Chapter Text
Izzy watched as their shadows lengthened. The two men, such intrinsic parts of his life, walked into their new house hand-in-hand, chatting happily, full of love. He’d meant what he said to Stede at Spanish Jackie’z. It had taken time, but his heart no longer hurt watching Ed and Stede’s happiness. Though he supposed he no longer had a heart to hurt. Or beat.
Funny that.
He’d been expecting hell with all its fire and brimstone, but instead he’d watched his friends gathered round his grave (fucking sentimental lot wanted to be able to visit him again. Cocksuckers.). They’d teared up, Jim leaning especially hard into Archie and Olu; Frenchie had figured out how to make the cross even though he’d never prayed a day in his life. He’d miss that one in particular. The afterlife had spun him back to the ship, observing Twatty and Pete’s marriage breathing life back into the crew. Everyone sailed off into the, admittedly, impressive sunset while he stayed on the beach watching the ship grow smaller. He felt a softness he’d never been able to find in life and the edges of a smile crept across his face.
“She’s always a bute here, don’na you worry.”
Fuck. Izzy closed his eyes.
“So I take it you didn’t turn into a seagull then?”
“Oh I found my proper form. So’ve you,” Buttons glanced down at both of Izzy’s full legs meaningfully.
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wouldn’t have minded keeping his horsey leg, “Apparently being a cripple isn’t the thing that matters in death.”
The navigator stayed surprisingly silent, though he’d always seemed to understand Izzy’s moods when they were onboard.
“Why can you see me but no one else could?”
Buttons ignored the question, responding with his own, “What do you remember?”
“I got killed, you twat. Don’t think I’ll forget that any time soon.”
Fucking Stede Bonnet and his fucking management style. A year ago he wouldn’t have hesitated to run if he needed to; would have focused on living another day. Instead he’d moved in front of the shot without thinking and protected his crew from that syphilitic ponce. It’d been worth it, despite how much it fucking hurt. Only Izzy would be able to survive an amputation but die from a single gunshot. Though the lung with the bullet hole did think it was a bigger deal than a missing leg.
Still, even as he’d bled out, felt the cold creeping in, he’d been able to do one last act of love for Ed. Let go of Blackbeard and made sure Ed could do the same. He’d protected his crew, they’d gotten out, and that’s what mattered. Wherever he wound up, his family was safe. Something like despair welled up as the ship finally disappeared over the horizon.
“Will I still be able to visit them?” it came out as a whisper, lodging somewhere in his throat. A rueful laugh burbled past his lips, “Or am I stuck listening to those two fuck for all eternity?”
Buttons had turned from the sunset, leveling his gaze at Izzy in a way that sent a chill down his spine; or whatever he was made of now. The other man didn’t answer. Buttons had always been weird, but this was something new. Whatever afterlife peace had been filling Izzy was rapidly souring. He walked further towards the house over the grass, clenching his fists.
“What is this? Are you some sort of afterlife mentor? Weighing my sins to see where I wind up? We already know those results.”
“What do you remember?”
Izzy let out a growl, turning back towards Buttons.
“I told you, I fucking—”
He’d thrust his gloved hand in the direction of the grave, but where the makeshift cross and mound of dirt had mired the landscape, smooth grass waved in the wind. Izzy looked back towards Ed and Stede’s ramshackle house and the golden-hued scene flickered gray for a few moments before righting itself. Izzy turned in horror to look back at his companion. Buttons stood simply, hands folded in front of him like usual.
“Welcome to the ‘ol gravy basket.”