Bad Dog - Our Flag Means Death (Ed x Izzy)

Bad Dog

The Queen Anne's Revenge was born to haul slaves, to rip people from their homeland and force them into servitude.

When Edward Teach took it as his flagship, he threw everything not nailed down into the ocean. He had various holy people cleanse the ship, going so far as to sail out of their way and through dangerous waters to track down one mystic in particular.

But even after all that, the energy of the ship never settled, and the dark air of the grand vessel formed a death grip around Blackbeard's heart.

And he was Blackbeard. The man that was Edward Teach was subsumed by that persona. What had started as armor to keep the world at bay had swallowed him whole.

Izzy Hands had been noticing a slow decline in the power and intensity of his captain. He had gone from reveling in the fury of battle and hurting enemies, to a man who had to be provoked to even get out of bed in the morning.

If Izzy had much of a heart to break, seeing Edward like that would break it.

"Boss," said Izzy with a soft rap on the doorway to his cabin.

Ed sat in the windowsill, one leg up, staring through black tattered curtains at the ocean beyond.

He didn't react to Izzy's presence aside from the tiniest flex of his fingers.

"Captain," said Izzy more insistently. "We've got word there's a new player. A bored little rich boy with a toy ship. Seems the sort that might need to be taught a lesson."

Edward made signs that he understood Izzy was there, but didn't react with words.

Izzy dared to get closer, going so far as to reach out for the other man. "Edward..."

In a sudden movement, Ed reached out to snatch Izzy's wrist, to twist it at an angle that sent a surge of nerve pain up along the back of his arm to the base of his neck.

An old injury - a knife wound to the palm some years back. That nerve damage created a sensitive spot that multiplied the pain by a factor of five.

As Izzy writhed from the heat of his nerves on fire and choked out a rough sob, he felt a surge of joy as well.

Ed remembered. He remembered where the injury was. The fact that he used that knowledge to hurt Izzy was irrelevant. As far as he was concerned, remembering how to hurt him was a good thing. It proved he was still in there.

As he doubled over in pain, Izzy looked Ed right in the eye, and saw the fire begin to kindle. But then he released him, and that fire faded back into dull disinterest.

Izzy remained on his knees, clutching his hand and shoulder. He picked himself up.

"Head for Tortuga," said Ed as his fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle of rum.

"Sir?"

"You heard me," Ed replied.

"But the dandy..."

Ed swigged a mouthful from the rum and re-settled on the windowsill. He didn't say another word.

—

It wasn't always like this. Some years ago, when Ed had to work to establish his reputation, it had been glorious. They'd seek out targets to terrorize. The closer to power the men were, the better. His cruelty and power was a thing to behold, as was his talent for theatrics.

Izzy was a simple man in many respects. He lacked the imagination to truly instill terror. Truth be told, he had been chasing the high of those glory days for years. He refused to believe that the man of tremendous power and talent was fading.

But as his reputation grew, so did Edward's boredom and his erratic behaviour.

They had been lovers, once. It started when they were younger men serving under Captain Hornigold. He had confronted Ed one night while he was still fired on adrenaline and blood lust after burning a slave ship into ash.

Ed had come at him, his hand on Izzy's throat. He nearly killed him, then and there for the crime of daring to touch him when his blood was up.

It got Izzy's blood up, too - in one very specific place.

Nothing happened that night except a knowing look, but Ed had clearly taken notice. Curious man he was, he tried it again the next time they returned from a raid.

As the second time was more expected, Izzy reacted the moment Ed's arm was up against his jugular and pinning him to the cabin wall. Ed then forced him down to his belt.

Izzy knew what he was after, and happily obliged.

It was never a relationship. Neither men had to voice that for that fact to be abundantly clear. There was nothing like intimacy between them - in moments that often left both men (more often Izzy) bruised and broken.

In fact, they never shared a bed for anything other than fucking.

And they never kissed.

Izzy had tried a few times to take Ed full on the mouth, to touch his face and to knot his fingers in the man's full beard. But he was always rebuffed, often slammed face-down for his troubles or banished entirely no matter how worked up they both were.

Izzy soon learned not to try, and to take what he was given and be thankful.

Then came Calico Jack.

Jack came onto the scene when the notoriously fickle Ed - who had been promoted to First Mate under Captain Hornigold - experienced the first bout of ennui he'd seen. Jack's chaotic energy breathed some life into Ed, and for that, Izzy was grateful.

And when Izzy witnessed him kiss Jack on a beach one night, his jealousy was tempered by the renewed energy Jack seemed to give the man he was dedicated to to the point of obsession.

Jack served a purpose in that moment. He was good for Ed - and he knew that the fearsome pirate would soon grow bored.

But after Jack, Ed and Izzy stopped being lovers. Things were never rekindled, even after Jack took off and Ed was given his first full command. Izzy tried a few times to engage, but he was left frustrated and spurned - forced to find companionship elsewhere or take care of himself.

And yet he stayed. A dog at the heel of his master, eager for any scraps of attention. Loyal to a fault.

It was never really about the sex, though Izzy did miss the passionate and often violent affairs that had left permanent marks on his body.

The last time that he truly connected was the day the small 'x' was carved on his face. A new crewmember came aboard who was quite talented in tattoos. Ed had several added to the gallery of his body and asked the man to show him the techniques.

He used what he had learned to mark Izzy's face. He had been surprisingly gentle as he did it, cradling Izzy's head in his lap and making sure at every moment that he was feeling safe.

It was a very, very strange experience that made Izzy deeply uncomfortable. But every time he saw his reflection in the water or a piece of polished silver after that, he saw that X - the mark that Ed had given him. A mark that everyone saw whenever they looked at him.

Claimed by Blackbeard. Owned by him, marked with a brand. Like the X the pirates who couldn't read used in place of a signature.

Make your mark.

Edward had done that on Izzy in more ways than one.

—

So when, some years later, Izzy witnessed Edward bloom like a flower in the sunshine of a poncy idiot, he felt a deep pit of rage. Rage from the injustice of a man like Stede Bonnet getting to see parts of Edward he'd kept concealed for so long.

Stede chipped away at everything that kept Ed safe. He was removing Blackbeard's armor and making Ed like him.

Soft. Weak.

It would get him killed.

But Izzy Hands wouldn't let that happen. Not while he still drew breath.