Work Text:
“I’ll do it.”
“Wha- what no?! Izzy-”
“Fuck off, Bonnet.” Izzy’s voice was low, gravelly and perhaps any other time before the past few months Stede might have bristled, ready to bite back at the man. But now, he could hear the underlain fondness- the slight upwards curve of his lips hidden by his beard. After they were done, Stede thought he’d ask Izzy if he could maybe give him a slight trim. Stede glanced at the wriggling bastard Spanish Jackie was tying up- when this was all done.
“Fine.” Stede inhaled, watching everyone’s reaction to gauge any further objections to the plan. Through the sheer adrenaline pumping through his veins, fingers gripping the table top as they suited up, checking their weapons- there might’ve been a lingering sense of fear. It was a suicide mission. That they knew, and that they were prepared for.
Stede looked at everyone, watching them pull the blue uniforms off the British. They would all survive- they had to. “Ready?”
Everyone nodded, feral grins splitting across their faces. They were getting the fuck out of here. Stede caught Izzy’s gaze on him, smiling at the tiny nod he received. “Let’s go.”
The gunshot was what spurred them into action.
It was loud, and through the greenery of the trees, the flash of blue, the weight of the gun in his hand, the rush of wind, the sand, the waves, the ships in the distance- through it all, Stede heard a gentle whisper where time seemed to stop with a gravelly bang- Captain Bonnet . The echoes were whisked away as the sound of yells swelled and crashed over him.
His ears were ringing, lips stretched to a grin- they did it. They escaped .
And then there was silence. Stede couldn’t breathe, hands unable to twitch, feet rooted to the swaying floor. He wanted to scream at Izzy- it couldn’t happen like this. He had failed. Failure.
Until Izzy smiled at them, eyes shining and bright as he gasped for breath and in that space Stede understood- this was the life of Israel Hands, the greatest swordsman of the sea.
He had lived and died a pirate- he was the essence of piracy. To live and to die with his crew, for his crew…Stede wanted to reject it. It was unfair- there was so much more for them to do, for them to learn about each other. Stede never learned about Izzy’s past- he was always just there and as Stede saw his lips twitch in that fond smile after he’d called them ‘twats’- Stede wished for a singular, final moment with him. But, in the pain clenching his heart, nails presenting the flesh of his palms, Stede couldn’t deny that Izzy was one hell of a pirate. He was and would always be who Stede wished he could be. Izzy was and would always be the reason they'd made it this far. His crew- and they would stay alive for him.
They refused to disappoint the faith and pride Izzy had in them.
The unanswered question hung in the air- where would be Izzy’s final resting place…
Everyone looked to Ed.
“You’re the first customer to Blackbeard’s Bar and Grill and Other Delicacies and Delights and Fishing Equipment, Iz,” Edward managed to choke out, gripping his oldest and dearest friend close. “Welcome.”
It was quiet, as if the seas and the Earth itself was mourning.