't see me first tomorrow. I think he’ll talk to me, but if he was quiet because he was scared…”

“I’d be happy to. Now, are you in the mood for dessert?”

Ed shot him a look.

“Alright. Point taken.”

“Eventually you’re gonna learn the answer to Ed do you want sugar is always fuck yes I do.”

“I know it is. I just like to be sure. Besides, you like pushing my buttons in front of those perfectly nice people who work at the bakery in town.”

“Yeah, because someone gets all flustered in the cutest way every time I ask him if we need to get more pastries for the inn.”

"Because you’re a damn liar and you’re going to be eating the extra food we get from the places. I can’t help my imagination getting the best of me when you start it.” The doe eyed, ‘oh we probably should get a few more, right?’ Act never wore thin, especially when his eyes first sparkled with joy at the idea, and then at the color taking Stede’s cheeks as he agreed that yes, they did have a few guests who seemed particularly interested in their food and were staying for the weekend or week.

“You play the hapless innkeeper so well, babe. I can’t just let you get rusty with the act before we really open the place.”

It was only natural that the thought of Ed’s tongue darting out and glancing over his fingertips, greedily licking off any excess filling or frosting got distracting. Being directly beside and in front of his temptation brought the image to mind too often to act like it wasn’t a weekly occurrence. So of course, he got flustered and Ed poked fun at him in a good-natured way about how he was just so forgetful, as the bakery employee nodded along disinterestedly but politely about their joking and packed up the extra food that would doubtlessly end up adding to the new inches of Ed’s body that Stede loved to lavish attention on at every opportunity.

“If you weren’t so cute…” Stede playfully threatened.

“Too bad I’m adorable and you love me. I can annoy the shit out of you whenever I want, and you can’t do anything about it.”

“That you can. Lucky for you, I want to see you eat a little more tonight.”

“Might keep me from mouthing off if you feed me, too. Lots of potential bonuses.”

“Might. Although I like when you get like this.”

“I’ll be a terror on our guests,” he warned. “Leaving this unchecked might cause you problems down the line.”

“We have a guest right now, and he seems to like you alright. Past issues not included, I suppose, but he’s tolerating your presence and at worst ignoring your appetite.”

“Yeah, but he barely counts. We know him and he already has a decent tolerance built up for me.”

“I think he’s a decent test for how strangers would act around you, knowing absolutely nothing about either of us, or at the minimum knowing… a bit about us both. That just means we have to work to open the place, you know. Less time to be together if we have to fix things up. Also, we’d have fewer chances to do this, but I think we’re managing alright with our guest as it stands now,” Stede said.

“And Iz won’t make fun of us for having a perpetual work in progress of an inn if we decide not to open the place?”

Stede scoffed. “As if he’s not already disappointed in us both for our choices.”

Ed grinned, knowing he’d probably heard his complaints even before the inn. “Probably not that disappointed. He was good with me dropping piracy. Hasn’t looked annoyed in my direction in ages. He hasn’t looked my way at all lately, but it’s the small wins, yeah?”

“True. So, I owe you dessert. Think you can handle it?” Stede grinned, already well aware of the answer.

“Bet I can. If I can’t, I know a thing or two about this handsome innkeeper who’s very good at helping me finish damn near anything.”

“The same one who lets his co-owner embarrass him relentlessly in public, I bet. I hear he’s a persuasive one.”

“I have it on good authority he likes the teasing. He can deal with it anyway, because he loves his fellow co-owner enough to put up with his stupid shit forever.”

Stede sighed theatrically, forcing himself to get up and leave the room to get his dessert.

He found a knife, fork, and plate, then cut a slice of cake, trying to distract himself as he walked back by Izzy’s room. The door was shut, as it always was, and it was quiet.

It was late, sure, but it didn’t keep Stede’s brain from worrying about him. He’d been so damn quiet. He was always quiet but… it felt like any ground he’d gotten with him had eroded in a matter of hours.

Only one person I can talk about this to right now, Stede decided grimly, turning his back to the closed door and opening their bedroom door, seeing Ed’s eyes light up at the sight of the cake and then dim when he saw the expression on Stede’s face.

“You really think things went alright with Izzy tonight?” Stede asked, brow furrowed, skipping explaining why he was still concerned.

“Yeah. He’s not going to do anything stupid, he’s just quiet sometimes. It happened before all the shit happened; I think it’s just him being himself.”

“Right.”

“You’re sure you feel alright about how it went? He might talk to you, y’know. May still be awake if you wanted to debrief with him after all that. Usually doesn’t go to bed early, ‘less he had a late night.”

“No, I think I can handle him in the morning if I still feel like this about it. Sorry I’m stressing out about him. He’s not exactly filling me with confidence right now.”

“If he wants to leave, he will. I made peace with that again soon as I knew he was here. I’ve done things as small as skipping raiding a merchant ship and that made him stop talking to me for a week. One day won’t hurt.”

“A week?”

“He was mad about other shit at the time too, but yeah. Blew up about it, said something about how I wouldn’t listen to him, and that he’d just do us both a favor and shut up. It was ages ago, early in with the whole first mate arrangement.”

“He wouldn’t do that again, would he?”

“Nah, doubt it. I think you need a distraction.”

“A dis—”

Ed put the plate and fork on the side table, undid his shirt, and pulled it over his head, revealing his bare skin.

“Ah,” Stede said, mouth suddenly dry. “Distraction.” He got caught up in the details instantly, his silver-streaked curls resting on his shoulders, the utterly beautiful and completely distracting way his belly rested on his thighs, even when he wasn’t all that full, the softness of his chest too, every piece of him was a sight to savor, even if he saw him every day. Stede felt incredibly lucky to get that kind of distraction and it immediately served its purpose because there was zero chance he’d even breathe word of Izzy when he could see his boyfriend grinning widely, eyes glittering, utterly pleased with himself.

Ed lit up again, thrilled at the reaction he earned. “There you go. Perfect. Love when my plans work, I just wish they worked this well every time. Don’t stress about him, just for the night, please, babe. I don’t feel like he’s gonna do anything stupid, so you shouldn’t either. If he did, I think Buttons is still hanging around here in the worst case, so the point is we don’t need to think about that until the problems come up. Sure, he was silent during dinner, but the guy almost never talks that often. So, relax. Enjoy the night.” He squeezed his hand for good measure, and let go once he seemed relaxed.

“And my distraction.”

“Mhm. I can push you to give me attention just as much as you push me to eat more. Plus, you cut me this much cake, I think someone wanted a show,” he said, gesturing with his fork, after picking his plate back up and pointedly taking a bite.

Truthfully, he’d gotten lost in thought and cut him a little more than he meant to when he set out to get dessert. He also didn’t offer to share it with him. “Who am I to deny you? Especially when I get such a gorgeous distraction from my worries.”

 
“Ulterior motive,” Ed muttered.

“I didn’t start that, and you know better.”

Ed sighed playfully. “I know, it was my fault, I’ll own up to it. At least I get good cake out of it.”

“Mhm. What do you think will happen when we have real guests with a taste for sweet things and we keep doing this routine together?”

“We get more sweets and just say we have extra inn guests. Easy excuse.”

“True. I don’t think they mind at the bakery, we supply them with at least half of their business these days.”

Ed swallowed a bite of cake before he replied. “I think if they did give a shit, they’d call us on the lie by now.”

“True. It’s mutually beneficial anyways. You get all the sweets you can eat; I get to reap the benefits and, they get paid for their hard work.”

“Speaking of hard work, babe…”

Stede smiled gently. “Getting tired, are you?”

“Just thought you’d want to help.”

“Oh, I do. Our dinner guest kept me from giving you my undivided attention tonight and has been for a few weeks now. You know we’re going to have to explain some things if he catches on.”

“Yeah, we will, but we had an agreement.”

“We did. That’s the last time I’ll mention him, pirate’s honor.”

“Retired pirate’s honor, in case you forgot, we both quit the job. And we don’t have honor. Kind of the point of the thing, no honor among thieves and all that.”

“Retired pirate’s dishonor then, you stickler. Are you trying to get me to fill that mouth of yours?”

Ed laughed, a low rumble in his throat. “Mhm. You have so many options to shut me up, wonder what you’ll do when you’re cornered.”

“Just try me,” Stede shot back, taking the fork from his hand deftly, procuring a bite of cake and holding it up for him to eat. “There. Threat fulfilled. You’re lucky I’m not forcing you to take it, as uncooperative as you’ve been, toying with me all night.”

“What torture,” he replied, taking the cake happily.

“You asked for it.”

“So cruel,” he said around the bite of cake, even if he technically knew better. Manners were second priority to winding his boyfriend up just a little more. “No wonder you used to be a pirate,” he teased.

The stern look hadn’t gone away yet. “You’ll be finishing this, you know, regardless of my past line of work. Or yours, for that matter, because you can’t just ignore that when it suits your angle.”

Ed nodded, swallowing the bite with a happy sigh. He got another bite as soon as he looked back at Stede, eyes soft, a silent sign he wanted more.

Stede smiled, giving him what he wanted. “Never test me on a demand, darling. I can make good on threats like a professional.”

“So long as the vicious ex-pirate captain makes good on belly rubs after, I’ll do anything,” Ed said.

The stern façade was gone in an instant, melted by Ed’s persistence. “I can’t be that mean to you. You haven’t mouthed off nearly enough tonight to earn that.”

“Feeding me damn near half a cake,” Ed grumbled playfully.

“Is that a complaint I’m hearing? I can go back on it, you know.”

Ed grinned, licking some frosting off his lip. “No, Sir. I know how to behave.”

Stede chuckled. “Good. That’s what I like to hear, darling.”
 
“You’re too good to me.”

“You’ll always deserve special treatment from me, you know.”

“I know.”

“Almost done, love.”

Ed stretched slightly, restless. “Mhm. Getting as little harder now.”

Stede knew already, watching him he noticed he’d slowed down considerably. Stede took the opportunity to lay the fork down and touch him, as a short break.

His skin was warm, softness still evident even with as much as he’d eaten. He gently ran his thumb over a stretch mark, trying to relish his distraction before he gave him his full attention and before they went to bed.

“Gorgeous,” he murmured. “Absolutely beautiful, better every time I get to see you.”
 
Ed pushed himself into his hands, whining needily.

Stede melted at the noise, making a sympathetic sound of his own. “A bit more and I’ll really help, alright?”

Ed eyed the remains of the cake, and slid his hand onto his bare skin. “Yeah. I can take it, I think.”

His breathing was shallower than it was before, and his belly was resting very heavily on his thighs, rounded out in front of him. Stede may have gone too far, but he agreed, and that meant it was something he wanted. Besides, he looked so nice like that, it was hard to tell himself to stop trying to get one more bite into his mouth.

That view never got old, like the sun sinking into the ocean, the tiny details shifting every time, just a little, making every night unique. Ed’s thighs got a little thicker, his belly rested just a little more on those thighs, like the clouds lighting up with pink and orange as the sun went down.

The cake went down soon enough, leaving Ed panting under the weight of it.

Stede smiled, letting him lick the remaining frosting that he swiped off the plate from his thumb. “There you go, my love. All full?”

“A very convincing ex-pirate captain talked me into more than I thought I’d eat.” He rested his hand over his belly, and Stede laid his over it, soothing him. “So yeah, really fucking full.”

“Only because he loves seeing you push yourself that much further every night. I never get tired of seeing you come undone like this, you know. Always a sight to savor.”

“I bet you like it. You didn’t forget to make good on making me feel better, have you? And maybe you can help me get more comfortable? Pants’re… tight on me again.”

“Poor thing. Of course I will.” He undid his pants and helped him adjust while he adjusted his own spot on the bed so he could get closer to him.

“You’re the best boyfriend, you know that?” he asked, sleepiness evident on his face.

“I know, although I have some stern competition, there’s this handsome guy who adores dessert more than anyone I've seen in my life and loves food and attention so much he puts the saying about the way to the heart of a man into physical form. The way to your heart is absolutely through your stomach, even when we met. I think you’re the best boyfriend too, for what it’s worth.”

Ed grinned. “Damn good marmalade.”

“If I knew it was this easy to make someone happy, I’d have been a much less lonely person in my youth.”

“Just led you to me.”

“And what a gift that’s been.” He tried to soothe more of the ache, then snuggled close to him, a protective arm laid over his chest. “Feeling alright?”

“Full, but I’ll manage.”

“You can sleep, you know. I can tell I wore you out more than usual tonight.”

“Yeah. It’s the good kind of tired though.”

***

Izzy was sure he’d get killed within his first hours at sea if he went back to piracy in the sorry state he was in.

He was ambushed, in broad daylight, by Stede Bonnet. Again. As if he was anything close to stealthy, that was how fucking dire it had gotten lately. It wasn’t meant to be an ambush either, but his shoulders tensed just the same, arm paused halfway back like he was grabbing for a weapon when nothing was there. He dropped his hand and curled into a fist after he realized what he was doing. Stede paid it no mind, even if he noticed he was being nice about it.

“Hello,” Stede said.

Between the quiet knock that morning and the conversation about why dinner went horribly, which was determined to once again be no one’s fault in particular, even if it seemed like it was Ed’s fault for scaring Izzy accidentally and then Izzy’s fault for letting the nervousness fester in his brains like a rotting wound under the guise of refusing help.

Whatever mended Bonnet’s conscience, though. Like sneaking around in the middle of the day and watching him flinch like he was going to get hit and graciously apparently assuming he just did that now, cowering against his will like an abused dog. Terrified of even a gentle hand if it was raised just the right way.

Far from the first time his plans backfired, though.

Before he could clear his throat pointedly, Izzy glanced up at him, not bothering to get to his feet from his spot on the ground. “Keeping the peace again?”

Stede looked unfazed. “And wondering if Ed’s talked to you today.”

He’d been hiding out for the morning, so of course he hadn’t seen the fucker. He shook his head. “Why?”

“He had an idea last night, about mending things between you. I don’t make the best buffer between you, it seems, with how things went, so… he wanted to eat dinner with you. Alone.”

Izzy tightened his jaw. “Alright.”

“Alright as in… you want to?”

“Yeah. If it keeps us from having last night happen all over again, I’d do a lot.”

“Sure. Tonight, then? Unless that’s too soon, of course.”

“No. It’s a plan.”

“Great! Well, I’ll leave you to your… brooding, for the moment.”

“Good.”

Stede turned and left, to look busy somewhere else probably, leaving Izzy sitting with his back to the inn alone again, fighting his instincts all over again.

He was nauseous again. It wasn’t going to get any better before it got worse, he knew that. It just meant he had to sit alone with Ed and talk. Hopefully, he’d even talk without his chest hurting or his stomach churning.

Just dinner, alone, with a man he wanted to fix things with and had complicated feelings for.

Simple enough.

Chapter Text

In the hours of peace he had left, Izzy was sitting back in the spare bedroom, the one that felt more like his own lately, but since he wasn’t staying, it was the spare one, for guests.

He didn’t feel better about talking to Ed, but he sure as hell didn’t want another fucking lecture.

Non-lecture.

Bullshit.

There weren’t many ways to say he’d gotten past the whole try to kill the crew he kept after marooning half of them through relentless risky and downright stupid raids among the other shit he’d pulled. Men who wanted to die would usually try a different method, one that would work without failing, evidently it didn’t take for his old boss.

His old boss, the one who’d maimed him permanently. Multiple times. Because when you tell a man who’s furious with grief to get the fuck over someone he’s in love with, it doesn’t go well.

You also don’t fuck with a shark.

You also don’t expect the shark to want to say he’s sorry three times over.

It was going to be another new kind of torture.

And one he wasn’t even good at dealing with. Pain set his brain alight with pleasure and clarity, much as it could outside the bad memories.  A long and horrible conversation just made him want to shut down and never open his mouth again.

But still, Edward indirectly asked him to have dinner. Just the two of them, something they hadn’t done in ages.

Izzy liked having his meals alone, and before his retirement, Edward rarely ate regular meals. The habit worried him since they were in their teens and  twenties, and now…

It wasn’t something he wanted to consider.

He growled irritably, staring at the ceiling, hating himself and his circumstances.

Damn seagull, never learned to let things go.

He wondered, in his irritation, how bad Ed was feeling about the situation.

It wasn’t hard to imagine, he probably felt shitty about it, given the facts, and how he’d probably think he was dying without Stede at his side.

Clingy fuckers they were.

The sick part of his brain, the one that had gone soft after things went to hell, thought it might be nice, to be loved like that.

As if he had eyes for anyone lately, of course.

Except the ever-fucking-present thoughts he had in his deepest desperation, he still had a taste for the worse things in life, masochistic tendencies included.

He made peace with those ages ago, but the way he was turning it on himself was getting obnoxious. Especially about Edward.

Edward who he had to eat dinner with, probably with conversation included.

He didn’t mean to go quiet in front of them, there just wasn’t a way to start a conversation. He’d relied on Stede for their talks over dinner, letting him fill the silence and ask questions.

The hours slipped by, and he had to get up and talk to Ed. He couldn’t go into it being nostalgic for a time that didn’t exist anymore, that wouldn’t be right.

He saw Ed as he perked up for a second before he shrunk back down.

“Hey, Iz.”

“Edward.”

Ed walked to the kitchen silently, leaving Izzy to follow. It couldn’t be dinner and a conversation without dinner. It made a decent buffer between Izzy and Stede, so it may work again with Ed. Hopefully, anyway. It didn’t work before with both of them. Maybe they’d talk.

Izzy got his portion and sat back down, Ed sat across the table from him and dug into his food, still dead quiet.

At least he feels alright enough to eat, Izzy reasoned.

The distance across the table could’ve been a chasm, and yet, they were sitting there, close enough that if either of them reached out, they could touch the other.

That wasn’t going to happen, judging by the fact that three words were shared between them so far and it didn’t look like it’d be more than those three.

Until Ed spoke up, at least.

“So… didn’t feel like leaving yet?”

Izzy looked up at him, swallowing a bite of dinner. “You think I’m the type to draw this shit out? Have I ever given you that idea?”

“Maybe the times that you came back. You’ve never left, really. Too loyal to give it up, even if I was a lost cause.”

“Or if you’re doing better than I've ever seen you.”

Ed scratched his cheek and looked guilty. “Speaking of that, you’ve… noticed the whole… you know, right? The fact I don’t look so keen on starving myself to death.”

Izzy swallowed back the urge to brush it off and leave. Last time you tried to get him to eat, he took a toe. As per fucking usual. Except now he won’t, and he doesn’t think you know and you’re scaring him along with the guilty conscience look. Can’t scare your boss. “You’re talking about the fact that you look happy and like you’re eating enough food for the first time in… years, maybe. It suits you, don’t ask me to ruin it, I won’t do it.”

“I won’t, and thanks. You were being nice when you were ignoring the change.”

Izzy shrugged. “I noticed. I just didn’t think it was deadly, so I didn’t bring it up. Last time I tried to keep you alive, you took it like shit.”

Ed winced. “Sorry.”
 

Izzy glanced up at him, gaze hard. “For taking my leg, for terrorizing everyone you worked with, or trying to kill me along with people who used to trust you?”

“All of those. Listen, Iz, the shit I did to you, none of it was anything you earned. I hope you know that.”

“You know what your problem is, Edward? You know what it's always been? You care too much. It wouldn’t hurt you to say fuck that every once in a while. You should give up on me. Live your days out being happy for the first time in your life with your boyfriend, who loves you better than I ever could’ve. If I’m sorry for anything, it’s not realizing you needed to escape from piracy twenty years ago. Let the family pet die, Edward. He’s tired and getting older by the day. You already dug his grave, so let him die happy.”

“Izzy,” he managed.

“I’d leave if I knew I didn’t have to see you again, if I could have one fucking day where I didn’t even think about you, and how you were doing.”

“Israel Hands,” Ed snapped, dropping his tone the exact way he used to. It was his listen to me voice.

Damned if it didn’t work every time.

“What?” Izzy snapped back.

“I didn’t bring you back. And the grave was for you to have a scrap of fucking dignity, which you damn well know. Maybe I was returning the favor. Ever consider that one? Ever think that I wanted to make amends with you even if it was too late? That every day I saw that fucking grave marker I thought about my parents, and the hell my dad made my mom’s and my lives? Because I did. I still do. Even if it’s empty, I still keep thinking what if you pulled the trigger, and what if the gun went off. What if you made it and killed me, what if you took over in my place, and ran things as well and anyone with a fucking brain knows you could run things. The shit I did to you, its fucking identical to the abuse my mom went through. I didn’t have the decency to do my dad in and then learn my fucking lesson. That cruelty is in my blood, and I never realized it until I wanted to be better. It took hurting someone I cared about to realize that you never do that to anyone you care about. You don’t put your hands around someone’s throat or throw things at their head if you love them.”

“You haven’t hurt him, have you?”

“God, no. If I even think about it, I want you two to kill me. Mainly you, honestly, since he’s…”

Izzy snorted. “The infamous slayer of the most notorious pirate alive besides you. You already forgot, you sap. I don’t know if he’d do you in, but I didn’t think I’d help them kill you either.”

“You get my point, though. If that happens to me again, I don’t think there’s a way out of it besides killing me.”

“So you’d settle for murder.”

“That or I try to kill myself, but I can’t get that one right. So, about the way I tried to kill you and kill everyone else, I’m sorry. And for shooting you and making your leg get infected that badly. I knew you were there hiding out, just couldn’t face you after that. Couldn’t face myself, but I forced myself to, thinking you’d be furious with me enough to kill me.”

Izzy laughed. “Knew it.”

Ed blanched. “You knew?”

“Frenchie and Jim tried helping me out after you shot me, and then it got infected like it did. I could tell by how green they looked getting near me that the rot from the infection reeked, plus I smelled it being near the fucking thing. If you didn’t smell it, I’d be even more worried for your health.”

“Course you did. Same point as before though. I was never right to do that to you.”

“And you did it anyway and only said anything to me about it after it was over. It’s done with now, so what’s your angle? You want forgiveness or what?”

“I want to fix things between us, if that’s even possible anymore. I want to not scare you, mainly. I know I did before, when you froze up and panicked.  I wasn’t trying to scare you, if that wasn’t obvious.”

“And I wasn’t trying to scare you, so we’re even.”

“Since we’re even, what’s your plan after we fix things? You want to go back or..?

Izzy shrugged. “Eventually. That or I leave here and do whatever men with unfortunate injuries, a wooden leg and too many tattoos and scars to work normal jobs do.”

“Piracy then.”

“Or dying in a gutter somewhere.”

“If your plan is dying in a gutter, I’m gonna make Stede talk you out of it,” Ed threatened.

“A fate worse than death.”

“Which is why you’re not doing that. So, going back out. How d’you really feel about it? I know you’ll get itchy to leave sooner than later when we’re less tense and more friendly again.”

“It’s what I want to do, eventually. Right now, I need to figure my shit out, see if there’s really something I’d rather be doing. I don’t think running an inn is the way I’m going to go.”

“Not sure it’s even for me, you know.”

“But you’d go anywhere if Stede was with you.”

“…Yeah.”

“You’ve always been a sap, you know. I tried to break you of it, but still, just as sappy as the day we met.”

Ed smiled. “Like you’re better, the kid who shoved a piece of bread into my mouth and told me to quit crying ‘cause our boss would kill me.”

“And you said you’d rather die.”

“You kept trying to save me. Told you about my dad later on, and it all clicked in your head.”

“You told him about it too.”

“Had to. Someone was trying to make me kill him. And I was crying in his bathtub because I was terrified, you can’t really say nah, I’m all good let me just grab a knife and slice your guts open, especially now that you’re being so nice to me, as I was, again, crying in his bathtub.”

“And like always, I was going to finish the job you didn’t want.”

“And just like I always do, I fucked up your plans.”

“The best plan you could’ve ruined of mine.”

“You’re really warming up to him these days. What changed?”

“Two things, saw what we had—or didn’t have—rotting from the inside out, had an intervention about it, you know. Fang and Frenchie cornered me one day, early in, said my relationship with you was toxic. That was when I figured I could try to fix it, stupid as that was, your brain rotting from the inside by the day, because I told you to act like the man you never were. And then he helped me not die when I thought you’d kill me for lying to you or for being back in general. He helps you.”

“Wasn’t all on you.”

Izzy scoffed. “You and him, insisting that I wasn’t at fault half as much as I was.”

“Because—”

“Don’t.”

“it was a shared blame thing. He ran away, I got fucked up about it, and you were trying to help.”

“I said don’t,” Izzy growled.

“I almost never listen, and you forget that every time you try to stop me from saying or doing something you’d call stupid.”

“I don’t care who did it, I care about making it so that if I do go back to the revenge and stay there, it’s without the caveat that no, we won't see you two ever again, unless I really die again.”

“Fair enough. We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?”

“Sure do.”

“In the spirit of fixing this fucking mess, how was dying? I tried it pretty often, I’m curious what it’s like.”

“Miserable. It’s gray, and cold and here’s a damn seagull who tells you that it’s not your time to die, unless you really want to die.”

“And not Hornigold. Damn. I lucked out.”

“You had it too? Closer than I thought you ended up. Really I thought we killed you outright, then Stede was crying and look at you now. Happy and alive.”

“And you…”

“Alive. Working on the rest, if I’m allowed to.”

“Here I was thinking you’d want to die.”

“Bonnet’s told you awful things about me.”

“He’s been worried about you.”

“Because he’s assuming I’m you.”

“He never saw how I was, but if he did, I wouldn’t blame him.”

“And he thinks I’m eager to die. Bet you didn’t eat after I died. Probably scared your boyfriend shitless.”

“You haven’t gone on a hunger strike have you? I know I did, not on purpose but it happened. It did scare him, and until he asked if I’d eaten, I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“You never do. Not until after it’s over, makes you seem like a dick when it happens.”

“Seems like it happens a lot. Lucky I’ve got you, huh?”

“Real fucking lucky.”

Ed broke the silence again. “So… what’s it like dying?”

“That’s where you’re taking this? Maybe we do need Bonnet as a go between.”

“No! I mean, I’m really curious. I had some weird shit happen after you lot did the shit you did to me, nearly caved my chest in from how I felt waking up. You had to have had something happen. You died, mate. I only got halfway there.”

Izzy hissed irritably. “Fine. Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I’ll tell you what happened with me if you return the favor.”

“Fine. Woke up in some fucking awful gray place, cold and horrible. Then I heard a voice. Fucking seagull, the man Bonnet had that we all thought you killed.”

Ed furrowed his brow. “Wait, you thought I—”

“I didn’t think you killed Spriggs, then he was gone, same with Ivan, except he didn’t come back after a few months. I figured it was what happened with you now, killing people sometimes lying about swearing to never do anyone else in but your old man. Then I saw the fucker, as a seagull. He said dying is harder. I still think he’s full of shit, but here I am, not dead.”

“I got off easy then. I only saw our old boss, tried to kill him, probably ten times, and he kept getting back up. Then I said fuck this I’m leaving and couldn’t leave. Then Hornigold, like he used to, tried to kill me.”

“I prefer the seagull. He didn’t try to kill me.”

“I made it out alright after everything.”

“Why’d you ask what it was like if you had the same thing happen?”

“I wanted to know.  Now you can ask a shitty and invasive question. Only fair if I let you have one.”

“Fine. Do you want me to stay? Not because you feel bad for me, or because you fucked up my chances at a normal life, as if I didn’t do that one by myself, or because you think I want to die. Do you want me here?”

“I want you to feel okay with how things end up.”

“That’s what I knew you’d fucking say. God, since when are we this predictable?”

“Do you want to leave?”

“Part of me always wants to. It comes from running away from home to try to join the military or whatever the fuck keeps you alive, and not dead in the street, and ending up a goddamn pirate.”

“Figures. You know they’d be damn lucky to have you as their boss.”

Izzy scoffed. “From the man who retired for love.”

“I think I can tell when someone’s good at the work. I did it too, liked it until I got bored.”

“And tried to die in the process.”

“Didn’t start that way, y’know. It started with stupid risks that paid off, kept you happy with me, so I kept doing it not knowing why. Then I started thinking hey, I’m fucking tired. And you just said—”

“Pirates die.”

“And I tried that.”

Izzy sighed, knowing they couldn’t drop the issue and eat dinner in silence anymore. “Edward…”

“I know you feel bad about it now. You don’t have to act all sorry about it, I needed the kick in the ass, it was so I’d make it out of that shit alive. It wasn’t just on you. I had a hundred chances to tell you I was done, and I decided I wanted to die instead of telling you exactly what I wanted to do that wasn’t dying. I get how it freaked you out. I’ve had my moments of making stupid decisions out of nowhere for bad reasons. I know you want to protect me, ‘cause it was your job, a job you did a really good job at doing. You just didn’t go about it the best way most times.”

Izzy smiled wryly. “Like maybe hiding out and then refusing to say a word over dinner so long as we weren’t alone?”

Ed smiled back. “Like that. Some things never change do they?”

“Apparently not.” Except you. Changing without me, because I clearly haven’t ever been enough for you. Wouldn’t eat for me and with that fucking prick… not to say it didn’t work on me.

Ed frowned. “I had you looking calm, and now you’re tense again.”

“Spent a long time being tense, it’s not just on you.”

“You weren’t, then I did what I apparently always do to you. You don’t have to stay. Me and Stede are capable adults, we don’t need a handler.”

 “I know you both are. I’m staying for now because someone has to fix whatever the fuck we did to each other. If I go back to the Revenge, it’ll be a pain in my ass every time they stop by if I can’t walk in and talk to you and Bonnet like it’s normal between us.”

“And because you’re convinced you can’t do it.”

And because I’d miss you if I didn’t get closure. Even if every nerve I have that’s intact after years of living with you says I need to get the fuck away. I want to feel okay around you again. Because of how I feel.

That was what he would’ve said, anyway. Instead, he took his brain and heart out of the conversation.

“It’s staying with them, or I find a warm ditch somewhere to die in. I don’t have it in me to find a new crew.  it’s a pain to try to do that, especially if you and Bonnet found a decent group between you, and trained the bad behavior out of them already, and they know how I work. If I want to break this off, it has to be clean.”

“I get it. Although a clean break would’ve been leaving the second you came back, instead of hiding and making Stede lie to me about you being alive. We could’ve heard horrible stories about a vengeful ghost captain running the Revenge.”

“That’s your kind of stupid plan.”

Ed smiled wryly. “And instead, it’s vengeful ghost who haunts the inn he was buried next to.”

“Can’t deny vengeful on the English, but not you. I wasn’t happy with you, the shit you did, but I didn’t hate you, still can’t bring myself to.”

“Is that why you’d always quit then come back after a few days like nothing happened?”

“If it was?”

“Years of our lives make sense. Stede and I missed you, you know, along with the crew, that’s also why we buried you here. It was for your dignity, along with us being selfish, although Stede claims the selfish bit of the ordeal. Most pirates don’t get a real burial. Mainly it’s mass graves or death and instant burial at sea. I used to figure they’d take a trophy off me, you know. They don’t need to now. Although they probably have, some unrelated guy who wasn’t lucky. They usually say I look like any other guy, when they look fucking identical. Probably found some guy with long hair and beard and said that’s the guy.” Ed paused, chewing a bite of his dinner. “You think we can be friends again?”

“I think we’re getting there.”

“This is going better than I thought it would. Been a decade since we had this kind of conversation without trying to argue.”

“Just took you dropping piracy. That caused the fights. That and a lack of Stede keeping you from killing us, apparently. Mainly I think it’s that he loves you too much for you to take stupid risks with your life these days.”

Ed flushed. “He’s better than I think I deserve.”

“I wanted you to be happy, you know. I wanted you alive at the end of the day and happy. Just never realized how selfish my idea of happiness was. You look better when you’re with him.”

“You really like him.”

“I like when you aren’t trying to commit murder-suicide,” Izzy clarified.

“I heard Stede heard about us when we were younger. He liked hearing it from you, far as he told me, although I think it was the short version. Still trying to protect me, twenty years on.”

Izzy groaned. “God. He told you? I walked into that one.”

“He was nervous to ask me, I think. For good reasons, I wasn’t eager to bring it up with the bad memories, and then he’s met Anne and Mary, so it wasn’t like he had a good image of who I was back then.”

“And Jack. No thanks to me meddling in your business on that one.”

“It’s about where you were coming from. I bet you’d agree with his thoughts on Jack.”

“Of course I would. Especially now.”

“See? You two have so much in common now. Bet you don’t even hate Stede like you used to.”

“As if I can hate anyone who makes your eyes light up like that.”

Ed bit his lip. “You deserved a better captain than I ever was.”

“That just means we’re even. You deserved a better first mate than me. I didn’t follow orders for a stretch there.”

“Because the orders were terrible. I tried to make Jim kill their… whatever the new girl had with them. Of course you all fucking mutinied! I deserved it.”

“And the man who told you to quit pining was right to do that?”

“No, but I think he knows that now. We both fucked up, can we leave it at that?”

“Soon as it stops coming up.”

“Hard to talk about things when the whole business is half of what broke it.”

“Glad you don’t feel like killing yourself anymore, Ed.”

“Thanks. I wish I could say the same for you, but it sounds like we’ve got work to do before you get there.”

Izzy shrugged. It wasn’t a we kind of issue to fix. It was a you and you alone problem to solve. It was in his head, not anyone else’s, besides, he didn’t really want to die, it was more of a last resort to preserve the dwindling supply of his dignity. “I don’t want to die, you know. I’m just not sure if I've got space at sea anymore. We can talk about that shit later.”

“I will make Stede talk you out of doing anything stupid,” Ed threatened, and for a moment, fleeting, the old look was back, not the dead-eyed look but the sparkle of a man determined to get his way.

Izzy grimaced. “That’s worse than dying.”

He grinned. “Exactly. When things’re better between us, or whenever you feel like leaving, you can go. No locks on the doors. But how d’you really feel about it? I know you’ll get itchy to leave or do anything else after a while.”

“It’s what I want to do, in… probably a few months if we keep talking about everything.”

“You do know I never got tired of you, right? It was that I was tired of the job and living every day if that was going to be my life that made me shitty.”

“And there’s a difference?” Izzy spat. “You have no fucking idea how hard it was to keep you alive if you really think I could tell that was why you got furious with me for keeping you alive.”

“I had a long time of being bored. It wore me down, and then I thought maybe if I took risks I’d sort of… end up dead accidentally. You liked my risky bullshit ten years back, I thought, so if something happened… so be it. Then you started picking up on the stupid risks and pushed back on me trying to die. It’s nice that you think I look happier. I think I am happier, living like this.”

Without you getting in his way, his brain noted.

Ed bit his lip. “So… you want to do this again, give me another shot at not being a dick to you?”

“May as well, since your boyfriend is trying to crack into my brain these days when he used to want me dead and out of his way.”

“Thanks, Iz. I don’t think I would’ve given me a second chance.”

“Blame Stede, or this place, making you go soft like you are now. You’re different than you were, that’s why I’m trying to figure out how to untangle this fucking mess between us. I want to do this again, under one condition. So long as Bonnet doesn’t complain that I’m stealing you from him, I’ll keep talking. Hell, maybe next time he won’t have to stay in your bedroom alone.”

Ed lit up. “Really?”

“You’ve known me this long and think I can lie to you like that?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“Not lying, I really do want to fix this.”

“That’s… thanks, Iz.”

Izzy ignored that and finished the remains of his dinner.

“Good night,” he said, getting up and leaving his dishes in the kitchen.

Ed smiled tightly, watching him leave. “Night, Iz.”

***

“Well, I only fucked it up a little at the beginning and end,” Ed said as soon as he walked into his and Stede’s bedroom.

“Did it go okay otherwise?” Stede asked, sitting on their bed, brow furrowed.

Ed sat next to him. “Went great until I opened my mouth and tried to talk to him.”

“Is he okay?”

Ed shrugged. “Same old Iz. He wants to fix things, and you can eat with us next time, if you want to. under one condition, you’re not allowed to think he’s taking me from you.”

“I am not— maybe I’m sort of the jealous type. But so are you. I didn’t take him to still feel that way.”

“Huh?”

“So you don’t think he has feelings for you still?”

“I think we were friends, then he hated me, but I don’t even know if we were actually friends at any point. I didn’t really know the feeling he had was romantic at all. You heard about him and me, you think we were friends?”

“I haven’t had many friends before, but I don’t think my old bullies and enemies would sleep outside just to get the nerve to apologize.”

“And if things were reversed, I’d kill me. He should want me dead, Stede.”

“I heard what you did and I—”

“I didn’t hurt you like I hurt him. I hurt you more emotionally than physically shooting you and letting you rot. He really wants to fix this shit. What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“This is what you wanted. You wanted to talk to him, hear from him what he was thinking. You’ve apologized for what happened, it’s on him to decide what to do with the apology.”

“And his answer is act like nothing happened.”

“The crew—”

Ed sighed heavily. “They don’t know me like he does. They ignored me anyway, so why won’t he?”

Stede took his hand gently and squeezed. “Can I offer advice or is it going to end in a fight?”

“I need to hear it, I’ll try not to argue.”

“Good. I think he really does have some lingering feelings for you. I don’t think he’s willing to act on them, he hasn’t yet, but… at the end, before I came back, before the mutiny. He said he told you he loved you. I think he still does.”

“Why?”

“You know as well as anyone that love isn’t a reasonable feeling to have. Makes people want to fake their deaths, sail to China and start a new life, or fake their death alone after a series of not ideal events, and find the man they love to apologize for the not-ideal events,  even if he doesn’t love him back, or if he’s being stubborn and won’t tell him how he feels for months. It won’t make sense, sweetheart. It just sort of… happens. He may not still, and I may be wrong, and he may just want to be your friend again like when you were young, I think that’s a fair reaction.”

“He said I looked happier. That being soft like this suited me.”

“Because you do, and it does. What frustrated you about tonight?”

“It was too good. I don’t deserve—”

“He doesn’t care about deserving things. He knows what he wants, and he’s going after it the only way he knows how.”

“You know how I acted before we met? He wouldn’t have told you, and I sure as hell haven’t, he’s dead set on not ruining the idea of me for you and I didn’t really know I was doing it until I wasn’t anymore. It’s probably because he ruined the idea of me for himself. I wanted to die, Stede. I was trying in every way but actually gutting myself with a knife, or taking a gun and shooting myself outright. I was taking stupid risks, chasing down all kinds of stupid ideas when I saw them. I didn’t have anything I wanted to live for, since I was, you know… One of if not the most infamous pirates alive at the time, so nothing was fun or a struggle to get through anymore. I didn’t have anything to go after besides death. I was bored and taking stupid risks because I was done, didn’t see a way out of it and didn’t want to be in it anymore.”

Stede swallowed, taking in the information. “And you heard about a stupid and impressive failure of a pirate. A hopeless case. Figured… you’d kill him, take his life as your own and find the fun that way. Didn’t work out for you that way, but that was the original plan.”

“The guy who told me to go suck eggs in hell and pissed off the Spanish, and Jackie, and everyone he met, give or take, he seemed like he had something going on.”

“Except the pirate he insulted to his first mate’s face didn’t take the insult to heart. He took a liking to that idiot. Saved his life, creating the plan you had in mind.”

“That guy saved my life, though, taught me even the boring day-to-day can be fun if you like who you’re around while it happens. Folding things is sort of nice if you’re not thinking about tomorrow and a hundred things all at the same time. That’s also why I couldn’t kill him. I was probably in love with him then, but when you cry in a guys bathtub and he treats it like a normal night when I dumped my trauma into his lap unceremoniously and said I was supposed to kill him and he said he was my friend, and he lights a ship on fire for your dignity, it’s hard not to love him. He’s a fucking lunatic, but you love that about him more than anything.”

“Ed…”

“It’s true. The whole time Iz and I argued, it was mainly because I wasn’t happy with my life. Starting out it was also because I was a little shit who wasn’t listening. Now I am happy, though, and he’s still convinced that he and I can bond. I expect the worst from him, and I keep feeling like a dick when he proves me wrong. I thought my appetite would scare him, and he didn’t mention it, outside me making sure he wasn’t going to be awful to me about me wanting to eat.”

“Which he would never mind, would he?”

“Stupid of me to assume he would. To be fair, I didn’t eat when I didn’t feel like myself then too. Probably better that I can live my life without making him worry about me.”

“I expected him to be mad at me.”

“Ed, you know as well as I do that he knows what happened. He got onto you for my fuckup, and you retaliated. He knows you didn’t do it just to watch him get hurt. I didn’t mean to get him shot and then no one meant to let him bleed out.”

“And he didn’t want to come back.”

“But he did anyway. He can deal with it until he leaves, right now, he’s under our roof, so our rules, including no suicide planning, which he’s not doing anyway.”

“What if I fuck it up and he dies again?”

“Did you ask him if you were fucking it up?”

“No. I know you have a good answer that isn’t talk to the guy who hates me. I want that answer. Please,” Ed said, eyes shining.

“I think if you ruined everything and burned every bridge with him, he would have left. He stayed outside for a month, love, he doesn’t want to leave without mending your friendship.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t think he cares what you think about it. He wants to, and he’s going to want to fix things whether you like it or not. I don’t think this is something we can sort out in one night, though. Mind If we put a pin in it for the night?”

“No. Sounds good,” he mumbled.

“Then we can just sit, talk about anything else if you feel up for it. Sound okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be, just come here. I can talk to him tomorrow, if needed.”

Ed nodded, and settled in close to Stede, head on his chest. Stede took a gentle hold on his belly, keeping him where he was. Ed could hear Stede’s heartbeat, and that was enough for the night, it grounded him enough to feel a little more peaceful.

Whatever happened, it could be solved in the morning. For sure.

***

Izzy dropped a plate on the floor from his bed, groaning quietly, to not wake the ever-happy couple. Ed used to be a light sleeper, and he’d probably investigate anything that kept him up. If he got caught by him, he’d be mortified.

As full as he was, glutted on indulgence he never allowed himself, and he was still worried for the sake of Edward Teach.

He worked his shirt off gently, to not agitate any part of his body or snap any seams accidentally. He wasn’t that overfull, but he knew he didn’t feel like getting new clothes again, stolen or otherwise, and the shirt was clinging to his skin too tightly to be comfortable.

He knew he’d get another not-lecture from Stede fucking Bonnet in the morning, or he’d graciously forget it happened and bring it up when he knew it proved his point, just to win an argument.

Either way, what’s done was done, and he would deal with his fucking consequences after he got caught.

Sneaking around like a teenager, stealing food of all things. He was getting boring. That was almost as nauseating to think about as the actual nausea churning in his insides.

He overdid it. on purpose, and it was stupid, but it didn’t feel like he was fixing anything before he tried to shut his brain out from considering everything that was happening. After he finished the food, he mainly just felt like he was lying on his side, ignoring how he felt.

It didn’t even go badly; he just couldn’t sleep. His fucking brain wouldn’t stop circling around the issues he couldn’t solve, so he did what worked last time. To be fair he was tired, but he was tired before he snuck into the kitchen again.

It was becoming a habit.

A bad habit that Stede fucking Bonnet would notice instantly. He caught on last time, he probably would again. His boyfriend probably picked it up first, unless it was his doing that Edward had gotten fat lately, and he wasn’t about to consider that happening while he was still completely fucking miserable.

And along with that, he couldn’t stop wondering if he was still in love with Ed. He’d been obsessive over him for years, ignored until it festered into a toxic need for him that went so sour he had to have a fucking intervention about it just out of his boss’ earshot. Blackbeard was intoxicating, something he could focus his energy on, forgetting that it wasn’t who Ed was deep down. The idea lost its appeal around when he got shot by the monster, maybe before that, actually, around when he started taking toes as punishment, after forcing the first down his throat, which still made him feel sick to remember. The fondness hadn’t come back since, until, apparently, Edward was so in love with his boyfriend it reminded him of how he was when they were twenty years younger.

He thought he’d lost his taste for him, and resigned himself to being lonely outside of his work, but it evidently wasn’t in the cards anymore. Between the way he couldn’t bring himself to make the clean break, it was getting messier by the day he stayed in the goddamn spare bedroom.

What he had was rotten, and you cut infected things off, replace the lost flesh with something less infectable later, once the scars heal up, and the infection doesn’t come back.

Or, barring that, when it’s all more than you can handle and you can’t fucking sleep, you pick up a new habit. Like eating and waiting for the inevitable ‘you can’t just starve yourself to death, Izzy’ speech.

He wanted to fuck with him anyway. Turn the I’m not mad at you conversation into a real lecture. He wanted to be told off for doing what he did, stealing food, eating it alone like he was digging through scraps and garbage for what was edible. It wasn’t normal, for damn sure.

It would’ve warranted a lecture at sea, he was fucking up supplies that were kept track of. Knowing Bonnet though, he’d react with worry over irritation wherever they were.

His fingertips ended up on the raised scar from when he got shot. He froze, forgetting the scar had been there at all. He sat up a little more and looked at it, halfway expecting it to start seeping blood again, just to rip the hope out of Ed’s chest one more time.

It looked clean still, and mor importantly healed up enough it wasn’t infected and shouldn’t bleed again. Seagull did good patching him up. So clean of a job he forgot the thing was there at all.

It just reminded him of his mistakes all over again.

So, he moved his hand, and ignored the issue.

Instead, his brain centered on the next point of interest.

He palmed the softness that lingered on him. His pants were digging into his skin. They used to almost be loose.

Then Bonnet assumed he had more appetite than he did, and broke his brain.

And then, because things always got worse before they got better, he saw Edward again, softer than he’d been in his life.

It suited him perfectly, and it made him more nauseous to think that he’d never been enough to make him feel safe enough to look that way. There was a slight touch of softness before, but it wasn’t half as impressive as it was now.

Izzy wanted to touch him. Sure, he couldn’t breathe very well without his insides sending pain through his body, but that wasn’t the reason he’d eaten so much.

It was half of the reason, since pain at least used to give him some clarity, seemed like it still did, at least halfway. He couldn’t keep the image of Ed out of his head.

Izzy had eaten like that before, more out of knowing that Hornigold would starve them all if he didn’t eat enough while they were allowed. It didn’t fog his brain over as much back then, probably because he was getting old.

Or it was because he had the image of Ed stuck in his brain, the way he looked now, grinning like an idiot, happy and fat and fucking someone else.

That just made Izzy think about him more.

What if he could still be around his boss like he used to, and if he could, how would he take being fed by him? Indulging his boss with what Izzy’d call his worst habits, watching him eat like he wanted to be full, glutting him utterly, letting him indulge in whatever sweets he could get his hands on, and still being under his control, Ed asking him for more… the softness of him, filled out so well—

It was too much to let himself think about. Not if Ed wasn’t his to take care of, since he never was.

A groan escaped his throat again, needy in its intensity.

He needed to get the fuck out of their inn before the two of them killed him.

Chapter Text

Laying on a bed in a half functional inn’s spare bedroom waiting to die wasn’t the way Izzy wanted to spend his days.

And yet, that was how he spent a lot of his time.

He couldn’t help it, he didn’t know what else to do. On the Revenge, he had a running list of shit to do in his head at all hours. It was lengthier and more intense on the Queen Anne’s, managing Ed more directly.

He was living aimlessly regardless of how things used to be, waiting on his brain and body to be on the same page as the other, ending up exhausted by even short conversations.

Things were at least going alright with Edward, they’d taken to a meal alone with the other once a week, and he usually ate with Stede too, with lighter conversation, Stede taking up most of the evening with whatever they’d been working on.

They’d gotten things done, in small parts, fixing up walls, painting, fixing floorboards. To their credit, they were being productive.

Productive doing things Izzy wasn’t supposed to help with, since he was a guest. He also wasn’t ever in charge of keeping a house together, so he had no skills that would really help.

His newfound boredom, of course, meant he had new habits. Or less than new habits that kept happening. He stole food more regularly, especially after eating with Edward.

Their meals weren’t going badly, it was that he couldn’t fucking get the idea of the man out of his head long enough to get any peace and sleep.

It was going so well that Ed caught him smiling once, an expression that felt alien to his face the instant he brought it up. Ed didn’t mention his expression after fucking it up the first time, and he didn’t make it a point to smile. He didn’t feel awful about talking to him, so maybe he was smiling again. He felt alright, until he left him to go to his bedroom with Bonnet.

The same fucking image stuck in his brain, an imagined one, Edward, his old boss, the way he looked now, fat and happy with his life, but in the way he sues to serve him. The moments he’s gotten tired of finding his meals cold after pestering him for hours to eat something before he starved to death. They had food, plenty of it, so he should eat without worrying about it.

Sure, it wasn’t good food like they had in the inn, but it was edible.

The daydream played out the same way, Ed begging for more and squirming under him like he wanted his affection.

Moments like that made him glad that no one would ever barge into the spare bedroom he stayed in, unlike any ship he’d been on.

Even then, he missed it.

But, every time his thoughts wandered to the crew, he hesitated.

He never used to hesitate. He’d been gone for months, gotten… not all that used to life on land but life in the inn and the food they had there. They’d make him captain, no fucking doubt, unless they found anyone else, the way bonnet did, magnetically attracted to trouble. He’d fuck it up, that was the problem.

The other problem, with the hesitation that would kill him, was he kept thinking about how he died. Bad luck to fuck around with ghosts, Frenchie would mention that. They’d keep him, sure, but how long does anyone keep the aging guard dog who can’t quite move fast enough to keep himself safe, much less the people he’s meant to protect?

He had nowhere else to go but a timely grave, and he’d already gone there. He had the scar to prove it.

And softness that lingered because of his bad habits and inability to tell himself no to prove he’d probably get killed again if he went back.

They’d pity him, pathetic and crippled by the man he loved.

The man he still loved, especially when that man was standing in a different light than the sun reflecting off the ocean.

The man who loved that fucking prick of a half assed pirate, too. The light in his life, with the smile to prove it.

Retired pirates, that was what fucked things up more than before.

He’d gotten past the jealousy and hatred, since Stede was better for him than anyone else, Izzy included. It just stung that he never could snap his old boss out of his problems after he thought he’d gotten dumped because Izzy had officially lost his chance with the man, even after he painfully admitted to his feelings and tried to kill himself before the gun slipped from his temple and he’d later staggered to the deck and helped everyone kill the man he had feelings for.

And all he could do about how he felt was sit in the spare bedroom and wonder if he’d ever be comfortable enough to go back to sea.

***

Izzy was trying to find some time and peace to be alone when he saw Stede, kneeling in the grass, pulling weeds out of some dirt. He stopped, mainly because of the things he thought Bonnet would do, pulling weeds was not one of them.

“You want help with… whatever that is?”

“Hi, Izzy. You’re offering?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’d rather be a hundred other places than next to me, doing a hundred other things than cleaning up what will be a flowerbed. And you’re not doing that because your deal with Ed keeps you from doing those things. You could find him, he’s somewhere around.”

“its not always him keeping me from going back out.”

“Nervous to see the crew again, then, or..?”

Izzy sat, agonizingly slowly. “Leg doesn’t make me too confident that I’d be useful.”

“Says the man who stole every candle on the ship for blade practice not too long ago. You’ve acclimated to using it just fine, far as I can see.”

“Can’t run.”

“And how many problems do you have that can’t be gutted?”

Izzy tore at the overgrown grass, irritated and regretting his decision. “Ricky, the prick, apparently he’s fucking immune to the idea of death, and Edward, and you. Three at least.”

“Well, two of those problems rather enjoy not being stabbed or gutted like unlucky fish. According to one of the problems anyway. I think the crew would help you with the third. Plus…”

“Fuck you.”

“Was that ‘yes Stede, you won our duel handily, despite having only half a week of training’? It sounded a lot like that to me.”

“You won on a technicality,” Izzy spat. “If we redid it now, you’d be dead.”

“And there’s your use right there, you’re still a very confident swordsman. Lacking in social charms, certainly, but you’d be a good captain nonetheless.”

“Who died,” Izzy muttered.

“Who got a second chance at life, after dying. It was my plan that killed you, anyway, stupid and risky as it was. I didn’t know he’d get the gun, or that he’d turn it on you, or that we’d not be able to treat you fast enough.”

“If I was faster, I’d be there still, after you two fucked off because they all hated your boyfriend’s guts after the mutiny.”

“So, you’re throwing the idea out entirely because of that small of a mistake? One that wasn’t even your fault? You pissed Ricky off, sure, but he deserved that by my count.”

“When you die doing stupid shit, you don’t try it again. That’s what you’d do.”

“I was passable as a pirate, given some time and training. Why is it a bad thing to be me?”

“You should have died.”

“Ah. You’re frustrated today, aren’t you? Went out for some air and to walk off the irritation with whatever’s really on your mind and you found me instead. You also want a fight. Here’s the argument you wanted Izzy: I think you’d be a damn good captain, and you refuse to recognize that. If I were in your situation, I think I’d leave. I honestly would’ve left much faster, but according to my own past, I seem to run away from my problems a lot. Hell, if piracy doesn’t work out for you, maybe you can try gardening.”

“No. It’s not my hobby, it’s yours.”

“Worth a try. Well, is this the time when I have to realize I've pushed you too far and you’ll choke me to death or are you up for more arguing?”

Izzy shrugged, going after more of the grass.

“Classic, the third option. Silence. Can you humor me, then?”

Izzy was still tearing plants up by the root, refusing to reply. It should’ve been the answer, but he continued like he’d agreed.

“Silence is its own answer. I heard that plenty, refusing to speak when my tongue got me in trouble. It’s especially damning when the question is why you won’t be a better son for us and stop causing this family trouble, they want you to say something. Otherwise, your father, in an impressive show of force, pulls you by the arm so hard it feels like your shoulder may have dislocated and you’ll need to lie to the doctor that you fell and try not to cry from the pain, because crying always makes that sort of thing worse. I wouldn’t do that to you, of course, but there is one thing I need you to hear me out on. And as per usual, silence is answer enough to make me keep talking.”

“I've been putting up with you.”

Stede brightened slightly. “Good. Even talking back now, that makes this a conversation again. I’m not trying to break you.”

“Seems like you are. It’d be easier on you if I left, no one to keep you and Edward decent around each other.”

“I try to let you have your peace.”

“It doesn’t help when every nerve in my body is tense because it thinks something is going to happen.”

“Ah. That’s normal.”

“Doesn’t feel normal, you and him being so goddamn calm about all this. Talking like it’s always been this way,” Izzy grumbled.

“Have you considered that we’re trying to make you feel like a welcome presence here?”

“No. Why would you act like that?”

“That’s part of what you need to hear. Ed cares about you a lot, and I do too. He cares so much that he’s torn in two directions about how to talk to you again. He wants to talk to you but… he doesn’t know how to do it without accidentally scaring you. You still being here is like you saying you want to mend things, because you’re here, talking to me of all people, sitting relatively calmly.”

“He’s never been like this in his life. As long as I've known him, he’s never been relaxed like that. You broke his brain. Not in a bad way, not really. I don’t mind what you did to him lately, it’s a good change, especially after he tried to kill me, and himself. It’s fucking weird though, both of you being nice to me. It was weird when everyone else was too, but they saw what was happening with him and me, it could’ve been pity with them. you two I don’t know what it is. Can’t get used to it.”

“You’re going to have to try, because as long as you’re here, you’re stuck with Ed and I trying to make you feel comfortable staying for as long as you’d like. Your troubles aside, he and I both had our share of issues adjusting, I’m sure Ed still does. It’s odd, waking up to peace and quiet like this. But, you’ll have to get used to it, because again, if you’re so hellbent on having nowhere better to be, this is your home.”

Izzy scoffed. “Haven’t had a real home since I was a teenager, Bonnet. I’m used to it. I’m not used to Edward acting like a person who’s not on some level miserable. I don’t care if I’m supposed to feel welcome, I don’t want to be.”

“You can leave. He won’t backslide just because you’re gone again. that’s still not my main point, though.”

“What’s the point?”

“Well. Do you promise to not try to kill me if I make a pretty massive assumption?”

Izzy shrugged in reply, and dug his fingers into the soil, trying to tear another weed out by the root.

“You still love him, don’t you?” Stede quietly asked.

The weed came out all at once, making Izzy reel, alongside what Stede said like it was perfectly normal to suggest you were still in love with his boyfriend. “What?”

Stede was utterly unfazed, still going after the weeds like he asked how the weather was. “You and Ed. You’ve been friends for, what, twenty years? I’d think you’d have some kind of fondness for him.”

“Sure, but—”

“But nothing. You love him. One more thing?”

“What?” he spat. He’d be standing if his fucking legs worked the way he needed them to, but willpower didn’t make his body work right.

“I’ll say this just once, Israel. I don’t mind sharing his attention, or his affection, especially not with you.”

Bile rose into his throat. Something disgustingly sticky seeped out from the broken leaves of the weed and onto his still-clenched fist.

Izzy stood abruptly and threw the crushed plant into the pile. “Right. Enjoy your fucking gardening.”

Stede grimaced. “Izzy—”

“Save it for Edward,” Izzy spat, turning and leaving.

***

Stede didn’t have the willpower to keep working much longer after his stomach sank at the sight of Izzy furiously walking away.

He asked Ed about keeping plants outside after living a while at the inn, figuring at first they’d grow food, and be practical with the space, but they more or less had that sorted out, local shops had food anyway, but Stede was still set on having some sort of plants growing outside.  

Then, he realized two things: one he was an adult with a loving boyfriend who was loathe to judge him for anything, and secondly, he loved flowers. Being an overly soft child, especially for a boy, he read a lot of books on horticulture in his youth, particularly about flowers. He was embarrassed to admit to it around anyone, after the numerous occurrences of lectures and outright bullying from his father and his peers, but as usual, Ed didn’t judge him for it for a second and was fully on board with a flower garden immediately. It would be an eventual bonus to have fresh flowers for guest rooms, but mainly Stede just wanted to grow flowers.

The spot was chosen, and a mild, slow cleanup was to ensue, and it was settled. Flowers growing beside the inn, eventually. He got restless when Izzy found him, energy threatening to spill over if he didn’t do something with himself.

At least he’d worn himself out. Sure, he’d pay for his fuckup by leaving Izzy’s dinner by his door, no doubt, but he had to say what he was thinking, it was important.

He found himself sitting on the couch, still tense, but alone.

Then, he heard footsteps, making him even more tense. He figured it’d be Izzy, just so he could stand menacingly behind him again, to start another conversation that would go horribly. That would lead to Stede talking to him twice in one day, which would certainly be a record for human contact for him.

It wasn’t Izzy, though. Instead, he heard a different and very welcome voice.

“Hey,” Ed said, pressing a kiss to his cheek, walking around the couch, and sitting beside him.

“Hi,” Stede replied, automatically feeling the tension drop, snuggling closer to him.

“Gardening go okay?”

“Yes and no. I got some work done with the flowerbed, closer to having it set up, for sure, but… Izzy helped,” he said, unable to hide the grimace on his face.

Ed raised an eyebrow. “He helped?”

“He helped, and I talked to him, and I upset him.”

“Lots of shit upsets him, I bet it wasn’t your fault.”

“No, it was definitely me. Don’t expect him to sit with us for dinner, or talk if he does. I made an apparently very delicate assumption. I was right, but that wasn’t quite the point. Do you think roses would look nice?”

“Don’t dodge the question. What happened? You think he was trying to be nice, and you fucked it up?”

“I don’t know what I think right now. He told me about his feelings he had for you, a while before all this, a bit after the point when he told you how he felt, and… I made an assumption about the tense of those feelings, and…”

Ed grimaced. “Yeah. He hates talking about his feelings.”

“Then, because I seem to always make things worse with him before I help, I may have insinuated he’s still in love with you.”

“…Is he?”

“I wasn’t sure before I asked, and now I’m positive he does.” He paused for a split second. “I think roses would look nice. I don’t know if they’d grow, and the thorns might cause problems but—”

“Don’t try it again, it won’t work. He’s stressing you out over it and I want to help if I can. So, you think he’s in love with me. You know he was never really into me as a person, right? He was more into the scary, infamous pirate who could murder him thing. Least that’s what I thought about it. He never told me anything about how he felt.”

“I think he’s changed his mind on the front of you as Ed Teach, definitely lost the taste he had for Blackbeard. I should’ve talked to you about it first, obviously, I was just thinking and—”

“It’s okay.” Ed snuggled closer, resting his head on Stede’s chest and grinning up at him lazily. “I think roses would be nice. I don’t know shit about flowers, but if you think it’d look nice, I think it’s a good idea.”

Stede whined quietly. “Since when is all this so complicated? I thought we retired so things could be less complicated.”

“That idea died when Izzy showed back up, love.”

“And It’ll be back to the new normal when he leaves tonight,” Stede shot back gloomily.

“Nah, he won’t leave. Especially not if you’re right and he’s in love with me.”

“I do think I’m right.”

“Would reading help or hurt?”

“Might help.”

“Good. I’ll grab something then.”

“You’re sure you want to sit with me?”

“Positive. You have good taste in books. Plus, last time I got to read with anyone, it was with my mom, before I was a pirate. I like reading with you, you’re not making me do it. I like having time to do shit I usually didn’t, like reading, or bugging you until you stop worrying about Iz, and I don’t have any other plans.”

“But—"

Ed sighed. “Shut up and let me get a book so we can both think about other things for a little, please? I love you so much, so no buts. And no more talking about Izzy.”

Stede took a slow breath and sighed, feeling slightly better. “Okay.”

Ed got up, detangling himself from Stede with only a little regret and walked to the stacks of books they’d collected.

They’d pestered all the booksellers every couple of weeks for anything Stede hadn’t collected again or books they hadn’t read yet. The again part made Ed silently embarrassed, but Stede would always kindly cut in and said he’d lost his collection relatively recently, and was looking for anything and anything he hadn’t read yet, as well as finding old favorites. Pinocchio was an evergreen favorite, and stayed in rotation among the piles that would eventually warrant the existence of shelves, or an area dedicated to a library. So far, though, the books were in haphazard stacks that were organized in a vague sense, recent reads and new acquisitions were on the top, leaving older books or books they’d read on the bottom.

They’d get bookshelves eventually. They’d also paint the walls eventually, and weatherproof half the place… eventually. They’d at least have to manage the book piles before Izzy was really able to get around and would want the space to not trip and fall on one of Stede’s hobbies.

Ed settled back in with a book, holding it out for Stede to take, nestling himself right back where he was before he had to get up.

Stede spoke up after a few peaceful minutes. “Do you think he actually feels that way for you?”

“I think we were saving it for later.”

“I know we are, but.. I can’t get it out of my head. He didn’t realize it until I told him, I think. And he has trouble with his feelings anyway, and that’s without me meddling… You won’t blame me if this fucks it up do you? He was doing alright before I said anything.”

“I wouldn’t blame you. Because nothing’s gonna happen. He’s felt like that about me for ages, and he’s never really done much about it outside of getting cagier than his usual. It’s probably on me it never went away, never let him down easy about it, or figured it out in my own head, but if it doesn’t work out, or he doesn’t leave when things’re okay, I think he can sort it out in his own head, and we can relax. You wouldn’t mind him liking me, clearly you don’t, you picked up on it.”

“I don’t. I honestly wouldn’t mind you giving him your attention, I don’t think I’d be all that jealous of him for it.”

“Maybe it’ll work, maybe it won’t. It’ll figure itself out, or Izzy’s gonna die in like 70 years of unrequited feelings or something, and it’s gonna be our fault then, in like 70 years, at least, which isn’t today. And if he’s dead, we can’t do anything anyway, besides put on his gravestone here lies Izzy Hands, dead from feelings he hated having.”

Stede grimaced. “I think I’d be especially sensitive to his plight in 70 years. That’s an awfully long time to stew in emotions.”

Ed laughed. “That’s the thing with Iz, he doesn’t let himself feel the feelings, he just stews in it. He won’t try anything unless we make him think about it.”

“Leave it to you to understand that man.”

“Exactly. He hasn’t killed me yet. I tried to kill him, and he didn’t die, so it’ll figure itself out. I dunno if I’d mind it or not, but I think he has his moments. He’s loyal, smart, funny if he wants to be. But we were saving it for later.”

“Sorry. We were.”

***

Izzy wanted to be alone, that was why he was trying to go outside and clear his head.

Then, he saw Ed, kneeling on the floor in front of a bookshelf.

He should’ve left it alone, but he couldn’t hold his brain back from walking over to him and commenting. Old habits and all. Old habits and old dogs.

“You’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow for that.”

Ed shifted slightly, wincing imperceptibly, and looked up at Izzy. “Then how d’you think I should reach the bottom shelf without hurting my knee?”

“Leave it for Bonnet.”

“I’m doing this so he doesn’t have to later, which is a lot like how I’ll deal with the pain later.”

“No you won’t. You’ll complain to him about it and he’s going to ask why you were being an idiot.”

Ed adjusted himself, stretching his leg out and grinned up at Izzy. “That’s your line, asking why I’m an idiot, he’d be nicer about it.”

“Because that knee’s been a problem for years, let him hear you complain every time there’s bad weather or you sit like that putting pressure on it, and then he’ll get tired of it.”

“I wear the brace now, you should be happier with me.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Is something up?”

That was Edward for something’s up, I can tell, so say it before you yell at me. “You’re fixing things up around here.”

“That doesn’t sound like something that’d make you this weird. Want me to tell Stede you’re being weird with me so he can bug you?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“It’s something. So, tell me before I make good on the threat.”

“I’m sure he told you.”

“He tells me a lot of things, you gotta be specific,” Ed said.

“Not if you can’t figure it out.”

“Okay. I don’t know what it is, and you don’t seem like you’re in the mood to let me guess. So, I’ll say this: you’re doing fine with me. If either of us should be stressing over how he’s acting—”

 
“We can talk about it later.”

“Suit yourself.”

Izzy let himself have one more look at Ed as he went back to shelving books, shirt slipping up just a little, giving Izzy the barest hint of his skin. Domestic life looked good on him. Izzy made himself stop drooling over a man he had no business liking and he walked outside like he was planning to originally.

He grimaced at the unmarked grave, even if it was empty. It was never going to feel any less fucked up to see it there, or to wake up and still be on land with no deadline to go back to a ship after their time in port was over.

Waking up in the same place every day was still weird too.

Buttons landed beside him, leave it to the fucking seagull to have a sense of timing.

“No,” he said. “I’m not telling Bonnet about it and I’m especially not telling you.”

Instead of a reply from the bird, because Izzy still half expected him to talk back, he heard a different familiar voice that made him bristle.

“Not telling Bonnet about what? Even Buttons there would probably prefer it if you would just call me Stede. You still can, any time you’d like, you can drop the Bonnet, because truthfully, that was more my father than me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he growled, forcing his heart to stop racing in his chest.

“Really, what is it? I know I sort of pushed you last time we talked alone. Is that still bothering you?”

“If it is?”

“I've talked about it with Ed too. I really wouldn’t mind him being more affectionate towards you. I've heard about some of your conversations over dinner, it sounds like you’re bonding again.”

“And?”

Stede stood in front of him, frowning with his arms crossed over his chest. “And—I’m sorry I made a correct assumption and voiced it. Better now?”

“Worse, actually.”

“If you need an outlet, the garden is still open. Weeds pop up like… weeds, so, there’s plenty of things besides poor Buttons or me for you to take the aggression out on.”

“Then you’ll make me talk about how— how I feel about him.”

“Only if you keep stepping around the issue. He doesn’t want to bring it up in case it makes you feel worse, so it’s on you to talk to him about it.”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Contrary to your beliefs, I don’t exist solely to make you miserable.”

“Sure seems like you do,” Izzy grumbled.

“It’s not a death sentence to feel things, Izzy. It’s just how you feel, and I highly suspect it won’t just go away. He’d take it just fine, anyway, even with what happened the last time. He’s gotten better about a lot of things. You need to trust someone, and I don’t know if it should be the seagull. I give good advice, unlike him.” He winced and looked at the seagull. “No offense, Mr. Buttons, it’s just… you’re not much of a conversationalist these days.”

 
Buttons tipped his head to one side and ruffled his feathers in a bird shrug.

Izzy glared at the bird and then at Stede. “Can’t take a walk in peace. Makes me miss patrolling and raids. I thought he’d make me lose the taste for them, running us dead to distract himself, but here I am.”

“Easier to mask bad habits as useful at sea.”

“Sure enough, it works out just fine. Go back to tending your fucking flowers, Bonnet.”

“So be it, then,” Stede said, turning and walking back towards the other side of the inn.

“So fucking be it,” Izzy muttered, setting out to keep walking away from the inn. Maybe someday he’d forget it was there at all, and he’d get far enough away to stop thinking about the way Ed looked crouching down and shelving fucking books, looking completely normal and happy.

He found himself by Stede again, who didn’t notice him standing there. As threatened, he was pulling weeds.

“You really don’t care if I stay? You’d make more money with customers who fuck off,” Izzy said, expecting to be ignored.

Stede paused, looking up at him, expression puzzled. “Who said we were trying to profit?”

Izzy scowled. “Of course. I never remember you’re both lunatics. I realized a while ago that he wasn’t reasonable, I should’ve known you’d never be sensible either. You run a business to make money, so you can eat and live, not to… whatever the fuck you’re thinking of doing.”

“It’s more fun this way. I’ve dealt with money, it’s a pain to manage it, and gets you nowhere useful past a certain point.”

Izzy frowned. “Right. He’s told you how he grew up?”

“Of course he did. I know how I grew up, too and, trust me, having well-off parents doesn’t mean your life is great. It just means they have something to hold over you, so that you behave. We have more than enough to get by on for the foreseeable future, and that’s plenty. You’re pushing off the actual problem at hand.”

“Does he know?”

“The general points of your feelings for him, yes.”

Izzy growled irritably. “This is why I don’t tell you or the seagull anything. Neither of you can keep things to yourselves.”

“Why would it matter that Ed heard about how you feel about him? You’re clearly not going to act on it, it shouldn’t matter.”

“It does matter. You guessed, and you told him that it was true!”

Stede tipped his head to one side. “Was I wrong?”

“Wrong to tell your boyfriend about it, absolutely.”

“Wrong with my guess,” he clarified.

“No,” Izzy admitted. “It’s stupid and doesn’t make any damn sense, though, so you can tell him to forget it happened. I won’t break you two up anymore, clearly, it doesn’t work when I try.”

 “But you won’t tell him that you’re—"

“How about we bury the fucking issue and pretend that the feelings aren’t there at all?”

Stede’s expression soured. “You and I both know what I’d say to that suggestion.”

“That I should be open and talk it through. I asked him to do that, and he tried to kill me last time. I don’t care if he’s changed and is a different fucking person than he was. I know he’s gotten better. The feeling I have is still fucking deranged and I shouldn’t tell him it exists. You shouldn’t know it exists,” Izzy growled.

“And you’re so obviously pining for him that—”

“It doesn’t matter. You won. Be happy about it,” Izzy snapped.

Stede’s eyes softened. “That’s not what I meant.”

“And I meant what I said. Leave me alone.”

“Fine.”

Izzy stalked off with a sigh.

No one left him alone. Not even the inside of his own head. Couldn’t even solve one problem right.

His brain had one suggestion for how to deal with the frustration. He couldn’t eat until he was too tired to stay awake, of course. He couldn’t be alone, apparently, and he didn’t have his old weapons. He could find where Edward stashed a coupon for intruders but that was too much trouble.

He finally settled for sitting in his old spot. It was quiet, if nothing else. He needed a job to do, and of course he couldn’t find one between it being on land and the two bastards who’d want to talk if he was near them.

All he could do was wait for his rotten brain to fix itself and stop thinking about Edward.

***

Izzy walked by Stede and noticed he was looking up at an all too familiar painting on the wall. He stopped just behind Stede, looking up at the framed painting of a lighthouse.

Once again, he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “You kept that painting he was obsessed with?”

Stede straightened and turned around. “He…was?”

“Yeah. First time I went into his quarters after you left him and he started doing worse than moping alone because I fucked with his head, he was staring at the thing and crying until he noticed I was there watching him. Really thought he’d burned the thing with the purge.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to ask, but what the fuck is up with that painting?”

“My… ex-wife painted it. When I was married to her, the priest said I was meant to be a guiding light for my family, part of the sermon part of the ceremony. She made the painting for an anniversary, which makes it sound very stupid that I took it when I ah, ran away from home, but I did. It reminded me that I was a fuckup, and still sort of am. And then, when Ed and I met, the bit with the Spanish, it was a nice moment in a particularly dark time for us, as a crew and for him and me both, him wanting to effectively live my life after he killed me and me not knowing what to do with the life I had. I’m as surprised as you are that it survived the purge, as you put it.”

“He used it to punish himself for making you break up with him, because you broke his heart before I broke his brain,” Izzy replied. “Bad memory now, I bet.”

Stede grimaced. “Bad choice for décor, then?”

“If you still like it, he might.”

“I think it looks nice up there. Reminds me of him and I now. Better than a reminder of myself being a horrible father and husband.”

“You had kids?”

Stede stiffened. “I did. They hated me when I came back after running away if it makes you feel better. Happier without me, too, I promise you. And I’ve had the don’t abandon children speech from Ed, so I don’t need it again.”

“Good. You know what his dad was like, I bet he was furious when he heard you had kids you left behind when you gave up your old life the first time.”

“He was. I wasn’t good at anything before I was a pirate. Father included.”

“And now you’re a shitty innkeeper. And you were… not that bad of a pirate, after you learned how it worked. Given a few more years, you’d be something.”

“I’m happier here.”

“Great. You know I don’t give a shit what you put on the walls, right?”

“I think as our first guest—”

“Don’t do this when you have guests who don’t know you and how fucking weird you are.”

“I won’t, but I still want your opinions, you’re blunt enough to not flatter me.”

“Happy you feel that way, Stede.”

“You’re excused.”

“Good. Heading back outside. If you want advice on what else to hang on the walls, ask your boyfriend.”

“I think the rest of it will be more a joint decision, I just found it in with a few things we’d taken from our old quarters and thought it would look nice.”

Izzy had already walked through the door before he could be asked for more advice on the furniture of the inn.

After a few peaceful minutes, Izzy knew he wasn’t alone anymore, and his company wasn’t Buttons.

“Thought I was excused.”

“I just had a thought,” Stede said.

“Tell Edward about it.”

“That’s the problem, it’s about your room.”

“The spare bedroom that I’m borrowing until I feel like a person again,” Izzy corrected.

“Which means, it is your room. Last time I saw it, it looked pretty bleak. Would you want to maybe find some things to decorate with?”

“That’s pointless.”

“You’re sure? It’s really depressing in there.”

“I don’t decorate.”

“Because?”

“When you have to get the fuck out of places more often than not, you don’t do pointless things. You don’t bother with it when you fight to survive.”

“Sound enough for your standards. Are you positive?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely sure? You don’t need to be miserable, just because it’s not an ideal situation doesn’t mean—”

“It’s fine. I don’t care, just leave me alone.”

“Alright. Sorry I pushed.”

“Don’t apologize, just don’t do it again.”

Stede winced, turned around and walked back inside.

Izzy felt his heart sinking, and shook the feeling off.

***

It was stupid, glutting himself off food he felt he hardly deserved. At sea it was rationing, and because it never happened on land, according to Bonnet, it wasn’t something that had to be done.

And yet, he’d get in trouble again if he got caught. He’d been lucky so far, or bonnet was biding his time to get him in trouble.

But he couldn’t sleep. It only got worse the longer he thought about Edward, how he looked, the life that he could’ve had if Izzy had left him alone that much sooner.

Izzy was always in the wrong place at the wrong time, saying the wrong things to the wrong people. He was a burden on the inn, and he would be the exact kind of dead weight and mouth to feed that he hated being.

He was confident in a little over half of his skills, but if he couldn’t clear his head at the right times, he’d get them all killed.

He knew it was risky, stealing food on an all too regular basis. He’d get caught one way or another, between Bonnet’s insight or the pair of them eventually noticing that food had never stopped disappearing overnight, worse when he was alone with Edward.

The downsides didn’t matter, though.

He couldn’t sleep and that was that. Izzy walked to the kitchen quietly, sure enough that Edward and Bonnet were sleeping. He had it down to an art, getting in, stealing what he wanted, and going right back to the spare room, dropping the dishes off when he was done.

That practice hadn’t gotten him caught in recent history. Bonnet must either know or be an idiot, and the split between the options as fairly even.

A sick part of Izzy’s brain, the long-rotten part that thirsted for a man who didn’t exist, and probably never existed outside of his own fantasies, had a suggestion.

Maybe Bonnet wanted him desperate enough to force him to get caught. Maybe that was the last straw he’d decided on when he let him stay, like a stray dog. When he was a desperate burden, then he’d cut ties and tell him to leave, bother someone else. Stop loving his boyfriend, because every time he got close to admitting to his feelings, he got hurt.

It was time for a break in the old routine. He didn’t have to be predictable. Izzy took what food he wanted, and settled bracing his back against the cabinets on the floor.

It’d be hell to get back up, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be exhausted, and wasn’t in the mood for formalities. He had to get his mind off Edward one way or another.

Izzy didn’t mind how mindless food had gotten, between eating and talking with Wd, not letting himself think about anything while he did it, or this, it helped him clear his head a little. Stolen goods weren’t a new idea to him anyway, his line of work before washing up at the inn.

The main problem with it was overdoing it, the dull, then sharp ache in his insides that came up too fast for his liking. He didn’t mind the pain, it was the good kind, the kind that usually left marks on him the next day, the kind that made most men marvel that he was uniquely fucked up.  It was just a hell of a lot harder to eat when he was only trying to prove to his brain that he was its boss and not the other way around.

It also made him think more about Ed instead of less. A happy relationship and a stable life can only account for so much weight, and he had gained more than that.

A hell of a lot more than he’d expect him to.

He shut down the thought with a mouthful of bread.

The leftovers were more like what he was used to, food that was halfway past its prime, mostly edible.

Their conversation hadn’t gone badly, it was just a habit now, he thought about Ed in ways no one shoddily think of someone they weren’t fucking and had no business being close to.

When he got like this before, he’d take his frustrations out in the closest port they docked at, with whatever man looked suitable enough, he’d charm them, if that was what getting them a little drunk or using Blackbeard’s name to benefit himself was, and slept with them. Really they fucked and he slipped out to avoid emotional attachment.

He knew what it was like, and he didn’t want to go through it with anyone else ever again.

It only led him to the worst places, glutting himself out of insomnia with more food than anyone would set as a share of rations to stretch supplies a day longer.

He hadn’t bothered to go to the spare bedroom, that was how fucking pathetic it had gotten.

And he was getting fat, slowly. He knew he was, but it wasn’t exactly going away, and he wasn’t doing much to try to get rid of it. Between age and the amount of food he could eat, he’d probably count as actually thin again, especially at the line between thin and sort of fat. He could grab at the softness that settled over his middle when he wasn’t trying to fill the void of affection with food, which admittedly helped him get his mind off his boss for long enough to distract himself from his pining.

Getting fat suited Ed so nicely, though.

Another mouthful of food swallowed too fast to shut his brain up.

If it was more than just the amount his old boss had…

No.

If he happened to get desperate, if Bonnet finally made the last mistake too many and ruined the one good thing…

Stop.

He’d come crawling to you eventually. Beg you for mercy if you treated him the way he used to treat you.

Not the time.

It was never the time to think about it.

Izzy kept shoving food into his mouth, desperate to get over himself for even a few minutes.

He felt heavy, overindulged.

But his brain wasn’t fogged over enough yet. He could think clearly, and that was the problem with the habit. Like any vice, he got a tolerance going. He could take more and needed more every time he did it again.

He’d get fat doing this, and Edward would almost definitely hate him for it.

As if he didn’t hate him already.

No amount of speeches and apologies fixes a maiming, not really. But apologizing also doesn’t fix shattering a man’s psyche so utterly he maims you.

Love fixed Edward though, and Izzy was hellbent on ruining that happiness, apparently.

He ruined a lot of things.  Most things, if he was honest.

But that was something he could forget about if he just took a little more food. He staggered to his feet and swiped something off a plate, unthinking, and shoved it into his mouth, sitting right back down.

Cloying sweetness hit his tongue.

It nearly made him choke and curse, but he didn’t want to wake up the happy couple in their room just down the hall.

The fucking thing, whatever he’d taken, it was full of jam. Overly sweet, and just the right amount of distracting to make him hurt.

It was the latest kind of pain that made him feel alive. It used to be a whip, or just a hand, rally anything that made his skin sting. He wasn’t picky.

With food, he’d gotten picky. He couldn’t eat anything to the degree of making his insides groan and ache with overindulgence of a bad habit. He pushed his limits in everything, this included.

Fuck, it was too much.

He slumped over after the last bite of sickly pastry, grabbing another and shoving it into his mouth.

He would be done when he felt better. He pressed his fingers into his side roughly, forcing a burp out and feeling the tightness ease by a little. Enough room to finish the rest of it and go about his night.

The sweetness got easier to deal with past the first one. It was clearer why his old boss liked sugar as a concept then, getting tartness of fruit along with the pure sugar that still accosted his tongue.

Admittedly it was good. It would’ve been better if he had a real want for the taste of the thing and not to just fill a slight void in his belly.

He moved his free hand to the overtaxed skin again, feeling the fullness test the limits of the shirt that had been losing its looseness by the week he was stuck trying to erase his feelings.

He could barely breathe, and that was just how he liked it.

His breathing was even shallower by the time he licked the pastry crumbs off his fingers, and he let his head drop backwards.

Undone by overdoing it after a perfectly fine amount of dinner. If he could’ve seen himself even 5 years ago, he’d think he’d lost his fucking mind.

He probably had, all things considered. He ran a hand over himself, letting the pleasure of imagining it wasn’t his own belly under his hand soak into him. He couldn’t be that cruel to himself, especially when he could only guess how much Ed could eat lately, how he’d look shirtless, probably spilling out of his old leathers because he was so taken care of.

If it was Izzy’s doing, he’d be happier.

Maybe.

He’d overdone it if he wanted to make it back to his room before sunrise.

A sickening panic set in, even if he felt slower than usual with how full he’d gotten off some leftover food that would’ve been better warm.

He undid his pants as a measure to try and coax himself to stand. He let his hand try to knead at his belly, finding little comfort in the motion and little give in his body.

Then, after a few minutes of fruitless effort and pathetic noises, he heard footsteps.

Someone was trying to be quiet, thinking everyone in the inn was asleep.

Izzy sat silently, childishly hoping that maybe if he was still enough, no one would know he was there.

Then, the footsteps stopped abruptly, and he heard the voice.

The all too familiar voice of Stede Bonnet.

Stede fucking Bonnet, who had just found Izzy alone, in the kitchen, clearly glutted like a poorly trained kitten who’d forgotten its limits on the milk saucer.

Mortified and clinging to hope still, Izzy stayed still, shutting his eyes, avoiding the undoubtedly disappointed look. Because he wasn’t mad at him, he was just fucking disappointed.

 
“What do you think you’re doing up this late? I’d normally excuse you for wandering the halls like a ghost, but you look like hell.”

Izzy gave up the charade, looking up at him finally, disgustingly aware he wasn’t having a vivid nightmare. “Thanks,” Izzy spat condescendingly. “What do you want?”

Stede’s gaze was steely. He wasn’t giving up or going back to bed yet. “For you to explain to me why I shouldn’t get Ed in here to ask you what the hell you’re doing, for starters.”

Izzy dropped his hand from where he was trying to soothe the ache in his guts. “You have eyes, Bonnet. Give it a guess.”

Stede frowned and crossed his arms. “You stole food again, that’s obvious, but why?”

“It’s the same reason as the last time. Couldn’t sleep.”

“And how many times have you done this and not gotten caught?”

Izzy muffled a burp and a groan. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Stede snapped. “Especially if you think it won’t.”

Izzy glared at him, hating how he still didn’t trust himself to get off the floor gracefully.

“How often have you been doing this?” Stede repeated, tone sharp with its concern. “It’s not about the food; it’s about you trying to hurt yourself, because, again, you look like hell.”

He grimaced, for a few reasons, mainly he put together the fact that Stede was going to tell Edward what he was doing even if he went along with the interrogation. “Don’t tell him.”

“You know I’ll have to if you won’t talk to me. You can’t possibly think that I’d just think this was fine— I’m telling him regardless of you asking me not to.”

“Why?”

“Because, for starters, it’s not every day I see his oldest friend slumped over on the floor looking like that.” Stede dropped his hands in a gesture towards Izzy’s body.

Izzy’s glare intensified, and Stede’s steely expression softened.

“Are you maybe… stuck there? Why did you think that you’d never get caught sitting there if you did this every night you couldn’t sleep?”

“I’m fine, and I didn’t think you’d come in. Usually, I take the dishes back here after I’m done, and I've never seen you.”

“Really? That’s—” Stede quickly closed his mouth, dropping his half-surprised look. “Well, regardless, do you feel okay? We can talk about why you did this and have another lecture on you not resorting to theft in the morning.”

“When I can’t think straight and I’m exhausted, I’m not thinking about my problems,” Izzy muttered.

“We’ll talk about all of that with Ed around, then.”

“It’s going fine, it’s my problem to solve, it just involves him because of the shit you’ve told him already. You can leave him out of it because it’s my burden.”

 “That just proves the fact that he needs to hear this too. So, need help?”

“No,” Izzy growled. He just needed a minute to digest before he could get to his feet was all.

“No one is here to see you but me.”

“Still don’t need your help.”

“The floor is cold at night, especially when your room is just down the way a bit. You wanted to save yourself the effort of putting the dishes back, and you overdid it. There is absolutely no shame in needing help up. You have to rely on someone in your life, especially right now, so, here.” Stede held his hand out, waiting for Izzy to take it.

Izzy took it and staggered to his feet, feeling his body adjust to being upright with a painful lurch. “Fuck you.”

“You’re welcome. Suffering for the sake of it is not half as noble as you believe it is. Thanks for taking my help, I’m glad you did.”

Izzy’s throat tightened at his words.

“You’re alright to go back to your bedroom?”

“I’ll be fine,” he managed.

“Well, see you in the morning.”

Izzy replied with a short noise and started to walk towards the spare bedroom, to hopefully get some sleep before having an awful morning.

As Izzy tried to force himself to sleep, settled into the bed, laying on his side pathetically, he heard footsteps. Edward’s. His heart raced for a nauseating minute, and then the sound got quieter as Ed went past the door.

Then, he heard a conversation, heavily muffled, but almost audible. Part of it sounded a lot like Ed asking (very loudly, loud enough to make out the words almost completely) what the fuck was up with Izzy that late, with a lot more of a much quieter conversation, something about not waking him up, and that he’d explain it later. After that, two sets of footsteps walked to their bedroom, leaving the inn in silence.

His first thought after knowing that Edward knew (or would know in a matter of minutes) what happened, and would absolutely ask or get in on the not-a-lecture, was that he could sneak out and leave.

The second thought was that he was basically pinned to the spot and had no chance to get anywhere. Also, running from his problems wasn’t his usual way of doing things. He could fix it in the morning, explain he was going to leave, that things were okay between them, minus the whole what the fuck is your problem part, and that he would be with the crew when they came back, and not to say a word about what happened.

Chapter Text

Stede woke up with a lurch after an all too short-lived moment of peace. The reality of their morning had hit him within minutes, and it was obvious he wouldn’t get to cuddle with his boyfriend and instead got to deal with the latest snag about Izzy. There’d been so many of those lately, and they hadn’t gotten less thorny yet.

He had to figure things out with Izzy and whatever the hell he was doing about what happened last night. He kept up his usual schedule, so…

They needed a plan, and Stede had half of one. He’d gotten out of bed, in his bleary hurry, and nearly forgot he wanted Ed in on it before he sprung it on Izzy. He walked to Ed’s side of the bed and took his shoulder gently.

“Ed, love, wake up.”

Ed sat up, barely awake. Stede’s heart broke a little at how scared he looked, just before he relaxed, then looked worried. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Izzy. I’m still worried about him, especially with how mortified he seemed last night.”

Ed groaned. “Right. You had an idea?”

“Sort of. I think he wants something to do with you, even now, and he may be coping with those emotions. So… I thought the ideal solution would be to talk about it, over dinner,” Stede started, narrowly avoiding the once tried-and-true phrase that made Ed and Izzy both wince with horror as of late. “And if you wanted to, maybe you could explain why I think what I’m thinking about his behavior. How’s that sound?”

“I think it’s an idea. He’s warmed up to you, he might even agree without complaining. Worst case, we get to have dinner in peace. Or—he left when he woke up at the crack of dawn, and I get to live with my fuckups.” He smiled grimly.

“I’m fairly sure he’s still here. Even with his schedule, I don’t think he’ll be up for leaving.”

“But you want to know if he did, and if he wants to talk now.”

“Exactly. And as an apology for waking you up and having to sort this out, maybe we could have breakfast in bed? Izzy won’t eat with us, I’m sure, so, we're free to eat where we’d like without thinking about him for at least a few hours. Thoughts?”

Ed grinned, the first sign of levity on his face since he was asleep and Stede ruined his peace. “I think you’re out to spoil me.”

“That’s because I am, and I adore you to the point of spoiling you absolutely rotten.” He smiled, then sighed. “Wish me luck with Izzy.”

“I’ll do you one better. C’mere.”

Stede obliged him, leaning close to him, and Ed gave him a quick kiss.

“Oh, I get a good luck kiss?”

“Of course you do. You need all the help you can get to talk him into eating with us, and to let us explain everything. I know him, and I know his instinct is to run or argue."

“I can still hope it goes well. Either way, next time I come in, I’ll have breakfast for us.”

Any trace of a smile dropped from Ed’s face. “It’s not your fault if he left, you know.”

“I won’t say I won’t feel guilty, but yes, I know. It’s not on you either, it's his decision, despite it being horrible timing, and if he hasn’t left a note, very rude. If he did do that and there’s no note, you can help me write a strongly worded letter that he could’ve at least said goodbye first.”

That at least earned a laugh, and Stede shrugged a robe on over his pajamas and set off for the kitchen before Izzy’s room.

He wanted to at least go in with tea. His education in etiquette insisted he avoid trying to make a deal empty-handed. Stede was also well aware Izzy would feel horrible after his evening, knowing his and Ed’s experiences with Izzy’s type of behavior. Luckily for the three of them, they’d started keeping ginger tea for the occasion. Izzy practically lived off black tea, but he’d have to settle today, or make his own if he hated the ginger. He let it steep as he paced and worried, absently taking out the ingredients of his and Ed’s breakfast as he waited. Finally, it was ready, and he had to face the man. He left two empty cups out for his and Ed’s breakfast, and took the filled cup of tea with him to give to Izzy as a sort of bargaining chip.

He already knew it wouldn’t do any good if Izzy hated the plan, or if his room was empty. Still, he was stubborn enough to want to try.

Izzy was learning he hated his instincts. He woke with a start at a knock on his—the guest room’s—door. He sat up and tried to remind himself that it wasn’t important, not if he was on land. According to two innkeepers, a lot of things could wait to be repaired.

Two innkeepers who probably had words for him, and probably assumed he wouldn’t sleep in. The nausea came back with a vengeance. Izzy told himself last night that he could just get up early and sneak out and avoid the fucking trouble.

And there he was, up later than normal, and hearing a knock on the one way out of the room besides throwing himself out of the window. If Ed was there, he probably would do that, just to avoid the consequences he knew he earned. He could even imagine the look on his face, that was the worst of it, besides an inevitable speech about how they’re not mad at him. The frown, the creased brow, the fucking puppy dog look he was never immune to no matter how far the man got under his fucking skin. Then, he would have to deal with Bonnet’s fucking input.

Izzy eyed the window as the knocking continued. He wasn’t sure it could open. He didn’t feel like shredding his skin on broken glass, either.

Then, because he wasn’t fast enough to do a damn thing anymore, he heard Bonnet’s voice.

“Izzy, please, could you at least answer? I just want to talk, and it’s just me. Assuming you’re awake, at any rate,” he said, then paused, adding, “and if you’re here in the first place.”

Izzy sighed heavily, dragging his eyes away from the window and frowning at the door. He had to answer. It was that or have the prick walk in on him. It was his own fault his idea backfired. Sleep didn’t give him any clarity, either. He didn’t have a plan besides get the fuck out of the inn before he got kicked out. The crew didn’t seem forthcoming with details, for good reason, old bosses leaving the work to do this shit of all things, after one of them terrorized half of them for months on end. He could set out to find them, but that would take time, effort, and patience that he usually lacked. Then he’d have to not get himself killed in the process, and then, he’d have to live with his choices, never knowing what Bonnet really thought of him.

He didn’t care, of course, he was just curious. He spent years knowing exactly what Ed thought of him, it would only be fair the only other captain he’d really worked for to have an opinion to share with him about how he did things. Then, he also knew what he thought about Ed, and that was a major reason he was staying.

He had one option, and it wasn't to throw himself out of a window. So, with the nausea making itself known, bile in his throat, he answered the knock.

“Fuck off," he said, willing it to happen, just once. All he wanted was peace and quiet.

“Can I ask you for just a minute—or five minutes, that’s all I need of you. Please?”

It was worse than he thought, Bonnet’s last word sounded desperate. He expected angry, of all the ways he could ask him to talk. Instead, Izzy apparently forced him into bargaining. Bonnet was well within his rights to just open the door and force his presence on him, but, in his usual way, despite any logic or benefit to being anything else, he was being nice.

Izzy was still getting used to the idea of anyone being nice for no reason. It sounded awful when he thought about it for too long. He finally gave in before he had a better idea.

“Fine,” Izzy growled. “Give me a minute, and I'll get the goddamn door.”

Everything took longer since he started using the prosthetic. Even getting up was a process, since he learned almost immediately that he hated sleeping in it. He'd gotten faster; most of the steps became muscle memory, given that he redid the process every day, but it never felt normal enough for his tastes.

Finally, he opened the door and was face-to-face with Stede. He looked repentant, as if he had anything to apologize for, and he was holding a teacup.

Stede managed a tense smile. “Thank you for agreeing to hear me out. I can tell you aren't thrilled to be, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

“Five minutes,” he reminded him.

Stede nodded. “First of all, I thought you may want something to help settle your stomach,” Stede paused uneasily, like he wanted to add something and thought better of it. “It’s not your usual, but it should help. It’s ginger, and I didn’t put anything else in it. It’s meant to help with nausea and digestion.”

Izzy took the tea. It was that or let him keep looking pathetic. Stede smiled a little after he took it.

“Secondly, Ed and I, because I'm really only springing this on you out of the blue—sorry for that—wanted to have a conversation with you over dinner. I know you do that anyway, most nights at least, but this would be something of an explanation instead. He and I both think there’s some common ground between us, and… we both think we should talk about it. Together.”

“And if I say no?” Izzy was halfheartedly suggesting it. He didn't want to yet, but he wanted to know how Stede would react.

“You’d still be welcome to stay, but I think it’d be better if you heard us both out. I would have told you myself, but it involves Ed substantially, and I think you would hear him out better than if I tried to paraphrase. Also, considering your temperament, I don’t think you’d take it well, even if you tolerate me these days.”

Izzy frowned. “You won’t tell me because you think I’ll kill you, but I still have to hear it?”

“Not have to, necessarily. You're just… fond of him and all, so…”

“Fine.”

Stede brightened. “Great! One last thing, then. Ed and I have plans for breakfast already, and I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, but, do you want me to leave you your breakfast?”

“I’ll eat.” After last night, he may not think anyone would want to. The nausea was lingering, but he could take it.

Stede, composed as ever, smiled. “Alright. I’ll leave it at your door.”

Izzy watched him skeptically. “That was it?”

Stede nodded. “See you tonight.”

He smiled again, too, and if he did anything else, Izzy wouldn’t know, because he promptly slammed the door in his face.

Somehow, in his broken fucking brain, he had the idea that his bad behavior would get him punished. Even stealing food only earned a lecture, which was going to get rehashed with twice as many disappointed looks that night.

He knew it wasn't going to be anything already. Bonnet wasn't really into punishment, and since he knew about most of what happened when he was gone, it wasn't likely he'd ever do worse than look like a kicked dog in his direction if he did anything to him.

The only thing he could really do was wait. If he didn't, he'd drive himself insane trying to figure out his next steps, or whatever the fuck their talk was going to be about.

He had an idea, knowing how Ed looked lately, but he wasn't sure, and really, that didn't concern Izzy in the least. It was their whatever the fuck it was, it was obviously something, the way they both acted around food when they forgot Izzy was there. Maybe it was for permission to be weird without him not knowing what was happening.

Then again, it was Bonnet. It could be anything. It just had to be something to do with how he felt about Ed. It wouldn't matter, maybe it was just saying I know you like him more than you should, more than anyone should like someone who maimed them, you're free to leave if that's what you want. That should've happened last night, though. That's something that's easy to bring up.

No amount of wondering would solve it, but it didn't stop Izzy from staring at the ceiling or out the window, or pacing the room and trying to figure it out. He unceremoniously skipped lunch after finishing breakfast. The nausea eased between eating breakfast and drinking the tea. He'd never admit it helped, but knowing it was around, if he stayed, and continued the gradually forming habit, he’d make use of it again.

It only got later as he went back over his thoughts and he knew if he kept waiting, he'd worry the happy couple or make them wonder if he really did leave.

He should've left, but Izzy hadn't done something good for his health in… since he became a pirate and threw himself behind Blackbeard.

He got off the bed and left the guest room anyway, heading to the kitchen to face his torture.

They weren't there.

He didn't hear them talking either, he went onto the porch and looked around outside, and still nothing.

That left one option. Izzy walked to their bedroom, and opened the door to see the pair of them, looking guilty.

Stede acknowledged him first. "And speak of the devil. Sorry, Izzy. I forgot to relay a few details, didn't I?"

"Like hell,” Izzy growled.

"In our defense, I did originally imagine us to be eating at the table, but… we kind of had a day in, and then I considered the topic of the conversation, and thought this may be easier. But we can talk about that later, when that aspect of things comes up," Stede said.

"You're assuming I want to talk now?"

"You did agree to," Ed said, finally speaking up.

Izzy rubbed a hand over his face. "I did." He weighed his options, really his option. There weren't any chairs in he room, just their bed to sit on. With the prosthetic, he'd be angled awkwardly and probably end up stuck where he settled without help with how dodgy his leg was at the knee.

"This wasn't well thought out. I'm sorry, again. You can sit on the bed, or grab a chair, if you'd like,” Stede offered.

Begrudgingly, knowing he was making a mistake, he decided to sit on their bed.

"So, now that's settled, there's an explanation that needs to happen before I tell you what the idea is. This whole situation started after you died, or really, probably around when we took the act of grace. Don't worry about the whole selling us out ordeal, that's long buried now. We had sort of planned to not be pirates anymore, to leave the English and… live, just be us. Of course that didn't happen, and you were there for that aftermath. Then, you died. Everyone took it pretty hard but… Ed wasn't alright afterwards in particular."

Ed smiled sheepishly. "You remember how I used to get in moods, and not eat, right?"

Izzy nodded, it was the cause of half their arguments.

"Yeah. Imagine that going on for a week."

Stede looked upset just remembering it. "It was terrifying. He pulled it together for Pete and Lucius, but after we decided on what to do with your body, it was obvious it was time for us to retire. Then we came out here, and he still wasn't eating. So, I used a tried and true favorite, since I was desperate, and this one ate half a loaf of bread and a jar of marmalade in quick succession." He patted Ed's arm affectionately.

"I got out of the worst of it by then. After that— you saw when I threw my leathers out, Iz, I thought I'd be done with them, then the republic exploded and all of that shit went down, so I had to keep wearing them. I kept them on until we left, and I realized it was making me miserable. I didn't have any ideas for how to get rid of them, of course, so I asked Stede."

"And I suggested, because of a few things that came up in the first weeks living here, that maybe we exploit that newly resurfaced appetite and make them unwearable. Since… well, if he couldn't fit into them, he literally couldn't wear them."

Izzy nodded. "Sounds like your brand of logic."

Stede shrugged, face pink. "It worked. I... indulged him in it after that point, then he couldn't wear the leather, he tried them on, they didn’t fit anymore, and it turned out we both had fun. So... once a week became three times a week, and then most nights. It's part of our relationship, at this point. Now that you know that, I think you and I both understand what's next. I want to know why you were doing what you did last night. Meaning how often, and what you want out of it, to see if it resembles what Ed and I enjoy."

"And maybe you'd want to eat dinner with us, and not eat alone until you get sick. It doesn't sound fun," Ed added.

"Like I did that for fun," Izzy spat. "I don't care about your pity, and I don't want it."

"It’s a good thing this isn't out of pity, then, isn't it, Izzy? How often were you doing that?"

"When I couldn't sleep."

"An average, if you could," Stede replied, taking on a tone of airy disinterest.

"Few times. More often than what you caught. Couple times a week."

"And it was because you couldn’t sleep, because you’re struck with bouts of insomnia for no particular reason,” Stede said, unconvinced, and utterly too happy to pry even if Izzy was desperate to hold one scrap of his fucking dignity.

He wasn't about to give up, not to him. “I'd get stuck thinking about something and that helped.”

“I mean, I think giving more details would help your situation, but alright.”

Fucking Stede Bonnet. Izzy glared in his direction. “You can get fucked. It’s about him and you know it is, this is just some fucking torture to make me talk about it in front of him, and so you both can tell me that my stay’s been too damn long, and I should go if I can’t ignore my feelings in silence without causing trouble.”

“No—er—partially. I could guess, but, that’s not why I wanted you to be up front with that. We wanted to have dinner with you, and explain that part of our relationship because I thought what you were doing had some very similar points to what Ed and I were doing. So… I figure this could, if you’re willing, of course, Izzy, serve as a way to feel that aspect of this situation out. Like a test. To learn if this could be something, between you and Ed. He and I aren’t strictly exclusive, although that conversation was a recent one. It’d have to be someone we both knew fairly well, of course, someone we both trusted, but...” Stede trailed off, gesturing at Izzy broadly.

But you can fuck my boyfriend if you can be a good boy, Izzy finished sourly to himself.

Fucking aristocrats and their way of avoiding the fucking point. Bonnet wasn’t one anymore, but he was born into that life, so of course, it was in his fucking blood.

Above all else, that annoyed the hell out of Izzy. “Fuck you both,” he growled.

Ed sighed, taking Stede’s hand. “Figured you’d say that, Iz. You can go.”

Izzy scowled at him, bringing up awful memories for himself and Ed. Then, he turned his irritation to the source. “I know you too well to delude myself. You won’t give in, will you, Bonnet? Asking me to fuck your boyfriend, in your bedroom, no less.”

Stede half stifled an amused smile. “I didn't ask that of you, and I would let you leave, if that was what you wanted. I also, didn't suggest sex to start. I suggested dinner. Although if it happened make you even a little less testy with me... I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” He ignored the annoyance evident on Izzy’s face, continuing on as if nothing had been said about fucking anyone, boyfriend or otherwise. “I make good on my promises, so at least eat a little, there’s plenty, nothing fancy since we’re not at the table, but it’s still food.”

Izzy looked at the tray as Stede nudged it closer to him. It was more than he thought the three of them could eat, but he’d apparently adjusted for Ed’s appetite, maybe Izzy’s too. Bread, jam, meat and cheese, plus sliced fruit. The fact it felt novel made his insides churn. He wasn't going to get used to their food. He couldn’t.

Ed, to make a point after seeing Izzy stare the food down, took a slice of bread, tore a bite off and ate it. “It’s not even poisoned.”

The feeble attempt at easing the tension could've been endearing. Stede certainty thought it was, with the way he was looking at his boyfriend so adoringly.

He eventually took some of the meat and bread, to avoid starting a fight. as he chewed, he thought about how absurd the situation was, past the baseline of weird that they were already.

“If the point of this was dinner, and not some fucked up thing you were going to force me into, why the hell are we in your bedroom?” Izzy asked.

Ed made a face. “You want to know?”

He didn’t anymore, but he couldn't just go back on it. “It can’t be that fucked up.”

Stede smiled ruefully. “Sometimes, I indulge his appetite a bit too zealously, I have to help him back to our room. Honestly, we spent all morning in here, so... doubly convenient. I also had the thought that you’d like to see Ed enjoy himself a bit, that we could just have something of a picnic.”

The realization hit Izzy slowly. Stede really did get him to eat a hell of a lot, apparently habitually, and the image the explanation that came to mind… wasn’t important and he could forget it was brought up.

It just made Izzy’s chest ache with bitter jealousy, even if he was apparently allowed to see it happen.

“Forget I said a word, and pretend it’s another of my eccentricities that you hate if it makes you look that green with nausea,” Stede said.

It wasn’t nausea. Izzy let him think it was, anything to make this less horrific.

Izzy let the silence go on between them after that, until he was too angry about years of the man refusing to eat a fucking thing for days and bitching at him for doing nothing but trying to help. He was awful at helping, sure, but still. Even shoving bread in his mouth couldn't make him stop wondering.

“Why him?” he finally asked out loud, feeling his meal settle in his guts like a rock.

Ed winced, knowing who the question was directed at. “It wasn’t your fault. I felt shitty when it was just us, you know. It’s a lot of things, really. Not doing the Blackbeard shit, being in a better mood in the day to day. Nothing you did or didn’t do, nothing he’s doing different besides not complaining at me.”

“And you still want me here.” I’ve been nothing but a cruel, jealous wreck pining after someone who didn't exist for fucking years on end, and now you decided you want me. A gunshot wound made this whole fucking mess better for you? really?

Ed furrowed his brow. “Well, yeah. I still like you, Iz, you're loyal to a fault, even if it hurts you. Give or take, I mean, minus the mutiny and all, ‘cause I deserved that. I told you before I wanted us to be friends, and… if you wanted something more than us being friends, that’s something that can happen. You like me, despite everything I did. Stede really had the idea to ask you, since he figured out you still had feelings for me, I just agreed, since I wouldn't mind it, and you've been better these days.”

Izzy made a noncommittal noise in his throat and shut his brain up from the idea of it becoming a thing with more food. He finally got tired of swallowing dry bread, so he spread marmalade on the bread and bit into it, ignoring the pleased look on Bonnet’s fucking face.

“Why bother?” he finally asked, breaking the silence again.

Stede’s brow furrowed. “You’ll have to clarify.”

“With me. Why not let me rot or kick me out? I’m not helping anything by being here.”

“Because this is just about you and what you want, of course it is,” Stede scoffed. “It’s also selfish on our end of things, just so you know. We’re bothering with you because for some reason, whatever it is, God knows you won’t just tell us, despite assumptions being readily made, you are still here. They’d take you back on happily, and it would be easy for us to explain to them—mostly—or you could just leave in the night and never let us hear about you again. Effort goes both ways, and this is easy. I thought you’d talk, be at least a little open with your feelings, or… you’d stare at him all night, and eat yourself sick the second you started thinking about how to kill me, and stormed out of the inn because repeating this exercise would be, in your words, fucking pointless.”

Izzy scowled.

“All that to say, you can go,” Stede said evenly.

“As if,” Izzy scoffed.

Stede took on a stern tone. “You have options besides ignore your feelings, making yourself sick, or rotting. You could go to the Revenge, wherever they’ve headed to lately, or the republic—what’s left of it, anyway. Hell, if you just felt like ending things again, you could find Ricky, alone. If you won't talk, at this point, I don't think you ever will, so, I’m out of ways to entice you, outside of using force, and I refuse to do that.”

But he wants to, doesn’t he? Probably does. Everyone around me wants me dead or beaten bloody.

Izzy took a breath. He glanced at the food, feeling his insides churn. He thought about Ed, too, then the crew of the Revenge.

He had two real options. Izzy took a breath, and said what he didn't want to admit. “Fine. Edward, I... have feelings for you. I don't know what the fuck this means for this mess, and if you hate that, I can leave in the morning.”

The silence was crushing and could’ve lasted hours. It didn't have to be anything, they both already knew, anyway. He could deal with his feelings just fine.

Mostly. If Bonnet wasn’t fucking nosy.

Ed grinned. “Good to know. What do you want to have happen now?”

He didn’t know. He was asked to explain his fucking feelings, not have a plan.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated, just what you want to have happen tonight,” Stede said. His hand slipped out of Ed’s grasp and ended up by the tray of food, and more bafflingly, near Izzy. He took it back as soon as Izzy noticed.

“I don’t know,” Izzy admitted, bile in his throat.

Stede nodded. “That’s fine. Maybe we can just sit, enjoy dinner?”

The animosity was gone, like nothing happened.

Stede watched him carefully, trying to notice any tiny twitch in his face. “That sound good or..?”

“You’re being nice.”

Stede furrowed his brow. “I try to be, yes, even when you’re difficult. If this becomes anything, I will have to be nice to you. Maybe you can get used to that.”

“Right,” Izzy muttered. “Nice.”

“If you can’t imagine it, I don't know what to do about you.”

Izzy noticed a minute too late that Ed was the bad kind of quiet. He had a second to wonder why that was and he was right in the middle of one of his infamous plans.

Ed was undoing the tie of the robe he’d absolutely stolen from Stede. He hadn’t stopped liking wearing them, even as he filled them out a lot more than he used to, they used to not cling so much on him, leave a little to the imagination. Ed grinned, of course he did, and left it open. He wasn’t wearing anything but his pants under the thing, of course.

Ed was right there, grinning like an idiot next to his boyfriend, looking happier than he had in years. even with him sitting how he was, seeing him without his clothes covering at least part of the softness was something Izzy couldn’t look away from. Even laying back a little, Ed’s belly brushed his thighs. A few of tattoos had warped a little, which Izzy hadn’t imagined when he thought about how he’d look, along with the stretch marks mapping out exactly where he’d put on weight. He forced himself to look just a little bit higher up, to try and look him in the eye, and he noticed his chest was softer too.

Practically drooling at him, pathetic.

Ed didn’t look like he minded Izzy’s staring one bit. He always used to enjoy attention, though, even the bad kind. His smile widened, and Izzy’s wrist was caught in a familiar grip.

Then, because Edward still hated sharing his plans, he pulled Izzy to his knees in the middle of their bed. He was perfectly fine perched uncomfortably at the edge of their bed, but of course, he wouldn’t just show off and leave it alone.

“You're a dick,” Izzy spat, wrist still caught in his hand.

Ed pouted. When he looked down, he had an unmistakable double chin. “Aww. And you just said you liked me.”

“I still do, just not when you’re doing whatever the fuck this is,” Izzy growled.

Ed smiled again, and when Izzy looked at Stede, to figure out what the fuck was happening, he had the nerve to look amused, as if his boyfriend was being cute. "So, you want the rest of my plan?”

Izzy grimaced. “Do I?”

Ed grinned back at him, a shadow of his old sharp and dangerous smile. “We’re gonna find out. It was getting tense, thought you were gonna stab him for a second there.”

“What, you’re being a distraction so he can gut me like a fish?” Izzy asked, scowling, even if the contact was making his heart race.

Stede made an offended noise. “I would not. Ed cleans any and all seafood he gets for us.”

“Distracting you, absolutely, so you get out of your head for five minutes and stop wondering if there’s a way to fuck this up. You want the rest of the idea now?”

“What else can I do? Course I’ll let you.”

Ed smiled, and Izzy was pulled further. He knew about the leg, everyone did when they looked at him, so why did he do that? Any further and he’d be—

Touching him, practically on top of him, actually. Leave it to his fucking boss—not that he was anymore—to pull a stunt like that.

Izzy had to catch himself with his free hand so he wasn't actually on him. “This was the plan?” he asked, not because he didn’t know, but because he wanted Ed to explain what the hell he was thinking.

“Yup. Your fault, staring at me like that. I thought you'd like to touch me, and you know if I asked, you'd pretend you didn’t want to.”

Izzy hissed out an aggravated sigh, trying to forget where his hand was. He should’ve known not to glance Stede’s way to get any sympathy, because when he did, all he got was as a second smug grin.

“It was entirely his idea, sorry, Izzy.”

“Not that fucking sorry, Bonnet.”

Stede shrugged. “I knew about your feelings before, then I was curious, and since we’re all on the same page now… I think it’s only fair he takes initiative. God knows you wouldn’t. You’re letting him do it, anyway, you know you are.”

“The both of you,” he growled.

Ed was grinning again. “Iz, I let your wrist go a minute ago.”

Izzy didn’t realize his hand was free. Going soft and losing his touch. Great. The warmth from Ed’s skin was tantalizing, he wanted to touch him still, see what he felt like if he actually ate and enjoyed eating.

It was too much, though. He took his hand off his belly and sat back where he was.

Stede was watching him sympathetically. “Can’t get you that comfortable in one night, can we?”

“No.”

“You had fun?” Ed asked.

“Fuck you.”

Ed frowned. “That’s not an answer. You want to sit closer?”

“No.”

Stede reached over and squeezed Ed’s hand. “That’s just fine. We’re still not done with dinner, though, since someone decided to start a fight, you're stuck with us for a bit longer.”

Izzy nodded. he could still eat, apparently Ed could too, based on how he was preoccupied immediately.

Stede’s attention on him got more obvious after a few minutes, murmured praise Izzy refused to hear. He ignored it more readily if he ate while he stewed on his own thoughts, at least. Of course, stealing glances at Ed didn’t help, but it wasn’t like he had many options of places to look. Plus, he was distracting as hell, especially if he was allowed to look at him and think about what he wanted from the situation.

Except he forgot he was getting full before the stupid fight. It wasn’t so bad that he’d be pinned to the spot or nauseous, but he was still full. He’d managed a lot, not as much as Ed, but... that was something he could expect. He pressed his hand into his side, focusing more on Ed and his body rather than his own feelings.

Ed took the last of the food, eventually, and broke the silence. “Guess you're free to—”

Stede cut him off. “Actually, I had one more spur of the moment idea when I got our dinner, if you'd both hear me out? Ed I know you won’t say no, but one more experiment for the night, Izzy?”

Izzy frowned, but Stede continued on.

“It’s dessert. I know he loves it, but you seem to avoid anyone knowing you’ll eat anything sweet unless you think you’re alone. It just so happens I snagged some leftover pastries for us to share, if you’re going to sit with us a bit longer, you’re welcome to them.”

Izzy watched them uncomfortably. “Should I? I’m making you both tense.” Or he was making himself tense.

“That’s up to you. You’re not making anything worse, this is just the first time any of us have tried this, there’s bound to be growing pains, but so far,” he paused, checking in with Ed, who nodded, “we’re doing fine. You won’t make this awkward by choosing to stay or by going back to your room. We can also continue to discuss things, given you want to stay here for the time being.”

He did, given he had any concrete plan, and he had reasons to stay a while longer. a few days at least. Izzy nodded, barely perceptible.

“Was that a yes?” Ed asked.

“It was,” Izzy answered.

Stede brightened. “Great! I figured with any luck we’d finish these, be it between all of us or just Ed and I.”

With any luck meaning he’d get to—or have to—watch Edward take food willingly.

“Still can’t imagine you eating regularly.”

Ed grinned. “Yeah? You need to touch me again and make sure my old stuff doesn’t fit?”

Izzy scowled at him.

“Someday you'll learn to have fun.”

“And even you don’t see it being tonight?”

“You have gotten better, but you’re not relaxed. This is your break from things, right?”

“A break I didn’t plan for.”

Stede furrowed his brow. “Does that mean you have to hate it and fight against it?”

“Means I feel like I should do something.”

Ed winced sympathetically. “Yeah, figures. Took me a while to be sure the other shoe wouldn’t drop, too.”

He wasn't thinking it would, he knew it would. Something would ruin the peace if he gave in. “I don’t want sympathy.”

“Do you mind me giving Ed a bit more direct affection?”

Izzy shook his head.

Stede nodded and took a pastry from the plate, and got halfway to Ed’s mouth before he stopped short. “Actually…”

“I don’t—” Izzy protested.

Stede instead handed him the pastry. “Maybe you’d like to try.”

Try… feeding his boyfriend. Blood rushed to Izzy’s face.

“That’s a yes,” Ed answered for him.

It was, but…

It didn’t matter, really. He could placate them and be done. Izzy moved closer, held it up for Ed, and he bit into it, smiling as he swallowed the bite.

He watched Izzy lazily. “Bet you wish it was always that easy.”

“You have no idea.”

“I remember how it was. You were always terrified I’d starve to death.”

“Can we not just get this over with?”

“Depends. How long are you going to refuse to say you’re enjoying what’s happening tonight?”

“I could shut you up with this,” he warned.

“You could,” Ed agreed.

He didn’t though, he just stopped arguing, and soon enough, his fingertips met Ed’s tongue.

He grinned, every ounce the pirate he used to be. “Sorry, Iz. Crumbs and all.”

“Can’t bear to leave them, can you? Fuckin’ greedy these days, boss.”

“And you’re never giving that up, are you?”

“Old dogs and new tricks. Plus, you don’t hate it.”

“I don’t. Any chance I can have another one?”

“Fucking hell, really?”

Ed shrugged. “Yeah. Not that full yet.”

Izzy let his hand slide onto Ed’s belly, silent and reverent. He really could take more, and Izzy could take a tiny amount of credit in getting him bigger. Most of it was Stede’s work, but now...

“Please?”

Always that look of his, dark eyes practically sparkling.

“I already know you want it.” Izzy muttered, taking another pastry.

He never imagined it would be so simple. It was almost too easy. He slipped right where he was used to being, to the time before it started arguments or bit him in the ass.

A familiar hand was touching Ed when he was halfway through his second bite.

“Good work, my love. I think you’ve got room for at least one more, soon as Izzy’s done with you.”

His face snapped to Stede’s and he jolted to attention.

Stede grinned. “Distracted you too, did he?”

“Fuck off,” he muttered, not meaning a word.

“Soon as you’re done with him, you can eat your share. I think you can take more, too, with how I saw you last night. Are you still feeling the effects from that?”

Izzy shrugged. “I feel fine. I didn’t think you’d care, though.”

“Of course I care. You’re our guest, and if this turns into a relationship, or if you end up involved with just Ed, even on occasion, I think it’s important I keep an eye on you and know how you’re doing.”

And half their conversations ended in arguments or insults already. “Course you do. You’re too soft for your own good.”

“For a pirate, sure. For an innkeeper, I’d say I’m doing just fine. Except you’s probably prefer I go rougher. Or you like Ed that way, and I assume you don’t take to kindness well.”

“I don’t,” Izzy said, realizing yet again, that his fingers were getting licked clean. “You can afford to miss the crumbs, you know.”

“And leave you stuck in your head? Can’t do that.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to fuck with me, at least.”

“It’s fun. You like when I fuck with you, and I like your reaction. Plus, if it keeps you from fighting with Stede.”

“I’m not fighting, I’m making my point.”

“If you’re miserable, you don’t have to stay,” Stede said.

He wasn’t miserable, just felt… stuck. Not even in a bad way, but like he was going to see this whole mess through, whatever it really was.

“You good?” Ed asked.

“Fine,” he muttered, swallowing the remnants of a pastry he shouldn't have shoved in his mouth so fast.

Stede reached over and gently squeezed his hand, before immediately dropping it. “Sorry,” he murmured.

“It’s fine. If I’m allowed to slip into how I used to be around him, you can forget we’re not in the take my hand out of nowhere stage of things like you are with him.”

“Still, I hate to cross lines with you like that.”

“You won’t break me, it takes more than just touching me.”

Stede nodded, dropping the issue.

Of course, the one way to not watch, besides leaving, was to distract himself with food. Any other distraction would end up making things feel worse.

 
Ed was watching him again by the time he glanced up, eyes narrowed and brow wrinkled. “You want something.”

He did, and he didn't like being transparent.

“Just ask. I don't mind you admiring the view but, come on. This is about you figuring shit out, right?”

Izzy took a breath. “Can I touch you?”

Ed smiled. “Easy enough, yeah? Course you can. Come here. I’d get up but… kinda stuck like this 'less you’re gonna both help me.”

Stede glanced at Izzy, then back at Ed. “I’m afraid neither of us mind that much, love.”

Izzy slowly moved towards the middle fo the bed again, letting Stede shift to give him space. It was awkward and clumsy, but he did it.

“There you go, Iz. Practically had to beg.”

“Sorry, boss,” he said and cringed.

“Don’t look guilty you said it. I really don’t mind, I just gave you shit over it earlier since I’m not really your boss.”

“Izzy, have you forgotten what you were after?” Stede was watching them both amusedly.

He did, for a minute there. Izzy swallowed, slowly taking his hand and touching Ed again, this time making sure he wouldn't get overwhelmed and give up. His touch was delicate, tracing over the skin again, like he hadn’t touched him already.

The second he tried to move his hand away, Ed pushed himself into his hand like a cat, silently asking him to keep touching. Feeling the slight give made Izzy almost choke. He was getting too soft for his own good, getting this worked up over nothing.

“Fuck,” Izzy breathed, then clamped his mouth shut. Heat rose to his face and he tightened his jaw.

“You can go harder than that, Iz. You won’t break me.”

“Sure I can’t,” he muttered.

“You really can’t. You’ve tried to, remember? It didn’t work. Not long-term anyway. Don’t think you can’t get a little rough when you’re touching me.”

Izzy nodded. “You can really eat these days.” He took him a little harder, grabbing a soft part at his hip and taking a handful. “Looks damn good on you, you know.”

Ed grinned. “Glad you like it. I should remember not to expect the worst from you.”

“Probably should,” Izzy agreed, slowly taking his hands off him again, trying to gauge silently if anything was too far for Bonnet's liking, making any reference to his feelings outside of the admission of having them at all. So far, he hadn't found a line, and that made him more nervous than the ordeal of trying to figure out his own comfort with the situation. He decided he shouldn’t try saying more, in case he ruined anything.

Just before the quiet got too tense, Stede spoke up. “I don't suppose you two want more of our dessert? There’s a few left still.”

Izzy found himself a little impressed by his sense for a silence getting too awkward. He forced the feeling out of his brain, shrugged and took another, feeling stupid about the ordeal yet again.

Soon enough, one way or another, they ate the rest of their dessert. Izzy was overly full, but getting coaxed to take more was... nice. Better than eating alone, he had to admit.

“Good work, both of you. I'm glad I didn’t overestimate either of your appetites.”

Or his own, Izzy saw Stede take his share of them while he had Ed occupied.

Ed caught his eye, looking like a puppy. “Would you want to do this again, Iz?”

“You're welcome to do this again, or having Ed alone, you only have to ask,” Stede added.

Izzy nodded.

“But you don’t have to decide on a thing right now, we can talk it over in the morning.”

“Always happy to talk to you, Iz.”

Of all the changes, that was probably the best one.

“Glad you will,” he said.

“One last thing. Do you need help getting back to your room or…” Stede’s voice trailed off, like he was deciding to make an offer.

“You could sleep in here,” Ed finished, sitting up and wincing for a second, unsettling his very full belly. “I get it if you don’t want to, but you can.”

He didn’t trust them to be normal if he said yes, and he also didn’t trust his leg to not fuck him over and leave him on his ass if he got up and left on his own. The realization made him flush.

“Stede, can you help me out? Sorry to ruin this, I just can’t do that right now.”

“Perfectly alright. I really thought it’d be a bridge too far for one night. Just one request, if I may?”

Izzy nodded.

“If you feel like you can’t sleep, maybe find us before you eat like that alone.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Good. Now, come on.”

Stede put a hand on his lower back, keeping him steady, even if he didn’t need the help, and walked him to the spare bedroom, lingering at the door.

“Good night, Izzy,” Stede said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to Izzy’s cheek. “See you in the morning for breakfast.”

Izzy couldn’t do anything but silently nod and open the door, standing alone in his room.

What the fuck was that ?

Chapter Text

Ed and Stede were left once again waiting on Izzy to find them and eat a meal together and have a conversation. They had to either make it less of a habit, or their planning had to be better. Stede knew it was sort of his fault, he didn't specify when in the morning, he guessed he’d be up at his usual hour, but that hour came and went and there was no Izzy, and no noise from his room that meant he was awake, but ignoring them both.

“Do you think he’s gonna ignore us again?” Ed asked, when the quiet was disconcerting.

“I doubt it, after last night. I do think we can start without him, though. He’s dropping his usual schedule by sleeping in, and I think he knows I won’t leave him his breakfast after last night. I told him I'd see him for breakfast, so I think he’s just sleeping right now.”

“Yeah. You think it went okay?”

“Better than okay. He may not have loved how you asked him to sleep with us, but I think it was a decent offer. He looked exhausted by the end of it, the poor thing. I think we wore him out.”

“He did, seems like we did too, he’s never slept in this often. You know, I didn’t think he’d be so… touchy with me. I made him touch me a couple times, since he was almost drooling just staring at me, but... I thought he’d try and stab me for it, but he took it surprisingly well. I think he really wants a relationship with me.”

“You thought he wouldn’t? The man has pined for you for a long time, and he said he had feelings for you, under duress, but still.” Stede had, admittedly, taken bit of a tone with him, but honestly, he was a grownup, and a pirate, ex-pirate, dubiously. He could handle getting snapped at, and, it was Stede’s own past that made him wonder if he went too hard on a man who was used to it. It went alright, even if he did overstep.

“Friendship, yeah. A relationship as in dating, fuck no. I thought when I assumed you dumped me that would’ve broken the liking me at all part of his brain forever. It’s nice that it’s not, but I’m still sorta surprised, after all the shit I pulled with him.”

“I’m still a bit in shock that he’s alright with me these days, too. I think it’s fair. I also think when he gets here, we can see how he’s doing and figure out what he wants to have happen from there.”

“I have my guesses if it’s with me, but if it’s anything to do with you I have no idea what he's going to say.”

“I don’t either. I wouldn’t mind it, really, I think he’s almost sweet on occasion, and that’s certainly something. He let me hold his hand before I remembered myself. He’s not been actively angry with me in a bit, either. —Ah, good morning, Izzy,” Stede said, seeing the man appear irritably. He smiled at him, but Izzy wasn't having it. “Did you know we were discussing you or was that just chance?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Izzy asked, seething through every word.

“Right you are. I have an explanation to give,” Stede said, practically ignoring the outburst. He knew that was coming, he’d been a little nervous about that after he kissed him. It was more an impulse than a true decision, and Izzy’s reaction was still yet to be fully seen. He had learned by now his irritation was usually hiding something else, he just needed to be patient enough to wait and see what he was really thinking.

“Like hell,” he spat, lingering by the open chair.

Ed raised an eyebrow and gave Stede a look that clearly said: what’s up with him?

He hadn’t told Ed, either. Not out of fear of an accusation of cheating or anything of the sort, of course, explaining at breakfast just seemed more convenient than waking his dozing boyfriend the night before, or explaining it at breakfast without the other involved party present.

Stede nodded at Ed and explained. “I was waiting for you to come in, Izzy, so I could save us the trouble of explaining myself twice. Ed, last night I kissed him on the cheek, sort of an informal goodnight since I walked him to his room. It felt right in the moment, but, Izzy, I take it you’re taking issue?”

“Taking fucking issue? Like this is work, and you made a shitty call. Work that you two don’t even do anymore,” Izzy fumed.

“Hey, c’mon Iz, we—” Ed protested.

Stede gently took his boyfriend’s hand and squeezed. “Let him go, just for a moment, love, let’s see how he's feeling after he gets it out of his system.”

“And now—breakfast?” Izzy spluttered. “Treating me like this, doing this in the first fucking place, going to the trouble of dealing with me at all, and now—?”

Stede bit back a smile, he rarely found the man to be intimidating, and he was being almost cute with how petulantly he was acting. “I told you I’d see you in the morning. It’s morning, and I’m seeing you, it seems this whole thing is quite tied to food, also, and again, it’s morning, so, yes, breakfast. I believe Ed told you the same, or similar. He asked you to stay the night, and that’s a bit more intimate than a kiss on the cheek. You can sit down, by the way. You’re lingering.”

“After you fucking kissed me, Bonnet. Even for you that’s—”

“Did you like it?” Ed asked.

Stede had figured that Izzy was more or less done arguing. Ed probably thought the same, or he wanted to work him up a little more. Either way, the problem of a very irritable ex-first mate was about to be solved.

“I—” Izzy frowned and sighed, ending his sentence there, sitting down defeated.

Ed grinned. “Sounds like someone wants in on this, then.”

Those were Stede’s thought's exactly. Last night had promise, despite the few minor snags. It didn't feel fair to make him decide on anything without a good conversation and some sleep, though.

“You’re both nightmares,” he spat.

Ed grinned. “And you like us, as in both of us. What’s that make you, Iz?”

“A complete fucking idiot, that’s what,” he snapped in reply.

“Should I pass you some toast? And the jam? You seemed a bit fond of that last—” Stede suggested, getting cut off by an angry growl.

“We’re still talking about it?” Izzy snapped.

Ed chuckled. “Well, yeah, Iz. It’s kind of what happens. You had dinner with us, he kissed you afterwards to say goodnight, apparently you liked that, now we’re gonna talk about what happened, because I think everyone had fun.”

“Fun,” Izzy spat with disdain.

Stede bit back another smile. “It’s what it’s called when you get invited to an impromptu date and end up having a nice evening with a couple you enjoy the company of a great deal. By definition, you, Israel, had fun last night.”

“Gonna be real fuckin’ fun when I slit both your goddamn throats,” he grumbled.

Stede furrowed his brow. “Yes or no to the toast?”

“Fine,” Izzy said, taking two slices and spreading jam over both.

Stede chuckled. “Any thoughts on the offer, how you’d like this to go? I know with Ed you’d want a relationship, but… that’s only one part of the situation. Not to sound self-centered but… I don’t know what you want considering me.”

Izzy blanched. “It hasn’t even been a full day.”

“And there’s no rush, just with how you reacted morning, I think you have stronger feelings about this than you’re letting on.”

Izzy glared at him.

The power of his glare didn’t work on Stede anymore. To be fair it’d been waning from the day they met. “Purely guesswork, I promise. I'm not trying to make you do anything. You just had a nice evening, and you’re still here. Speaking of you being here, actually, and there's still no rush on deciding, you're still staying here for a bit longer? It can be argued that you sorted things with Ed, so...”

Izzy made a particularly sour face. “Haven't figured out the details of it yet. I'd rather go back to the Revenge, but half the crew still have complicated feelings about you, Edward, and they all think I'm dead. That last one’s the main problem, besides the fact you two have no idea where they were headed because they probably won't say anything for one reason or another.”

“True. But you’re okay staying in your room until... whenever it’s figured out?” Ed asked.

Izzy shrugged. “It’s my best option. Plus this is a thing, now. Have to be around you both if it’s a thing.”

“If that’s what you’d like to have happen. It seems to me like you’ve decided on it, but, again, you aren’t a fan of saying so. There’s just a tiny problem with that and it’s that I have no idea what you want or like if you don’t say it.” Stede was beginning to wonder if he’d ever understand him.

“Ask your boyfriend,” Izzy muttered.

“We were discussing it. I still don't know if you actually like me or if you’re tolerating me to keep the peace.”

Ed smiled crookedly. “I think he likes you, if you want my opinion again, knowing what I know now. I don't think he’d let anyone kiss him without permission and let them live through it if he didn't like them a little.”

“Oh. Is that so?”

Izzy chewed his bite of toast irritably. “Fuck you.”

“Would that mean you want to enjoy another meal with us or with Ed or I alone, maybe tonight?”

“If you want to ask me on a fucking dinner date, Bonnet, say that,” he growled.

“Oh, really? Well then, Izzy, maybe you’d like to have dinner with me? We could eat in your bedroom, it’d be more convenient for you that way.”

“In my room? Why?”

“Where do I get to go if you're in our room, Iz? The living room? I don't want to sleep on the sofa if you two have fun without me, and I bet you want to be alone with him, for whatever it is you want. Bet you won’t want to eat in here with him alone, either. It’s less awkward between you if you're in a bedroom where you can, y’know, close a door if you need to,” Ed said, explaining further just to get a rise out of him.

Izzy flushed. “Fair. You really want to do this? You know what I'm like.”

“And I suspect you want something from me that Ed can’t offer you, or what he won't offer you. It’s why you’d want to be around me romantically, after all. So... dinner date. You offered.”

Izzy rubbed his hand over his face. “I did that. Someday I’ll kill myself with my own horrible fucking plan, won’t I?”

“Hopefully not for a long while, if that's how it goes. Its a plan, regardless.”

Stede had absolutely no idea what to expect about Izzy. He never really did, outside of anger and frustration radiating off him, but he’d relaxed as of late.

He technically asked him to eat dinner together, even. That was a step in a direction, certainly. He’d see if it was a good one.

He got their meal, including a treat that he hoped Izzy would appreciate but worst case he would enjoy with Ed, and knocked on his door.

In the silent moments of rustling and uneven footsteps, the door opened before Stede could wonder if Izzy didn’t want to see him and agreed to eat dinner for no particular purpose.

“Hello.”

“Bonnet,” he greeted.

It was either a quirk of his or just a sign of disrespect that he scarcely, if ever, just called him Stede. He could take a page out of his book, come to think of it, avoid wondering and start knowing.

“Why won't you call me Stede? If we're anything, we’re equals here.” Also you call Ed his name. Or boss, which he finds endearing. It felt like a point of jealousy in his own head, and it brought uncomfortable things to mind. Not terribly uncomfortable but...

Izzy shrugged. “Doesn't feel right. You gonna stand in the hallway all night?”

Stede hid most of his smile as he walked in. Of the ways to say please, come in, it was certainly a unique one. He paused momentarily, trying to figure out where he should sit. Izzy noticed and sat on the bed, nodding for him to do the same.

“This is a thing, whatever it is, may as well, yeah?”

"So long as you're comfortable. So, I had a thought, about tonight and why you'd ask me and not Ed for time alone.”

Izzy looked at him like he was asking if he was that stupid.

“I didn't think you liked me in the first place. You tolerate me, as do most people, but I didn't expect you to go through with this. It made me ask Ed why he thought you did that, outside my prodding in that direction. He had an interesting thought. You can tell me if he’s right. He figured that you were in the mood for pain. He won’t give it to you, but you have a taste for it anyway, I also assume that didn’t change, and I thought it made sense. Your thoughts on the matter?”

Izzy made a particularly sour face. “Leave it to him, I guess.”

“That was it? You do know I'm not... versed in violence, right? Usually it’s an accident, pure luck, or you taught me what to do. I also don’t think I could—ah. A stomachache is pain, isn’t it? Not quite your level of torture, I suspect, the last time you had much of that was what, Ned, his crew? I won’t be branding you with a hot poker, that’s a bit far, for my tastes.”

“And you do that thing where you can be sharp while you’re being nice.”

“Passive aggression,” Stede supplied. “Or you mean my captain voice and I haven't really used that on you. Yet. I could, if you liked, I’m decently versed in that with Ed, he doesn't have much a taste for taking the lead in the bedroom these days, most nights I end up doing that if it comes up in the first place. Anyway. Thoughts?”

He probably talked too much, too fast, and lost him. Stede allowed for a pause, and in it, Izzy answered.

“I think it doesn't sound bad. You know what I did alone, plus half the times you brought me food I forced it down by the end, giving me as much as Ed could eat. It sounds doable, and like you’ll do the passive aggressive shit with me, which I... don't hate.”

Stede smiled, holding none of its intensity back. “Great! I’ll admit I did bring a bit more than I thought we’d eat, sort of assuming you’d push your limits even without me presumably helping.”

“Fine with me,” Izzy replied.

“I want this to go well. I’d rather the man my boyfriend is involved with tolerate me. It’s a high bar for you.”

Izzy scoffed. “I already tolerate you.”

“Oh, of course you do, you're here. I'm here, rather. Sorry. Believe it or not I've never done this. Not an impromptu dinner date, but a date with honestly anyone but Ed. My ex-wife and I were not close.”

“I can guess why.”

Stede grimaced. “Obvious in hindsight, I know. Feel free to laugh.”

“Nah. Ed and I practically grew up in this shit, y’know. Hard not to realize you like cock in your mouth or anywhere else if you're around basically only men for months at a time.”

“True. You're being nice tonight, should I prepare myself to get Ed to remove the knife you're going to stick between my ribs?”

“Why would I do that? Be a lot of work to stab you with—whatever knife that worthless shit is.” he scowled at the knife, and its lack of sharp edge.

“Butter knife. Good for... butter, mainly. Speaking of, there’s some available if you'd like to eat it with the bread.”

He seemed to coax himself into eating with bread. He was lucky he took half a loaf, slicked it thickly so they'd avoid having to tear it. Or else he’d have to extricate a bread knife from his body.

But, Izzy seemed to be in a good mood, not the stabbing mood. Pre-slicing made it more convenient regardless.

He quieted his racing thoughts with a slice of bread, taking after their main dish and watching Izzy enjoy himself even slightly.

“Why’d you want to do this? You don't have to like me.”

“I like you regardless. You're loyal, and you love Ed like I do. We have things in common, like how you're exactly as stubborn as I can be."

“Your idea for this, hurting me with dinner, how do you plan to go about it?”

“Well, I figure when you decide you don’t want to slit my throat, maybe when you’ve had half of that and think you're full, I can tempt you to finish what’s left. I’ve seen leftovers disappear in the night, so I have a vague idea of how much you force down. I don't need to worry about either of you starving, but,” he grazed his fingers across the belly that had settled on Izzy’s middle, to his irritation, “I think this is settling on you for a reason. You adore it on Ed, and I think you deserve to enjoy yourself while you’re here. If you happen to need help realizing how much can be your fill... so be it.”

“You feel like losing fingers today, Bonnet?” Izzy growled.

“No, was that out of line? Fair play. Still... if you’d let me touch you, I’d like to.”

“Fine,” Izzy growled. It was almost so quiet Stede didn’t catch it.

“You’re an odd one.”

“You're not any better,” he muttered through a mouthful of food.

“No. And I can’t be Ed for you. I imagine you know that. The question then becomes why exactly you wanted this.” He gently tilted his head up, feeling him swallow. “And why you’ll let me touch you.”

Izzy took control of his head back and went back to eating.

“I can’t very well go rougher on you and then have you not want to say when it’s too much. Will you tell me if it’s too much?”

“If it makes you feel better.”

“We’ve gotten somewhere. You like making things a challenge.”

Izzy may have shivered at his tone. Getting somewhere, finally. Maybe I can push him harder.

“You’d think I starve you, as much as you’ve downed already. Not that it’s bad, just unexpected, especially with you, although I don’t think you get that,” he took a bit of his belly in his hand and squeezed, “from skipping meals all too often. I’m sure I helped with that, but there's something to be said about a hands on lesson, isn’t there?”

“Gonna fatten me up, Bonnet?”

“Stede,” he corrected sharply. “And if you can’t stomach that? Sir.”

Stede didn't expect the tone or words from his own mouth, and neither had Izzy they both straightened in mild shock. He’d finally gotten his number, and it was even a bit thrilling. He never did anything so... cruel with Ed, he didn’t have a taste for it, and Stede didn't think he had a taste for being so rough, but apparently...

“Sir,” he spat, venom and disdain in his voice. “You think you earned that?”

Stede took his own fork and got a bite of food for Izzy. “Eat. Maybe it’ll make you less sour. I said it was that or calling me my first name. It’s your decision what I earned from you.”

He took the food and ate, swallowing before replying. “Fine, Stede.”

Stede smiled. “Well, that’s that sorted for the moment. Good work following orders, too. Still, eat. Unless you don't think you can take more.”

Izzy ate on his own, but from experience he knew pretty well that he was slowing down and would need help.

“A bit more, Izzy. Then I also got dessert. If it’s too much though, I won’t make you.”

“I’m alright, Stede.”

He liked the sound of his name in his mouth. Sure it had taken mild threats to hear it with consistency, but it was worthwhile.

"Good to hear. Can I touch you without threat of you slicing my fingers off?”

“I told you before to do what you wanted.”

“And can I undo your pants? They seem to be digging in a bit.”

Izzy stared in reply, then focused back on his food.

Stede took that as a repeated do what you want, and did what he wanted, letting the softness spill out from its confinements.

“I’m really doing a number on you aren’t I? Or you’re just this zealous when given orders.” He touched his belly again, fingertips barely grazing his shirt, and Izzy didn’t move, outside of swallowing his bite of food. “And this is certainly new. I think you're going soft, Israel.”

Izzy gave him a look of defiance.

“If you'd rather I not say it, you can avoid eating whatever I give you. I think Ed would appreciate this though, looks nice on you.”

“And I have to eat dessert after all this?”

“If you want to. If you wanted a taste of what Ed and I do on occasion, this is it. Bit more intimate and less argumentative but this is more or less what happens.”

Izzy opened his mouth to retort, but he burped. “Fuck.”

“It happens. So, you want help?”

“What happens if I say no?”

“Then I'll just keep watching you. Probably also making comments.”

“Great. Fine, you can help. Figure it’ll Be easier if you did.”

“Mhm. You did really well, you know. Ed’s portions and all. But he has also downed half a cake barely needing my encouragement, and I won't be doing that to you tonight, I suspect even for your limits, that’s a lot.”

“Would be. He did that?”

“He did. We could see if he’d show you sometime. I bet he wouldn’t say no. He’s got a hell of an appetite these days. I’m sure you know that, how you were with him.”

“And you're no slouch either.”

“I tend naturally towards gluttony.”

“Figures, considering how you lived until you met him.”

Stede smiled uncomfortably. “To a degree, yes. Back on the dessert train of thinking, though, do you want dessert?”

“Figures. I can take it.”

“I know you can. You’ve done admirably this far.” He let his hand flatten against his belly, pressing in just a little. “If you keep up with his pace, you'll catch up with him, you know.”

“You said dessert, Bonnet.”

“That one was on purpose, was it? Fine, if you want punishment, you know what you get with me by now.” He pushed the forkful of dessert into his mouth, then when he swallowed, he gave him another. “In case you care, it’s orange cake, Ed told me earlier, when he tested it with me, that it may be a good breakfast, which it well could. and as I'm sure you can tell, it is heavily flavored with oranges. I tend to play to Ed’s tastes. If you’d tell me what you liked, I'd play to yours, but you, so far, refuse to do that.

He learned he’d misjudged Izzy by the time he was halfway done with the slice and groaning.

“Done?” Stede asked.

“Never.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'm good at pain.”

“So the idea was sound. Good. You still want the rest of the slice?”

“You’re not stupid, are you?”

Stede let him have another few bites before giving him a short break to touch him and get to enjoy his body.

“You're a very interesting person, you know.”

“Why?”

“Food takes so much of that bite out of you. I saw it last night but... it’s something else when Ed’s not around. And then, you like me, and you're so easy to push to do things and eager to please. I didn't think I'd enjoy this, if I can be honest with you. I went in thinking I'd be fulfilling your needs and trying to figure out how else you could have your needs met that don’t involve me causing you direct pain.”

“You like it?”

“Not in the way you’d assume. I like watching you push yourself. Plus, seeing you stuck on the floor before you knew this was anything... it was a hell of a sight, just so you know. It wasn't for my eyes, but I still saw exactly how far that feeling took you and you really went for it. You don’t do things by halves, is my point, I suppose, and I like that about you.”

“I can take more. You don't have to stop on my account.”

“I think you needed that break and wouldn’t say so.”

Stede kept staring at his body, finding he wanted to see a bit more than the slightest sliver of bare skin. “Mind taking that shirt off for me, Izzy?”

Izzy shrugged and did it anyway.

Stede marveled at his body for as long as Izzy let him, seeing how he’d truly gotten softer, his chest and belly in particular. He had new stretch marks, striping up his skin in red streaks. Eventually Stede ended the impromptu break from the cake and let him eat more, letting him finish the slice with a bit of convincing. He avoided saying what he wanted, knowing it was more something Ed would enjoy versus Izzy. The man didn't take compliments well and he wasn't about to push it by touching or kissing him without thinking. He could get it out of his system with Ed anyway.

Stede realized in the silence that Izzy had been awfully cooperative. A question came to mind after a couple of minutes of seeing him almost panting under his full belly.

“Why do you like me?” he asked.

He smiled ruefully, and got a little more comfortable. “I probably shouldn't, you're right. You do a lot of shit that annoys me, but it's endearing, lately. I don’t do things that are good for me anyway, what’s one more thing on the pile, I figure.”

“What used to annoy you that doesn’t now?”

“The way you're just so—particular, about everything. And the way you love Edward, since I care about him too, I see what you did for him and his brain. I don't think I can be fixed like that, and I know you're going to try.”

“I’ve given up on trying to make you like me, anyway. Right when you decided you did, just about. And I am not that particular. I happen to enjoy nice things. I would think you, mister black tea or coffee only, would agree with me with some points of my particularity. You like that sort of thing on occasion. How was the ginger, by the way?”

“Was like you said, spicy, not my usual, but it was fine for what it was.”

“That’s ginger if it’s concentrated for you. Helped you digest, I assume?”

Izzy shrugged. “Worked out, didn't feel so sick after.”

“I should’ve made a pot of the stuff tonight, damn.”

“Maybe if I get to watch Edward eat half a cake sometime, you can make more then, Stede. Make a day of it, or night, however it works out. Not like I won’t indulge like this again then, or whenever you two ask me to have a diner date or whatever the fuck this is.”

“I wasn’t really that serious about making you call me Stede. I sort of mind, true, and it is nice to hear you call me my name, but it’s not necessary. I only really mind that tiny amount because I was referred to by my last name exclusively by various people to bring attention to my family and their reputation, one I didn’t uphold well until… ever, really. They were pleased I secured things with a wife and children but it started and ended there. To your credit, it sounds better from you than a bully or grownup when I was a child. Anything’s better than being the Bonnet boy, though, lectured for causing trouble for my family by doing nothing specific but existing, or getting pushed around by other boys, or doing what I liked doing when I was young that wasn’t masculine enough for anyone’s tastes.”

Izzy blinked and straightened. “Didn’t know about that.”

Stede shrugged it off. “Ed only knows a little of it, after what happened when I left, he knows the bullying aspect, not the family reputation of it all, he calls me my first name, I don’t feel the need to explain it all to him. It’s also just… a bit odd, I think, me complaining to you two of all people, him especially, about how difficult my life of privilege and having enough food every day was. My parents weren’t perfect, but… you know, they tolerated me well enough, and there’s levels to that sort of thing, they never physically hurt me to the point they left marks. We had plenty of money and I got to live comfortably without earning it for most of my life and certainly my entire childhood. My mother was kinder than my father ever was, but she worried about my—or her husband’s—legacy just the same.”

“I get where you’re coming from a little. I also know that no pirate, or ex-pirate, in your case, leaves home for no reason at all. Far as I’ve seen, at least, being at this shit for long enough, outside of a join or die ultimatum, even then, it’s join or… die, it’s something. Shitty family, dead parent or parents, getting rid of a mouth to feed because you heard them talk about it and worry about keeping everyone fed, figured you’d solve it there, or you’re running away from whatever it is that you know would be miserable, or a problem you’d rather solve by never showing your face again, it’s something. Sounds like a stifling kind of life in your case. I know I don’t envy you for it.”

“Don’t lie to make me feel better,” Stede snapped. “It won’t work, and I’m just fine, I’ve had plenty of time to get over myself about it. I left behind a son and daughter who will probably always have problems around abandonment, and hate my guts for leaving then going back and trying to play dutiful paternal figure when I never was, and an ex-wife who’s frankly doing far better without me in her life. And I’m happy here, not thinking about it anymore because I can’t fix what I destroyed because I was selfish.”

“I’m not lying. You think I’d lie about that to you?”

“I don’t know. It struck a nerve I didn’t know was quite so raw. I shouldn’t have snapped, for that I’m sorry. I can handle you telling the truth to me regardless, I’ve been lied to and lied to myself long enough to last a lifetime.”

“I still say it sounds damn miserable, even compared to my bullshit and why I went to piracy. My parents weren’t the type to be interested in me. We didn’t have money either, course, because who did then, outside of your lot. Knowing your and Ed’s stories, I think it’s the best thing they could’ve been.”

“They could’ve loved you,” Stede pointed out. “Or not had you if they wanted so badly to be alone and unbothered.” His bitter tone came off as a personal problem he had with his own upbringing, but it wasn’t like he expected or wanted Izzy to notice.

“Not many people like me, Bo—Stede. You and him are outliers, I’m not the type of man people like. Wasn’t even as a kid. Too harsh usually, not friendly enough for other kids to tolerate me, too quick to fight, not very many nice bones in my body, especially not these days, any I had are probably long gone. But, it all just means piracy works for me. Or worked, however this all shakes out.”

He didn’t know he had any intention to quit. He honestly thought someday Izzy would get tired and leave, not get tired and stay. “I think you could do it.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow. “You’re confident tonight.”

“Truly, I think it would happen. You’ll hate when I say this, too, but it doesn’t make it any less true. I suspect you’d be promoted.”

Izzy blanched. “To..?”

It was worse than he assumed, if he had hangups there, of all places. “Captain. What else? You were, if I can say, a great first mate, and teacher, given you had time to even things out, you’d deserve it.”

“I died, you know. And I didn’t go back, still haven’t practically deserted like you two did.”

“Retired, actually. I cant say what it is you're doing, because our case was different. They barely tolerated him and it was because of me so nay slip, and I suspect he feared mutiny and murder after you died. I also think it would’ve gone poorly if you went back the day I found you. Part of why I was hoping you’d stay, figured a week or so, but, far be it from me to judge your schedule. I wasn’t sure you’d survive the night trying to find them back then. You had a touch of a death wish for a bit there. Plus, I knew Ed would be crushed if he heard anyone who looked like you was around, and he’d never trust it was really you raising hell.”

Izzy scoffed. “My hell raising days are long over, you know.”

“Doesn’t have to be that way. You only died when a complete prick who didn’t deserve to get to do that to you shot you and you bled out because—“

“I was too damn slow,” Izzy finished, cutting him off.

“Because we couldn’t administer first aid before you bled out and your Captain had a plan that wasn’t entirely watertight, and hinged on too many things going too well, if an accident like that fucked it up. With that being a moot point, since it wasn’t your fault you got shot or died, and you were the glue that kept them together when Ed terrorized them. There’s a reason only one man died, when Ed was like that, and it was likely you. They won’t forget that,” Stede corrected.

“And they’ll take me coming back from the dead perfectly well.”

“Ed and I—well.” He grimaced. “I like to believe I did alright ,considering the circumstances of thinking you were a raccoon, and finding you walking around, body intact. Give them time and they’ll adjust. Although they do still think he killed Buttons. I think it’ll go alright, regardless. They’d trust your word.”

“Course you would. Nothing ever goes unexpectedly for you, does it?”

He smiled ruefully. “More than a few times, actually. I just have hope that things will eventually turn out. Run away from a man’s drunken suicide, hearing you ruined a man’s life, a man you love, and end up going back to a family who didn’t miss you. I don’t know what I expected after Nigel shot himself. I thought he’d shoot me, really. He would’ve, but he slipped. That’s why I faked my own death and came back. It was selfish, but… I knew I loved him and knew I had to fix my mistakes. I also didn’t intend to get you killed, I cared about my crew, even if you were slightly more terse with me back then.”

“You didn’t intend to leave him.”

“God, no. We made a plan to sneak out. Obviously, it didn’t go so well. I didn’t mean for it to get you hurt by him, either.”

“Took it so they didn’t have to,” Izzy said.

“Which means, they’ll want you to join them again even more since that’s the case, and as I said, make you captain. Are you tired of my company yet?”

“They mutinied and tried to kill me,” he muttered.

Stede furrowed his brow. “When?”

“After you two got arrested and taken away, just before he came back alone.”

“That’s probably why. Not to say the torture leveled you out, of course, but… you’re different than you were then. Exactly as rough around the edges but a little kinder, certainly more patient. The Izzy back then would’ve told me to go fuck myself if I went to him asking to learn to be a real pirate.”

“Played to my ego, too, that helped your case. That’s why they won’t mutiny again?”

“And a solid number of them adore you. They made your prosthetic. Do you really think they did that because they’d rather you rot?”

“No, I know they don’t want me to rot. Still doesn’t mean I think I deserve it.” Something nearing fondness crossed his expression, then in a blink, it was gone.

“The best people for a job are sometimes the ones who don’t want it, and I think you’d be a damn fine leader of that crew. You had fun tonight?”

“Course I did.”

“I wouldn’t suppose you’d enjoy a bit of intimacy? You can say no, Ed’s down the hall. Speaking of him, mind if I let him know what we got up to tonight?”

“I don’t mind either thing, tell him what you want.”

“Good. Ed monopolized your affection last night,” he teased. “I didn’t feel left out, of course. Seeing you around him is a nice thing just the same. I also had no idea if you even enjoyed my company or put up with me because I was the only option or I made you do it, or you put up with my nonsense because of how you feel about Ed.”

“You’re a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“You let me kiss you.”

“On the cheek, it’s not like that meant–”

Stede cut him off by pushing him back with a quick kiss on the lips. He pulled himself away and grinned. “How’s that for weirdo?”

Izzy glared at him, although it lacked his usual irritation. “You’re as bad as him sometimes. I don’t hate that.”

“You clearly don’t, face going red like that, poor thing, so embarrassed.” He cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb over the x under his eye, gently, but still with a dash of condescension. He let his fingers trail down his throat and let go, forgetting he wasn’t with Ed and didn’t know exactly what he liked outside of a touch of tenseness and a rougher hand.

“Don’t rub it in,” he growled.

“Can I touch you? No more surprise kisses, I swear.”

“Fine.”

Stede took his permission and used it immediately, grabbing at what he could on his body, squeezing the lower softer part of his body. The looseness of his long since borrowed, now effectively his, shirts had been less noticeable lately but he hadn’t known why that was until he saw exactly how much softer he’d made him. Or how he’d done that to himself, between his binges of leftover food. “Glad I talked you out of that shirt. If I’m allowed to say, I like this look better than when I saw you practicing with the candles. Sturdier now, not that you weren't then. I suppose that belies my taste in men, though.”

“You’re still going on about the fucking candles?”

“In good fun, yes I am. You took every candle you could find, used them to practice without wondering if maybe they were needed elsewhere. I take it you haven’t gotten to practice so much lately, not for a lack of candles, but…”

“Lack of weapon,” Izzy finished.

Stede smiled. “Funny thing about that. There’s some spare blades stored away somewhere or other, I’m nearly completely certain, or one Ed’s stashed away for self-defense. Later on, I can help you dig though the things we’ve yet to unpack. Probably nowhere near what you're used to, and they’ll doubtless need maintenance to be in working order, but it would be something to do besides stare at these blank, depressing walls like a prisoner. I’m surprised you haven’t marked the days on the wall, at this point.” He glanced pointedly at the blank walls then back at Izzy.

“Could, but I don’t feel like keeping track these days.”

Stede drew his hands back from him, realizing he still had no clue what he wanted to have him touch. Ed he knew, practically on instinct, but Izzy... wasn't so vocal about something feeling good. “I really wish I knew what you liked from me. Outside of the prodding at your ego, I’m loathe to do anything you don’t want, but you’re absolutely horrific at communicating your feelings.”

“Haven’t had to. I don’t like feeling what can’t be solved with a knife to the gut, either. I like when you get your hands on me, though, feels nice.”

“Any ache I can help with in particular then, or just touching you?”

“You saw what I ate, what do you think I feel like right now?”

He looked overfull, true, a sight he didn’t mind one bit. “I honestly don’t know, I hazarded a guess at how much you’d eat. Was it too much?”

“Not really. I handled it, like I told you I’m good at pain, this is almost nothing to me, kind of like it, really.”

“You make it hard to let people like you. Ed included, honestly. I think he knows how you work, but I think I’m learning I’m absolutely clueless, even if I worked alongside you for months.”

“Months versus twenty, thirty or so years. I met Ed when he was a kid, give or take. After he left home maybe a year after that all went down. You don’t have to know me like that, I don’t think he wants you to know him like that, it’s fucking miserable. You see him at his absolute worst and you see how he is now, and you remember the crying teenager you told to quit crying one night and you wonder if that was what you should’ve said, if that’s where the center of the rot was between you and him. Don’t worry if you don’t know me that well. I don’t want you to, honestly. He’s seen me all kinds of ways and he’s not disgusted at this point, I count that as a gift, really. I think if you saw me like that you’d give up, call this a wash and say I can’t see your boyfriend again and that opening your relationship to someone you trusted was a mistake.”

“I didn’t know you knew him so long.”

“Since Hornigold. Dunno if I ever told you that specifically, but that’s how long it’s been, if he ever talks about him, he was our first boss, before we decided he could get fucked and we set out on our own.” He looked up at him accusingly. “You’re making me get sappy, you know, talking about the past.”

“I didn’t mean to. I like learning new things about you. I assumed you had a past, considering your taste in things, violence and tea included. You mind if we get back to me figuring out what you like or are you done?”

Izzy sat up a little more and winced. “I think… I think you can head back to your boyfriend.”

“I had fun tonight, just so you know. If you’re feeling off in the morning, I can make you more of the ginger tea with breakfast.”

“Thanks, Stede, I think I’ll take you up on that.”

“You’re very welcome, Izzy.”

Chapter Text

“Remember the other night, after I had dinner with Izzy?” Stede asked, laying in bed with his boyfriend.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I thought we could use some time to feel things out further together, all three of us, and I told him about you eating half a cake by yourself.”

Ed lit up, already aware of what he meant.

“We just so happen to have the ingredients for cake, and I think it may be a good night to see how that goes, and how much Izzy appreciates that.”

“One thing. Can I help you with the cake?” Ed grinned, knowing his boyfriend would never tell him no.

“Yes, you can have the bowl and spoon when the batter is done and in the pan and you can distract me while I’m making it. And you can taste the frosting before I use it.”

Ed kissed him on the cheek. “You're the best.”

“I just know where your heart lies. You’d think it was in your chest, but yours is right here.” He gently patted his belly.

“What kind of cake?”

“Orange, with marmalade and orange flavored icing. Sound nice?”

“Perfect.”

Stede chuckled. “And if I said any other kind, you’d say the exact same thing.”

“Mhm. It’s why I’m a good co-owner. I like agreeing when you have a fun plan like feeding me half a cake.”

“Or more, as you expect to be able to take.”

“With two people helping, maybe I can.”

“And with your appetite…”

“Exactly. Breakfast, then cake making?”