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Indifference was worse than hatred. Izzy Hands knew that. He'd always known that.
He grew up looking into his mother's blank eyes, uncaring if he skinned a knee or came home with a black eye, only interested in her next hit of opium.
The Royal Navy wasn't much better — he was just a soldier, a dime a dozen. At least on Hornigold's ship, they learned his name before stealing his rations.
And he found Ed.
Izzy thumped his head back against the wall at the thought of Ed. Ed, the person who knew him the best, who got matching tattoos with him when they got drunk on shore leave once.
The past few months had been some of the worst months of Izzy's admittedly-not-spectacular life. Not because Ed was erratic and bordering on suicidal every other day, but because he didn't care. He didn't care about himself, about the crew, or about Izzy.
Izzy could see it when he went into Ed's quarters to give reports or receive orders. Izzy wasn't a person in Ed's eyes anymore. He was a tool. He was replaceable. Can't do the job, someone else will.
The only time Izzy saw Ed return to him, in the middle of it all, was when he'd take his toes. "You know why I have to do this, Iz. It's the only way to get through to you these days, isn't it?"
Ed started to look at him again — really look at him — when he hated him again, when he shot him, when he gave Izzy the gun, out on the deck, half-wild with mania, threatening to blow them to kingdom come.
And when the crew...
Izzy slammed the back of his head harder.
He'd killed his captain.
Tears were tracking down his face before he noticed. He roughly wiped a hand across his face, disgusted with himself as he saw the snot on his glove. Jesus, is this what he had become? A simpering, pathetic invalid, crying over every stupid little thing. Pathetic — fucking pathetic.
So, this is how it ends, then? The great Blackbeard dead, his loyal first mate nothing more than a sniveling cripple, and with absolutely fuck all to show for it.
The news of the mutiny was probably all over by now. It had been a few days since Bonnet and the crew stole back The Revenge. Izzy had stayed in the small room since. The crew must've known where he was because someone kept leaving him food. And Izzy was grateful for that, he was.
He just wanted to be left alone.
One of the others was probably handling his duties. All the better, really. Bonnet had made it clear that Izzy wasn't welcome on the ship.
A knock at the door.
Izzy stiffened. He had been waiting for the day when Bonnet finally decided to wash his hands of him and maroon him on some island. And now it was here.
Another knock. Time to face the music. Izzy took a deep breath and pulled himself up off the floor. "I'm coming," he rasped.
"Izzy? It's us."
He opened the door to see Jim and Frenchie staring at him, wary looks on their faces. Archie, Fang, and the rest of Bonnet's crew were behind them. Jim's eyes widened as they took him in.
Izzy's hackles immediately went up. "What's this?"
"We have something for you."
"What?"
"It's a surprise," Frenchie said with a smile. "Come on." Izzy stood frozen until the younger man grabbed his hand, which startled him into movement. Fang came up from behind and steadied him, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Izzy found his old shipmate's presence comforting. He knew that Fang wouldn't let anything bad happen to him.
Izzy clutched at his mop as he was led through the ship and into the rec center. It was a mess — Blackbeard mainly used it for storage. Loot, broken furniture, anything Ed didn't want to deal with but didn't want to throw away.
Archie kicked the ripped badminton net out of the way as the group ushered Izzy to the corner. The crew, besides Fang, who stayed behind him, all scurried in front of him, looking like idiots with tentative smiles.
"What's going on? Did one of you break the fucking pulley system again?" He didn't see Frenchie nod to Fang before it all went black.
Izzy immediately went for his sword, panicking when he felt his empty scabbard. His ears were ringing so loudly he almost didn't hear Fang say, "Whoa, whoa! Iz, it's me! It's me!"
As quick as the darkness came, it left. Izzy blinked and saw that the crew had surrounded him once again. He made eye contact with Lucius and saw the pity in his face. "What the fuck?" he growled.
Fang's arms wrapped around his middle, and he was too tired to fight him off. "I'm sorry, Iz. I'm sorry, I should've asked before...we're just trying to surprise you, is all." Fang squeezed him lightly, and it reminded him too much of after the wedding — his moment of weakness. The back of his throat burned.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Izzy spat. He'd had about enough of this. He was going to fucking hobble back to his shit bunk and wait for Bonnet to give him the boot.
"Just — dios, just sit down, all right?" Jim took his arm and sat him down on a stool. The crew followed behind Jim like a group of ducklings following their mother. He'd find it funny if he weren't so annoyed by the whole thing.
Izzy crossed his arms. "What are you gonna do to me, then? Torture? Lashing? Blackbeard's already taken most of my toes, and it's not like you have a lot of options, with the leg and all —"
"We're not gonna hurt you, dude," Pete said.
"Jesus, man," Archie muttered. "Hasn't anyone done anything nice for you before?"
"Close your eyes," Jim said. Izzy glared at them. "Please."
Izzy shut them and could hear rustling as the crew moved around. (Was that a giggle from Fang?) Even with assurances that they wouldn't hurt him, Izzy's heart pounded wildly. He didn't like to be unaware of his circumstances. He liked to know what the fuck was happening on his ship and what the exit strategies were at all times. But then again, it wasn't his ship anymore, was it?
He was so tired.
Before he did anything humiliating, like cry in front of the crew — again — Jim said, "Okay, you can open your eyes."
In front of him stood the crew, all with hopeful smiles plastered on their face. In the middle was Fang, holding a box with a ribbon tied in a bow on top — a present. "Here," Fang said as he handed it to Izzy.
Izzy took it, not sure what to do with it.
"Well, go on," Roach said. "Open it."
"Yeah, Izzy. It's not going to bite you," Spriggs drawled as he took a drag from his cigarette. "You do know what a present is, right?"
Izzy swallowed, the ring on his necktie burning through his clothes and branding his skin.
"I like it a lot," Ed sighed. "Too bad it doesn't fit my fat fingers."
Izzy scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. You don't have fat fingers."
Ed hummed and studied the ring. Without warning, he took Izzy's hand and slid the ring on his fourth finger. Izzy's breath hitched. Maybe he wasn't crazy; maybe Ed did feel the same way —
"Nah, looks weird," Ed shook his head and took the ring back.
Izzy looked away. "Piss off." He moved to leave, but Ed quickly caught his necktie and pulled him down so they were nose to nose.
Without looking down, Ed slid the ring onto the fabric. He quirked his eyebrow at Izzy before sitting back.
"There," he murmured, smug as shit, as he straightened out Izzy's shirt. "Much better." He winked at Izzy before he stood from his chair and walked away.
Izzy let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
"I know what a fuckin' present is," he bit out, pulling the ribbon loose and opening the box.
A piece of wood sat on top of dark blue fabric. The light wood was polished, smooth. Someone had carved a horse's hoof at the bottom of it.
"It's a leg." Izzy looked up to see Fang's puppy dog eyes on full display, smiling at him. He could only nod in return.
"I carved it!" Pete piped up. "I've been practicing!"
"It's much better than Lucius' finger," Oluwande said.
"I like my finger."
"Yeah, you do, babe."
"Ew, guys. Not now."
Izzy didn't know what to think. His head was full of so many questions, and he just blurted out, "Why is it a hoof?"
"'Cause horses are your favorite," Fang said, which, what? His confusion must've shown on his face, and Fang continued. "Remember that time, a couple years back, when we were on that island and saw the horses on the beach? You couldn't take your eyes off 'em."
"Aye," Button said. "Horses be magnificent creatures. Livvy says they're the whales of the land, she does."
"And when we raided that Spanish ship a few months ago, you got really upset when Blackbeard gave the order to kill those three horses they had in the hold," Archie said. "You didn't speak for days." That had cost him a toe.
"He made you kill horses?" Pete asked.
"Didn't even let us keep the meat."
Roach gasped.
Izzy ignored them and ran a finger across the hoof. He'd liked horses ever since he was a boy. Sometimes, after his chores were done, he'd run over to help the blacksmith. He was supposed to start an official apprenticeship with Master Taylor, but then everything went to shit.
"Thank you," he murmured. He looked up. "How do, um. How do I put it on?"
"Oh, that's the other part." Frenchie rubbed his hands excitedly and lifted the leg to reveal a leather garment. "You pull this side up your thigh, like a weird pair of undies, and then slide the fake leg through this hole here," he wiggled a finger, "and then wrap these two strings to secure it, and voilà. Wee John made it out of my leather jacket."
"And the fabric's padding, so the wood doesn't rub against your skin," Wee John said. "Made that out of the uniform Zheng gave us. Lovely material, soft as anything."
It was silent for a long moment before Jim said, "Well, what do you think?"
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why'd you do this for me?" Izzy asked. "You don't even like me. You all think I'm a dick."
"Well, yeah," Jim shrugged. "But you're our dick, so." Izzy didn't know what to say; he just let his thumb rub against the fabric. John was right — it was very soft. Jim looked at the crew, sighed, and sat next to him.
"Look, Izzy," they said like the following words were physically paining them to get out. "We know what you did."
"What d'you mean?"
Jim cleared their throat. "We know you...protected us." Oh, God. "When Blackbeard would get into one of his...moods. We know you took the brunt of it." Izzy opened his mouth —
"Don't even try to deny it, mate," Archie said. "The walls aren't that thick." Jim, Fang, and Frenchie glared at her. "What?"
Izzy took a halting breath, feeling the depths of humiliation. So, everyone knew, then. Everyone knew how weak he was, how he couldn't even — couldn't even —
"So, is that what this is, then?" he choked out. "A consolation prize?"
"No," Frenchie said. "We made it for you because…" he trailed off, lost for words.
"Because we're your friends, you prick," Lucius said. "And friends do nice things for each other."
Izzy stared at them all, gobsmacked. He had never had much luck with friends. He'd only had the one, really, and look how that turned out.
"What about Bonnet?"
"What about him?"
"He's going to kick me off the ship soon."
"He's not going to kick you off the ship," Jim rolled their eyes. "Even if he wanted to, he's too busy with Blackbeard."
Izzy's blood ran cold. "What?"
"The captain's nursing him back to health and all that," Oluwande said casually as if he hadn't just upended Izzy's life. "They're holed up in their quarters."
"Ed's alive?" he whispered.
"Yeah. Turns out Jim's great with a knife, not so great with a cannonball."
"We were in the middle of a storm —"
The ringing in his ears returned, drowning out everything else. Ed's alive. I didn't kill him. Ed's alive. I didn't kill him. Ed's alive. I didn't kill him. Ed's alive. I didn't kill him. Ed's alive —
He's going to kill me.
Izzy reached for a nearby bucket and puked.
Once his stomach was empty, he put the bucket down. Someone handed him a cup of water.
"You feel better, Iz?" Fang asked.
"He's gonna kill me," Izzy said bluntly.
"I don't think —"
"That's what's done. I was the first mate who mutinied. He will kill me because I — I —" Izzy put the back of his hand to his mouth. He tried to stop the tears, but they rolled down his cheeks. Jim patted his shoulder awkwardly, and Frenchie took his other hand in his.
And, for the first time in a long time, Izzy Hands let himself cry.
Wee John handed him an embroidered handkerchief when he was finished. Oluwande cleared his throat. "I don't think Ed'll kill you, mate."
"Yeah, he's doing this twelve-step recovery thing," Archie said. "He's apologized to all of us. It was super awkward, but I think he's trying."
"Stede was looking for you," Jim told him, and Izzy's head shot up to look at them. "He wants for the three of you — you, him, and Ed — to…to talk it through."
"He hasn't called for me."
"We haven't let him," they admitted. "We wanted to make sure that you were ready first. That you were...okay."
That hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn't remember the last time anyone put his needs first. He couldn't remember the last time he did it for himself, either.
"Thanks."
"No problem," Jim said, awkward.
Izzy felt his lips twitch as he looked around the room at the crew. His...his friends.
"This is the nicest thing anyone's done for me."
"Ugh, it's weird when you get gushy," Lucius said, a teasing glint in his eye. Izzy flipped him the bird.
"Do you want to try it out?" Frenchie asked. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.
The crew helped him strap up, with Wee John explaining the mechanics of it all. Once it was set, Izzy stood up, with Fang, Pete, and Olu bracing him for support.
And for the first time in a long time, as he wobbled around the room, surrounded by the rest of the crew, Izzy let himself be cared for again.