#🍊 ↝ Stede Bonnet ↝ ic ↝ answered

[petrifiedcrange]

@indestructiblelittlefckr asked: “Stop fussin' over me, twat! I’m not a fuckin' baby!” (from Izzy to Stede, when he gets slightly better)

Stede wasn't fussing.

Yes, he helped Izzy lift his head so he could drink water and a bit of laudanum when the pain was becoming too much without accidentally choking. He fluffed the pillows and helped Izzy settle in more comfortably, not quite sitting up yet but a bit more elevated, when he got tired of lying down. He must have smoothed the blanket out a dozen times a day, especially after he changed his bandages.

Yes, he did a lot of things that, in hindsight, could look like fussing to the outsider.

But Roach said that Izzy, while he was slowly getting better and there was about a 90% chance that he was going to survive the wound without serious complications, was very fragile still and should be kept as comfortable as possible as well as not allowed to overexert himself.

And Stede remembered all too well watching him bleed out on the deck, the life literally leaving his frame, and there was even a moment when they all thought that he was gone if it wasn't for the barest flicker of heartbeat remaining.

He remembered all too well those first few hours, sitting with Edward while Roach, Jim, Archie, Zheng, her Auntie and surprisingly Spanish Jackie combined their efforts to fight for Izzy's life.

He remembered all too well that first night when the whole crew gathered inside the captain's quarters, all gazes trained on the too shallow movement of Izzy's chest, afraid to fall asleep lest he stop breathing in the middle of the night when they aren't watching.

He remembered all too well the first few days when Izzy was hovering on the edge and him and Edward were practically glued to his side, different crew members constantly popping in under false pretenses and then dropping all pretenses altogether to check on him.

He remembered all too well just how badly Edward and... everyone, really, at least on their crew, were handling Izzy's injury and uncertainty of his survival.

He remembered it all – he doubted he could ever forget it, even when he grows very old and maybe forgets everything else, he'll always remember Edward, Izzy and those few days Izzy hovered between life and death and how hard they hit their little community – and he didn't want Izzy to have a sudden turn for the worse just because he wasn't careful enough so yes, maybe, he was fussing. But it came from a place of deep care and worry.

Stede didn't say any of this though, didn't even try to defend his actions when Izzy snapped at him, his voice still sounding terrible but the intonation, even the swearwords so familiar...

For a moment, Stede just froze, his hands still hovering inches from the blanket from where he unconsciously smoothed it out for the umpteenth time, his eyes wide and expression unreadable.

Then, his lips quivered, his eyes glistened and long overdue sobs rose from his throat, coming on even faster and harder after he clamped his hand over his mouth in vain attempts to stop them,

because this grumpiness, the swearing, everything was much more on brand for the Izzy he knew and grew to be quite fond of... and for days he thought he would never get to hear and see him like that again.