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Did you know the average temperature of the whole planet is correlated to the number of pirates in the ocean? Surely, if the temperature was hotter when fewer pirates were active in the seven seas, then an acceptable solution would be to add more pirates. Maybe that was the logic behind the Gentleman Pirate’s rise to infamy, or maybe, the more likely answer is that these facts are not actually related at all and the past paragraph has been pointless; much like Izrael Hands’ expert opinion on bedtime stories or the career of the Gentleman Pirate. Utterly. Fucking. Useless.
Maybe he’d be right. After all, Stede was the one clutching desperately at his stomach as if his hand alone could stop it. Stede was the one shambling across the impeccably-kept deck of his former ship now proudly flying the flag of the man who held his heart. Stede was the one who could barely hear anything bar the creaking of wooden planks and blood rushing through his ears at a breakneck pace before inevitably seeping through his fingers just as swiftly. Stede was the one who had nothing more to lose; six months of his life spent on a gambit to save someone who possibly didn't want- or to their own mind, need- saving. He couldn't bring himself to regret a single millisecond. The way he saw it now, this was it. If this was to be the final curtain on his mediocre little life, he believed it fitting to lay his mortality at the feet of the one who had, for however brief, given it meaning.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell Bonnet, you’ve got more lives than a fuckin’ Buddhist cat. Always showing up like a fuckin’ bad penny” he heard Izzy mumble and grouse from the corner. Stede smirked to himself, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His mere presence still boiled the blood of the great Izrael Hands. That was good to know. He forced himself to stand tall despite the pain, unwilling to seem weak to the eyes of either pirate before him. It was a matter of principle.
“Ah Izzy,” Stede coughed, shifting his already sodden red handkerchief with yet another shade deeper before collecting himself. “It is good to see you again. Y’know I thought I heard your limp was getting better, whatever happened?” Stede asked sweetly, momentarily shifting his focus from Edward to fix Izzy with a stare as a flush slowly worked its way across his cheeks. Huh, the Izzy Hands blushing, now he really had seen everything. Where was Lucius when you needed him?
“Nothin’ memorable, Bonnet” Izzy spat in retort causing Stede to giggle sharply. He always did love a good verbal sparring match. He resumed his journey to Edward, one foot in front of the other slowly but surely. Each step he took grew exponentially more excruciating than the last, blinding, radiating but pushing forward regardless with a determination hitherto unseen from him by everyone he had ever known, that he himself hadn’t known he could possess.
The planks groaned beneath Stede’s uneven gait as he ascended the few stairs towards the Kraken, the man looming down upon him with the fearsome glare of a scorned lover, almost growling beneath his breath. Well, Stede thought to himself, he had every right to be, he was after all and it was all Stede’s fault. Chauncey had really been onto something; he had broken the most beautiful thing he had ever known because he was too damn lily-livered to do what needed to be done. He had held something rarer and more delicate than even the candied melon silk moth and crushed it in his bumbling idiocy without realising. Looking into the black depths of the Kraken’s eyes, Stede knew would give his life for this man, to keep him, all of him safe.
Stede met the Kraken’s stare with his own, remaining steady even as he climbed, even if everything within him wanted desperately to look away, to unsee or better yet undo the hurt they held. He searched beyond the self-preserving anger, beyond the Kraken, even Blackbeard, to find Edward, his love still there, steeped in pain of Stede’s own making. Taking Edward’s dagger and plunging it into his heart many times over would likely have hurt less than seeing his Ed, broken and crying and hurt. His emotions had threatened to overwhelm him, to break him down, reduce him to tears and grovel at Edward’s feet. He longed to plead forgiveness to his very last breath and whisper to him all his innermost feelings and fears upon it.
Talk it through as a crew he had preached. Ha. If only he had followed his own advice, maybe then they wouldn't be here. Maybe then, none of this would have happened. No. If this all hadn’t happened then he wouldn’t be fit to be co-captain, hell he was barely fit to swab the deck. He would be unfit and unable to protect Edward. Izzy was probably right about that too, Stede would have gotten Edward killed.
As he climbed the final step, a tear fell, tumbling down his cheek. he steeled his resolve, knowing that whatever may come, Edward would be okay. He would be at peace. They had promised.
Stede felt the ghost of Blackbeard’s dagger dance against his throat, its slight tremble the only evidence of its holder's hesitance, the only clue Edward was there, that he might listen. Stede stood firm. Blackbeard didn’t scare him, the Kraken itself couldn't scare him anymore, not now. Not now he knew Edward was there. They couldn't scare him, nothing could. Not when his worst fear had been realised the day he had read that letter strapped to Livvi’s leg all those months ago. Not when he had gone through so much to get here, to do this properly. No. The only thing that scared him anymore was Ed; That his Ed would be unsafe or hurt. And if what Izzy had told him was true, then what is killing off Stede Bonnet a third time, for Edward’s safety. No more fuckery. No more hiding.
“You made it very clear to me in your letter that I was not welcome on this ship,” Stede started as he threw his alcohol-soaked blood-covered handkerchief into a lantern behind Blackbeard. The flame plumed as the alcohol burned brightly. Stede coughed into his elbow, ruining the powder blue silk before continuing, “So I captured a fleet’s worth.” Suddenly sparks of light began to appear against the dark, calm sea below, almost reflecting the stars above them in the night sky, surrounding the revenge in every direction.
Stede paused for a moment as pain washed through him. His resolve returned as he revelled in Izzy muttering something suspiciously like ‘Fuck me...’ under his breath. If Stede didn’t know any better he would think that he already had the first mate’s attention, and this was only the beginning. Stede dared to dream that just maybe this would actually go well. With each second that passed, more lights appeared as the signal passed through his makeshift armada. He had to hope, at this point, hope was all he had.
“…You made it clear to me that I was unworthy of your attention, so I set the seven seas on fire to prove to myself, and you, that I am.” Sure enough, the signal spread further and further until nearly one hundred flames shone brightly, revealing vessels of different sizes and shapes, from the numerous sloops to fully-equipt (ex-) naval battleships. Stede stood proud in the glow of his creation, his sea of fire he had brought directly to Edward, to show him through his own eyes that this was no longer lily-livered little rich boy Stede Bonnet that stood before him. This was ‘Captain Thomas Edwards’ a pirate with no ties to the land, no guilt or family, no fear. Stede’s fear and guilt had blinded him to what was truly important. He vowed all those months ago that he would never let it never happen again. “Your first mate told me I was better off to you dead, so I killed Stede Bonnet for the second time and became Captain Edwards in your name.”
The Kraken’s impenetrable glare broke. A gasp carried lightly on the wind as Edward’s free hand rose to his mouth as if to catch it. Stede watched as watery eyes flicked to the ocean bathed in its orange glow, heard as Izzy near screamed in incredulity, ‘A fucking flotilla’s worth… surrounding us… on the orders of Stede Fucking Bonnet’. Haha! Game, set and match, Iggy, Stede thought pettily, smirking at the other pirate's audible ire at what he could only expect had been that he hadn’t been the one to do or think of it. in reality, it probably seemed more a wince of pain than a truly malicious countenance but the intention was there. “I've fought the Spanish, the French and the Dutch and brought them all to my mercy, collecting scars, ships and loot among my trophies.” Stede desperately rallied his remaining, rapidly fading reserves of strength to finish what he needed to say. He could trust his crew and his letter with the rest. “I have bested Spanish Jackie and Izrael Hands in combat and I am currently bleeding out apace all over your lovely clean deck.“
Stede felt the ghost of Edward’s blade begin to fall as silent tears began to fall down Edward’s grease-paint-smeared cheeks, as his knees began to buckle. He felt more than he saw Edward’s eyes taking him in wholly, seeing the multitude of scars that had not been there at their last acquaintance, his shirt, tattered beyond repair and his deathly pallor. He heard his fist clench around his dagger and decided that that must have been when Ed noticed the small rivulet of red running in ribbons from Stede’s stomach to the middle of the main deck. Stede lurched forward, his free hand falling to Edward’s shoulder in a concerted effort to remain somewhat upright, to deliver his final point. ”Now that I finally have an audience with you, if you want me dead, you can finish me off yourself. Run me through for all I care because I don't want to live another second if it means I have to see you look at me like that.”
Stede doesn't see the tears fall from Edward’s eyes or notice him physically stiffen and recoil. All Stede saw now was the swimming black spots in his vision growing larger and larger. All he had felt was soft raindrops begin to fall upon his skin as his knees grew weaker and weaker. “You’re just going to stand there? Then let me do it myself” Stede slurred as his blood-soaked hand grabbed the fist Edwardhad wrapped precariously around the dagger and plunged it straight into his own stomach. **
Stede’s hand releases and his knees finally buckle as the knife finds its mark in his liver. Stede had expected his arse to have unceremoniously hit the deck hard and that to have been the end of it. he hadn’t expected to feel wrapped in the arms of his frantic, teary Ed. As he felt his energy drift from him, taking his breath slowly but surely, he allowed himself this moment. In the one perfect moment, he lay surrounded completely by the love of his life. He finally allowed his tears to fall as his senses raced to commit every smell, sight and sensation to memory to take with him. Edward’s grip on his shoulder tightened markedly as if Ed was willing to duel the reaper himself before letting Stede succumb as Stede sang to him a lullaby, as if the past six months hadn’t happened, as if they were safely tucked in their quarters, the ship rocking them both gently to sleep, “ It’ll all be okay…you will be okay. See you in the next life, Ed, my love.” Stede gently ran his hand down Ed's cheek wiping through the tear tracks, smearing the grease paint.
A bloodcurdling roar rang out into the empty air as Stede’s eyes slid closed, happy to finally be back in Edward's arms pulled tightly to his chest. If his life had been the price for this one moment of pure happiness, he consider it happily paid.
Now, he could only hope that Izzy really was right, that he still had one more chance left. He pleaded to whoever would listen, gods of the land and sea to him one more chance before he slipped into his comfortable oblivion.