He'd thought getting back into his routine would help ease the ache in his heart. And to be fair, it did help to have a part to play, to know what was expected and who to be. But the bother with playing a part was that it only worked when there was someone to play for.

At night, huddled in a corner of the empty captain's quarters aboard the Revenge, Blackbeard faded away.

And all that was left was Edward.

Broken, heart-sick, lonely Edward.

Blackbeard didn't cry, didn't feel anything but rage. But Edward? Well Edward felt everything.

For weeks he'd avoided Stede's bed. Sleeping instead on the floor, or the chaise, or one of the chairs. But now he stared at it. Soft and luxurious, with cotton sheets that probably still smelled of the man he'd lost.

For weeks he'd avoided it - but tonight, tonight Edward was weak. He longed for Stede, for the happiness they'd had. For the comfort he'd found in coming to know and love Stede Bonnet. So tonight he gave in, stripping down to underthings before lifting the heavy blanket and sliding onto the mattress.

The scent of sea salt and lavender - and that something that was Stede - surrounded him. Tears sprang to his eyes as Ed burrowed his face into the pillow and breathed deeply. The bedding muffled his sobs, gave way as his fists clenched the sheets, and wrapped around him.

Yes, up on deck he could pretend he was Blackbeard, but here he was just broken-hearted Edward, missing his friend. His love.

When he woke in the morning, he noticed he'd marred the white bedlinen with his makeshift beard and kohl blacked eyes. I make everything I touch worse, he thought, rubbing the sleep from those same eyes. His fingers came down to brush the stubble of his chin. It was growing in nicely, but it would be months before it was anywhere near its former glory.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure how many more days he could get up and continue this farce. Wake up and be the bloodthirsty killer pirate everyone thought he was. But he would, as ever, keep trying. Keep picking fights until he lost one. After all, being Blackbeard was simple and being Edward was complicated.

Ed got up from bed, stretching and looking about for the clothing he'd dropped unceremoniously the night before. The room felt empty without all the books and trinkets. But mostly it felt empty because it was. This absurd room had been Steede's vision, and with him gone it was just a shell.

He thumped the ache in his chest with a balled fist and grabbed his leather trousers. Ed put on his ensemble - the costume he donned each day - black leather, knife and gun, shit kicking boots. He still felt in his pocket for the scrap of red silk he'd carried all these years, but of course that was gone now. Given to the sea in an attempt to accept who he had always been meant to be. An attempt to let go of Stede.

Edward shifted his shoulders, straightened his spine, and stepped out onto the deck.

Captain Blackbeard, until the sun went down again.

Stede paced the rough planks of the barn loft. His former crew watching intently to see what he came up with this time. He snapped his fingers. "I've got it! We will simply go… go…."

To be honest, he hadn't a clue what to do now.

After he found his stranded crew on that sandbar, they'd managed to make it back to the mainland, and to Mary. He'd rowed his way to there, after all, and with the few trees cut down to extend the boat, it hadn't been too difficult to get everyone back again.

Graciously, his widow had agreed to let them stay in the barn - he was, after all, supposed to be dead (again) and it wouldn't do for him to be seen - at a loss, for the last couple of weeks as to what move they might make next.

"You're sure," he asked for the hundredth time. "That Edward left you there?"

"Well no," Black Pete admitted. "It was just Izzy. I suppose he could have mutinied Blackbeard and…"

"That seems unlikely," Stede admitted. "But I don't believe Edward would just abandon you all."

"To be fair," Wee John piped up. "He was kind of gettin' rid of everythin' that reminded him of you."

Yes, they'd told him all about that. The books thrown over and trinkets smashed. "Well, there's nothing for it," Stede said at last. "I will simply have to find Ed and explain."

"Explain that you abandoned him to go back to the life you hated?" Oluwande asked. "I doubt that will help, Captain."

"No!" Stede worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Well, yes, I suppose that is what happened. But it was complicated! And I came back!"

There was a collective groan from the crew.

"Stede!" Mary called up. "Stede, can you come down for a moment please?"

Sighing, Stede made his way down the rough rungs of the loft ladder. He brushed his hands off and turned to meet his widow. "Hello Mary," he said warmly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Mary smiled widely and handed him a large sheaf of papers. "What's this?" he asked, unfolding the documents.

"Now I know you said you didn't want a cent of it," Mary said. "But given everything that has happened, I just thought…"

In his hands, Stede held the deed to a ship, a ledger of goods, and several documents outlining his new identity. "Mary this must have cost a fortune, I can't accept this." He held the papers out to her, but she pushed them back toward his chest.

"It's a small fraction of what you left us," she said firmly. "And I want you to be happy. As happy as I am, if that's possible." She smiled, her skin flushing from nose to neck. "Money helps with that."

Stede nodded his agreement. "Though it is hardly sufficient on his own," he sighed. What a hard won revelation that had been. It was true, however, that without funds or a ship, there was little chance of catching up with Edward and the Revenge. Even if he could, miraculously, figure out what to do when he saw him again. "Thank you for this, Mary." Stede reached out, grasping her hand in his and squeezing. "Sincerely."

She smiled in turn. "You're welcome, Stede."

As she turned to leave, Stede touched her shoulder gently, halting her. "Might I ask for one further indulgence?"

An hour later he'd poured his heart into a letter, sealed it, and tasked Buttons with finding a way to get it into Ed's hands. If anyone could, it was that strange and lovely man. "Aye Cap'n," he'd said with a salute. "Give me ah day and it'll be on it's way to yer fella."

That last bit made his heart ache, but there was work to do. A crew to get aboard, a ship to prepare, and rumors to chase. Captain Steve Higgenbottom (Christ, Mary, really?) had an infamous pirate to catch.