Chapter Text
Izzy is almost relieved when Ed and Stede announce they’ll be taking shore leave in the Republic of Pirates for a few days. Between the captains’ earnest attempts at getting to know him, and the crew’s interest in forcing him to spend time with them, he’s getting a little claustrophobic. It’s nice, in a way; he feels included, for the first time.
But it’s also exhausting. He constantly feels awkward and wrong-footed, never quite sure if he’s reacting appropriately to the situation he’s in. Everyone around him seems to always know what to say, and, more often than not, Izzy is left floundering.
So, all things considered, he’s quite looking forward to some alone time. They’ll be docking for three days, and in that time, Izzy doesn’t want to talk to anybody.
The first day goes smoothly enough — he spends the morning with Ed and Stede, doing a final check of their supplies, organising their budget, helping to make a list of what they need. It’s easy, familiar work that keeps his mind occupied. For the first time in months, Izzy finds himself relaxing.
Of course, the peace never lasts long. It’s early evening, and most of the crew has disappeared to go drinking. They’d invited him, but Izzy had declined. In a rare moment of honesty, he’d admitted that all he wanted was some alone time and a nap.
He’d expected resistance, or some kind of cajoling from the crew to change his mind. But Lucius had nodded sympathetically and said, ‘It’s hard, being an old man,’ and then left, cackling loudly, with the rest of them.
There’s a knock on his door. Besides Izzy, there are only two people left on the ship.
‘Yes, captain?’ Izzy calls.
The door opens to reveal Ed. He’s dressed casually, in soft pants and a linen shirt. He looks comfortable. ‘How’s shore leave treating you?’
‘Fucking excellent,’ Izzy says. ‘Haven’t moved from here since lunch.’
‘Cool,’ Ed says. ‘Anyway, you’re sleeping in our cabin tonight.’
‘I’m comfortable here,’ Izzy says, petulant.
‘But you could be more comfortable,’ Ed counters. ‘Don’t act like our mattress isn’t the fucking best.’
Izzy pretends to consider it, already knowing he’s lost. He’d been looking forward to time alone, but, ultimately, he’s weak when it comes to doing whatever Ed wants. Besides, this is the first time Ed has specifically requested his presence, rather than Stede.
‘Yeah, all right,’ Izzy says. Ed grins like he’d known how Izzy was going to answer all along.
‘We’re back,’ Ed announces. He winks at Izzy. ‘Told him if he didn’t come stay with us tonight, he’d lose another toe.’
Izzy stifles a grin at Stede’s outraged look. ‘Ed, you were supposed to ask him! Not threaten him!’
‘This was more efficient,’ Ed shrugs, leading Izzy to the dining table. Three places are already set, like they’d been expecting him to say yes.
A few months ago, the presumption would have made him furious. Now, he just feels an exasperated fondness for the two of them. Stede, for preparing Izzy to decline the invitation even as he set about laying down the cutlery and making cups of tea, and Ed, for — well, for everything.
‘Thank you for joining us, Izzy,’ Stede says, giving Ed a pointed look. ‘I hope you didn’t feel obligated.’
‘A meal and a comfortable bed. You’re twisting my arm, captain,’ Izzy deadpans.
Stede goes slightly pink. ‘You and Ed fancy yourselves as real comedians, don’t you?’
‘Best clowns in the Caribbean,’ Izzy agrees. Ed gives an outraged sort of squawk, and Stede laughs.
It strikes Izzy, suddenly, how unbearably domestic it all is. He’s sitting down for dinner, a cup of tea already waiting for him, joking and teasing with the two of them about sharing a bed. As if he belongs here, with them.
Izzy shuts the thought down quickly. He knows better than to let himself focus on things like that.
‘I hope you don’t mind that we’re just having sandwiches,’ Stede says. ‘I didn’t want to ask Roach for anything too difficult.’
Izzy, in his time, has eaten all manner of vermin, weevils, and even leather off an old pair of boots in order to stay alive. ‘Sandwiches are fine.’
Ed gives him a conspiratorial look, as if he knows exactly what Izzy’s thinking. ‘It’s not good enough, mate. Izzy and I were expecting a five course meal.’
‘Served on solid gold plates,’ Izzy adds.
Stede groans. ‘You two are impossible. Be quiet and eat your food.’
Ed cackles as Izzy pointedly takes a bite of his sandwich.
‘Ed and I are heading out to do some shopping tomorrow,’ Stede says. ‘Would you like to join us?’
‘We restocked everything this morning,’ Izzy says with a frown, ‘did I forget something?’
‘No, he means shopping for fun,’ Ed says. ‘Looking at fabrics and soaps and shit.’
Going shopping with them sounds like a nightmare. Between Stede’s unconscious elitism, Ed’s short attention span and Izzy’s even shorter temper, it’s a recipe for disaster. Besides that, shopping together for frivolities sounds like a couple’s activity. He can’t imagine enjoying himself while tagging along as a third wheel on their shopping spree. He can’t imagine them enjoying his company for that long, either.
‘You don’t have to come,’ Ed says. ‘It’s just a stupid thing. Thought we could hang out a bit. It’s whatever.’
Ed is staring hard down at his sandwich, doing his best to avoid eye contact with Izzy. He’s reminded of their last proper conversation — when Ed promised to do better. He thinks of Ed, forcing him to stay the night, joking with him across the dinner table. He watches Ed pick nervously at his sandwich while he pretends not to care about Izzy’s answer.
Izzy has never been able to deny Ed anything. ‘Sure, I’ll come.’
Ed gives him a small, pleased smile. Stede immediately begins chattering about the places he’d like to go, the things he’d like to find. Izzy sits back and listens, and tries not to think about how comfortable he feels.
Later on in the evening, when they’ve all changed and gotten into bed, Stede turns his head and says, ‘Izzy, can I ask a question?’
‘What?’ Izzy stifles a yawn. He’s sandwiched between the two of them, laying on his back. Ed and Stede are close enough that they’re almost resting on his shoulders. It had been the easiest way for the three of them to keep up a conversation without one of them sitting up, but the talk had died down a little while ago. Izzy had been drifting off to sleep — but, as he’s learning, Stede has a knack for knowing the exact worst time to speak. ‘If it’s more riddles, I’m going back to my room.’
Ed chuckles. ‘No, c’mon, I wanna know what type of bread you are, Iz.’
‘Fuck off,’
‘You told us what kind of bread we are, mate, it’s only fair—’
Stede says, ‘If it’s not too personal, I was wondering if I could ask what happened to your toe?’
Beside him, Ed goes very quiet.
‘Earlier tonight, Ed said you’d lose another toe,’ Stede continues, oblivious. ‘I’ve never noticed that you had one missing — I suppose I’m just curious about it. How does one lose a toe at sea?’
Izzy realises, suddenly, that Stede doesn’t know. Izzy has never really stopped to think about the specifics of their reunion. At first, he’d been too busy trying to manage Ed; trying to keep him in the Blackbeard persona, and then sulking in his room upon Stede’s return. He’d just assumed that Stede knew everything that had happened in his absence.
A few months ago, Izzy would have jumped at the chance to tell Stede the truth — to tell him, in excruciating detail, about the clawing panic in his chest, the sickening crunch of meat and bone, the way he’d gagged as Ed loomed over him, furious and terrifying. Anything to ruin Stede’s image of Ed as his little high society pet project. Anything to make Stede understand that he did not belong in Ed’s world.
But that was before. Things have changed since then. The horrible, aching desperation he’s been carrying for years is starting to subside. He’s starting to understand Ed, now.
Beside him, Ed is starting to tremble. Izzy makes a choice.
‘Happened ages ago,’ Izzy says, nonchalant. ‘Got knocked around during a storm, fucked up my foot. I only lost the little toe, anyway. It’s not a big deal.’
Ed makes a wounded noise.
‘Ed, love? Everything okay?’
‘He’s fine,’ Izzy lies. ‘He was there when I lost it, and he’s a bit squeamish about it.’
‘Oh, my, it sounds quite serious, then,’ Stede says. ‘Are you all right now, Izzy?’
Is he all right? Sometimes, he wakes up in the middle of the night, heart beating rabbit-quick because he’s convinced he can still feel Ed’s presence in his room, Ed’s hand pressing down hard over his mouth. He can barely stomach meat, now: he eats his ration dutifully, but the slightest bit of gristle has him fighting back waves of nausea. He’d only just avoided infection, and even now, the skin is still tender and prone to inflammation. Most days, it’s sore — not enough to affect his balance, but just enough to make sure that he can’t forget it, even for a moment.
Some days, looking at Ed is enough to make Izzy sick. But he pushes through, and perseveres. He’s been through worse, he tells himself. They’ve suffered worse, together. Ed has been a constant in his life; his own personal north star, and Izzy has loved him far too much for far too long to let something like this get in the way.
Besides — Izzy knows now that he’d deserved it. What right does he have to condemn Edward?
‘Unfortunately, I’m still half left,’ Izzy replies solemnly.
Stede laughs and swats at his arm. ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into the two of you tonight. Shore leave has addled your brains.’
‘That’s not—’ Ed says quietly. Izzy resists the urge to hit him.
‘What’s that, Ed?’
‘Nothing,’ Izzy says, firmly. ‘He was just saying that my joke was hilarious.’
‘It really wasn’t—’
Ed doesn’t speak up again.
‘What do you think of this one, Ed?’ Stede holds up a bolt of obscenely expensive, deep purple fabric. It’s the kind of thing Ed loves, and precisely the kind of thing to make Izzy start ranting about their budget.
‘Yeah, ’s cool.’ Ed says vaguely.
Stede frowns. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve been very quiet this morning.
‘Fine,’ Ed says. ‘Didn’t sleep a lot.’
Neither had Izzy. He’d stayed awake most of the night, hyperaware of Ed, still and silent beside him. He’d been pressed comfortably up against Izzy's side, right up until Stede started asking about the toe. After that he’d shifted away from him, putting a few centimetres of space between them. It may as well have been a chasm. Izzy had longed to reach out, to touch Ed, to say something to fix it. But, as always, he’d failed Ed when it really mattered; unable to think of anything to say, he stayed silent and pretended to be asleep when Ed got up at first light.
‘We don’t have to keep going, if you’re tired. We can go back to the ship.’
‘Nah. It’s fine.’
Stede is starting to look upset. Izzy wonders when he started to care about things like that.
‘Why don’t you finish up in here?’ Izzy says. ‘We’ll wait for you outside.’
He drags Ed away before Stede has a chance to respond. Ed follows him silently, but Izzy can feel him tensing where Izzy has grabbed his arm. He finds a quiet spot, a small alley between two buildings, and steers them toward it.
‘Get your shit together,’ Izzy hisses. Ed’s eyes are downcast, guilty, and for some reason it makes him furious. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’
That gets Ed to look up at him, bewildered and a little angry. ‘I fed you your fucking toe, Iz, and you—’
‘Yes, I was there,’ Izzy snaps. ‘We’ve dealt with that, all right? It happened. It’s done. I made sure your precious boyfriend isn’t going to get his feelings hurt over it, so get it together and stop making him suspicious, for fuck’s sake.’
Ed’s eyes darken at that and, for a moment, there’s a glimpse of that old fury that’s always been so dangerously alluring. He looks like he’s about to start yelling at Izzy, or maybe even hit him. Good, Izzy thinks. He might not know how to talk things through, but he knows how to make Ed angry — and if Ed’s angry, then he’s not spiralling, and sometimes that’s good enough.
‘Found you!’ Stede’s cheery voice startles both of them. ‘Thought I’d lost you both for a second, there.’
‘Nah,’ Ed says, taking Stede’s arm. He gives Izzy a warning look, the one that usually means Izzy’s going to fucking regret it later. ‘Iz just hates crowds. What’d you end up getting?’
Ed’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but he listens attentively as Stede describes the fabrics he’d bought, holding out little samples for Ed to feel. Izzy trails behind them, watching them carefully. Neither of them look back at him or try to involve him in the conversation, and Izzy decides that’s fine. He doesn’t want to hear about their stupid fabrics anyway.
‘What about these?’ Stede asks, holding out a lemon-scented soap bar. How the fuck Stede found a luxury soap merchant in the Republic of Pirates, Izzy will never know. Even Ed looks slightly bewildered.
‘Just pick whatever you want,’ Izzy says.
‘I want to know what you like,’ Stede says, almost petulant.
‘I like the lavender ones.’
‘No he doesn’t. He hates them.’ Ed chimes in. He’s perked up a little, and is doing his best to torment Izzy — making them stop at merchants he knows Izzy will find pointless, redirecting Stede’s stupider questions just to watch him seethe. Izzy’s just glad Ed is pretending to have a good time, for Stede’s sake.
‘Well, it’s no use buying extra if you hate them,’ Stede says. ‘They’re supposed to be a gift.’
Izzy rolls his eyes. ‘I don’t need a gift.’
‘Of course no one needs them,’ Stede replies, ‘but they’re nice to have.’
Izzy shrugs. He wouldn’t know.
‘Let’s keep looking,’ Ed says. ‘I’m sure we’ll find something for Izzy.’
‘Fuck off, Ed,’ Izzy mutters. The grin Ed sends him looks almost genuine.
Izzy is just about to ditch Ed and Stede, frustrated and worn out by their never-ending shopping trip, when he sees them.
There’s an older woman sitting alone at a shabby stall, a cage full of kittens on the ground beside her. They’re tiny, from where he’s standing — small, pathetic bundles of fur, likely small enough to fit in his hand.
He steps closer without meaning to. He’d always liked cats, when he was younger; liked their soft fur and big eyes and their funny tails. Whenever he could, he’d sit and watch the street cats prowl, silent and graceful, hunting rats and pigeons alike, wishing desperately he could have one as a pet.
It’s been a long time since then. Izzy isn’t the kind of person who wants things, anymore. He should keep walking, put them from his mind. But Ed and Stede are distracted by a merchant selling stolen jewellery, and Izzy thinks he’ll be sick if he has to continue listening to Ed prattle on about how that particular ring matches Stede’s eyes, or whatever sappy bullshit he’d been saying when Izzy had slipped away.
He heads towards the cats.
‘Looking to buy one?’ The woman asks him. ‘They’re good for hunting, you’ll never have another vermin problem on your ship again.’
Izzy doesn’t respond. There’s no point pretending he’s going to buy one — he’ll just watch them for a few moments, and then leave and do his best to forget about them.
There’s six of them in total, stumbling around on tiny legs, falling over each other while trying to pounce. It’s unbearably cute, and it almost makes Izzy want to smile.
‘What’re you looking at, Iz?’
Izzy startles so badly that Ed, leaning on his shoulder, nearly drops the package full of soaps he’s holding. ‘Nothing. I was just coming to find you. Finished with the jewellery, then?’
‘Kittens!’ Ed says, ignoring him. He leans forward to inspect them in the cage, watching them play for a few moments. Izzy feels strangely defensive, embarrassed at being caught looking at them, when he knows how Ed feels about animals. ‘They’re cute.’
‘I guess,’ Izzy says.
‘Look,’ Ed points. ‘It’s you.’
There’s a seventh cat Izzy hadn’t noticed before, somehow smaller than the rest, a tiny clump of jet black fur with wide blue eyes. It walks with a pronounced limp — at the end of one of its front legs is a stump where the paw should be.
‘I wouldn’t recommend that one,’ the old woman chimes in. ‘Won’t be good for much on a ship, or anywhere, really. If it’s not bought by the end of the week I’ll likely put it down.’
Ed frowns, and looks like he wants to say something. Izzy is not about to let him get into a fight with an old woman over a fucking kitten.
‘Doesn’t matter, anyway,’ Izzy says. He spares a final glance for the tiny black kitten, stumbling around on its three wobbly legs, and hopes fervently that someone buys it. He starts tugging Ed away, back to where Stede is waiting for them. ‘No pets on board. Right, Ed?’
‘Right,’ Ed says unconvincingly. He’s looking back at the kitten, too.