Chapter Text
Ed is fucking thrilled that Jack came by for a visit, he hasn’t seen the bastard in years and he hadn’t been all too sure that he was still kicking. He hasn’t heard anything about his death or capture but that didn’t always mean anything in this line of work. Governments bragged about the pirates they put to death, but the ocean and storms didn’t, and they claimed just as many lives.
Of course it sucks for Jack that he got mutinied on again, but it happens to him pretty often. Often enough that even Blackbeard the king of fuckeries can’t fake surprise at the news, he manages a sympathetic pat on the back before he’s trying to change the subject.
Because Jack doesn’t need sympathy anyway, what he needs is to take his mind off it and have some fun before he has to put in the work to find a new crew. It must be getting harder each time, sure there is always young blood that you can pick up at any port, stupid kids wanting to go out and find their fortune at sea. But you can’t run a ship with only greenhorns, and the experienced sailors that haven’t heard of Jack's lackluster leadership are becoming few and far between.
Jack has his work cut out for him, but that's later, for now they're gonna have some fun and If there's one thing Jack knows its how to have fun. He always has the best fucking ideas when it comes to shit to do, coconut fights, blowing shit up, whippies, today has been one fan-fucking-tastic day.
Its even a good pirate lesson for Stede, this is what all the violence and stealing is all for, sure there are some sadistic shits like Low, but for most, what would be the point if you can’t get drunk and fuck around with the crew after the raiding's done.
speaking of fucking around, they are most of the way to Izzy’s cabin. This is the best idea out of all the best ideas Jack has had all day. Ed feels stupid for not thinking of it sooner.
Iz must have been right, Stede was a bigger distraction than he first thought, while he was sure that he and Stede had something growing, it was no excuse for neglecting Izzy.
It was a shame that things pittered out between them when his head was fucked but it wasn’t that surprising. He couldn’t gather the effort it took to do anything whether it be fun or the running of the ship and Izzy in turn had to pick up the slack. But now, now that the fog in his head has lifted and he can see the stars again, he should have been making Izzy see stars too.
He wasn’t worried that Stede wouldn’t go for it, despite the fact he could get a little puritanical, he was a pirate captain, and Izzy was catnip to pirate captains. Spanish Jackie has been offering him a husband spot since her harem was in the low single digits, and while he pretended not to notice he wasn’t actually blind to the fact that most of Jack's visits included a threesome.
There also the fact that you could cut the tension between the two with a cutlass, a bit more antagonistic than the tension that was between him and Stede, but tension none the less
Ed had high hopes that he would be going to sleep tonight in a bed overly stuffed with both feathers and buff men. something that could become a regular thing if his luck holds.
Safe to say he was thrumming in anticipation when he threw open the door to Izzy's room
And Izzy wasn’t there, It shouldn't have been as disappointing as it was. Just because it was Izzy's room doesn’t mean it always contained an Izzy, like a bedroom always contained a bed. He had gotten himself pretty wound up, but now he, Stede and Jack were standing in the hall like a bunch of idiots. Only him and Stede were able to see into the room due to the cramped size of the hall.
But there wasn't just no Izzy in the room, sitting on the bed was a packed bag. The question on the next place to look for Izzy bouncing around in his head was interrupted by the realization of what a packed bag means. The realization felt like going over the side of the ship and hitting the cold water, it sobered him in a second, but as soon as the blurry haze of drunkenness was gone a new haze of anger replaced it.
A packed fucking bag, Where in fucks name did Izzy think he was going. Better yet who told him he could leave. Last he checked he was still the fucking captain, in control of the ship including the crew and most definitely his first fucking mate.
The feeling of Jack trying to squeeze his way past Stede gave him what felt like a pretty fucking likely answer to where his first mate might go and who gave him the fucking idea in the first place, Jack was always full of good ideas.
It was with false lightness that Blackbeard called over to Jack “Hey Calico hows gathering crew going. You planning on poaching this time round?”
“Yeah of course, can’t get any sailors worth a damn any other way, What do you wanna talk about that boring shit for tho, thought we were looking for sweetcheeks?
By the end of his sentence Jack had managed to wedge himself past Stede far enough to see into the room, and more importantly close enough that when he turned from the sight of the neatly packed bags he could see Blackbeard's thunderous expression.
Now Jack is a smart man, well not smart, but quick on the uptake. It never stopped him from getting himself into trouble but once he’s there, escaping is his specialty.
Right now Jack can tell, He's in some shit. So he goes full force in digging himself out
“Common man you know I'd never try and poach Izzy, i mean I'd be lucky to have him but I'd never thought he would want to leave you” that spurred Blackbeard into motion hauling Jack against the wall “ ok, bad wording, I'm sure he doesn’t want to leave you, but it wouldn't hurt to give him another reason to stay? could help with that, I bet between the two of us and your new boy toy we could get him to forget all about leaving.“
Fuck Izzy was leaving him, why the fuck was Izzy leaving him, Izzy doesn’t leave he’s Izzy he’s always there.
“Ok you want to do the convincing on your own how’s about I get going then, leave you too it. I’ll take my dinghy and I'm gone, we’ll catch up next time we’re both in the republic. I know you always want to buy a drink for the guy who saved your life”
Jack's rambling isn’t making him any calmer, but it is hitting the right buttons, this is his old friend, who saved his life. He doesn’t want him dead, but he does want him gone, quickly, yesterday if possible.
So Blackbeard doesn’t let go of the bastard but he does stop pinning him to the wall, in favor of dragging him up on deck and onto the same dinghy he arrived in.
Jack being quick on the uptake, he’s all to happy to cut his losses and get the fuck out of there. he can’t get his dick wet if he doesn’t even have his dick in the first place and he’s sober enough to realize that and get to rowing.
Kicking Jack off the ship felt good, one less person trying to steal his first mate but the main thief is still here. The problem was he can’t get rid of the bastard because it's Izzy that wants to take Izzy, steal Izzy away. This is gonna be a hell of a pirate lesson for Stede because even he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s gonna do
There’s one thing for fucking sure Izzy's not going anywhere.
~ ~ ~
Izzy's first thought as he wakes is fuck laudanum, he hates laudanum
He hasn't had it many times, he can take his pain well, but he’s had a stabbing or two that required stitches to heal properly and the doc back on the Anne prefers to work with his patients under and not thrashing about as much.
he had opened his eyes just to close them again as the light was too fucking bright and his head had too much fucking fuzz around the edges for this to be an alcohol hangover, where the hell was he stabbed his time?
When his memory fails him he tries moving each part of his body in sequence. Just a little, the pain will cut through the laudanum far before he pops any stitches, He thinks it will anyway.
He rolls his shoulders, then tenses his arms. It’s neither of those so he sluggishly uses them to press gently around his chest and his abdomen, the brief action feeling like a herculean effort. Not finding the wound he moves on to shifting each of his legs a bit.
No pain radiates from the movement but he does hear a soft clink.
Not finding any wounds should be a relief but with his head swirling it just adds to his confusion. He needs to open his eyes again, figure out where he is and what's happening, but knowing the light is going to send a stab into his head just like the first time, it’s not an attractive prospect.
When he does muster the effort he sees fabric, not bolts of it. Like might be in a cargo hold requisitioned as a makeshift sick bay but colorful suitcoats and trousers hung neatly on racks.
The sight is unfamiliar and his drug-addled brain is losing the battle to stay awake, Let alone figure out what's happening. But he knows that frilly fucking outfits mean frilly fucking Stede Bonnet.
The fight keeping him awake leaves at the realization, he’s as safe as he can be under the circumstances, and that's enough to let unconsciousness take him again.