Chapter Text
Many people have said that Stede Bonnet is absolutely crazy, out of his mind, has long lost his marbles and Stede has always agreed politely, almost happily, because out of all the painful accusations thrown at him, this, this was what he could whole-heartedly agree with. Stede knows he is crazy. In fact, his insanity fights against every natural and human survival instinct inside him; smashes and pulverizes until he becomes this ridiculous madman who smiles even with a noose around his neck, pinned to the mast with a sword in his abdomen, or running away from the most beautiful man he’s ever met, who offers all he ever wanted and more, in all the right words and touches.
Stede Bonnet is whimsical, naïve, and yes, ridiculous but of course, of course, he knew he wouldn’t survive as a pirate captain out there on the open seas, full of seasoned murderers and clever criminals. He knew from the very start. If he expected himself to survive longer than a year, he would have sold more of his lands, prepared more, and maybe wouldn’t have packed so many summer linens and instead would have brought at least one sword with him. He didn’t because he was waiting for the inevitable, was even looking forward to it, inviting it with an exquisite banquet table. Of course, that was what he was doing, it was just that he was always too much of a coward to say it out loud.
There was a storm living inside him that dictated his life and it was very, very stern when it came to what he deserved and what he didn’t. For one thing, happiness was something that would crack open the earth in half if Stede ever came close enough to feel its warmth. He couldn’t have it. He hated himself with a manic ferocity that he never could conjure up in the presence of his father or the cruel boys at school. Stede, being himself, tried talking it through with himself, to save himself and more than that, because he wanted to find some peace in the middle of the unceasing turmoil.
Perhaps it’s my father that I feel such strong anger and distaste towards? It’s not exactly a healthy relationship, so, maybe. I’m not saying I should be harboring such disrespectful feelings towards my own father but for the sake of argument, you know?
No, it’s you, just you, you lily-livered good-for-nothing rich boy. Father was right. It was a good thing that Mother died on the very night you were born because death is infinitely better than being forced to love you.
Wow.
You know it’s true.
Maybe. Yes.
I wish you would get up right now, throw yourself in the cold lake which is right fucking in front of you and die.
A little bit too harsh.
Please just die.
Maybe tomorrow.
Because you are a coward.
Yes.
You are scared.
I am sorry.
He has long given up on that particular task. It was impossible to talk it through with himself. It was safer to avoid that conversation if he could help it.
One thing he had never told anyone was that he was never really that miserable in his old life with Mary and children, at least not miserable enough. He really did come to cherish the peaceful life that they created. Although it was not exactly happiness, it was as close to it as possible with the ghosts and voices living inside his head. He was content. He didn’t deserve it. He couldn’t live contently as if everything was okay. As if his children’s beautiful laughter warmed his heart like he was a proper father; as if he had someone who, although didn’t love him but tried to understand him in his life; as if he could go unpunished like that forever and ever until he died of old age on his plush bed.
Run.
The voice whispered and Stede was so glad to have it back that he almost crumbled on the spot and wept.
But they need me and I love them. They are my family.
You know what happens to the things you love.
Stede knew. If they were animals, they would be hit in the head with a hammer, cut into pieces, and if they had soft white feathers, they would be all pulled out violently, tearing away the skin in the process. They would be boiled and served on his plate for dinner. He would cry until he emptied his stomach on the floor and-
If they were people, they would be whipped until their backs bled and their eyes would turn stone-cold whenever they saw him. Why would you bring flowers and leave them in the kitchen? Why would you bring books and read them to us when you know those things are not allowed?
The voice gentled,
They will be fine without you. Probably even better without you. They don’t need you. No one needs you.
Really?
Don’t worry. No one on earth can possibly love you, Stede.
Yes.
So, he ran. He ran as far as his feet would carry him and then some on his ship. He didn’t care much for pillaging plump merchant vessels because he thought he had brought with himself enough to last him till his unfortunate death. The days were easy and fun. He thought he would prefer if his crew did not mutiny against him because it would hurt his feelings after all they had been through together, but there were worse ways to go than getting stabbed in the heart by Jim. He was scared, of course. He knew he would be pathetic, that he would be terrible at dying, he would beg for mercy, sniffle miserably, cry like a baby but perhaps in the back of his head, a voice would whisper, satisfied and giddy,
Finally.
The crew didn’t mutiny and Stede thought it was alright. He was enjoying himself, anyway. A few more days, weeks, or even months wouldn’t hurt anyone.
As expected, soon enough he had a noose around his neck. He was painfully suffocating and there were screams all around. He was dying. He felt his body going into a panic, begging to be let live. He didn’t want to die, didn’t want to, please, let me take one more breath, just one more and then I’ll be brave, I’ll be ready, I’ll let go, I swear, god, it hurts so much-
And then he saw Death embodied. He had eyes like watching a sunset with eyes wrapped in black silk, onyx dipped in orange marmalade, and stared down at Stede with an intense expression on his handsome face.
After that, it was one nightmare after another, which made Stede realize his suffering was hardly over, that he survived.
You failed, yet again.
If he could, he would have sighed,
It’s not like I have a deadline to keep. I’m going to get killed one way or another. There will be more than enough opportunities.
You will pathetically beg and crawl your way out of every one, you liar, you can’t fool yourself, you think you can go on living like this, abandoning and killing people, you monster.
“Hey, hey.”
Stede opened his eyes to find the beautiful eyes of Death. Smoke, salt, wind. He smelled like a war on the sea.
“Are you here to kill me?”
He croaked out.
“What? No, mate. I saved you just now. Killing you would be a total waste.”
Then suddenly Stede was acutely aware of how real the man in front of him was. He was not like the ghosts of Father, Mother, Nigel, or even Mary -who was very much alive, hopefully- but a real man.
“I thought you were something I imagined.”
The words left his mouth before he realized it.
“Everything I wanted.”
He was delirious so maybe the last part was never spoken out loud, he thought, but when Ed asked him later, Stede said all he ever wanted was to become a fearsome pirate captain. Ed smiled mischievously, what, like Blackbeard? And Stede replied, exactly like Blackbeard, and they exchanged their clothes giggling like small children.
The thing about Edward Teach was, that he seemed too brilliant, too indestructible, too close to perfection to be destroyed by someone like Stede Bonnet. It sounded almost unbearably arrogant for Stede to dream such a possibility. Blackbeard was untouchable.
He was also incredibly beautiful and Stede had always been so greedy, shamelessly selfish with beautiful things. He could never stay away, never refrain from touching them with his dirty fingers. But he was braver this time because he imagined that the moment he overstepped, Ed would surely cut off his fingers. Why wouldn’t he? But instead, the unbelievable man said things like,
“A coward? You?”
As if it really was something he found hard to believe,
“Stede, you are the most reckless man I’ve ever met. You were going to fight a whole fleet with your little ship that has more marmalade than cannons.”
And he would mean it. Ed could obviously see how inexperienced, silly and naïve Stede was but when he said these things, Stede also knew that he meant them because Blackbeard would never say or do anything he didn’t want to. It was nothing short of magical. Ed never made fun of him, at least not in a bad way. Stede realized how sensitive Ed could be if he wanted to.
It wouldn’t be entirely true to say it didn’t break his heart when Ed told him about his original plan to kill Stede in the bathroom. Stede thought to himself, ah, so it was a plan all along, of course, no one could really say all the right things all the time because that was what Ed did. He said all the right things to rattle his core. Ed was good at many things but he was great at figuring out which role to perform in every situation. So Stede thought, so this was another fuckery then. Stede was not angry at him, never. Stede was unable to retain anger towards people who wanted him dead anymore. Those people and Stede shared a common goal, after all. Nevertheless, he felt bone-deep sorrow, watching the candlelight flickering over Ed’s countenance.
He wished at least Ed would want him, maybe, to live. Even though no one else in the world could possibly want it. Then Ed’s lips opened and from them, tumbled out,
“I don’t want to kill you.”
The words, sharper than any well-honed sword, pierced Stede Bonnet’s heart. He couldn’t breathe and his knuckles went white where he was grabbing the edge of the bathtub and Ed leaned his forehead on his hand, and he couldn’t breathe.
No, you idiot. He’s only saying it because he doesn’t want to do the job himself.
He was drowning like a fool. Ed’s skin seemed to burn. It burned his hand and the fire seeped into his bones, turning everything into ashes, Stede was so fragile, so vulnerable and he realized that Ed was crying, and Stede realized that he would have died happily if Ed finished what he’d planned.
But maybe not today.
Useless coward.
I think Ed needs me now.
There was nothing to forgive but Stede had to give his forgiveness over and over again while Ed repented, assuring him that nothing needed to change between them.
“You must hate me now, though.”
Stede caught Ed’s hand and pressed a gentle kiss on it. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do but he couldn’t stop himself. It felt right somehow.
“I would never.”
Even if your plan succeeded, I still wouldn’t be able to hate you, Ed.
Stede whispered it and he meant it. Ed seemed to study his face carefully, searching for any trace of guile, and not finding any, he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what he heard.
“Are you, like,”
“Yes, darling?”
“An angel?”
Ed didn’t even laugh as he said it. The unexpected laughter came out of Stede and now Ed was watching him closely as if he was seriously waiting for an answer. Stede felt himself blush and he tightened his grip.
“I’m- I’m far from it, I’m a horrible person, Ed.”
A monster, surely. He looked up and found the eyes which resembled death in every alluring way. He could see a small smile tugging at Ed’s lips.
“What kind of horrible things have you done, Stede? Not wearing the right colors for a dinner party?”
Stede could drown in those eyes. Right now, he could. The fears that closely followed his heels all his life suddenly seemed to grow sluggish. Even if it was only for a brief moment, Stede felt powerful.
“I killed my mother.”
He confessed. Ed froze. The silence stretched almost too long before Ed swore under his breath.
“Fuck.”
He is disgusted. What were you thinking? Now he knows what you are.
And then trembling fingers were touching the side of his face gently, Stede felt a warm and strong hand behind his neck, drawing him closer until-
Their foreheads touched.
“Why,”
Ed’s breath made his cheek tingle, sending a strange feeling all over his body.
“How do you always,”
Stede realized Ed was trying very hard not to shake, but they were shaking, together. They were certainly drowning, if not inside water, then somewhere else, maybe in each other, maybe in guilt or grief or the suffocating violence of life, but then, preferably in each other.
“How do you always make me feel like this?”
Stede held onto him as desperately as Ed sounded in the moment.
“Like I am not entirely alone?”
Stede prayed silently, please, never let this man feel so painfully alone.
“Like I am not irredeemable?”
There, that night, Ed told him the real story of how his father died. The Kraken killed him but I am the Kraken, Stede, Ed confided.
There are unforgivable men but you are not one of them, Stede wanted to tell him. There are men like me, Edward, but you are nothing like me. But he didn’t know how to speak eloquently while his lungs were being filled to the brim so he gasped,
“You are a good man, Ed.”
The ship was lurching dangerously under their legs.
“A good man.”
There’s no one better than you, Stede thought to himself.
One day, he woke up from his nap, startled and perhaps crying out someone’s name. It could have been anyone’s because there were so many names that he wanted to beg forgiveness from. Ed was right next to him for some reason. Stede felt his heart racing. Who was it in his dream? Was it his father? Mary? Mother? Did Ed catch it? Stede didn’t want to remember but he was afraid. Ed’s fingers gently pushed the sweat-soaked hair back.
“I cannot imagine anyone not loving you as a child.”
Stede tried to laugh at that but he couldn’t. Ed didn’t look like he was acting out a role, he looked relaxed, sleepy, and content.
“You are a middle-aged man but still manage to look fucking angelic when you are asleep.”
“Ah.”
Because, what was he supposed to say to that?
“So, you were just watching me sleep?”
“Yeah.”
Ed smirked. The late afternoon sunlight was streaming into the cabin, caressing the white sheets on the bed. A pleasant feeling was bubbling inside him and after a beat, Stede burst out laughing. All the horrible dreams were completely forgotten, all the names erased from his mind at least temporarily.
However, they never entirely went away.
They started to come back. It started when Ed left with his old mate, Jack, or maybe it was before that, when Jack first showed his face and things suddenly changed.
It hurt more than he let on. Stede tried to calm himself. It didn’t work. He knew that he would have a terrible dream if he closed his eyes so he stayed awake through the night.
You should have let him end your misery when you had the chance.
Surprisingly, Stede could scoff lightly at the voice.
No, Ed doesn’t want to kill. I’d never impose such a burden on him.
But then it said, who are you fooling? You thought he wanted you, so as desperate for any scrap of attention as you are, you thought you could go on living on this little funny ship, with him and your crew, happily ever after. You left your family to die, remember? You don’t get to change your mind now.
What Stede was feeling was hard to describe. A little bit of self-hatred, embarrassment, guilt, sadness, and all of them all at once.
Let him go, the voice consoled him because no matter what, it was Stede’s oldest friend and most trusted companion.
He is better off without you ruining him.
Stede tried to nod but he failed, a deep sense of loneliness and sorrow engulfing him.
Chauncey Badminton found them shortly after that.
In his defense, Stede honestly and truly did not want to get his crew hurt or worse, killed. He would have thought to raise the white flag if he was thinking straight but at that time, he could hardly hear anything other than the insistent voice inside his head. It came back three times as vicious as before and Stede felt like he was losing his mind once more.
Here’s another excellent opportunity. You won’t miss this, would you?
His heart was beating too fast. Maybe he could do this. If nothing else, the time he spent with Blackbeard at least made him a little bit braver. Stede Bonnet still wasn’t a brave man by any chance but he was maybe brave enough to accept his timely death.
“Wait! Hoist the white flag!”
Ed’s voice shouted behind him. Stede turned around and God, the courage all but evaporated.
“Better alive than dead.”
When he said it, Stede came so close to believing him. It felt like the truth. He felt scared, again, by the prospect of his own death, but for some reason, he was also happy.
“You came back.”
No, no, no, you can’t be happy. You can’t feel like you want to live.
“Never left.”
God, Stede was being beaten bloody under the weight of happiness and he was helpless against it.
Everything happened so fast after that. Stede was almost executed by the British and this time, he was more afraid than any other time because he was not ready. He was screaming, the voice was screaming and- Ed screamed ‘the Act of Grace’.
“I won’t let them kill you, Stede.”
Ed murmured before they went into the room to sign the paper and Stede thought,
Why? and how?
How do you so easily make me not want to die?
He could have wept right there and then. He had never been so scared in his life.
“You don’t have to do this.”
It was the only thing that came out of his mouth but Ed didn’t even hesitate before picking up the pen.
“I know.”
Like that, Ed forced Stede to live once more. Edward Teach was the sweetest and also the cruelest man he had ever met.
Look how you had to drag him down with you.
The voice mourned and grieved as they were both sent to the Royal Privateering Academy.
Sweet, darling Ed, chained like a dog in this god-forsaken place.
Stede felt the haze creeping in. The only thing he clearly remembers before he ran away is what they said to each other on the beach, the soft look on Edward’s face, the hope that maybe he deserved to go on.
Ed said,
“You make me happy.”
And dear lord, all he wanted to do was to make Ed happy forever and ever. His warm lips, rough hands, sunset and marmalade eyes, the cleverness and wit hiding all that’s soft underneath, stirring everything dead in him alive.
You know you will ruin this.
Stede ignored the voice for once.
“You make me happy, too.”
It was ever the wrong thing to admit.