#; isrighthand / izzy & ed / 004

[smokedanced]

isrighthand.​

Something’s wrong, Izzy thinks, and isn’t that a fucking laugh? As if anything has been right for whatever amount of fucking time. It’s all fucked, but he’s watching Edward carefully, and the look on his face and the sound of his voice. He’s been here long enough to know when there are things happening that he can’t see, things crumbling inside him that don’t make it past the facade.

He stays where he is. Keeps his mouth shut. He’s been Edward’s anchor for years, immovable, unbreakable - that’s why Edward keeps him around. If Edward is losing his fucking mind right now, then he won’t. Simple as that.

And to his credit, he tries.

Edward’s word’s don’t make sense at first. You think I’m Blackbeard - He is Blackbeard. Except Edward is talking like he isn’t. Maybe Izzy doesn’t quite understand that part, even if he wants to.

It’s not until Edward gets to best friend that Israel feels the waters begin to rise, tumultuous waves that get higher and high with each beat, fast enough that he knows he can’t escape them, fast enough that panic is bubbling up within him. Best friend. Kill Edward. I miss you.

Anger is not a weapon but a shield. Maybe it cuts, but Israel uses it for defense. He can feel the phantom sensation of a pommel in his hand, asking, begging, him to pick it up and use it, to cut down the threads of emotion that want to break his skin and swallow him whole.

Israel flexes his fingers, too caught up in his thoughts to realize that he looks, of all things, quite lost.

“ I - ”   His gaze falls down to the ground. Unfamiliar territory. He fucking hates unfamiliar territory. He feels like he’s drowning, now - everything around him could be his death, from the man in front of him to each word he lets loose from his lips. Maybe, at this point, it’s just time to … let go.

“ I’m sorry. ”   He doesn’t know the last time he’s said those words.    " Fuck. “

Face tilted forward abruptly to pinch at his brow for a moment before he lets his hand slip away. He could shy away from meeting his captain’s eye. Doesn’t.

” I’m sorry, Edward. I didn’t mean to make you feel … don’t fucking kill yourself. “   It sounds angry, scolding, because it’s easier than sounding scared.   ” And I’m sorry for what I said before, about - you bein’ better off dead. I didn’t fuckin’ mean it, you know that. I lose my head when I’m angry … shit. “   He doesn’t know how to do these fucking apologies. Maybe that was fine. He wouldn’t know where to start correcting, anyway. He’s a mess. There’s a wardrobe behind him - he sags back against it, crossing his arms, and is silent for a few moments, brow furrowed, sorting out his thoughts.

” I’m not going to pretend I understand exactly what you’re trying to say here. About being Blackbeard and all that. But whatever you want, mate … you’ve got it. We’ll figure it out. “   His undying loyalty, handed over again, in a subtle sort of way. Whatever we need to do, he vows, I’ll get it done. It’s what he’s always done. For his - best friend. Fucking best friend?

His boot - the one with five toes in it - shifts forward to knock against Edward’s own. His best friend is crying. He hates it.

” Stop … fucking crying, “   Izzy scolds, uncomfortable, kicking Edward’s boot more incessantly, like poking a feral animal with a stick to try and get it off the porch.   ” Keep talking. Explain this shit. “

Ed doesn’t realise he’s holding his breath until Izzy goes I’m sorry, and a deep exhale is released from his lungs, his body almost slumping from its tension.  Izzy’s not leaving.  At least not right this moment, not telling Edward he’s pathetic, wrong, not walking away from him. And it’s such a relief he  cries harder,  soundlessly, just what feels like the fucking sea pouring out of his eyes.

Izzy looks... really fucking lost. Insecure, almost. Making Ed want to reach out, pull him close, fucking cling onto the man, tangled together. But he doesn’t, because they... they do need to talk. Never been good at that. Talking, genuinely.

God, he feels vulnerable.

❝ Didn’t mean it like, ❞    Ed interrupts at don’t fucking kill yourself, even though he’s sure Izzy understands,    ❝ like that. ❞    He just needs to say that. He feels like he needs to suffocate Edward until only Blackbeard is left. Doesn’t want Izzy thinking he in any way was being literal about it. Though truth be told, he didn’t much care if he lived or died when he was... well, Blackbeard, recently. ‘Course that never really even was Blackbeard, either, just... No, he’d rather not go back there.

And he knows. Knows Izzy says things he doesn’t mean when he’s that angry. He doesn’t need a detailed apology. But... it has been hard, to know what Izzy really does mean and what’s just his anger speaking. He knows now Izzy never truly wanted him dead, but back then... several things were said that just stung a little too much. I work for Blackbeard. Edward better watch his fucking step.

Ed’s nose starts to get stuffy as Izzy talks on. Izzy’s basically telling him he’s not going to leave, and Ed could fucking kiss the man for that alone.  He, desperately, just needs to not be abandoned.

❝ Sorry, mate, ‘s just, ❞    he sniffs at Izzy telling him to stop crying,    ❝ comin’ out. I’m. OK, just... ❞    But the thing is, it doesn’t feel unkind, the way Izzy says it, the way he kicks at Ed’s boot. It feels like care. Like Izzy wants him to stop crying because he wants him to stop hurting. Ed sniffs hard and wipes at his face with rough hands.

He nudges Izzy’s boot with his own... and starts crying again.

❝ I’m sorry, ❞    he says, now having to look away from Izzy in shame.    ❝ Your toe. I never... properly said...  I’m sorry.  That was  ⸺  that was really fucked up, Iz, I shouldn’t have... That wasn’t good captaining. ❞    Discipline of one’s crew is one thing, but Izzy’s not just crew, and never has been. Even if he were, you don’t do shit like that to your own crew.    ❝ That was really fucking bad, I... That I hurt you like that, it... Never. I’ll never do anything like that again, I swear. Don’t care how angry I get, I can’t just... I’m sorry. ❞

[smokedanced]

isrighthand.​

𝐄𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃   //   @smokedanced​

❝  you’re looking at me but you’re not seeing me.  do you know how that feels?  just see me.  please.  ❞

“ I’m fuckin’ trying to, Edward! ”   He feels like whatever grasp he’d had on his captain has turned to sand. He knows he doesn’t fucking understand, and it hurts. The man he’s been loyal to all this time, the man he’d memorized and built himself around isn’t there anymore. And he’s supposed to somehow save himself and Edward too. It’s feels as if they’re both sinking.

“ It’s not as if you’re making it all that fuckin’ easy! Haven’t even fuckin’ considered that maybe I want to been seen too, have you? You’re always askin’ everything of me, but what the fuck do you do? You’re too fucking selfish to get out of your own fuckin’ head! ”

In all truth, he barely even knows what he’s saying. The feeling of betrayal and hurt is rising inside him fast. Anger has always been a way out, a way to stay on top of it all, a way to escape it’s clutches. He cannot feel helpless. He can’t give up. He can’t fail. Whatever has to be done, he has to find a way to get himself out of this, and to drag his captain out too. By whatever means necessary.

He takes a deep breath, a slow, inhale with a shaking fist held aloft as if he’s grabbed his rage by the throat and is holding it, waiting for it to simmer down, though the touch of it burns.

“ Tell me. Please. ”   It’s barely concealed begging. If there is some hint or clue or helping hand Edward can offer, he’ll take it.   “ What do you want? ”   Anything, he thinks, I’ll give you anything.  " Edward - “

There’s pain written on Edward’s face. Concealed, but Izzy is familiar with that sort of thing. Bonnet is all he wants, these days. Is that what Edward wants him to be? Or does he just not want Izzy at all anymore?

” Fuck. “   It’s a harsh sigh. Some of Izzy’s temper dwindles in the face of the cold feeling that expression brings. He doesn’t know what to do with that. He raises a hand to rub at the back of his head. He doesn’t know how to be Bonnet. Doesn’t know how to care like that.   ” Mate, I spent twenty fuckin’ years learning everythin’ about you. To the last fuckin’ detail. If I have to do it again, I can. You know I will. “

Edward lowers his head in shame, actually recoiling a little. He is selfish, isn’t he? He does ask too much of Izzy. Doesn’t even bother explaining himself, most of the time. When did they become this? It wasn’t always this way. But it’s been this way for... for too long, now. Long enough that it’s almost as if  neither of them know each other anymore.

It hurts so much.

What does he want? To feel alive, to not be Blackbeard, but that’s just surface level shit. What does he want? And can he  trust  Izzy to even begin to have this conversation?

It hurts, too, how raw Izzy sounds. Fuck, Ed hasn’t heard his first mate speak this earnestly in... again, too long. And Ed’s opened this thing, now. He wants to pretend to shrug it off, wants desperately to run away from it, but that’d be him doing the selfish thing, again. That’s a part of the problem. How could Izzy see him if he doesn’t fucking let him?

Ed meets Izzy’s gaze, fierce. To anyone else, he’d probably look angry, his face twisted, but maybe Izzy still knows him well enough to see through to the sheer pain.    ❝ I want, ❞      he says, his voice small and scared, not matching the look on his face in the slightest.      ❝ I want... I... ❞    He makes a motion to reach towards Izzy, but lets his arm fall back to his side, too afraid of rejection. He sits down onto Izzy’s bed, runs a hand over his face, thinks for a moment, then looks up at Izzy.

❝ You did know me. We... But Iz, it feels like, gradually, maybe ever since I really became Blackbeard... he’s what you think I am, y’know? You’ve spent all this time learning everything about him, not... not the rest of me. ❞    He’s  terrified  of Izzy dismissing him or lashing at him with more painful words now that he’s truly baring himself in front of him, but he goes on nevertheless.    ❝ Feels like the only way I can ever be good enough for you is if I’m Blackbeard. Could it just  ⸺  could it just fuckin’ be enough if  ⸺  I just want to be Edward. ❞    His voice breaks but he keeps gazing at Izzy. His expression has slowly softened, brow knit.    ❝ And I’m  ⸺  I’m sorry if I  ⸺  I know I ask a lot of you, and I shouldn’t... treat you like you’re just my first mate, and not, you know, my...  best friend,  but... Just feels like I’m fucking suffocating, feels like I need to kill Edward in order to be what everyone expects me to be, what you expect me to be, and... ❞

He’s crying, and he doesn’t try to hide it, it’s too late for that.    ❝ I do want to see you, too. I just  ⸺  I just want to be me,  around you. And  ⸺  and I want you to be you. I just want us to be us, you know?  I miss you. ❞    Please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave, please don’t leave...