It’s jarring, really. This Edward and this Izzy, with so much and so little time between them. The weight is shifted and turned back on itself over and over again. Neither understand but neither are willing to say, exactly. Ed to save his pride and Izzy in his blind gratitude for normality.

But neither of them are blind, are they. They know it’s there, a great swarm of shadowy questions. Some are just obvious questions.

Izzy, for his guilt and sins alike, is electing to ignore everything and mentally reset himself as though it’s all new to Ed. And perhaps it is?

Perhaps, for whatever reason, that horrible nothing place where the souls of this ship go wasn’t strong enough to keep Edward Teach asunder.

That fits, he thinks. This is mercy. This is all he could ever fucking ask for until the day comes when they’re able to really, truly free themselves from this hell.

Maybe it’s an olive branch from the Captain. Have your man back, get out from under his toes in return. It’s not a bad bargain, really. Too bad that’s not gonna happen.

Izzy leans into the touch, however small, like it’s a lifeline. All tiny little micro expressions and movements to glean every last scrap of affection before it ends without being obvious.

Too obvious, anyway. Another thing they know but don’t. Talk about. Haven’t for a long time. Maybe could again, some day. He doesn’t take his hand away.

“I was hoping you’d know. I’ve got a crew ready for mutiny. They’re snarling lunatics mostly, but they’re loyal and willing. A few leads on getting out of here and a million questions. I’ve been here ages and every answer comes with ten more blank spaces.”