Of course Stede Bonnet had to be a fast healer.
When Izzy Hands had challenged Stede to a duel, he thought it would play out much differently than it had. Someone with his skill didn't expect to lose to someone like Stede. Yet somehow, he had. By Izzy's own words, that meant he was supposed to leave the ship. Part of him wished he had. It was Ed that had stepped in and changed that, though. He'd asked Stede to let Izzy stay, and Stede agreed to it. The crew had complained and argued, but the two captains ignored them.
Once the crew had cleared out, Izzy quickly found himself pinned against a wall by Blackbeard, who had a threatening light in his eyes. "Listen here, you bastard," he'd snarled. "I convinced them to let you stay here because you've been on my crew for a long bloody time. But if you pull that shit again, I'll toss you into the sea myself. Do anything to hurt Stede again, put another toe out of line with me, and you're history. Have I made that clear?"
Izzy had looked away from him and given a quiet, "Yes, Blackbeard." in response. That was the end of that.
He'd considered leaving anyhow. How could he stay on the ship after such a humiliating defeat? But frankly, Izzy didn't know where he'd go if he left Blackbeard's crew. This had been his life for so long, he didn't have anything beyond it. So he remained, keeping his head down and mouth shut while Stede recovered from his injuries.
The least he could have done was stay down for a while.
Before he knew it, Stede was back on his feet and doing what he could around the ship. Blackbeard -Ed - helped him walk, brought him his food, catered to his every need. Somehow, that was the worst part of all of this for Izzy. Watching his captain, who was once one of the most feared pirates to ever sail, ask the likes of Stede Bonnet how many sugars he wanted in his tea made him ill. Izzy did his best to distract himself, but it was difficult. He found himself looking for something, anything, to do. Thankfully, an opportunity presented itself one morning
"Alright everyone," Stede began in his normal, overly happy tone. "I'm in need of a few volunteers to go on land. It seems we've run quite low on a fair amount of supplies. Lucius has written down a list of what we need. He also drew up some pictures of the items for those who cannot read. Anyone up for a little shopping?"
"I'll do it," Izzy said from behind everyone else. The crew had been particularly irritating that morning and he knew he needed to get away before he strangled one of them.
Stede had a brief moment of surprise in his face, but it was gone quickly. "Very good. Anyone el-"
"Alone."
". . . It's a fairly large list," the captain countered. "I don't think one person could carry it all. You should at least have one more person go along."
Izzy bristled, but bit his tongue. Blackbeard was giving him a warning glare from Stede's side. That seemed to be his permanent place these days. "Take Lucius with you," he told him. It was said like a suggestion, but his eyes told him it was an order.
The young scribe seemed a little surprised to be volunteered but didn't seem to have it in him to object. After collecting the necessary coin from Stede, he walked over to Izzy and placed a hand on his hip. "You and me, then," he said, in a less-than-enthused tone. "Here's the list I made. Take a look if you wa— ow!" He drew his hand back quickly as Izzy snatched the list from his hand. "Wonderful, a papercut. Thanks so much for that."
"Keep whining and you'll be missin' another finger." He growled. Folding the paper unequally, he creased it sharply with his glove before tearing it. "Your part," he said sternly, practically shoving the smaller piece into the boy's chest. Taking the bag of coins, he quickly counted out what he would need before tossing the rest to Lucius. "Take a different boat. I'm not riding all the way to shore with you and back. Get what's on your list and nothing more, understood? And don't fuckin' forget anything."
Lucius glanced down at the paper in his other hand. "You took most of the list. You're gonna break your back trying to carry—"
"Shut up." Izzy snarled through his teeth. Without another word, he turned away and headed across the deck.
"Fine, didn't want to go with you anyhow, Iggy," called Lucius.
After grabbing a large bag from one of the supply rooms, Izzy tossed it into a spare dinghy. Lucius was already making his way to shore, with Black Pete joining him in his boat. Useless twats aren't going to get anything done, he thought. Probably take all damn day with it, too. His jaw clenched, Izzy began to lower his own dinghy into the water.
The sun was shining high that day, which meant the market was fairly busy. Izzy walked along with the burlap bag in his hand, trying to navigate through the crowds of people. Though he'd wanted to get away from the crew, he also didn't want to spend more time than was needed in the market. He trudged to each shop and stand, mentally crossing off each thing on his list. When he was about halfway through with it, he began to feel the weight of his bag.
After a few hours or so, the list was completed and his shoulders were aching. By this time, it was the early afternoon, and the market had become even more crowded. With the bag tossed over his shoulder still, Izzy made his way back to where he'd docked the boat. The sun was hot on his face and the noise of the market was only getting louder.
Suddenly, his foot snagged on the ground and he stumbled. The heavy bag threw his balance off even more, and he couldn't stop himself from falling forwards. He hit the ground quickly, losing his grip on the bag. "Shit," he grumbled, holding his side.
Looking up, his eyes grew with horror at the sight of the bag. It had opened up and everything was spilling out of it steadily. "Fuck." Scrambling to his feet, he started to grab anything he could, mumbling a few more expletives as he did. He managed to grab the runaway fruits before they could get kicked around too much by the passersby. Holding the bag open with one hand, he crammed everything he could find back into it. Once he couldn't see anything else, he closed the bag back up and knotted it tighter than a noose on a hangman. Anything that was missing was lost in the sea of people. Frankly, Izzy didn't care at that point.
Heaving the bag up onto his back again, he made his way back to the docks. The boat rocked as he tossed the supplies in it. Once Izzy was in the boat, he untied it from the dock and grabbed the oars. Every stroke made his arms hurt more, but he paid it no mind. This was preferable than having any of the crew along with him. As he got farther out to sea, the boat swayed more in the waves. The sound of the water around him was almost calming. It was quiet, and quiet had become a commodity ever since they'd boarded the Revenge.
Unfortunately, he made it to said ship before he knew it, and any assemblance of peace was gone as soon as he was back on board. Heaving the bag up onto the deck, he pushed back a few strands of hair from his face. He began to drag the supplies across the deck as Fang and Wee Jon tied up the rowboat.
"Well, look what the tide washed up," called a voice overheard. Looking up, he found Lucius and Pete sitting on the upper deck, their feet dangling. "And how was your little shopping spree?" Lucius asked smugly.
He snarled at the pair and pulled the bag harder, trying to get out of sight as quickly as possible. With the weight of the supplies, it was harder to move faster than a snail.
"Izzy, for Pete's sake—no, not you, babe — you're gonna pull something. Let someone give you a hand with—"
"Piss off," Izzy snapped, glaring at him. He quickened his pace before anyone else could say anything. Once he got below deck, he realized that the supply room seemed much farther away than usual, and his shoulders were aching. Grumbling, he turned into his bedroom instead. Propping the bag against the end of his bed, he told himself he'd sort the supplies later and went off to get a drink.
Hours ticked by as the afternoon turned to evening. The sea glistened and sparkled in the setting sunlight. In that time, Izzy had essentially forgotten about the supplies until Roach came up from the galley.
"Izzy!" the cook called. His grubby apron looked even dirtier than usual. "Did you get potatoes? I need them for dinner."
Damn. Without a word, he stopped what he was doing and went to get the bag.
His boots stomped up to his bedroom. The bag was exactly where he'd left it. Fiddling with the knot for a minute, he finally got it open. Reaching in, his hand searched around for anything that felt like potatoes. Come on, where are they? I know I bought them, where are—
His hand shot out of the bag like it had been burned. Something had moved against his finger. Something . . . furry.
Eyes narrowing, he hesitantly reached back inside and moved a few things around: apples, oranges, a few candles. . . ."What the fuck?" Izzy stared into the bag in shock. More specifically, at the eyes that were looking back at him. Completely confused at this point, he shuffled the supplies around until he'd unearthed the creature. The small eyes staring at him were attached to a ball of fur.
How the hell'd a cat get in here? Izzy wondered. Questions quickly turned to concern, however. Shit! It's probably got fleas!
Using his gloved hand, he seized the kitten by the middle and started to look it over. He was able to hold it in just one hand, it was so small. It squirmed in his grasp, clearly not used to being handled. Though incredibly tiny, fleas on a ship could have deadly consequences. They carried several illnesses and diseases wherever they went, possibly even the plague. As much as Izzy wanted Stede and his crew gone, he would rather not introduce a deadly disease to the ship.
Dirty, white fur covered most of the kitten, making it easy to check. The trickiest part was its front, right paw, which was as black as night. Remarkably, he saw no signs of any fleas on the kitten.
Still holding it in one hand, he reached into the bag and started to check the food he'd gotten, making sure the cat hadn't eaten any of it. Again, by some stroke of luck, none of it has been touched.
With a bit of relief, Izzy turned his attention back to the squirming creature in his grip. Must've run into the bag when I dropped everything. Well, shit, what the hell am I supposed to do with it?
His hand ran through his hair as he began to weigh his options. The simplest and fastest option would be to drop the cat into the water and be done with it. But that wasn't even considered. After all, he was a pirate, not a serial killer.
It needs to get back on land somehow, he pondered. But we've been sailing in open water for some time now. To do that would mean going hours out of our way for this, and that's just a waste of time and supplies. We're not doing that over a stupid cat.
It could be a while before we go on land again, though, he realized. We won't need supplies any time soon now. Shit, how do we get it off the ship?! He glared down at the kitten in his hand, sneering. One thing's for damned sure—it sure as hell isn't staying. 'No pets allowed', Blackbeard's policy. The man who made Fang shoot his own dog would never allow a cat onboard.
Just as he finished that thought, however, it occurred to him that that man no longer seemed to be on the ship. Edward's gone soft thanks to Bonnet. He's changed so much, gone back on so many things. . . shit, he might just let the damn thing stay. Maybe he'd put a bow around its neck, toss it in a box, and give it to Bonnet as a present. The image made him cringe.
No one can know about this, he realized. If anyone in this poor excuse of a pirate crew saw it, they might try to convince the boss to let it stay. He shook his head slightly, making up his mind. I'll not let that happen. I won't watch Blackbeard grow weaker because of this. No one will ever know this thing was here. The next time we need to go on land, I'll toss it into this bag and drop it back where it came from. Until then, it stays in this room.
Without another thought, he got up and walked to the corner of the room. A small sound escaped the kitten as he set it onto the floor, but Izzy ignored it entirely. Grabbing the supply bag at last, he left the room, making sure to shut the door behind him.
"There you are!" Roach exclaimed when Izzy entered the galley. "I was wondering where you went."
Izzy glared at him before stating, "You're on fire."
The cook's eyes grew and a toothy smile covered his face. "Why, thank you."
"No, you're on fire, idiot!" He pointed to the corner on Roach's apron, where a small flame was quickly spreading.
"Wha— aah!" Frantically, he removed the apron before tossing it on the ground. Izzy watched as he stomped on it like he was trying to kick it through the floorboards. When the flame was out for sure, Roach stopped and caught his breath. ". . . Thanks."
Izzy set the potatoes down on the counter before plainly saying, "The fact that you have yet to poison anyone on this ship is nothing short of a miracle."
The potatoes ended up going into some sort of stew, apparently. What else was in it, Izzy had no idea. Being a pirate for as long as he had, he'd learned not to be picky when it came to food. You ate whatever you got and went back to work. About two thirds of the way through his bowl, his mind went back to the cat in his bedroom.
I'll have to sneak food to the damn thing, he realized. For a moment, he considered forgetting his plan. With no plans to dock again soon, was it really worth it? Why not just let the cat out and let the chips fall where they may? After all, no one would know it was him who'd accidentally brought it on board.
Izzy considered this for a minute or so . . . until he saw them. Stede and Ed were sitting close together and talking amongst themselves. He watched as Ed pointed out a smear of food on Stede's face. Quickly, he took a thumb to the man's cheek and gently wiped it away. The light in Ed's eyes could outshine every candle as he did it.
Roach's stew threatened to come straight back up Izzy's throat.
I won't let him grow weaker, he promised. As annoying as it would be to have to keep the kitten under wraps, he would do it. For his captain.
He waited until the night washed over the sky. Everyone was getting ready to sleep, leaving the galley abandoned. Carrying a small lantern, Izzy crept down to it and searched for something to give the cat. He had no idea what one was supposed to feed cats, but he really wasn't putting too much thought to it.
He eventually landed on a spare piece of hardtack and pocketed it before making his way to his bedroom. Opening the door, he stepped in quickly and closed it just as fast behind him. Bringing the lantern lower, he found that the cat was in the same corner he'd put it in. It was curled up and seemed to be asleep. Removing the biscuit from his pocket, he tossed it over in its general direction.
Exhausted from the day, Izzy quickly removed his clothes before getting into bed. Blowing out the lantern, he turned towards the wall and closed his eyes. Any sounds that came from the corner across from him fell on deaf ears.