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Izzy knew it was a bad idea. He would've said so if they had literally any other option, but, well, they didn't. When your only chance is a suicide mission, you might as well give it your best shot. So he did, or at least wanted to.
It happened fast. Izzy should've seen it coming, it was quite obvious the prince would try this, anyone would. Izzy would've done the same if he was the one being held hostage. He's delt with this before, too, way too many times at that. He knew exactly what should be done, and yet he stood still when the prince shifted slightly only to grab someone's gun and take his aim.
Duck, strike, disarm. It was as simple as that. He's done it so much he didn't really think about it anymore, he just let his body do the work. Duck, strike, disarm. Simple. So why was he standing there, idle, staring at the gun pointed at him like an idiot?
The whole thing lasted less than a few seconds, but he managed to catch the moment the prince's finger pulled the trigger. Izzy couldn't move. His feet seemed rooted in the soil as he braced himself for the hit.
All air was forced out of his lungs the moment he hit the ground. His back fired up with dull pain, but otherwise he felt fine. For a brief moment he thought the prince missed, but he knew it was just an illusion. He's been shot before, he knew how it worked. Adrenaline could do wonders. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain go kick in.
A second passed, then another one, and one more. Battle raging all around, Izzy felt... Pressure. Pressure on his stomach, and something warm and wet, soaking through his waistcoat. Blood? He opened his eyes to see silver hair spilling all over his chest and blood trickling down his side.
No.
Izzy sat up, panic setting in. Ed was laying face down on top of him. He wasn't moving. Fuck.
"Ed?" he asked, shaking the man's arm frantically. "Ed, answer me!"
No reaction. Izzy cursed quietly. He grabbed Ed's uniform and turned him to himself, searching for any signs of life. That's when he noticed a red trail running down the side of his neck. When he brushed the hair off of his face he saw a gory mess that once was his captain's cheek and ear. Fucking... Fuck!
"Ed! Come on, wake up Eddie!" he cupped his face, not caring about the blood getting all over his palms and sleeves. "Eddie, please!"
Izzy didn't even notice he was crying. Tears of shock and fear ran down his cheeks as he sobbed, not knowing what to do. Ed wasn't hit directly, but the bullet grazed his face. How deep did it go? Why wasn't he waking up? There was so much blood. Is he going to be okay? He needs help. Everyone was so busy fighting (and apparently trying to show off their lung capacity, based on the constant screaming), nobody was paying attention to the two men huddled on the ground.
"Ed, come on, Eddie, wake up, come on..." Izzy mumbled, ripping off a piece of his shirt and pressing it to the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding. Fuck. It needs to be cleaned, and stitched up, and for God's sake why isn't he waking up? That's not how it was supposed to go. It's him who should've been hit, not Ed. Why would he even do such a stupid thing? Jumping in front of a bullet for him, as if he hadn't shot him himself just weeks before. Fucking hell. The fabric was soaked, and Ed was still bleeding, and that's when Izzy really started to panic. He cradled Ed in his arms, pressing him to his chest, looking around in search of someone, anyone.
"Help!" he cried, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice. Others heard it too. "Captain's been hit!"
Bonnet was near him in seconds. He took one look at Izzy's tear-stained cheeks and knew it was bad, Izzy saw his face shifting into a grimace of fear.
"He's... He's not waking up." Izzy muttered, his voice breaking. God, he felt so useless it disgusted him.
"Let me see," Stede asked, touching Ed's face gently. Izzy watched him closely, holding Ed as tight as he could without hurting him. Bonnet's fingers examined the wound carefully, just barely ghosting over the ripped up skin.
"It's not looking good." he declared finally.
Izzy scoffed.
"No shit." he knew it was bad, anyone could see that.
"Language." Stede shot him a stern glance. His muscles shifted, but he was still, his features sharpened with focus. Izzy bit his tongue not to say something more. "Believe me, I'm just as scared as you are, but we've got to work together on this."
The look Stede gave him was so serious Izzy could only nod, suddenly speechless. How the hell was he so calm? Izzy had never seen him so... Determined. The closest was the killing of Ned, but even then... No. This was different. Izzy wouldn't like to find himself in Bonnet's way right now.
"We... We need to get him to the ship." he said, voice a bit stronger.
"We most certainly do. Get up."
To his surprise, Izzy did. Not letting go of Ed for one second, he lifted him up and threw one of his arms over his shoulder with Stede doing the same. Ed's limp body hang heavy between them, but they moved somehow, bending down not to draw too much attention. Once they were at the edge of the treeline, battle behind them, Stede stopped for a moment.
"We're gonna have to make a run for it." he said, glancing at Izzy. "You think you can do that?"
"Fuck off." Izzy wiped his face. This was no time for crying. "We're doing it."
"Alright then. All crew!" he hollered, so loud Izzy stumbled, surprised. "Fall back to the ship! Now! That's an order!"
The sounds of battle stopped for a split second before Izzy and Stede heard the patter of tens of feet running towards them through the forest. Then they heard the yelling.
"Run!"
Izzy had never ran so fast in his life. Fear faded out as fire in his legs and lungs grew stronger. Ed's blood trickled down his arm and chest, but he didn't mind, all he could focus on was the ship, getting closer with every second. They will make it. They have to. They were almost there when the rest of the crew reached them, some fighting off the soldiers following, some assisting them with Ed. With the help of the crewmates they somehow managed to haul their captain aboard, and while everyone got straight back to fighting, ensuring safety of the ship, Izzy sat on the main deck, holding Ed close. With Ed's head rested on his shoulder and arms wrapped around his captain, he could feel his chest raising in a slow, but steady rhythm. He was alive. Unconscious, and for quite some time too, but alive. Izzy sat there, listening to him breathing, focusing on the sound, convinced he's never heard something so beautiful.
He wouldn't have known the battle was over if it weren't for the crew gathered around them. They kept a distance, not really knowing what to do, and only Stede walked up straight to Izzy and kneeled beside him.
"Is he..."
"He's breathing." Izzy stated, with such force he surprised himself. "Bring me alcohol, warm water and a few cloths." he ordered, and the crew listened. They either trusted him or were too scared to object, but it made no difference. "And a threaded needle."
"Are you going to... Stitch it?" Bonnet asked, doubt in his voice.
"I am, yes. And you're going to help me."
"Oh," Stede went slightly pale. The courage he'd shown on land, perhaps powered by adrenaline alone, seemed go be wearing off. "I think it's crucial that you know I've never had any experience with... Medical, uh, interventions, so I'm afraid I won't be of much assistance-"
"I don't give a fuck." Izzy cut him off. The moment of weakness down at shore was long gone, with only shame lingering behind. Izzy was back, up and ready, and by God, Ed is not going to die, not on his watch.
Roach appeared on deck, carrying a bucket of water and strips of clean, white fabric thrown over his shoulder. Frenchie followed with a glass bottle full of... Rum? Moonshine? Whatever, as long as it's strong, it works.
"Bonnet, take off your uniform and lay him down on it. Frenchie, give me that." The crew gave him an indecisive look. After all, Bonnet was the captain, not him. But seeing as Stede got to work without a word of complaint, Frenchie handed him the bottle and needle.
"Can I... Help somehow?"
"Not here, but we're gonna have to carry him to his quarter after we're done, so why don't you make sure everything's ready there?"
"Yes, sir."
Izzy commanded the crew around, not because there was so much to be done, but to make sure no one bothers him.
"He's ready." Stede said. "What now?"
Izzy pulled the cork out of the bottle. "Now you hold him down. This will hurt like a motherfucker and he might just wake up."
Bonnet took a hold of the captain's arms before Izzy poured a healthy amount of booze all over his cheek. Nothing happened.
"He... He isn't waking up." Stede pointed out, stating the obvious.
"I can see that." Izzy clenched his jaw. He was worried, of course, but there was too much to be done to have time to worry. "Well, good for him, I guess. Stitching isn't exactly pleasant too."
Stede nodded.
"What do I do?"
"Sit behind him and grab his head. It can't move while I'm sewing." Izzy took one piece of fabric, let it soak in the warm water, then gently rubbed it around the wound, wiping off blood. More came immediately, so he handed Bonnet the cloth.
"Clean it while I'm stitching, I need to see what I'm working with."
"You got it."
Izzy rinsed the threaded needle with alcohol. Focus. You've done it before, you had it done, Christ, you've stitched yourself up so many times you lost count long ago. Never stitched up a face, though. Fuck it, it's all the same. Skin's skin. He exhaled slowly and steadied his hands before sticking the needle into Ed's cheek.
Stede winced, but Ed gave no reaction. This is fine, Izzy told himself. Just do your job. His captain's skin was soft under his fingers, it gave in easily under the pressure of the needle. Izzy pulled the thread through and tied it into a tight knot, all without Ed waking up. The only sign he was alive was slow, but steady raising and falling of his chest. One stitch done, about twenty? Thirty more to go?
"You good?" he asked Stede who looked like he was about to pass out. He half expected him to get up and leave (perhaps to go and throw up), but, to his surprise, Bonnet took a deep breath and nodded.
"I'm fine." he said, wiping off the fresh blood that gathered around the edges of the wound, and for some bizarre reason Izzy believed him. "Do continue."
The next stitch went smooth, and a few more as well. It got tricky around the place where Ed's ear used to be, but Izzy managed, somehow. They weren't alone on deck, but it was quiet. There wasn't much to be done, with the enemy dead and ship safe, and the crew could do whatever they wished, but most of them stayed; sitting around Izzy and Stede, offering assistance whenever needed, or just being there, as if to show them they weren't alone. They too were scared for their captain.
The sun was setting by the time Izzy tied the last stitch.
"Done?" Stede gave him a hopeful smile.
Izzy nodded.
"Pass me the booze."
He rinsed the sutures and wiped his hands on his bloodstained waistcoat. He tried to stand up, but stumbled, feeling dizzy. The crew was near him within seconds.
"What's wrong?"
"You okay?"
"Izzy?"
Exhaustion hit him like a wave. He hadn't realized how tired he was, after all, they managed to face execution, break out of prison, fight the British and stitch up their captain all in one day. He shrugged it off. His duty wasn't over yet.
"I'm fine, unhand me." he shook his head, chasing away the darkness lingering on the edge of his vision. "Bonnet, help me carry him inside. The rest of you... Clean up this mess." he gestured to the deck, the bloodied uniform, scraps of cloth and splashes of water and alcohol. The crew got to it while Stede and him took Ed to his quarter (with Fang's assistance, because for some reason the captain suddenly felt much heavier than on land). After they managed to lay him down on the bed, Izzy collapsed on the couch with a heavy sigh. Fuck. He needed a drink. As if reading his mind, Stede opened a few drawers, only to emerge with a bottle in his hands.
"Ha! I knew I had it stashed somewhere here." he beamed despite looking like shit. Izzy didn't look much better. The blood dried on his clothes and skin, stiff and uncomfortable. "Fancy a glass?"
"Do you really have to ask?"
Bonnet sat beside him, offering him a glass of whiskey. Izzy smelled it; good stuff. He downed it in one sip. Stede raised his brows, but didn't say anything, just poured him another one. They drank in silence, taking turns giving each other refills, sitting ridiculously close to each other, but Izzy couldn't care less. He felt himself dozing off, when Stede cleared his throat. Izzy noticed he was squeezing the bottle so hard his knuckles went white.
"Something on your mind?" he asked, though he was almost certain he knew the answer.
"I..." Stede trailed off, gaze wandering to Ed, laying peacefully on the bed. "I just thought he'd be back by now."
"Me too."
Another moment of silence.
"Is he going to be okay?"
Izzy sighed.
"Listen, Bonnet-"
"Stede." he cut him off, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "How about that, hm?"
Izzy scoffed quietly. It did have a nicer ring to it.
"Stede," he said, and if Bonnet had a tail, he'd be wagging it. Cute. "Ed is... Tough. Tougher than you'd think. And he's been through some shit. He'll tell you about it one day, I think."
"The father business?" Stede asked. "I've heard that one, you know. Horrible thing."
"Yeah, figured you knew." Izzy smiled, though with no joy. "But there's more. See, being young kids on a random ship, with nothing to come back to and nothing to lose, having to literally fight your way through life... It changes people. Stuff happens, so horrid or heartbreaking it leaves scars that no one else can see. Not many survive. Ed should've died countless times, and God knows I'm no better. But a bad thing never dies, eh?"
Izzy stared into his glass, unaware of the fact that Stede's been looking at him all along. He reached out, cautious, and rested his palm on Izzy's shoulder.
"I'm sorry to hear that." he said quietly. "I'm... I'm sorry you had to go through that."
Izzy glanced at him only to see Bonnet gazing at him with regret and... Kindness. Rare thing in the pirate world. Hesitating for just moment, he covered Stede's hand with his own.
"No need to be sorry. It's not your fault." he replied, then cleared his throat. It wasn't like him to get so sentimental after just a few drinks. "What I'm trying to say is, he'll be fine. It's not looking great right now, and I'll be honest, it isn't great at all, but he's been through worse. He just needs some rest, and in a few days he'll be as good as new. You'll see."
"I hope you're right..." Bonnet sighed. "I suppose someone should stay here in case he wakes up, right?"
"Would be good, yeah." Izzy motioned for him to give him the bottle. "You go, I can keep an eye on him for a few hours."
"You sure about that? Don't you want to rest a little, perhaps take a bath?"
"Nah." Izzy gave him a small smile. "Go. The crew needs their captain to tell them everything's gonna be okay. They're probably going crazy up there."
"Well, if you say so..." Stede got up hesitantly. "Do you need anything? I'll have dinner sent to you, if you want, you should eat something warm. I..." he trailed off, looking at Izzy with puzzlement, and before Izzy knew what was happening, Stede cupped his face and gave him a gentle kiss on his dirty forehead.
"Tell me if anything happens, alright?" he asked, and then he was gone before Izzy could say or do anything.
Well I'll be damned, Izzy thought, staring at the doorway where the man had vanished. As if this day couldn't be more fucked up. A kiss? A forehead kiss from Stede fucking Bonnet? Christ. He'll worry about that tomorrow.
He got up from the couch, bottle still in his hand. The room was spinning. Stumbling (exhaustion, booze and a fairly fresh stump weren't exactly the perfect match), he made his way to Ed, who looked just as they left him. Still unconscious, but breathing. Izzy took a healthy swing of whiskey.
"How you doin', eh?"
He didn't get an answer, unsurprisingly. God, look at you, a voice in the back of his head spoke up. Talking to a half dead man.
"Hell, you're not looking great, you know?"
Izzy sat down on the captain's bed, and took another sip, looking Ed over carefully. If it weren't for the stitches and blood-soaked clothes, he'd look like was asleep. Right. The clothes.
"I'll get that off of you, if you don't mind."
He set the bottle on the floor and started working on the buttons of Ed's shirt. Once done with that, he took it off completely, pulled it out from under his back and tossed it on the floor. He glanced at his chest, making sure it's moving, and sighed heavily.
"What were you thinking?" he asked, and he meant it as an insult, but it came out sad. "Getting shot for me, a captain protecting his first mate. You put a bullet in me yourself not so long ago, and now what? Were you jealous? You think you're the only one who has the privilege to shoot at me? Christ. You could've gotten yourself killed, for fuck's sake. And still might, obviously. I'm not the best doctor, you know that."
A bitter laugh rang through the room. Good thing Izzy was alone.
"Don't you dare, though. Die on me and I swear I'll find you in the afterlife just to kick your ass. I mean it."
Fucking hell. Izzy was tired. He rested his head on the pillow next to Ed.
"Still not waking up, huh?" he put his palm on Ed's chest, feeling his heart beat steadily beneath his fingertips. It was late. He should get some sleep.
"That's alright." Izzy mumbled, closing his eyes. "Can't wait to see your ugly face tomorrow, my love."
"My love?"
Izzy froze. Fuck. Fucking fuck. That's not how he thought it would go.
"Ed!" he sat up, which made him dizzy, but only for a moment. Sure enough, Ed was awake, staring at him with an inscrutable look on his face. "You're... You're awake. That's... Good." Izzy shifted to get off the bed. Idiot. What was he thinking?
Then, Ed's hand gripped his arm.
"Stay."
Izzy avoided his gaze, getting up, moving away.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I'll go get Stede and-"
"Iz." the way he said it made Izzy soft. "Stay. Please."
Doubtful, Izzy sat back down. Christ. He's so fucked.
"My love... You haven't called me that in a while."
Izzy scoffed.
"Can you blame me?"
"I saved you, didn't I?"
"Why?" Izzy felt tears welling up in his eyes. That's what bugged him, that's what he couldn't understand no matter how hard he tried. "Why did you do that, you insufferable twat?"
Izzy was crying again and he hated himself for it. Suddenly Ed's arms were all over him, pulling him against Ed's chest as he sobbed.
"Why save me if you wanted me dead?"
"It's the least I could do." Ed's words were quiet. "God, Iz. You're covered in blood."
"Yours." Izzy sniffled.
"Come on, let's take this off."
Izzy felt Ed's hands undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and shirt. He shuddered. It's been some time since he felt that, since the last time Ed undressed him. Izzy missed it.
"Come here, Iz. Lay down. You look like shit."
Izzy huddled, head now rested on Ed's shoulder instead of the pillow. Ed's arm came around, pressing him to his chest.
"You should see yourself."
Through the blur of tears he saw Ed touching his face, fingers tracing the stitches.
"You did this?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Good. I wouldn't trust anyone else with it."
Izzy sobbed silently against Ed's skin.
"I'm sorry." Ed whispered. "For those months... I-"
"Shut up." Izzy cut him off. "Just shut up. Please." he wasn't ready for this conversation, not now that Ed was holding him close despite being half dead mere hours ago. Ed hasn't held him like that in ages. Recently, every time he felt Ed's touch, pain followed. "We'll talk about it tomorrow. Now... Let me have this. Please."
Ed's body was warm against Izzy's chest. It felt nice not to be scared. Even nicer when Ed pressed his lips against his forehead, just like he did long ago.
"Sure thing, Iz." Ed hugged him tighter. "Sure thing."