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[ He makes another pained noise, like Stede is twisting a dagger in his guts. (Except, if it were just a dagger, he'd still never make a noise like this.) ]
You don't. You can't. I'm not- I'm not him.
You don't. You can't. I'm not- I'm not him.
[ He spends another moment, breathing in Stede, feeling Stede.
Then he roughly pushes him away.
Now that Stede can get a proper look at him he looks terrible. Not just the kohl, but the way his eyes have sallowed out- sore from crying, baggy from a lack of sleep. His hair is grimy, his lips cracked, and he is very obviously drunk.
It takes him a moment to square his jaw, swallow down his tears. ]
There's no-... no Ed. Never was. Just Blackbeard.
[ There is nothing in him that deserves soft cashmere and soothing touches. Nothing that "wears fine things well." Nothing that could ever hope of being simply happy.
He can't take this. He can't take seeing what he can't have, and he knows he can't have this. Stede's wrong. Stede's confused. He had the right idea at running away, and he should have just stayed away instead of torturing him like this. ]
Go. Leave me be.
Then he roughly pushes him away.
Now that Stede can get a proper look at him he looks terrible. Not just the kohl, but the way his eyes have sallowed out- sore from crying, baggy from a lack of sleep. His hair is grimy, his lips cracked, and he is very obviously drunk.
It takes him a moment to square his jaw, swallow down his tears. ]
There's no-... no Ed. Never was. Just Blackbeard.
[ There is nothing in him that deserves soft cashmere and soothing touches. Nothing that "wears fine things well." Nothing that could ever hope of being simply happy.
He can't take this. He can't take seeing what he can't have, and he knows he can't have this. Stede's wrong. Stede's confused. He had the right idea at running away, and he should have just stayed away instead of torturing him like this. ]
Go. Leave me be.
[ stede nearly starts by saying that's absurd but then he takes a good look at ed. sees the fractures along the fautlines. ]
Do you . . . really want me to go?
Do you . . . really want me to go?
[ Ed's face contorts as he tries to make himself say "yes." His lips twist, and he grimaces, but he can't do it. He can't make the word come out without his tears threatening to spill. So instead he just stares at Stede, stricken.
God, he's so tired. ]
God, he's so tired. ]
[ he relaxes a little, reaching out to gather ed in his arms. ]
It's all right. You're exhausted. We'll take it slow, all right? Bit by bit.
It's all right. You're exhausted. We'll take it slow, all right? Bit by bit.
[ For a moment, he looks like he's going to flinch back, but he is exhausted. He can't fight this. So instead he lets Stede gather him up, fists both hands in Stede's sleeves, and lets out a ragged sob. ]
[ stede quietly rubs his back. ]
It'll be all right.
It'll be all right.
[ Just clutching him tightly- ashamed of how taken apart he is, but there's nothing to be done about it. ]
Stede, Stede.
Stede, Stede.
[ gently. ]
Ed. Is there something I should know?
Ed. Is there something I should know?
[ Oh. Oh fuck. He had been so up in his own feelings he had forgotten the specifics of why he didn't deserve Stede back. He takes a deep breath, steadies himself, pulls back a little. ]
Oh. Oh fuck me.
Oh. Oh fuck me.
[ Relief washes visibly over him. ]
Still. Tried.
[ He is almost afraid to ask but: ]
The writey one. Lucian?
Still. Tried.
[ He is almost afraid to ask but: ]
The writey one. Lucian?
[ stede stares because that doesn't sound right. ]
Not . . . maimed?
Not . . . maimed?
Ed, that's not an excuse. That's just your name. One of them anyway.
Not trying to excuse it.
Edited 2022-04-07 17:56 (UTC)
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