A/N: Oh my gosh, is it really me, back after all these years? Yup, it's back. I hope you like my new story.

Stede Bonnet opened the bedroom door slowly while raising the lamp, illuminating the room. He was expecting to find Ed perched at the edge of the bed or standing at the window while staring out to the endless night, or thrashing around in the midst of another nightmare. Much to his surprise, not to mention relief, Stede found the other man still asleep, curled up on the side facing the doorway, blankets gathered around his waist, hair fanned across the pillow. Like an angel floated down from heaven and landed on the bed Stede thought absurdly and bit back a chuckle. There was nothing to suggest Ed had woken up in the meantime. Everything was in its proper place; the lamps and books on the bedside tables undisturbed. The blond man stood at the door for a minute, absently scratching at his scraggly beard, listening to Ed's slow, steady breaths.

The pirating life was behind them; still, the sea would always be in Ed's blood and was something he insisted on remaining near. The little place they had been calling home for the past month or so was a short walk from the beach. Izzy's grave and the cross marking it—a somber reminder of the life they had left—remained in the front yard. The back door was shaded by a large orange tree. Neighbors were few and far between, the closest being the widow old Mrs. Cortez and her son with their giant tree bursting with grapefruit and yard swarming with chickens. The small town where they bought food and other supplies was a fifteen minute walk away.

Ed had been able to leave Blackbeard behind with relative ease, slipping out of him like peeling off a well-worn shirt. However, something else had taken up residence in Ed's mind and it wasn't so keen on leaving.

Blue flashes of lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rumbled faintly in a storm that kept its distance. That was fine with Stede. He didn't want anything to disturb Ed's sleep.

The night before had been a bad night, plagued by nightmares, Ed flailing and twisting the blankets before he and Stede were finally able to settle into a few hours of fitful slumber. With the sun just starting to break the night's hold on the sky, Stede awoke to the sight of Ed, shirtless and wearing only his breeches, his nightshirt puddled on the floor at his bare feet, standing at the window, his arms crossed, expression distant and sullen.

"Ed?"

No answer.

"Ed, darling?" Stede repeated, sitting up and swinging his feet to the floor. Silence as the other man was motionless, giving no indication that he'd heard his name. Stede stood up and padded the five steps to the window, then reached out and gently shook Ed's shoulder.

Reacting as if scalded, Ed cried out and spun around, brown eyes the size of platters, the flutter of his pulse racing along his throat.

"Ed!" Stede grabbed the other man's shoulders. "It's just me. You're alright, it's just me."

Ed appeared to be dazed, looking around as if it was his first time laying eyes on the place, breathing shallow and quick. "How did I get here?" the dark haired man asked, his voice tinged with worry.

"I don't know. I woke up and you were there." He ran a thumb down Ed's cheek, his beard like the bristles of a broom.

"Was I sleepwalking?" He frowned at the nightshirt, snatched it up and pulled it back on in one fell swoop. "I've never done that before."

"I'm not sure, Ed. But you're fine," Stede replied with a gentle tug at his arm. "Let's go back to bed."

Ed's mouth pressed into a thin line as he shook his head. "No…no…I'm awake now."

"C'mon, Ed..."

"No, not now." He gently pushed Stede's hands down and stalked out of the room.

Deciding it was better to leave Ed alone to cool off and collect his thoughts, Stede slipped back under the covers. His hand went to Ed's pillow which was cool to the touch. An hour or two later he walked into the living room and found Ed asleep under a fort made with the blankets and chairs they had taken from what remained at Spanish Jackie's abandoned tavern.

The former Blackbeard spent the rest of the day dismissing Stede's concerns, waving them off with an impatient flick of his wrist. Ed put up a good fight, but no one can fight forever and by dusk it was clear he was on the losing side of that battle as he was nodding off at the dinner table, three seconds away from introducing dinner to his lap.

Stede had helped Ed to the bedroom, out of his clothes, unwound the black cravat that Ed always wore except when he was sleeping, helped pull on his plain white nightshirt and get into bed. Ed never took his eyes off him, not uttering a word the entire time, clinging to a contemplative silence, not wanting to muddy the waters of the quiet he was submerged in. He was out the second his head hit the pillow. The war raging on in Ed's mind had called a cease fire. Unfortunately, a nagging voice in the back of Stede's head told him it was going to be short lived. The blond man left the cravat on the chest of drawers in the spot where Ed always kept it at night and left.

Now in the yellow light of the lamp softened Ed's features, his salt and pepper beard looking silken in the muted glow, the planes and valleys of his body and the blankets pooled all around him. His hands were tucked under the pillow, the flowing white night shirt and bedding hiding the tattoos that crisscrossed his body. Stede knew those tattoos by heart, every inch. Because their nights weren't always so quiet; there were entire nights spent with Ed's greedy hands and bruising kisses, skin on skin, nights where they slept without a stich of clothing, nights where Stede traced every bit of ink he could touch, mapping out the former pirate's history that had been etched into his body while feeling like a book of blank pages in comparison. But what Ed needed right now was rest, all the rest he could get to fight whatever demons were plaguing him. And Stede vowed to be at his side no matter what.

He quietly undressed, wary of the groans and creaks of the floorboards or rustling of his clothes, but thankfully there was no stirring from Ed's side of the bed. As Stede was reaching for the blankets Ed rolled over with a short groan, flinging his arm onto Stede's pillow, muttering incoherently. Slowly, Stede climbed in and closed the distance between them, taking a calloused hand in his, falling asleep as he breathed in the air Ed had exhaled.

Stede woke up alone. In the hushed morning light of the room he stumbled to the kitchen and was relieved to see Ed sitting at the table, munching on an orange. The scattered chunks of peel littering the table said it wasn't his first.

"Good morning," Stede greeted, and grinned at the sight of the two oranges waiting for him on his side of the table.

"Morning, mate, " Ed replied. "We're out of marmalade."

Grabbing the marmalade pot and confirming that the contents had been emptied, Stede exclaimed, "This was almost full last night!"

"And your point?" Ed tried to hide his smirk and failed miserably.

"Did you eat all of the bread as well?"

"Why do you think I'm eating these?" Ed held up a piece of the citrus fruit before popping it in his mouth.

Setting the empty pot back on the table with an exaggerated sigh of defeat, the blond man said, "We'll get some more later." He snagged an orange and peeled it before Ed ate all of them too. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did."

"That's good to hear," he said, biting into a piece of orange.

"It helped that I didn't have any of those weird dreams."

Stede's mouth froze mid-chew. "What weird dreams?"

"They're so weird…Sometimes I'll just be sitting on the bed or looking out the bedroom window for what seems like hours." The orange in Stede's mouth turned to mud. "Actually, it's more like I'm watching myself do those things. It's so strange."

Stede swallowed the bite of fruit before he choked on it. "You don't remember standing at the window yesterday morning?"

"I did?" His brow furrowed. "I wasn't dreaming that? I'm doing those things?"

"I'm afraid so. You don't remember at all?"

"No." Ed answered, his teeth sinking into his lower lip.

"Do you remember anything about yesterday morning?"

"Waking up early and sitting with Izzy for a while." At least once a day Ed sat at Izzy's grave and talked to him. Stede swallowed hard, knowing Ed missed his friend much more than he let on. "Then I remember being scared...and then you woke me up in the blanket fort." He frowned. "I don't remember making the blanket fort...I just remember being scared and needing to hide..."

"Hide from what?"

"I don't know...," The answer trailed off like a ribbon being carried off by the breeze.

"You were tired, Ed, that's all."

"I was. But why was I at the window? Why am I hiding in blanket forts? What am I afraid of?"

"I can't answer those questions." Stede reached across the table and took a tattooed hand in his. "But you are in a new environment, starting a new life. You just need to get used to it and settle in. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. It will pass."

Ed squeezed the pale hand holding his. "You're probably right." A smile tugged at his mouth. "Let's talk about something else. Please."

Stede returned his smile. "Of course."