Ah yes, the blissful opportunity to witness the affectionate touch of reassurance with a hint of protectiveness that we've all been reading about in fics
Just Izzy trying to hide being sick and then passing out in the common area
Izzy remembered the last time he was sick. It would be hard to not remember when it gave him the nickname. Izzy the spewer. He was sick again and this time he would make sure no one noticed. The problem was it was hard to hide anything when you were so feverish that you could barely think. It was weird to try to act normal. Did anyone notice him more playing with his food than eating at breakfast? How mean was he usually to the crew? Was it suspicious that some things around the bout took him longer?
He was either a better actor than he thought or the rest of the crew was plain stupid. Well, he thought they were plain stupid but also he looked like shit and no amount of acting could hide that. So he guessed that no one cared. Which was good because no one commented on his obvious illness all day. But it also made him want to curl up in a corner and cry. Damn fever making him emotional. Blackbeard should have at least asked if he was alright or... Or something. No he actually wouldn't. But Edward would. The same Edward who was so engrossed with Stede that he didn't notice his first mate barely keeping himself upright. Did the ship have to rock so much? Or was he just being dizzy?
Dizzy Izzy.
He needs to get inside. It's evening already. Everyone is sitting down to relax. No one will notice when he slips away.
He ended up falling onto his bed face first and falling asleep as soon as he made himself comfortable.
Then he woke up at some ungodly hour of the night shivering, drenched in sweat. His mouth was dry as a desert. He felt as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in days. He would have to go to the kitchen to get some water. The thought of getting up seemed so exhausting that he was ready to die of dehydration. The responsible side of his brain scolded him.
He needed to get off the leathers first. That was an ordeal that left him panting for breath and fighting to keep his eyes open. Water. He needed water. He dressed in the first shirt he could find. Threw on some pants. He got up carefully. The word spun but it passed after a while. He noticed that his feet were bare. He must have took of his shoes before coming to bed. Why did his fevered brain think it was important to take off shoes but not the leathers was beyond him.
He started the journey to the kitchen. It took embarrassingly long. He had to support himself on the walls to get there. Which again his world rocked without the additional help of the sea.
He finally got to the kitchen. He got water. Oh sweet water. He had never tasted something so good. The rational side of the brain quipped that he was just dehydrated but he was too happy about the water to listen. The ship rocked hard. Or it was just him being dizzy. He didn't care. He titled and caught himself on the counter. No need to add injury to sickness. He sat on the floor. That was a much safer position.
He sat on it drinking for a good while. He must have fallen asleep because he woke up when something jostled his leg. That something cursed. And someone just tripped over his leg. Not good. It was still dark so everyone should be asleep. Well, beside the person who just tripped over him.
"izzy?" They asked confused. And oh it had to be Blackbeard, hadn't it? But maybe it was good. He couldn't decide.
"Hey cap'tn." He hoped his slur came out as intentional.
"What are you doing on the floor?"
"Sitting." He wanted to hit himself. What kind of answer was that?
Then suddenly there was Edward's face very close to his. He squinted at him.
"Are you drunk?"
If he answered yes then captain would probably carry him to bed. Thrown over his shoulder. Which could end up very bad. He did not want to puke all over his captain.
"No." At that the Captain's frown deepened.
He sniffed the air a bit. To check for alcohol he supposed. Then he backed away a little. Looked him over. Noticed his light attire, lack of shoes, mused hair and whatever else was out of place with him. And he really didn't want to get noticed at the moment.
"Go'way." His mouth produced before he could run it by his brain.
Edward startled. Then there were hands on him. And he didn't like the hands and squirmed away. At least he tried to but the hands were strong and held him in place.
"You're burning up." The captain stated.
"Yeah." He admitted in defeat. Damn. He was so tired. He wanted to be back in bed. But it would took so long to get there. All the way down the hallway. He would have to get up first. He did not think-
Edward was talking. And he did not get a world he said. That should be probably worrying but he was just annoyed.
"Izzy." The forceful way he said his name snapped him to attention.
"Why didn't you tell anyone that you're sick?"
He really didn't want to talk about that.
"Wasn't that bad." He mumbled.
The captain sighed.
"Let's get you to bed "
Edward pulled his arm over his broad shoulders. Then he was unceremoniously hauled to his feet and the world spun in earnest now and he was aware of slumping against Edward. And there was a string of curses. He was not sure if it was his or Edward's or maybe it came from both of them. Then the world slipped away from him for a moment.
The next thing he was aware of was that he was back on the floor and he was still slumped against Edward and the captain's knee was rammed uncomfortably in his lower back. And there was a hand on his cheek. And he looked into Edward's eyes.
"You with me?"
And he grumbled which was enough of a confirmation for the captain.
"You think you're ready to get up? Slowly this time."
"Dunno." And Edward hauled him up anyway. And this time he miraculously did not faint. Because that he what he did the last time. A wave of embarrassment washed over him. He quickly forgot about it when the world spun again. When it stilled he become aware that gripped Edward's shoulder like it was his lifeline and relaxed it a bit.
"You good?"
"Mhmm" His eyes closed out of their own accord.
Edward tensed.
"What's going on?" Stede fucking Bonnet. No. Nope. That was the last thing he needed. Everything but him. He wanted to groan. And he did.
“He’s sick.” Ugh. Did he have to tell him?
“Oh, dear.” Stede sounded worried. He definitely wasn’t worried about him.
Then there were hands at his face and neck. Soft hands of an aristocrat. Stede’s hands. He whipped his head from their grip. Succeeded in making himself dizzy again. Edward’s grip on him tightened.
“Izzy.” He had the gall to sound exasperated when Stede fucking Bonett had just touched him.
“It’s fine.” Did he have to sound so soft? “He’s way too hot.” And again he sounded worried. Like he didn’t want him dead as much as he wanted to kill him.
“I know. I was just getting him back to bed.” Edward casually talked about him like he wasn’t there.
“I will help you with that.” Stede said reading to take hold of his other side. He paused. “Are you going to let me help, Izzy?”
“Of course he’s going-“ Edward started.
“No. It’s clear he didn’t like it the last time I touched him and struggling will do him no good at the moment.” He said sternly. “So, Izzy, will you not fight me if I try to help?”
He swallowed. It felt weird that someone cared about his comfort. He found himself nodding before he thought properly about it. And so he ended up being dragged to bed by his co-captains. This was not how he imagined his night to go.
“What were you doing out of bed?” Stede asked.
“Water.”
“Right. You’re feverish so you probably woke up thirsty. What are your other symptoms?”
“Um...” He was thoroughly confused now.
“Then let’s do it in yes or no questions, okay?”
“You’re a doctor now?”
“Just answer the questions so I know what to do.”
“Just let me sleep this off.”
“I don’t think this is something you just can sleep off.” Edward quipped. “Now answer his questions.” He commanded.
“Yes, cap’tn.”
“There’s obviously the fever.” Stede mused. “ Headache?”
“Yeah.”
“Nausea?”
“Yeah.”
“Sore throat?”
“Yeah.” He reflexively cleared his throat.
“Runny nose?”
“No.”
“Cough?”
“No.”
“Muscle pain?
“Yeah.”
“How long have you been feeling bad?”
“Uh, since yesterday?”
“Before you got to sleep yesterday or earlier?”
“Earlier?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” And again with the same question.
“He said it wasn’t this bad before.” Edward answered for him.
Stede looked ready to call his bullshit but decided against it. And he was angry at himself that he felt grateful for it.
And finally they arrived at his cabin. They sat him on the bed and helped him lie down. He didn’t need help with that, thank you very much. But he also didn’t have strength to fight them. The rest of the night got a little hazy. He was freezing and burning in turns. There were cold compresses at his forehead and also some other parts of his body. There were also nightmares and trashing and hands and struggling and fear and calm voices and not so calm voices and someone calling his name and...
And it was morning. Or rather midday he noticed. He still felt like shit. There was a now warm compress at his forehead. It fell of when he sat. He stared blankly at it for a indefinite amount of time. Then his door opened.
“Oh, you’re awake. Wonderful!” Stead exclaimed. And it did not do wonders for his headache. He whinced.
“Ah, sorry.” He did look apologetic. “You gave us quite a scare tonight. How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.” Is what he wanted to say but nothing came out. And damn his throat hurt.
“You lost your voice?” Stede asked sympathetically.
“He lost his voice?” Edward asked while walking in.
He nodded answering them both.
“Are you feeling better?”
He thought about it. He made a so-so motion.
“You think you can stomach some soup?”
He nodded but without enthusiasm.
“ Not hungry?”
He shook his head.
“Well you need to eat to feel better.” Stede walked out. Presumably to bring him soup himself.
Edward sat at a chair next to his bed. His arms were crossed. He stared at him. He was about to start to squirm when he spoke. “Tell me next time that you’re sick before you’re nearly dying.” There was an emotion there. One he couldn’t quite name. One that he did not expect.
He blinked. Then he shook his head. Balled his feast on the blanked. Tried to speak. Failed. Huffed in frustration. Edward sighed and walked out. His shoulders dropped in resignation. And he did not understand. He knew deep down he was the cause of it. But he did not understand.
