Archive of Our Own ^beta

They don't get very far before Stede, eager and enthusiastic, overtakes Ed again. And they don't get much further than that before Ed is out of breath, and breathing makes all his ribs hurt, and he remembers, properly remembers the constant throb of pain in his head. He's been running on adrenaline, for most of this crazy day.

And maybe a bit on the brief flight of relief of Mary's weed. Then again that had hardly counted for much, considering that it had been some of the shittiest weed Ed had smoked in his life. All scratchy in his throat, and hardly any of the good punch to it.

They used to have the good stuff, Ed thinks. Back in the day when he'd been sailing with them.

Or maybe that's just Ed's memory. He finds he can't even really tell what happened in the last few months, or, like, yesterday. His head's all fucked. Probably doesn't remember right what sorts of weed Mary and Anne used to be smoking.

Stede's out of sight between the fucking trees, and Ed doesn't have the breath left to yell after him and his knee really fucking hurts and he stumbles to a stop.

Fuck.

He leans his hands on his thighs, slumps into himself. His hair falls into his face, sticky with sweat, but he can breathe a little easier. The fire under his ribs eases down into a dull ache. The bullet graze on his arm twinges. Ed knows it's a bullet graze. He isn't entirely sure who shot him. There's the storm in his head, darkness and rain and a cannon ball and a cliff and a fall and. And a fucking mermaid with Stede's face, and Stede's actual fucking face, and Ed had been banished and Stede had come back and he was mad at Stede but Stede -

Stede loves everything about him.

Ed's head spins. There's a tight pressure behind his eyes and he still can't properly catch his breath and his fucking head hurts and his whole life doesn't make sense and Stede is gone and Ed's alone and his head really fucking hurts in earnest now. Probably has a whopper of a concussion, there.

"Ed? Ed! What's wrong?"

Stede. He didn't go on without him, and for a stupid fucking moment Ed sort of forgets all about the stupid fucking pain and the stupid fucking forest and everything else, because Stede came back. Came back when he realised Ed wasn't behind him anymore, came back when he couldn't find his way to the ship, came back after Ed was banished from the ship, came back to sea, came back to Ed even after everything and -

"Edward? Please, what's wrong?"

When Ed looks up, Stede is leaning towards him, in a stooped position to match Ed's. It brings them mostly to eye level, and Stede's eyes are big and earnest and full of concern. Nobody has ever been concerned for Ed. "I'm f-"

"Oh come on, you nut," Stede interrupts, clearly frustrated now, and he has this expression where his eyebrows go up and he kinda scrunches up his whole face. The bitchy face Ed always liked. "You are clearly not fine! A blind man could see you're not fine! You are half dead! And it's not even that Buttons said that, it's that I sat with what I thought was your corpse yesterday, which is not an experience I want to ever repeat!"

He takes a breath, and Ed thinks he should say something, he just doesn't know how to address all that, so he blurts out, still a bit breathless: "Well, he did end up turning into a bird after all, so he probably wasn't that mad. Like. You know." He tries a smile and doesn't know if he pulls it off.

But it makes Stede huff an incredulous snort of laughter. "Yes, that was quite something, wasn't it?" He shakes his head. Turns his focus back on Ed. Eyes all soft like they were when he said he loved everything about Ed.

Nobody has ever liked everything about Ed. Ed isn't even sure if anyone has ever actually liked Ed. Fuck, Ed isn't sure if he likes Ed.

"I just -" Stede continues. His hand hovers near Ed's shoulder, like he wants to touch but doesn't dare. "I don't need you to lie to me about being fine. It's just us out here. And I - I care about you, Ed. I want to know how you're feeling."

That's... certainly a Thing, because even Ed doesn't really know what Ed is feeling. Too much, feeling way too much of everything. "Stede, I don't think I can -"

Stede's eyes widen. "Oh! No, we don't have to talk about, well, all that. I meant it when I said you don't have to say it back. I don't expect anything from you, Ed."

When has anyone ever not expected anything from Ed? His whole life has been nothing but people expecting things from Ed.

Stede's hand finally does land, a gentle warm weight against Ed's shoulder. "How about we start with something simple, yes? Like, why you didn't go on." He's fucking smiling at Ed, like he isn't even mad at him, and he's warm and here and Ed's so tired and, okay, fuck it. He takes a deep breath. The deep breath has the fucking audacity to fucking hurt. He grits his teeth.

"Take your time. I can wait."

Oh. That's. Too much for tonight. "I'm -"

Stede's gaze is fixed on nothing but Ed. That's sorta too much, too. "Yes?"

Ed breaks. "I'm not fine, okay?! I'm fucking dizzy, man. My head hurts like, like there's some little fucker in there banging on my skull all the time and he won't leave. And my head feels all floaty sometimes, like it isn't on right, and then it gets all heavy and I don't - fucking sucks, you know. And, and -" He's on a roll now. -"And my knee's all fucked because of this fucking running around in fucking nature. And it hurts to breathe and my arm hurts and my, my, my Everything feels like I was thrown off a cliff, mate!" There's a memory there, or something like one, twisted and flickering, one of those pictures he can't grab. "And stuff doesn't makes sense and I feel like I'm all, all, all scrambled up and -" He runs out of breath. Stede patiently waits while Ed struggles for some air to go on, but in the end the energy Ed has left is only enough for "And I'm really fucking tired, man."

Stede nods, like all of this makes perfect sense and like Ed complaining about the things he did to himself is not only perfectly justified but also something Stede is genuinely interested in hearing. He listens and he nods and then he says "Thank you for telling me that." Like he's fucking grateful.

Ed stares. "Um."

And as if his head wasn't scrambled enough already what with the gravy basket and the snapshots of the fucking mermaid he remembers and this entire mess of a day, Stede continues to smile at him and everything out of his mouth today is throwing Ed for another loop, because the next thing Stede says is "How can I help?"

Ed blinks stupidly. How can he-? Like that too isn't ways too big a question. His dilemma has to be obvious, because Stede gives a placating wave of his hand. "Right now, I mean. In this very moment." Ed tries to think about it. Stede is faster. "How about you lean on me? As we continue walking, I mean. Would that be alright?"

Ed bites his lip. "Yeah, I think that would be okay."

"Oh, fab!"

Ed almost corrects his assessment of "okay", because next he knows Stede is pulling Ed's left arm across his shoulders and straightens under it. Doesn't even ask which of Ed's legs isn't cooperating, because of course he knows. It's ridiculous, Ed can't really fathom anyone remembering that sort of thing about him, not as a weakness to exploit, but as something to provide assistance on. But, suddenly a lot of Ed's weight seems to be just gone, and Stede is very warm and very solid and Ed sways into him before he can think against it.

So much about not melting into his arms, fucking idiot. But maybe it's okay, really? It doesn't feel not okay.

Stede seems oblivious to the crisis Ed's having. He holds him up and steady like it's nothing. His right arm winds around Ed's back, getting a firm grip around his waist. "You know, I was thinking we could work together on this mission. Of getting back to the ship."

A grin tugs unexpectedly at Ed's lips. That's hardly a mission, and with the most recent developments it seems like Stede is going to be doing all the work.

But Stede is still chattering on. "I was thinking, I could keep us moving, what with, you know." He wriggles under Ed's arm. "And you make sure we move in the right direction, because I really have no idea where I am anymore, I'm afraid. What do you say?"

Ed sighs. Leans into Stede's hold some more. "I suppose that'll be alright, mate," he mutters.

Stede beams. It's ridiculous how sunny it is even in the dim light of the nightly forest.

Ed dumbly smiles back. He supposes he looks a bit foolish, but he's about to stop caring for tonight at least. There's a lock of hair doing that thing where it flops into Stede's brow.

Eventually, Stede's smile turns into an expectant look. "Ed?"

"Yeah, mate?"

"Which way then?"

Oh. "Oh! Right." Ed shoots a quick glance up. You can't see as much sky as you could on a ship, with the stupid fucking trees all around and all, but Ed doesn't need much sky. He knows the sky better than he knows his own head right now. "There." He points, and Stede smiles another sunny smile, and then they're under way.

"Look, just so you know, I never had any feelings for Mary."

Ed looks over at Stede's face in the dark. Stede is looking back. One of them should probably pay attention to the fucking floor so they don't fucking run into anything. Ed makes himself do that. Important task. He's minding the fucking way. That's his job. They are still going in the right direction at least. "You don't have to explain, mate, really -"

"No, no, but I want to!" Stede does indeed sound eager. "I don't want any more misunderstandings. If you let me."

Ed sighs. "Fine, yeah, go ahead, man."

"Thank you!" How does he sound chipper about dissecting some of their relationship issues?

I like being near you. Breathing the same air. The memory chimes up in Ed's scrambled brain like a fucking bell.

"So, Mary's and my marriage was arranged by our parents. We didn't know each other before."

That sounds - "You married a stranger? Why would anyone-"

"Well, money. My family had a lot of money, and Mary's family had acreage, you see. A union between us combined our families ' wealth."

Ed frowns at the trees and the sky. "Mate, that's fucked up. That's. Kinda more fucked up than Anne and Mary. Just, in a different way."

Stede makes a weird sound in the back of his throat. Like he's swallowed whatever he wanted to say first. "Well, you aren't wrong. But, what's important here is, there was never any love between us. I have never felt anything for Mary that I feel for you."

Every instance of him saying it feels like a gut punch, but Ed's starting to think he might like the feeling. "Mate -"

Stede pats clumsily but earnestly at his side. "You don't have to say anything back. No pressure. But I'm going to say it. I waited so long to say it."

"Yeah?" Ed feels breathless. He isn't even running anymore.

"I spent months searching for you." Stede sighs. "Please believe me when I say that leaving you is my biggest regret."

Ed's starting to believe it. A bit. He thinks. "Then why leave? Because China was too... too much of a whim?"

Stede takes a slow breath. Let's it out. They're so close Ed can feel it almost like his own breaths. "As I said, I panicked? And, I think, to be perfectly fair to you, a lot of it wasn't on you. I. I went back to my family because I felt guilty. I thought I'd ruined their lives. I did leave them in the middle of the night when I went to sea, you know."

Ed hadn't known. "Mate, I'm starting to see a fucking pattern there."

Stede huffs a humourless laugh. "Oh, it's not just you. I definitely have a pattern of running and hurting people." A moment of silence, then "I am trying to do better."

Ed swallows. People can change, even into fucking birds, apparently. Maybe Ed can still change, too. "I think, I think I, I want to try and do better, too. I think I... hurt people too, when I hurt?"

Stede pulls him closer for half a step. It's a bit awkward, but he still feels so warm and solid pressed up against Ed's side. "We could both try to do better then?"

Ed nods. His head throbs with it. Fucking head. They're having a moment here. Rude. "I think I might like that," he says, in case Stede missed on the nodding, what with the darkness and the walking and the headache. No, wait, that's his headache. Oh. "Hey, look, when I headbutted you? That doesn't still hurt, does it?"

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. I didn't even get a black eye!" Stede is still the first ever person in Ed's acquaintance who never seems to be confused about a change of topic. And the first ever to sound actually a bit disappointed he didn't get a black eye.

"Damn, should have tried harder."

Stede jostles him with a laugh, then immediately has to catch him when Ed's aching, tired body does not respond great to the jostling. Stede makes sure Ed is steady before he goes on. "I think the head injury you already have is bad enough. Didn't need to go and make it worse."

"Eh, probably right." Perhaps did make it worse, but in Ed's defence, he hadn't been thinking straight.

He isn't sure when exactly he's last been thinking really straight.

"Anyway, I want you to know that Mary and I are only friends and really that was only after the last few days, after she tried to kill me."

She tried to - "What?" This day is giving Ed whiplash.

"Oh, yes. Tried to stab me, in the earhole, with a skewer!" The crazy fucker sounds delighted by it.

"What the fuck," Ed says, just to say something.

"It wasn't so bad, and I think I kinda deserved it. I ruined her art show, and I pulled a knife on Doug."

"Who's Doug?"

"Oh, he's her new lover."

Ed's head is spinning. He grits his teeth. What the fuckity fuck. "Mate, I need this to make sense, alright? You said you don't have feelings for her, but you pull a knife on her new bloke? Doesn't look like no feelings from here."

"Oh, no, it was nothing like that. He's a great guy, really, they are such a good fit. But I was in a bad mood, and I'd had a few drinks, and he startled me, so I. I did "unhand me or bleed" on him." He sounds so proud. And fuck, Ed's proud of him, too. Teaching him that had taken two whole evenings. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"That was a good thing to do then?"

"Oh, it did lead to us all making a plan to fake my death so I could come back to find you."

Ed tugs at Stede to steer them around a small pond Stede would have walked right into. "You faked your death."

"Oh, yes, it was a delightful fuckery. You would have loved it."

Yeah, Ed thinks, he probably might have.

For a moment they stumble on in silence. Then Stede hums. "You know, for however little I was enjoying their company at the end there, it is quite a shame Anne torched their shop. They had quite exquisite pieces in there, and I am rather a bit low on furniture on the ship."

Ed sighs. "I'm sorry about throwing your stuff overboard." It's true. He is sorry. "And stabbing up your cabin."

"There were rather a lot of knives."

Ed grimaces. But something is missing in Stede's tone here. "You can say that you're mad."

"Oh, no, I'm not." He deals a reassuring pat to Ed's wrist where it dangles over his shoulder.

That doesn't even make sense. "Should be. I mean. You must've been angry when you saw."

Stede stiffens under Ed's arm. Their pace falters for a moment before Stede snycs back up to Ed's limp.

There's a moment of silence.

Ed waits for some kind of outburst, but what comes is a heavy sigh. "I wasn't angry," Stede says, in that quiet, earnest voice from back on Anne's couch. With something heavy underneath. "I was sad, Ed. I felt... guilty. I could see, everywhere, how much you were hurting all this time."

Fuck. That's worse than an outburst. Ed would rather be yelled at. There's a lump in his throat. He swallows around it. Has the ridiculous notion to say "Not your fault", which is about the last thing he'd thought he'd say, ever. He wouldn't have thought he'd say that even an hour ago.

Stede huffs. "Oh, please. I did hurt you."

Ed nods. "Yeah, you did. Hurt me so fucking much, man. But Izzy also said some stuff, and I think -" He tries to breathe past the lump. His eyes burn. "Everything had really sucked for a long time before I even met you."

"Treading water, waiting to drown," Stede whispers, like an echo from Ed's past. And fuck, that'd been the first day they'd known each other, and already then something had made Ed say that to him. And Stede remembered.

Ed nods. "Yeah." Remembers distantly what feels like a lifetime of treading water. And then - "And then I just couldn't -" He sniffs.

"I still am sorry." Stede slows them down for a bit, lets Ed catch his breath. And when Ed feels like he's pretty sure he won't start actually crying at least, Stede pulls him briefly closer and says, in a chipper voice "I still am a bit put out about the lack of furniture. Not mad at you, just. A bit upset?" His tone goes playful bitchy, and Ed can still read this like he could before everything. "Couldn't you have at least kept the chaise lounge? The upholstery on that one was exquisite."

The upholstery was - Ed can't help it, he laughs. It pulls at all sorts of things that shouldn't be pulled, it makes his head throb with complaint, but it feels so good. When he looks over, Stede is grinning at him, and Ed thinks maybe things really might be okay.

The moment breaks when Ed stumbles over a tree root and a twinge bad enough to make him wince with it shoots up from his bad knee. Fucking nature fuck.

But Stede catches his weight without issue, and they keep making steady if slow progress down the not-path they're walking. "Whatever happened to your brace?" Stede asks. Conversationally. Like that's something Ed can just talk to him about.

Well, maybe he can. Thing is just. Well. "It kinda stayed at the academy? I think. I did grab my jacket and pants and boots and stuff, but brace wasn't there when I -" He remembers unpacking, the empty cabin on the Revenge. Nope, not thinking about this again, too early. "Might have lost it on the way. Or some fucker took it to sell. Would make good money. It was a damn expensive thing to have made. Difficult to find, too." He's aware he's rambling, and that he's leaving out that bit where he'd been sort of glad to go without the brace because he'd wanted to hurt and sometimes hurt had been the only thing that had actually made him feel alive. Rambling about difficulties in buying knee braces is better than to linger on that night. Stede came back. Stede came back and Stede loves everything about Ed.

"That's a shame," Stede says. "We'll have to see to finding a new one for you. I hate to see you hurting."

That stops the danger of further rambling right in its tracks, because what the fuck is Ed supposed to say to that? Nobody has ever hated to see Ed hurting. He continues on their way for a minute, while hurting all over, thinking about how Stede wants him to not hurt. Ed think he wants to not hurt, too.

"Ed?"

Ed's grateful for the interruption. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, I've been thinking about it all day. What did you mean, this morning, that I'm not a mermaid? Buttons said it had to do with the whole gravy bucket place you'd been to?"

"Basket," Ed corrects. "It's a gravy basket."

"Bucket, basket, why does that even matter?"

Fucked if Ed knows. "S just the name, gotta stick to it. You can't just go running around calling a basket a bucket. What's next? A sail's a blanket to you?"

"Well, to be fair, one can see a sort of resemblance. Big sheets, you know. But a sail would make such a scratchy blanket." An honest to god shiver goes down Stede's frame at the thought.

Ed shakes his head. Sometimes he just can't with this guy, so ridiculous. He's never met anyone like him.

"So, was there a mermaid? In the basket?"

Water. Sinking. A slip of rope and a golden glow and a fucking fish tail with the face Ed longed to see most. "Uh, yeah. I guess. I don't think I really remember it completely clearly anymore? It feels like a dream?" He frowns. Walks a few steps in silence, trying to get a grip on his memory. "I think I was... drowning, in the dream. Or in the gravy basket."

Stede squeezes him closer again. "Sounds like a nightmare," he says, softly, still so full of concern.

"Probably was, yeah. But then there was a light, like, a sunrise underwater? And the rope was gone and -"

"What rope?"

"Rope was pulling me down, tied to a big rock."

Stede shudders against him. "Ed, that sounds horrible."

Ed just nods because it was. "But then there was the mermaid. And he told me I was safe? And I think I stopped drowning?" He pauses. Thinks about leaving out this part, but hey, they're being honest here tonight. "And he looked like you. The mermaid. Merman?"

Stede lets out a soft "oh". Is quiet for a few moments, long enough to make Ed wonder if that was too weird to say. But then Stede beams at him. "I would have loved to be a merman."

It sounds a bit like "would have loved to keep you from drowning".

Ed can't. Nope, enough honesty and feelings. "Would perhaps not be ideal, you being a mermaid. Between my bum knee and your fins, we'd never make it back to the ship."

"That's right, I suppose." Stede nods. "But I'm glad you didn't drown. In the gravy basket."

There's a heavy moment of silence. Somewhere in the forest, an owl hoots. "I thought you died," Stede says, quietly, barely above a whisper.

"I thought I died, too." Ed takes a breath. A step. Another. Suddenly feels like he wants to, needs to say it at least this once. One more round of feelings and honesty for the road. "I meant to die."

Stede's arm tightens around Ed's waist. Ed didn't think Stede could still grab him more tightly, because he's been squishing Ed a bit since they started out. It's not a bad squish. Ed thinks he might like it. But here they are, with Stede crushing Ed into his side like he needs to hold onto him in case he too flies off like a bird. It hurts a bit, pressure singing along some parts of the Everything of Ed that feels like it fell off a cliff. Ironically, it feels like a nice snug blanket to cover up that empty ache inside Ed feels when he tries to think back to, well, to before.

Stede's voice is still quiet, and there's something of a shake to it. Ed can feel it, the tremor under the ribs pressed so close to his own. "And is that still on or-"

It's almost the same wording as months ago, when Ed confessed to his plan of killing Stede. Now he's confessing to having wanted to kill himself, and Stede is asking about it with nearly the same words, with the same tone. Like he's not judging, like he's just sad and concerned, for Ed. Back then, Ed didn't really want to kill Stede, and now, he thinks, he also didn't really want to die. He just didn't think there was another choice, another way, in either situation. Stede though? Stede makes choices, some of them are terrible, but he makes them so bravely and unashamedly.

"Ed?" The question is quiet, tentative, but it shakes Ed out of his thoughts, and oh fuck he has to answer Stede because this isn't the type of question you want to hear a long silence after, fuck. Ed wants to choose too. He wants to do what makes Ed happy. "Ed? Do you still -?"

A cliff. A rock a rope darkness sinking -"No!" A light, like hope. "No. Nope, no. Changed my mind."

Stede heaves a sigh of relief so huge that he sags with it, stumbling their coordinated limping pace to a halt. It's a sigh Ed can feel in his own bones, like an echo.

Ed remembers feeling what he'd thought was relief, when he'd finally gotten someone to try and smash his head in. And he remembers feeling actual, genuine relief when he'd - Water. Sinking. Drowning. A rope pulling down. The rope being gone. A light and a mermaid and a voice through the fog. "No, I - no more dying. I'm done with that," he adds, just to say something because he feels...

"I'm very glad," Stede says from his side, at a more normal volume, but with his voice full of too much emotion for Ed to parse or dare phrase out aloud.

He can feel it, though, echoing in his own chest. "Yeah. Yeah, me too."

When the first salty smell of the sea hits Ed's nose he could have cried. Except he was done crying and it would have freaked Stede out and at this point Ed's so fucking tired and so fucking glad to see the masts of the Revenge because he can finally stop fucking walking and he's not even mad at Stede anymore.

He should tell him. "Hey Stede," he mumbles.

"What is it?"

They'd fallen into silence that last part of the walk and it hasn't been uncomfortable. Ed doesn't think he has any more energy for any more world changing talks tonight.

"I'm." Ed lifts his head to look at him. "I'm glad you came back." That probably counts.

Stede beams him another blinding smile and for a moment he does look like a magical sea creature.

The dinghy sits calmly at the shore, as if it had waited for them all through this turbulent day. It's been such a turbulent day that Ed only now recalls that nobody but Stede will actually want to see him ever again.

As if sensing his hesitation, Stede squeezes him close again, leading him steadily on towards the little boat. "I'm sure it's going to be fine. I'll put in a good word. Also, I'm the captain, and I saved all their lives the other day. I'm sure we can reach a compromise."

He saved all their lives? There's so much going on Ed has no idea about, but by now he's too exhausted to ask. He just wants to sit down. "Hmm."

Stede guides him down into the dinghy and pushes it into the water before Ed's caught up with events enough to consider helping. Stede does look like he's got things under control, though. It's a good look on him.

Ed blinks and the hull of the Revenge is looming over him, tall and dark against the night sky. Bit intimidating. He has no idea what's going to happen now.

Stede ties the boat to the ladder. Leans over into Ed's space. "I think it's best you stay here for now. I'll go first and we'll work something out, yeah?"

Ed nods. "Sounds good, yeah."

Stede smiles at him. His hair looks soft. His eyes sparkle in the moonlight. "You'll have to make amends with the crew. Work on regaining their trust."

"Hmm."

Stede sighs, but something in his face softens. "I'll be right back."

And funnily, as he watches him climb up the ladder, Ed finds he believes him.

There's voices floating around the ship from the deck. Yelling at first, probably not a good sign. But things quiet down. Things quiet down a lot. Ed thinks he should probably be worried? But he wants to trust Stede. Stede came back and Stede's being so fucking earnest and Ed doesn't deserve him but maybe that doesn't matter because Stede loves everything about Ed. And Ed thinks he maybe never stopped loving everything about Stede, either. Maybe he never stopped being all in, deep down. He just doesn't know how to dig that bit back out yet. Thinks be might want to. Doesn't know if he can.

The boat rocks. Occasionally wood knocks against wood when the waves push the dinghy against the Revenge. There are still voices up there, but they hardly reach Ed in his little boat. It's quiet down here.

The boat rocks. Ed's head hurts. He shifts on the bench. Slides down to the bottom of the boat, where he can stretch his leg out and rest his head against the gunwale.

The boat rocks. Above him, the sky is alight with stars. Ed doesn't know when he last looked at the stars. They're beautiful.

The boat rocks. Ed's eyes close.

The boat rocks.

There's a voice. A touch on his arm. "Ed?"

The boat rocks. Ed floats with it.

"Ed? Come on, wake up, Ed." Stede's voice is soft and gentle. His hand is rubbing Ed's shoulder. "You can't sleep in the dinghy."

"Can too." Ed shifts. Something digs into his back. He winces. Okay, not ideal.

"See, this is exactly what I meant, you nut." Stede makes it sound like an endearment. "You'll just feel worse in the morning. Come on, let's get you up and into a real bed, yes? Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Hmm." It does sound good. Ed rouses himself with quite some effort. His eyes are crusted shut and lifting his hand to rub at them wakes up a thousand different aches and pains all over. "Fuck me," Ed groans.

Sitting up makes the boat tip dramatically to the side.

"Easy! I've got you!" Stede's arm is back around him, still warm and solid and Ed missed it. His head comes to rest against Stede's shoulder. It's a very solid shoulder. Good pillow. Could stay here. Wouldn't be too bad. "Ed?"

Ed blinks. His head feels swimmy. "Hmm?"

"Are you dizzy?"

"Hmm. Bit." A-bit-to-much-rum dizzy. Just without the rum.

"Alright, damn, let's just -" Stede sounds worried. "Can you try and take a couple of nice, deep breaths, maybe? Yes?"

Ed doesn't even question it, he just automatically does it. Probably shouldn't have, because the first deep breath lights up liquid fire through half of his body. "Ow, fuck, mate."

Stede holds him through it. "Ed!"

He does feel less floaty, though. Pain's good for that. "That was a really bad idea, man," he grunts through clenched teeth.

Stede's arm has shifted around him and he's rubbing his back. It's nice. "I'm very sorry. What can I do? Should I get help?"

That thought wakes Ed up somewhat properly. "Shit. Crew. What'd they say?"

"Well." Stede dithers. "They are a little wary, of you, after, well, everything. But we have come to an agreement in the end. You may rejoin us on the Revenge."

Ed didn't realise how tense he'd been until he feels his own body sag with the release of the breath he'd been  holding.

"You'll just have to follow a couple of ground rules."

"Oh? What's those then?"

Stede smiles an abashed little smile. "Well, first of all, they insist on you being locked up overnight, so you can't come out and kill anybody."

"I'm not going to fucking kill anyone," Ed grumbles.

"Well, that's certainly good news." Stede is still holding Ed and Ed's too tired to complain about it. Stede is warm and Ed feels chilled down here in the dinghy. "Since I'm the Captain and you, like everyone else on this ship, are thus my responsibility, I have volunteered to keep an eye on you in the Captain's cabin."

"Oh." Ed isn't sure if he feels relieved or stressed out by the prospect. At least he won't need to watch his back all the time if they'll be locked in and all.

"Is that okay?" Stede sounds like if Ed says no he'll somehow change things.

Ed sighs. "S fine, mate, I-" A sudden, big yawn swallows the rest of his words, and by the time it's done, Ed can't remember what he was going to say anymore.

Stede is looking at him, all soft around the edges again. I love everything about you. "There's more, but we can leave that for the morning, what do you say? You're dead on your feet."

Ed doesn't even have it in himself to protest. He is dead on his feet. He's so fucking tired. He's cold and aching and this has been A Day and Ed's just about done with it all.

Stede is still smiling at him, and Ed thinks that maybe he should say something, but he can't come up with anything. He's just glad that he's here and that Stede's here and -

"Come on, up you get." Stede pulls at him, Ed's arm over his shoulders again like before, and the boat tilts this way and that with the motion and his head throbs and Ed used to have really great sea legs before today. He thinks he did. Fairly sure about it. Been on boats all his life. He's not gonna fall over, is all. Stede holds onto him like he does think Ed's gonna fall over. Which, given how much everything is tilting, he probably might do anyway. "There, there, I know it hurts, but let's try another one of those deep breaths, hm?"

Ed does. And yeah, ouch.

"Very good. Another?"

"Ow," Ed says, letting that damn deep breath out through gritted teeth.

"How's the head? Bit better? Feel a little steadier?"

Ed blinks. Well, the dinghy has stopped tilting so much. "Hm, I guess."

"Very good!" Stede pulls at him, towards the ladder. "Think you're good to go up? I'll be right behind you."

Ed squints up against the tall hull of the ship. It still is a dark, ominous shape in the night. Ed has no idea what will await him on deck. What'll happen tomorrow.

He looks back at Stede. Stede who still has a hand lightly settled on Ed's back, who waits patiently for him to start climbing. Who came back and who loves everything about Ed.

Ed settles his hands on the rungs. "Yeah, I think I'm good to go."

Stede smiles another sunbeam of a smile. "Great! Take your time, and be careful. I'll come up right after." It almost sounds like he's planning to catch Ed should he fall.

Ed starts up the rope ladder. It's somehow the longest ladder he's climbed in his life, and that makes no sense because it's just up to deck, not up into the crow's, but it seems to stretch on and on and on and Ed's head throbs and his ribs hurt and his knee hurts and he's trembling all over by the time he flops across the railing. He slumps against the wood. Very good wood, good quality, very sturdy.

Was probably the least graceful way Ed's ever climbed aboard a ship in his entire life. But there is no one to see him flounder, because the deck is deserted. Well, there's Stede, right by Ed's side, and when the fuck did he get there? Ed blinks at him.

Stede smiles around a sigh. "Here, come on." He's back in Ed's space with his arms and his side and that's certainly something. A good something. Probably.

They stumble across the deck and through the hallway and oh that painting really is fucked up, isn't it, damn. Should maybe do something about that?

The cabin is lit by a couple of candles on the table. Table still has all the knife marks in it, but there's a bowl on it and a pile of light fabric and a bottle and - things. There's also a chair sitting next to it.

And then Ed is sitting in the chair and he isn't actually sure that he meant to be sitting in the chair but it's nice to be off his feet.

The bottle floats into his field of vision. Nah. Nope. "No thanks, mate, I think booze is a bad idea." His head's fucked enough as is.

"Ah, no, no alcohol. Just water. Come on, have a sip, at least, yes?" Stede leans over to join the bottle in Ed's line of sight, and his eyes are so pleading and soft Ed sighs and makes a grab for the bottle.

His hand shakes a bit, but there is indeed water in the bottle and it's cool and so fucking refreshing Ed gulps down a couple of mouthfuls, suddenly desperately thirsty. Stede is still there with his soft look when Ed emerges from the depth of a fucking bottle of water of all things. He takes the bottle from Ed's grip. Sets it down on the table. "Will you let me take a look at your injuries?" Again with the pleading eyes.

Ed sinks deeper into the chair. "Yeah, could do," he mumbles. Someone probably should, and at this point that someone's not gonna be Ed, because Ed is ready to just slide all the way down to the floor and call it a day.

"Thank you." Another smile that lights up the room.

For a moment Stede is busy fussing with the collection of things on the table. When'd he set that up? Before coming to get Ed? Does he even know what he's looking for with the whole looking at Ed's injuries thing? Ed's taught him to stitch and dress a stab, that night after he'd made Stede stab him, but right now Ed feels like he has an impressive collection of injuries going, but a stab is not among them.

Huh. Should probably be grateful for that.

"Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"I said, can you take off your jacket?"

Oh. Yeah. Sure. Ed nods.

It takes a bit of shuffling. Ed's stiff and sore and doesn't feel like getting out of the chair, it's a good chair, he lives here now. Stede ends up having to help pull the jacket off the rest of the way, and in doing so disturbs the bullet graze near Ed's shoulder that he'd almost forgotten about for a moment there. Ed winces with pain, and Stede exclaims a sound of distress, at the wince or at the sight of the wound. Ed squints down at his arm. "S not so bad," he says.

Stede holds Ed's arm, twisting a bit so he can see and reach better. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he starts gently dabbing at the wound with a wet cloth. "This really should have been treated yesterday," he laments. "I'm sorry, Ed, I should have put my foot down more, but the crew were very upset and I -"

Ed doesn't even really remember anything clearly between his confusing wake up and the banishment in the morning. Just a whirlpool of pain and fear and light and cold and disorienting dream images and disorienting probably real people and ship movements. He isn't sure if he would have actually realised it if Stede had tried taking care of him then. And he is taking care of Ed now, so. "S fine, mate, really." He closes his eyes, relaxing into Stede's chair and Stede's hands.

The cloth is a little rough, but cool with fresh water. The wound feels better already for being clean.

A few minutes pass in silence. Ed drifts a bit in spite of the tugs of pain at his arm. Then the cool touch of the cloth disappears. There's the sound of a bottle being uncorked. Ed knows what comes next. Stede still apologises for it in advance. "I'm so sorry, this is gonna sting a bit, I'm afraid."

"Yeah, mate, I kno-OWWW." Fuck him, yeah, stings more than a bit.

"Almost done, just a moment." Stede's hand is firm around Ed's arm and his other hand keeps the alcohol soaked cloth pressed hard right into what's certainly an exposed nerve or something.

"Fuck," Ed grinds out when Stede finally pulls away, flopping breathlessly back into the chair. "Fuck." Always worse when it's not a fresh wound for some reason. When you disturb it and open it back up to pour fucking fire over it. "Fuckity fuck."

Stede pats his shoulder. "I know, I know, but that was the worst of it. Just gonna wrap it up nice and snug and you'll be good as new."

Good as new, yeah.

Stede keeps up a steady, quiet chatter while he bandages Ed's arm. Ed pants through the aftershock of the sharp alcohol burn and fails to take in a single word Stede's saying.

It takes Stede patting his hand and leaning almost into his face to make Ed zone back in. "Huh?"

Stede smiles a tight little smile. "I'm very sorry to keep bothering you, but we need to get you out of this shirt so I can check on your ribs. I don't like that you were having trouble breathing."

"Wasn't trouble," Ed mutters. The jacket was bad enough, he doesn't really feel like peeling out of the shirt. "Just achy."

"That counts as trouble, Edward. Breathing should not hurt." Stede sighs. Softens his voice again. "Please. I just want to make sure you'll be okay. You almost died last night." His eyes are so fucking pleading again, and Ed doesn't have any defenses against them. Stede looks distraught at the thought of Ed almost dying.

Ed probably should feel some way about almost dying too, but he is too tired to feel much of anything anymore. But he can't stand Stede's looking like this, so. "'kay, fine."

He shuffles forward a bit in the chair. Tries to pick himself up enough to sit up straight. Puzzles over how to get the shirt off with the least amount of pain. He'd thought about Stede and shirts off, in a much more fun context, and then he'd tried very hard not to think about it ever again, and now he doesn't even know if his head can still think. Doesn't much feel like it.

"Can you lift your arms, hm?" Stede has to nudge Ed to make him figure out how to lift his own arms. They are very heavy, and he feels likes he's underwater again, everything's dull and weighted down and blurry. "Alright, hold that, just a moment." Stede's hands fuss with the hem of Ed's shirt. It's some work to tug it off, it's sticky with sweat and stiff with saltwater and it doesn't want to come off, but finally it's up over his head. Stede's hands are gentle, carefully freeing Ed's hair from the shirt's grip. The curls tickle as they fall across Ed's bare shoulders at about the same time Ed's arms fall back down and Ed's head slumps against Stede's - chest? Arm? He isn't sure, just that it's steady and warm and he doesn't remember why he was ever mad at Stede.

Careful fingers brush his hair back so it's more down his back and less in his face. It's nice. "That's better, isn't it? You hate a sweaty shirt."

It's true. Ed does hate a sweaty shirt. All gross and sticky.

One of Stede's warm hands settles on Ed's left shoulder. "You complained extensively about it after the treasure hunt. I remember that." The "fondly" isn't said, but there in the tone.

"Hmm," Ed confirms. His eyes are closed. He doesn't remember closing them. Stede too smells a bit sweaty, where Ed's nose is buried into his shirt. It's not terrible.

"Come on, let's take a look at your poor ribs, yes?" The hand on Ed's shoulder isn't pushing him away, just gently guiding him back to a somewhat upright sit, then it pulls away as Stede steps back a bit.

Ed blinks hazily. He misses the warmth.

"Goodness, Ed!" Stede lets out a yelp at the sight of Ed's torso, startling Ed out of his daze. "That looks terrible! No wonder you're in pain!"

Ed squints down at himself. His entire ribcage and good bit down his stomach is a rainbow of bruises, some darker than his older tattoos. Oh. Well. Ouch.

Stede is still staring at him with something like horror. "Do you think anything is broken? Your ribs look very..." He seems to cast about for a suitable word, before giving up and settling on "bad."

"Nah, that'd be much worse," Ed mutters, running a careful finger along the bottom arc of his ribs, ghosting over a bruise so deeply purple it's almost black in the candle light.

"Worse?!" Stede sounds sick at the thought.

Ed shrugs. He would know. He's had broken ribs. Is glad to not have them now. "S fine, mate. Just bruises." They hurt like a bitch, but Ed is going to live.

Huh. He's going to live. For the first time in a very long while, the thought feels like a promise rather than a curse.

"Should we wrap them?" Stede looks desperate to do something. Nobody's ever been desperate to fix something that hurts Ed.

"Won't do anything." Ed drops back into the chair, the brief flight of energy he'd found to spare for the state of his ribs depleted. He feels woozy. His head throbs. He closes his eyes.

Stede tsks, but doesn't protest. Instead, he putters about for a bit. Ed listens distantly to the rustle of fabric and the clang of utensils. Loses track of time and space until Stede nudges his arm. "Ed."

He drags his eyes open with difficulty. "Wha?" He's missing his boots. The realisation comes with looking down his legs and finding his feet bare and his boots sitting neatly to the side. How'd they get off his feet?

"Ed?"

"I have feet," Ed blurts, still looking at them.

Stede snorts. "You do, yes, very good observation." He softens. "You're passing out on me sitting up. Let's get you to bed, hmm?"

Bed. Bed sounds nice. Ed hasn't slept in the bed in weeks. Fuck, Ed hasn't properly slept in... a long time. The bed is also all the way across the cabin, and Ed isn't wearing boots. "S very far," he says, squinting dizzyily across the room. "Was it always this far?"

Stede sighs. "Come here, you tired mess, you." He hauls Ed to his bootless feet. Ducks back under his shoulder. "There we go."

Ed stumbles. He can't feel his feet. His head feels too hot. His body feels too cold. Everything hurts.

The room spins. The world goes dark at the edges. He's drifting, floating, through murky water, and then he's tipping backwards, he's falling, falling and sinking - He panics, flings out a desperate hand to catch himself and - A warm hand catches his, in a firm grip. Ed holds on tight - he's going to fall! - and the hand holds him back just as tight. Ed clings to it, like a tether, like an anchor.

There's a voice through the mist. "... fine, it's fine, you're alright, you're safe." Stede. Calm and soft and gentle. A memory floats up through Ed's hazy mind, a sense of déjà-vu. Of falling and sinking and a hand holding his tight as he surfaces. The anchoring grip tightens in a squeeze around his fingers. "It's okay, you're okay now. Shh. Relax."

Ed listens to Stede's voice for a moment. The dark whirlpool that had sucked him in fades away, and he realises he isn't falling anymore. He is lying down, flat on his back, on a cloud.

He struggles to open his eyes. The room swims. Stede is leaning over him, hair gilded with candle light. "There you are," he says softly, smiling as Ed meets his eyes. "I think you got lost for a minute there."

"Falling," Ed mumbles.

Stede shakes his head. "Not falling. I wouldn't let you fall. Just lying down, see? Nowhere to fall here." His free hand pats the mattress somewhere to Ed's left.

Huh. Ed blinks. The mist isn't clearing much anymore. "Stede? I think I'm tired."

Stede laughs, a disbelieving, soft thing. "Yes, you certainly are." The anchor gives Ed's hand another squeeze. "If I can have my hand back, we can get you more comfortable, how's that sound?"

Ed is plenty comfortable as is, but it's getting exhausting to hold on so tightly. There's a cramp in his fingers that steadily creeps up his forearm. Still takes quite some effort to make himself let go.

Stede's hand gives his a parting squeeze, nice and firm and reassuring, and then a gentle pat to his arm as it sinks into the mattress. Ed misses the touch immediately, but it's only a moment until Stede's warm, steady hand slips under his neck. Ed is lifted, there's a soft rustle, then his head sinks into what has to be the softest pillow known to man. It's then that the overwhelming relief of being finally horizontal and not having to hold himself up fully sinks in, drawing a sigh from somewhere deep in Ed's bones that makes him sink another fathom or two into the fluffy embrace of this cloud mattress. And that's when another pillow slides under his bad knee and suddenly that pressure is gone too and the rest of Ed's air leaves him all at once.

"See, that's better," Stede says. His hair looks like a golden halo, floating somewhere above Ed. Like the golden glow of a merman suspended in an underwater sunbeam. Pretty.

"Hmm." Ed's eyes flutter closed. A soft, warm weight is pulled over him. Blanket, he realises distantly. It's warm. It feels like a hug. Stede's hands tuck it around him, pull it up to his chin. I love your chin, naked or otherwise.

"There you are," Stede says, in that same tone of voice.

Nobody has tucked Ed in since -

"Now you just rest," Stede's gentle voice continues. "I still need to clean and check on those cuts on your head again, but you can just sleep now."

"Hmm." Sleep sounds good. Ed thinks he might already be asleep and this is all a dream. He's warm. He's drifting. There's a hand in his hair, brushing it back from his face.

"Hush. I've got you." Something cool touches his brow, drifts down to the throbbing ache on his cheek near his temple. The fingers comb back his hair again. It's very nice. "Go to sleep," Stede's voice says, from somewhere far above the waves.

Ed drifts. He's warm. The fingers are back in his hair, smoothing it back.

Ed sleeps.