Archive of Our Own ^beta

Catching back up to the Revenge took longer than Stede would have ever expected. It was nearly a month of stumbling across the bloody wake of where his ship was before they had her in their sights. The flag of Blackbeard, dark against the whites of the sails, danced in Stede’s view.

His crew filled him in when he found them on that little beach. Told him how distraught Ed had been when he came back. How he had holed away in the Captain’s quarters wearing Stede’s red velvet robe for days. Hearing that made Stede’s chest ache, but hearing how Ed abandoned the men afterwards just made him confused and hurt.

That hurt only intensified when cannons ringed angrily on their arrival, forcing them to wave a white flag. As Stede rowed over, he could see the dark shape of Ed, long hair whipping in the wind, looming over the smaller shape of Izzy. Both of their frames held sharp lines of anger, Ed seemed to bark at Izzy who grimaced with fury as Stede grew closer.

So maybe it should have come at no surprise that when Stede finally climbed up the ship's ladder, the Revenge he boarded was hardly the ship he remembered. Much of what made the ship his was stripped away. The pleasant air of fine things gone, replaced with the lived in harshness one would usually associate with a pirate ship. Then again- he too replaced much of what made him fine with a lived in harshness.

Once aboard Stede’s eyes scanned the deck, finding that Ed had moved himself far from the ladder, now up at the bow of the ship, his eyes forced to the horizon. He only caught a glance of his former co-captain before Izzy stepped between them.

“You’re not welcome here, Bonnet,” the words more of a growl than a statement.

“Well, that’s strange considering I am the owner of this vessel?” Stede querked back, bending to look around the small angry man.

Izzy’s hand pressed into Stede’s chest, stopping him as he began to walk forward towards the bow. Stede’s eyes shot back to Izzy’s, his face twitching into a scowl, as he pushed the gloved hand off his chest.

“He doesn’t want to see you, Bonnet,” Izzy hissed, stepping closer into Stede’s space. It always amazed Stede, how the man in front of him could look so furious and self righteous at the same time. Loathing and excited. Made him wonder what lines got crossed in Izzy’s head when he was younger.

So when Stede’s dagger slid easily into Izzy’s gut, it didn’t come as such a surprise that he didn’t feel as bad as he probably could.

Izzy’s eyes switched from loathing to confusion as his fingers palpated the wound, warm blood covering them. His mouth slid open with dumbfounded surprise, reminding Stede of a fish’s desperate attempt to breath on land. When Izzy finally looked back up from his bleeding side Stede met those confused eyes with a raised eyebrow and cocky smile. “I think he can tell me that himself.”

Stede took advantage of Izzy’s shock, side stepping him to make his way to the bow of the ship. The rest of the skeleton crew did little to stop him, Fang and Ivan rushing to Izzy’s side. He could hear the faint addled mutter of, “He fuckin’ stabbed me,” as he began to climb the stairs to meet Ed.

Ed didn’t turn, his forearms lazy against the railing. Seeing him again, after a month and a half apart, in some ways it felt like coming home to Stede. The warmth and excitement was quickly replaced when Ed finally turned, just his head to the side, and his dark eyes pierced Stede. That ice spread through his chest as he saw what Edward had become in their time apart. His blood shot eyes were smudged with days old kohl, scruff and grime framing his jaw, all traces of gentleness scrubbed away.

Stede realized quickly that he did this, and that drove the cold ache of guilt to spread even more rapidly, his throat closing around it as he attempted to swallow that guilt down. He took another cautionary step towards Ed.

“Stay the fuck away from me,”Ed snapped, turning, his shoulders moved as a cat would raise its haunches before an attack.

That stopped him in his tracks, the venom dripping from Ed’s words.

“I came… back,” Stede weakly exclaimed, a tired cautious smile attempting to pull itself across his lips.

“Well, you can kindly fuck off,” Ed hissed in return. “Get off my ship.”

Stede let out a flustered laugh, a tiny exhausted exhale of air. “Ed, the Revenge is my ship. Not that I mind sharing with you.” Another small laugh punctuated the end, trying in vain to lighten the conversation.

The long haired captain turned, forearms laying back against the rail. “Ed’s gone mate. You left him waiting for you till sunrise back on a beach. Only Blackbeard now.” He spoke like he was trying to convince himself, growling the words out through clenched teeth like it hurt him to say it more than it hurt Stede to hear it. Stede could see his jaw flex, see the coiled edges of the other man’s body. He raised a mostly empty bottle to his lips, draining the rest in one long gulp. It became instantly obvious that Ed was horribly drunk.

He took another tentative step towards Ed, his arm outreached towards his tattooed shoulder.

Ed snapped around again,a saber drawn from his side, his eyes wild as stared down Stede. “I said stay. The fuck. Back.”

Pulling his own sword was a reaction Stede didn’t expect from himself, much like when he slammed Doug into that table. But the blade now rested in front of him at the ready, his body acting on some new form of instincts.

“I want to talk this through. Please. I can explain-“

Ed took a heavy step forward, his shoulders raised, his eyes darkening as he did. “No! No more fucking talking. Is that all you are?! Pretty fucking words?”

Stede could hear the murmuring of Ed’s crew behind them, watching with rapture and awe. He wished that they could go away, that he could have this moment with Ed without a captured audience set on spreading the tale around the moment they made it back to land.

Before he could open his mouth to attempt an apology, steel connected with steel as Ed swung and Stede parried the blow. The sound reveridated through the open sea air, cutting through the murmuring and muttering of their spectators. Stede stumbled back, whatever little form he had faltering with the shock of being advanced on.

It was then that Stede noticed the smudged trail from what he could only assume was tears that marked the layers of kohl lining Ed’s furious eyes. Had he been crying? The guilt choking Stede tightened its grip and Ed swung again, barely missing Stede as he jumped out of the way.

“Ed! Stop, I’m so-“ Stede began, blocking two more blows before continuing, “I’m so sorry! This is a misunderstanding!”

Ed stopped, head tilting eyebrows furling with frustration. “Oh- a fucking misunderstanding. Naw mate, I understood loud and clear. Made yourself crystal clear.” The last words were growled out, his shoulders shaking with anger as he lunged forwards once more.

This time Stede was ready and he easily blocked the attack, Ed’s footwork sloppy, his swipes heavy and lacking finesse from the alcohol. It shocked Stede when he felt himself move again on instinct, kicking Ed square in his stomach, causing the taller man to fall backwards against the deck, his sword clattering across the space. He didn’t realize he had his sword pointed down at Ed until the image of what he was doing was reflected back at him in Ed’s eyes.

“Would you just LISTEN to me. I am sorry,” Stede exclaimed, sword outstretched, tip inches from Ed’s chin. With a sigh, Stede lowered the saber, letting his shoulders relax, his voice quieting before he continued, “I am truly… sorry. But if you’d stop attacking me for a minute, maybe I could explain.”

Ed blinked, his eyes wide as he looked back up at Stede standing over him. For a moment there was silence, the soft lapping of tide against the hull of the ship and wind the only sound filling the space. Stede sheathed his sword and bent down to help Ed back up to his feet. Ed flinched away at first, his eyes flickering between Stede’s face, his outreached hand and the sword at his side.

“Please…”

Ed reached up, grabbing Stede’s forearm and hoisting himself up against Stede’s planted weight. He stumbled once back on his feet, the smell of rum rolling off him in waves. Despite that, Stede’s heart fluttered at the touch of Ed’s gloved hand, the feeling of warmth and pressure. He wanted to bury his head into Ed’s neck, press his entire body against the other man and pull him close. He didn’t realize just how much he missed Ed, even this rum soaked angry version.

“Yeah. Guess… if you’re here, might as well… talk,” Ed mumbled low enough for only Stede to hear. He pulled back and straightened his jacket as he turned, reaching down to retrieve his sword. The loss of contact caused Stede to frown and made him reach back out, his fingers just brushing the edge of his leather sleeve. Before his fingers even had the chance to pull away, Ed turned, suddenly very close, and Stede felt steel plunge into his side. He was getting quite used to the feeling of being stabbed.

Ed’s eyes glowed, his lip raised like a feral dog as he looked back down at Stede. It was Stede’s turn to be shocked, but for some reason the pain in his side wasn’t what was consuming his mind. Instead he found himself staring up at Ed, closer now than in over a month, and his fingers dropped from the edge of Ed’s sleeve and up to his face. Careful hands framed Ed’s scruffy cheeks, finger tips winding into the dirty tendrils of the unkempt hair lining Ed’s jaw. This time, he didn’t flinch away from Stede’s touch, flashes of confusion and anguish and loathing dancing across his face and Stede brought Ed’s face closer to his own.

Time seemed to still. Stede could feel the warmth of blood blooming across his belly and the ice melting from his chest. As he shifted on his heels, pushing himself up to meet Ed, he realized Ed stabbed him on his left side. That was a good sign at least.

Their second kiss was unlike their first in some way, and like it in a lot of others. An awkward press of lips, Ed seemed to freeze at first, before weakly returning the gesture, his free hand moving to cup Stede’s neck lightly. It only lasted a moment before Ed pulled away, a quiet sob replacing where Stede’s lips just were. Stede held him, even with his blood now dripping onto the deck, and softly rested his forehead against Ed’s.

They stood like that for a moment, Stede and Ed, eyes locked, foreheads pressed together. Ed’s eyes glazed over, tears beginning to form as Stede’s fingers drew circles against the skin behind his ears. Despite the grime and obvious neglect to his hygiene, Ed still smelled like… Ed. Salt and tobacco, leather and smoke. Stede closed his eyes as Ed drew his sword back and let it clatter to the deck, causing him to gasp, his knees giving out momentarily before Ed caught him.

“I deserved that,” Stede whispered, his thumb wiping a tear collecting in the corner of Ed’s eye, a weak smile twitching to his lips. “I truly regret leaving you, I can’t take it back, no matter how much I wish I could…and I need you to know I’m sorry.”

Ed’s eyes stayed fixed on Stede’s, but his free hand pressed against the newly opened wound, Stede’s blood coating his hand. Stede placed his hand over Ed’s, his clean fingers lacing between the bloodied ones.

“And I need you to know that I love you.”

“I don’t forgive you,” Ed breathed in response immediately, a tear streaking through the black kohl. “I won’t forgive you.”

“And I’d love you still, Edward Teach, even if you never forgive me,” Stede responded, his hushed voice breaking as the pain of the stab wound started to over take the adrenaline.

Ed searched Stede’s face, confused and in awe, looking for any indication that the blonde’s words contained some fallacy. Stede let his thumb trace Ed’s knitted brows, trying to soften the tension built there, attempting in vain to calm the storm behind those eyes.

He let his eyes slip shut, another tear falling down his cheek before he pressed a gentle kiss to Stede’s lips. Stede returned the gesture, his chest fluttering as Ed’s lips moved softly against his own.

The hurried footsteps of a small mob climbing up to the fo’c’sle and unintelligible yelling of familiar voices marked the moment officially done, and Stede turned delicately towards the noise.

Jim led the pack, Olu and Frenchie close behind them. Jim’s glare looked past Stede, piercing daggers sharper than the one at their side at Ed.

“You fuckin’ stabbed him?!” Jim growled, fingers clenched at their side, Oluwande already holding them back. Ed buried his face into Stede’s neck, unwilling to meet Jim’s furious gaze.

Stede smiled, appreciating the sentiment.

“Jim! Good to see you! Not to worry-“ Stede shifted, “See, it was my left side! Not a deadly blow.”

Ed’s fingers twitched against Stede’s neck, his fingernails grazing the sensitive sun burnt skin at the nape of his neck, his beard tickling the soft skin exposed at the collar of his shirt.

“He stabbed Izzy first,” Ed muttered, peeking up at Jim and the others.

“Oh! That’s true- I did stab Mr. Hands first,” Stede confirmed, beginning to become a little woozy.

Jim grimaced, shaking their head as Oluwande pulled them away and back down towards the masts.

Frenchie stepped forward and tentatively waved, a sad smile on his face. “Good to see you Cap’n… should I grab the sewing kit?”

Stede stumbled, pressing his weight against Ed who held him steady. “Probably for the best. Yes.”

Frenchie nodded, pausing for a blink to look between Ed and Stede back together, Stede bleeding over the two of them, a sight similar to when they first met, before turning to go get something to sew Stede back up.

Stede turned back to Ed, whose eyes still were glassy, his lips still pulled down into a whimper, and rested his head gently against his shoulder, careful to avoid the studs or shark teeth sewn into the worm leather.

“Can I stay?”

Ed was quiet, considering the question.

“Yeah. Guess you can. Not much of a crew here anyway. Could use more men. Good men. Mistake kicking everyone out, wasn’it,” He finally quipped back, the light hearted tone sounding forced, cracking with effort in his throat as he spoke.

Stede smiled, his head growing lighter with blood loss. Ed held him a little closer, a small indication of gentleness returning, and the icy grip of guilt that weighed heavy in Stede’s chest began to melt, giving way to the warmth of hope.