Chapter Text
“Izzy!”
Already distracted by the tools Izzy uncharacteristically left laying in the garden and the shed door left swinging open, Ed nearly tripped on the soil caked boots just inside the door. Maybe Izzy just came inside for the bathroom, or a snack, or a drink of water. Plenty of reasonable explanations for this. Maybe Izzy was just taking a phone call, much more likely than him bleeding out or trying to stitch up some gruesome injury.
Ed took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm and think. His phone pinged in his jacket. The text was from Izzy.
“Upstairs. Don’t have to fucking yell”
Ed took the stairs two at a time. Probably gonna pay for that later both Izzy and the twinge in his knee reminded him as he skidded into the bedroom.
“Fucking walk Edward. Gonna fuck your fucking knee fucking sprinting the stairs.”
Izzy was flat on his stomach on the bed. A pile of dirt streaked clothes on the floor beside him. He didn’t even raise his head or turn to look at Ed.
“Izzy? Wha-“
Izzy cut him off, “I’m fine Edward.”
“Iz, the fuck, mate? You never leave tools out. Or the shed open. Or your boots out. Or lay on the bed without showering. Fuck. I’ve never even seen you in bed during the day unless we’re fucking.”
“Said I’m fine. Now fuck off.”
Izzy hauled himself off the bed, still facing away from Ed and started pulling his dusty clothes back on. He tried to step past Ed without making eye contact, muttering “Gotta finish up in the garden.”
Ed could have just stepped aside. Or could have just asked Izzy to wait. Or could have maybe blocked his path or touched his shoulder or something reasonable but instead an overload of emotions crashed over him. Suddenly Edward was clutching Izzy to his chest, jabbering apologies and “don’t leave it like this” and “please talk to me baby” and “I just need to know you’re not hurt” and “I can’t go back to how we were before Stede!”
Those were the words that did it. Izzy wrapped his arms around Ed, murmuring, “No, Eddie. Never again.”
They held each other for a long time.
—
Dusk was falling and Stede was due home when Izzy finally finished his work in the garden, putting everything away and sluicing soil and sweat and some blood off in a hot shower. Izzy made it as far as the bed before slumping down, clean this time, but still as defeated as before Ed’s interruption.
“Happy Anniversary my darlings!”
Stede’s exuberant singsong echoed faintly up to where Izzy still lay flat on his stomach, head under a pillow. Grunting softly, he decided to get under the covers and curl up in a ball instead. Maybe if they forgot about him or thought he was sick they wouldn’t mind that he had no anniversary present for them. It was all his fault. He hadn’t protected it and now it was gone, maybe even dead. Izzy had to squeeze his eyes to stop the tears.
Footsteps. A soft thud of knees landing next to the bed. A soft hand cupping his cheek. Lips on his temple.
Izzy flinched away, a howl of misery escaping before he could stop it. He didn’t deserve this softness from Stede. Didn’t deserve his love. Israel Hands, showing up emptyhanded on his own anniversary, due entirely to his own errors. Yet another reminder that love was not for him.
Stede just clambered onto the bed and pulled Izzy into his lap, shushing him like a child having a nightmare. Maybe this was a nightmare. Maybe Izzy could just wake up and it would be okay. Unfortunately Stede intercepted his hand before he managed to pinch himself. There was no waking up. It was ruined. Izzy fucked up their anniversary gift and now he was fucking up their evening too.
No. Izzy had ruined enough. He was not going to ruin their evening too. He pulled himself away abruptly and started to dress, aware that Stede’s confused eyes were watching every move. No, pretending he was fine would still ruin the evening. Ironically it was not therapy but observing Ed and/or Stede pretend things were okay which had really driven that lesson home. Well, nothing for it but to explain. Izzy took a breath and turned to face Stede, offered him a hand up and tugged the larger man in by his belt loops.
“Do you remember the first time you gave me flowers?”
Stede straightened Izzy’s collar and brushed the hair off his forehead, “Yellow roses with red edges, signifying friendship blossoming into romantic love. Wasn’t it a rainy weekend in April? I remember raindrops getting caught in your eyelashes on our walk home that afternoon. You were so beautiful, surrounded by soft mist.”
Izzy hummed for Stede to keep talking, or maybe in embarrassment, and tucked his face into Stede’s warm neck.
“I wanted to give you a dozen but was afraid you’d think it too much of a waste. And I worried the long stem roses would be a burden since I knew you didn’t own any vases. I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable carrying them on our date so I gave them to you at your place before we went.”
Izzy turned his head and continued the story, clinging to one of Stede’s shirt buttons like a lifeline. “You gave me three roses and I kept them in a glass of water by the window. After a couple weeks, two of them had put out tiny new leaves under the water.”
Izzy paused at Ed’s footsteps near the door and invited him closer with a look and nod. “I waited and gave them fresh water until eventually all three had new leaves. I put them in dirt and left them near a sunny window, hoping they’d root.”
Stede was stroking his hair now.
“Only one survived. I talked to it and tried to give it what it needed but I’ve never grown roses before and I didn’t know what I was doing. I put it in a bigger pot and it stayed alive through the winter. This spring it made one flower, just pale yellow with barely pink edges. I thought it needed more light and room so I put it outside to harden off and then in June I planted it outside.”
Ed pulled back to look at him, “You moved in with us in June.”
“Izzy darling, are you saying you planted this rosebush here in our garden when you moved in with us?”
He nodded, sniffling pathetically.
“Shut up Edward,” Izzy forestalled Ed’s forthcoming eruption of excitement. “It put out another flower, yellow and red this time, and I started feeling like it was going to survive. Couple weeks ago two new buds appeared. Been checking on them every day and was gonna give you each a flower tonight.” Izzy’s voice trailed off in a choked whisper.
“And did something happen Izzy, darling?”
Izzy pulled himself away abruptly and marched out of the bedroom, heading for the garden, not even checking if his partners were following. He grabbed the big flashlight and toed into Ed’s godawful lavender crocs, heading outside.
The three men gazed quietly at Izzy’s protective enclosure, crudely woven from wire dry cleaning hangers, protecting what was left of his carefully cherished rosebush (thank goodness Stede kept the local dry cleaners in business?). Three stems remained, barely a leaf and nary a flower to be seen. Ed recognized tent pegs from their camping gear staking the little cage down. Izzy pulled out the pegs and lifted the cage off. When he touched the stems they flopped sadly, nearly snapped below the soil, barely holding onto each other.
“Deer ate it, fucking broke all the stems. Dunno if it’s gonna survive.” Izzy fought to keep his voice steady. “Didn’t know they’d do that.” He cleared his throat and hardened himself, “‘S just a fucking flower.”
“And the most meaningful symbolic romantic history-laden love-token the world has ever beheld!” Stede snatched the wire cage from Izzy and placed it back over the rose, cooing encouraging nonsense at the plant, sprinkled with invective against the deer, while he pegged the cage securely down.
Izzy was grateful to feel Ed’s warmth press against his back. His arms hung limply now that Stede didn’t need the flashlight except but to admire the security of the stakes and stand with arms akimbo, harrumphing indignantly. Ed wound strong arms around him, speaking softly over his shoulder, “Let’s go inside, baby.”
Izzy nodded, tugging Stede to follow as Ed led them back inside.