Mastodawn

"Gone!" Stede winces as the volume of his own voice is enough to send pain ricocheting through the torn muscle fibers of his damaged shoulder.

"Fuck, watch it, you fucking twat," Izzy says, more force of habit behind it than genuine anger. He takes Stede's shoulders, guiding him to lie against the pillows. Stede still looks pale, dark circles under his eyes, souvenirs from the blood loss. He looks up at Izzy. Izzy's eyes are bloodshot, hair unstyled.

He looks like he's been crying. Looks like he hasn't slept. Stede reaches out with his good arm as Izzy fusses with his blankets, muttering something about him catching his death, just you wait and see, and when's the last time Roach checked Stede's temperature anyway and--

The flow of Izzy's words stops when Stede's hand grips his. He looks down at it, breathing too hard, eyes too bright.

"Izzy," Stede says, managing to sound a bit calmer than before

"You said that Edward is gone."

Izzy stares down, refusing to look at Stede. His lashes are thick, hiding his eyes as he picks at Stede's comforter with his free hand. His lashes look a little damp, Stede thinks.

"That's right, sir," Izzy says, voice a little too rough for the formality he clings to. "He left a note. I couldn't... I mean, I should have asked the boy, shouldn't have waited, sir, I--"

"Izzy," Stede says again. Izzy falls silent.

He still hasn't looked up. Stede squeezes his hand. His shoulder throbs, pain pulsing in time with his heartbeat. So. Ed's gone. He left. Stede clears his throat. Right. The note. Izzy mentioned a note. He clears his throat again. His vision swims--he feels the heat of tears bubbling up in his eyes and he blinks rapidly, trying to clear them.

"Where is it?" he asks when he finally thinks he can trust his voice--still, it quavers, traitorous thing.

"Ed's note," he adds, to clarify. Izzy doesn't roll his eyes or snarl that he knew what he bloody meant. He just reaches up and pulls a thin sheet of paper, folded neatly in three, from between his shirt and his vest. Stede lifts it to his lips, trying to steady himself, still feeling lightheaded, from shock or blood loss or very likely both. The paper smells faintly of lavender, cloves and cannabis, beneath the cedar and salt water of Izzy's own scent.

"Well? Don't just fucking sniff it, read it!"

Stede's eyes snap back up--Izzy's looking at him at last, glaring. It's the best thing he's seen since he woke up.

"Give a man a moment, for god's sake," Stede snaps, "I'm feeling... feelings!"

Izzy bares his teeth.

"Feel your fucking feelings later, right now just read the fucking note!"

"Oh, fine," Stede says, heart hammering with a strange blend of relief and trepidation. He unfolds the paper slowly.

Izzy's eyes fix on him, pleading. Stede reads aloud, faltering a little over some of Ed's more extravagant spelling choices.

"Steade--tell Iz I aym sourry. I shoullde haeve sayvved him froum Hournygoulld mysaelf. I shoullde haeve kielled thaet baestard all thoese yeaers agou.

I goe tou reight thaet wroung."

"Fuckin' what?" Izzy snaps. "Read it again without the fuckin' voice this time."

"Oh! Right! Sorry," Stede says, and then begins again.

"Stede--tell Iz I'm sorry. I should have saved him from Hornigold myself. I should have killed that bastard all those years ago. I go to write that wrong."

"Fuck," Izzy says. He sags down on the side of Stede's bed, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. Stede makes a face as he looks at the note. "Did he use his own bloody spellings again? No wonder I couldn't fuckin' read it, it's like putting it in fuckin' code"

Stede looks down at the note

"Sorry, his own what?" he asks, wrinkling his nose.

"Spellings," Izzy says, like it were obvious. "He told me there was, like, the standard way, but anybody interesting made their own up, it was way cooler. I never got the hang of it. Rubbish at reading. All the letters look the same anyway, little blurs on a page."

Stede glances from Izzy to the note and back again. He opens his mouth, shuts it again, finally settles on.

"Right. We'll revisit this."

Izzy speaks before he can say more

"He'll kill him," he says, voice small. "Hornigold'll kill him. He can't do it alone."

Stede's eyes narrow, mouth set in a firm line

"He won't have to," he says. "He's right about one thing. It's past time someone killed that bastard. Izzy, we'll leave you and Jim at the next port. The rest of the crew and I will go to rescue Edward."

"You'll what?" Izzy demands, sounding more skeptical than Stede thinks necessary

From the look on his face, you'd think Stede proposed growing wings and flying to the rescue! Honestly.

"Izzy, I certainly can't ask you to participate in a rescue mission!" he protests, "Or to face Hornigold! Why, it's unthinkable!"

Izzy draws back, pulling his hand away from Stede

"For god's sake, darling, you're still healing!" Stede says, "Besides, I'm the captain!"

"Healing my ass, you've just been fuckin' shot," Izzy retorts, crossing his arms

"And now your plan is to send the only two people who can fight--"

"Well, come now, that's an exaggeration--"

"--on this godforsaken death trap of a vessel--"

"Hey, that's just mean!"

"--on a fucking vacation while you rescue my captain from Benjamin fucking Hornigold?"

"I'd hardly call it a vacation!" Stede interjects as Izzy turns away and starts to pace.

"And all this because I'm some, some delicate fucking flower that needs protecting?"

Izzy splutters, face red with fury.

"Oh, for god's sake, Izzy, you're being completely unreasonable," Stede says, badly miscalculating.

"Unreasonable?" Izzy hisses. Stede abruptly senses his mistake. "Unreasonable! Oh I'll show you unreasonable, you fucking twat, if you try to leave me in port like some miserable fucking housewife while you go gallivanting off to save the fucking day, I'll have Roach declare you unfit for duty. He'd do it, you know."

"What?" Stede says. "That's not-- he can't-- he wouldn't!"

"Yes he would, and then you could convalesce in a fucking inn like a fucking maiden dying of consumption while I fucking rescue Ed, you smug bastard."
Izzy stops his pacing, crossing his arms, glaring at Stede. After a moment Stede sighs, exasperated

"Fine!" he says, shortly, "If you insist."

"I fuckin' insist."

"I know, that's why I said fine!"

They glare at each other, both breathing hard

Izzy's eyes shine, still too bright in the low light of the room. His lower lip trembles just slightly. Stede's face softens.

"Izzy--"

Before he can say anything more, Izzy crosses the floor and kisses him.

*
Izzy doesn't know why he does it. Doesn't know why he picked a fight in the first place, really. It just seems to be what he does with Stede--doesn't know how the hell else he'd talk to the twat. Well. That's not exactly true at the moment. Right now the alternative is a kind of earnestness that still makes Izzy's skin crawl. He's spent a full week sharing every single one of his most intimate thoughts with anyone who stopped long enough to listen

Anger's always been a good shield for Izzy. Keeps him safe. Keeps him alive. Keeps him... keeps him alone. That's safer, too. He can drape his anger over all his truths like a cloak, keeping him just a little apart from them. Hell, if he gets really lucky, the person he's talking to will just walk away, or at least dismiss everything he says out of hand. Just Izzy yelling again. Nothing to worry about.

It doesn't work on Stede. Stede pays attention.

He snipes back, drawing Izzy out, making him angry enough to be incautious and before he knows it, he's spilling his guts to the bastard.

"That's why I said fine!" Stede snaps at last, voice high and sharp.

Izzy glares at Stede, propped against an absurd, truly self-indulgent number of pillows. He swallows hard. This is what he wanted. It is. He doesn't have to say anything more. He doesn't have to say anything about how frightened he is right now.

He doesn't have to say that the idea of coming face to face with Hornigold again makes him feel like he's falling into a fucking pit, stomach swooping in terror. He doesn't have to say how stupid he feels, how fucking childish, that he's feeling fucking... attached to Stede already. He doesn't have to say how selfish he is, that the thought of losing this when Ed comes back makes him feel like he's dying. And that's fucking stupid too, isn't it?

Because he doesn't expect to survive getting Ed back. Not really. Escaping Hornigold once felt like cheating the devil at cards, and somehow winning. Escaping him twice was the ridiculous, fantastic luck Bonnet seemed to attract, like he was born with a silverplated rabbit's foot up his ass. Escaping him three times? Now there's a fucking joke. And Izzy doesn't mind. He really doesn't. He always knew he'd die like this. He got more time than he expected

More time than he could have dreamed thirty years ago, when Ed turned to him in the night, told him he and Jack had a plan. Stupid, ridiculous, absurd. Fucking brilliant. The thought of Jack brings a lump to his throat. And Ed... well, Ed was never really his at all. But he's Ed's. He always knew he'd die like this.

Stede's eyes are a warm, soft brown. He's not glaring anymore. He looks sad

"Izzy..." he says gently. Izzy could say any of it. All of it

He can feel it bubbling just under the surface, trying to push its way out of him, into the open.

He kisses Stede before it can escape.

*
Stede gasps as Izzy kisses him, both hands cupping Stede's face with ruthless tenderness. Stede reaches up with his good arm, cupping the back of Izzy's neck. Izzy whimpers, tension draining out of him at the touch. They have more to discuss. Even if Izzy insists on staying, he certainly can't face Hornigold himself

Stede simply won't have it. There's a tension in his gut he's never felt before. If anyone faces Hornigold, he wants it to be him. Not because he's the captain, not because he can't imagine asking anyone on his crew to face this monster. Because he wants to be the one to do it. He wants to kill Hornigold for Izzy. And for Ed. For every bruise on Izzy's body. For every time he's heard Ed whimper in his sleep. And if that means he doesn't make it back...

So long as he takes Hornigold with him, he can't bring himself to care. The idea of losing Izzy or Ed is unbearable. This new understanding with Izzy, still so new, a tender green shoot in the garden of his heart.

"What?"

Izzy pulls back from the kiss, looking at Stede skeptically.

"What do you mean, what?" Stede says, losing his train of thought.

"You made a face," Izzy says, suspicious. Oh. Right. Stede's train of thought rolls back onto the rail.

The tender shoot, a lovely romantic idea when it occurred to him, proved a bit unpleasant when he imagined an actual plant sprouting from his actual heart. He probably had pulled a face at that.

"Um. It was nothing," he says, unconvincingly, and then. "Oh, for god's sake Izzy, it's-- it's nothing to do with you! Now will you please come here and kiss me again?"

Izzy huffs derisively, but crawls onto the bed, stretching out along Stede's uninjured side

"The fuck kind of pirate says please?" he mutters as he leans in, looking down at Stede's lips. Stede wraps his good arm around Izzy's waist, pulling him in firmly enough that Izzy makes a soft, surprised sound.

"A gentleman pirate," he replies.

"Oh for fuck's--" The rest of what Izzy has to say is muffled by Stede's lips. Stede holds him close, kisses him as tenderly as he knows how.

Whatever happens, at least Edward and Izzy will have each other.

Ed sits alone on the fo'c'sle. He volunteered for the late watch again. All the men know to keep out of his way by now. He dips a bit of hardtack in a mug of grog, gnawing it thoughtfully once it's soft enough to chew. Just a few more days now. Stede will have found the note by now, of course. Or maybe Izzy. Hopefully Izzy would show it to Stede. He doesn't really know where they stand these days. Before Izzy was-- well, before. Ed had started to hope.

The way Izzy bickered with Stede, all those little moments when they got just a touch too close, stared just a bit too long, well. Izzy's never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Nah, he's the type to slap you across the face in hopes that you don't notice he's dropped it, still beating, right at your fuckin' feet. That's how it was with Jack.

Ed wraps his arms around his knees, worrying at the hardtack with his molars. He was jealous of Jack.

Never knew why Izzy chose him in the end. Always wondered. Always felt like one day Jack would come back, and Iz would realize he'd made a mistake and... He shivers, a chilly wind whispering through the balmy night to run down his spine. Fuck. He doesn't want to think about Jack anymore. It makes him feel sick to his stomach.

But Stede and Iz... Before all this, it felt almost possible. Like all it needed was a little push. Like he could have them both

And now...

Well, can't have everything, can you? Not even if you are fuckin' Blackbeard. Not now, anyway. But he hopes they'll find some solace in each other after this

He doesn't have any illusions about this--he knows his odds are bad. Probably should have run the plan by Izzy. He snorts, shaking his head. He doesn't need to live through this, so long as that old bastard doesn't live through it either

He stares at the horizon.

Just a few days now.

*
"I still vote we kill him."

Jim glares at the hostage over their shoulder. It's been half a day since they made their desperate run back to the ship, dragging the tall, thin man who'd led the pursuit between them. Roach leans against the wall. The man glares at him, trying to look intimidating despite the ropes tying him to a sturdy wooden chair. He slumps back down. Roach smirks and lights a joint.

"Nah," he says. "I think he can tell us things."

"What kind of things?" Jim demands, glaring at Roach now. Roach's eyes don't leave the captives.

"Oh, lots of things," he says, smile widening. "Interesting things. I haven't decided yet. But I'm working on it."

His hand goes to the meat cleaver at his belt, thumb moving over the hilt almost lovingly. The hostage blanches, whimpering something behind his gag

"You know, man, you fucking creep me out sometimes," Jim says. Roach puts a hand on his heart

"What? Me?" he asks, feigning shock. His eyes bore into the thin man's, freezing him like a rabbit in front of a snake

"Whatever," Jim mutters, turning away. Roach finally glances at them, frowning a bit. Jim crosses their arms, not meeting his gaze. "I'm gonna go see if the captain's awake yet."

Roach nods like they've answered a question. He puts a hand on their shoulder.

"You're worried about him," he says. Jim bristles.

"What? No! I mean, maybe"

"Okay, fine! Yes! I'm worried about the stupid captain," they snap. "He's an idiot, and I still kind of want to fucking stab him for touching Izzy, but he's our fucking idiot and I don't want him to fucking die, okay? I mean, it'd probably upset Izzy, for one thing."

They meet Roach's gaze challengingly. Roach raises his hands, placating.

"He's going to be fine," he says, keeping his voice low. "Trust me. I'm a doctor. Sort of."

He smiles too widely.

Jim snorts, startled into a laugh. The prisoner watches them, eyes moving back and forth like he's tracking the birdie in a game of tennis. He pales again when Jim turns to lean next to Roach against the wall.

"So," they says conversationally. "You think este bastardo can tell us things, eh?"

Roach grins again

"Oh, most definitely," he says. "Interesting things"

The prisoner groans with relief as someone knocks on the door. Roach sighs, disappointed

"Que pasa?" Jim asks when Olu pokes his head around the corner.

"Came to get Roach," he says, leaning in to claim a quick kiss from Jim. "Captain's awake. Wants to see all of us in his room in an hour."

Roach nods easily, slipping out of the room. Olu takes his place, leaning against the wall next to Jim, watching the hostage.

"Know what he wants to see us about?" Jim asks, looking at Olu sidelong.

Olu shrugs, keeping his voice low as he replies.

"Blackbeard's missing," he says. The hostage strains to hear what's being said, not sure whether or not it affects him.

"Don't quote me on this," Olu continues, turning so that his lips are close to Jim's ear. "But I think we might be in for another rescue mission."

"Ay, dios." Jim rolls their eyes, slumping down the wall to sit, arms draped over their knees. "I'm telling you Olu, estos estúpidos will be the death of me."

Olu shakes his head ruefully

"They'll be the death of somebody, for sure," he says, eyes a little distant. He slides down to sit next to Jim, slipping one hand into theirs. "But I mean, look at Stede. Man should be dead five times over by now. At least. Luck like that and a solid plan? Maybe they can be the death of somebody else this time."

Jim laughs quietly, squeezing Olu's hand, then looks over at him, curious

"Where the hell did ese idiota go, anyway?" they ask. Olu grimaces