Goldie's Blog] Where's My Izzy Hands

Izzy knew that the best thing to do when a member of the crew got sick was to quarantine them, at least to some extent. Ships were prime spaces for viruses to spread and if the whole crew got sick that would be good for nobody. 

That rule hasn’t applied much to Izzy since he became First Mate, though. He was always needed for one thing or another, he couldn’t just take time off because he had the sniffles or a sore throat. He had to just work through it unless it got bad enough to have him unable to move from his cot, that wasn’t very common though.

Why Bonnet had insisted on following this one rule of ship and crew maintenance was beyond him, probably just to irritate Izzy even more than he already does. Izzy had let a few coughs and sneezes slip while he was up on deck, no big deal, but Bonnet had taken notice. Roach had agreed that Izzy was coming down with something, and Bonnet had insisted that Izzy retire to his cabin to sleep it off, to take as much time as he needed until he was feeling better. Of course, Izzy had thought it, but Edward had only backed up his co-captain on the matter.

So, Izzy had stomped down to his cabin while hurling verbal abuse at anyone who he passed just to make himself feel a little bit better. He supposed that if he was going to be trapped in his cabin until he could pass as being perfectly well, he might as well actually try to sleep some of this sickness off.

His short nap was cut even shorter by the sound of somebody knocking at his door. Surely Bonnet had told the whole crew that Izzy was in bed with some terrible illness by now, so maybe if he just stayed quiet the person outside would just go away.

Instead, the door opened. Izzy groaned as he sat up, finding that his head was actually aching a little more now rather than feeling any better. He glared at you, only snarling a little, as you entered his cabin.

“I guess I woke you…” you observed, at least looking a little guilty about it. “Didn’t think you’d actually go to sleep. Thought you’d just pace around until you passed out or something,” you didn’t look at him as you moved further into the room, placing a tray down on his desk.

“Anyway, got some…bad news,” you turned to him, a not so sorry smile on your face.

“If I’m dying, that would actually be a relief,” Izzy huffed. Even when he was sent to his cabin to wallow in his sickness, he couldn’t get a break from this damned crew.

“Ah, nobody’s that lucky, I’m afraid,” you joked, but it actually came out more light than malicious. “Stede has assigned me to nurse you back to health,” you finally informed him.

Izzy blinked at you like you had just spoken some other language he wasn’t familiar with. “What?”

“Best to only have one person coming to see you, reduce the risk of contamination and all that. Since I help Roach with the medical stuff around here, Stede thought it would be for the best,” you explained.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. His head was aching more now.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” you laughed to yourself before stepping to the side, gesturing to the tray on his desk. “Got you a pitcher of water, you really need to keep hydrated, and some broth. Won’t be too heavy on your stomach.”

At least you didn’t bring up the whole ‘Izzy the Spewer’ thing, even if Izzy could tell what you were getting at with the stomach comment. To his surprise, you actually sounded sincere and concerned rather than mocking.

“When did you start feeling sick?” you asked, almost clinically. A little like Roach would ask ‘does that hurt’ when he was poking at a bleeding wound.

“I can take care of myself. Done it plenty of times before.” Izzy wasn’t even sure why he was fighting it, stupid shit seemed to be inevitable on this ship.

“Oh, I’m sure. I bet you worked through it all like the stubborn little creature you are, right?” you rolled your eyes, your tone flat.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” Izzy muttered.

“Well, you still don’t, now you have to let yourself accept help and be taken care of,” you tutted before repeating your question. “So, when did you start feeling sick?”

“...felt it coming on yesterday.”

“You’re at the beginning of it then. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. Probably just the common cold, nothing to worry about, sure you’ve dealt with worse,” you shrugged slightly. “Drink. Eat. Drink some more. Then get some sleep. Let your body rest and heal,” you advised, “I’ll be back later to check on you, get you some more food and water.”

“Don’t feel obligated,” Izzy grumbled as you headed to the door, unsure if he even wanted you to hear him.

“I’ll see you later. Or not…if you’re asleep, I won’t wake you,” you told him, leaving no room for debate.

And just like that, you were gone.

Despite being frustrated with Bonnet's stupid orders and even more frustrated that you would be popping in and out, Izzy dropped down in the seat at his desk. He ate the broth and drank some water before dragging himself back into bed, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

Just as you said you would, you dropped by his cabin later on to check on him. To your surprise, he was actually sleeping. Even more surprisingly, he actually looked somewhat peaceful, not as grumpy as he usually is. 

Maybe it was silly, but you couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight.

You placed the fresh pitcher of water and some leftover biscuits, in case he got hungry, down on his desk.

Silently, you stepped over to Izzy’s cot and carefully fixed the blanket over his frame. He must have kicked it off of himself a little in his sleep. Izzy hummed and nuzzled into his pillow, you bit back a small laugh. Wasn’t that just adorable? You dug a cloth out of your pocket and wiped away the slight sheen of sweat over his brow before returning to his desk.

With your job done, you gathered up the dirty dishes and left the cabin. You walked into the galley, dropping the dishes down by the sink.

“How’s the patient?” Roach asked. He had been very vocal about how pleased he was that Stede had assigned you to watch over Izzy and not him.

“Sleeping,” you told him, “think he’s getting a fever.” 

“Better you than me, I’d probably just tie him down to the bed and force feed him until he’s better,” Roach mused. He was a surprisingly talented medic but not always the most patient one. If his patient didn’t want help, they wouldn’t be getting it.

“Kinky,” you wiggled your brows at him before turning back to the dishes. “Let’s just hope the fever makes him easier to handle.”

You checked in on Izzy again before you headed to bed. He was sleeping again but there was less water and fewer biscuits than what you had left earlier, so you took that as a win. You would stop by before breakfast, make sure he wasn’t going without anything.

-

The next morning you checked in on Izzy, expecting to find him still in bed, but instead he was sitting on the edge of his cot. His clothes sat beside him, pants in hand. It looked like he had started to get dressed but had to sit down before really even starting.

He looked frustrated with himself but he clearly wasn’t well, his face pale and his shoulders slumped.

“Are you seriously trying to get up?” you asked with a huff, like you just couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You absolutely could believe that Izzy Hands was trying to get back to work when he was hitting the worst of his illness. 

“I’m fine,” Izzy insisted, cringing at how rough his own voice sounded.

“That’s a blatant fucking lie,” you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, back in bed,” you were in front of him in an instant, pulling the leather pants out of his hands. You folded his clothes neatly and placed them on top of the chest at the bottom of his bed.

Izzy just watched as you moved around his cabin, vaguely pleased that you had neatly handled his clothes, as ridiculous as that may be. Then you were returning to him, a hand on his shoulder as you got him to lay down and pulled his blanket over him. He protested and weakly thought but before he knew it, he was back in his bed.

“Too warm,” Izzy complained, trying to push the blanket off of him again.

“It’s your fever. Don’t kick it off, okay?” your voice was surprisingly soothing as you spoke, like you really wanted him to understand and not just do as you said because you said it. “I’ll get some stuff for you in a minute,” you assured, tucking the blanket back into place.

“Are you up for eating?” you asked, stepping back. Izzy just shrugged, feeling completely out of his element. “I’ll get you something small,” you decided with a small nod. “Want some medication?”

“No,” Izzy answered. You just nodded, not pushing him on the matter.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” you promised before gathering up the dirty dishes and dipping out of the cabin.

When you returned again a few minutes later, it was with another tray of items.

Izzy grumpily sat up and let you give him what you brought for him. You got him to drink a full cup of water and then helped him eat a few spoonfuls of soup. He blushed the whole time at the fussing and protesting that he could manage himself, but you just shushed him and did your job.

Izzy drank some more and lay down properly again. You placed a cool damp cloth over his forehead, making him comfortable before telling him to get some sleep. He surprised himself by actually falling asleep, unable to fight his heavy eyelids.

This time, as he slept, you stayed. Sitting by his bedside so you could keep replacing the cloth and keep his temperature down.

You had to pop out of the cabin every now and again throughout the day to tend to other things but you would always return to care for Izzy, even if he fought you every step of the way.

-

On the third day, Izzy’s fever seemed to reach its peak. Which you hoped meant it would start getting better soon.

He ate very little that day but you managed to force him to drink whenever he woke up. When you had been asked to nurse Izzy a little, you had completely planned on giving him plenty of space and time alone since he seemed to enjoy it so much, but that day you barely left his side.

While he slept, you were sitting beside him, rinsing and replacing the cloth on his forehead to help keep him cool.

Your silent routine was interrupted by a quiet whine. You paused, frowning down at the sleeping first mate. He whined again, his brow pinching slightly.

“Shush, just gotta get through the worst of it,” you attempted to soothe him, even if he couldn’t hear you.

Izzy’s face scrunched up as he began to writhe on his cot, like he was having a nightmare of some sort. It was probably a symptom of his fever, or at least worsened by it.

“You’re alright, Iz. Just a bad dream, I’ve got you,” you continued to talk sweet nonsense until he calmed. He hummed slightly when you ran your fingers through his dirty hair, so you continued, happy that it was soothing him.

You smiled as he settled. “There we go, just sleep it off,” you whispered. Izzy let out a small sigh, slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

With a sigh, you stood and began tidying up again. You couldn’t sit around watching Izzy sleep all day, especially when he would most likely be perfectly fine, but you found yourself not really wanting to leave him.

-

The fourth day came around after you managed to pull yourself away from his side to get some sleep. Of course, the first thing you did was grab some food from the galley and went to see Izzy. He was laying on his cot, awake but not looking happy in the slightest. At least he wasn’t trying to get back to work this time.

“Still feeling shitty, huh?” you asked.

“You tell me,” Izzy muttered.

For some reason you felt fond about his grouchiness. “Alright, I brought some brekkie. Hungry?”

Izzy eyed the bowl in your hands. “...could eat…”

You insisted on spoon feeding him even when he fought it. He eventually allowed it, grumbling with each bite he took. The broth was good though, soothing his throat, clearing his sinuses, and warming his belly.

“Ate more than yesterday, that’s good,” you acknowledged.

As you placed the bowl down, Izzy actually asked for something. “Water?”

“Look at that, asking for things, accepting help. You’re growing, doing so well.” You were teasing, of course you were teasing, just joking around. Still, he couldn’t help the way he flushed at the praise. What the fuck? He only asked for some water.

You poured him a cup of water and handed it over without another comment. “If you finish the full cup and I’ll leave you alone until lunch,” you promised.

“If that’s all it takes,” Izzy huffed, bringing the cup up to his mouth.

“Ah, you like me. You haven’t even threatened to stab me once,” you teased.

Izzy distracted himself by finishing the drink, letting you take the cup back once it was empty. He really didn’t need all this doting, and surely he could fight it a little more…

“And we say…” you prompted.

“Fuck off.”

“Come on, Izzy. Say it and I’ll bring an extra treat with lunch.”

“Fucking-” Izzy sighed, knowing you wouldn’t drop this. You had probably earnt it at this point anyway. “Thank you.”

“See, not so difficult,” you smiled, seemingly pleased with him, before pressing a kiss to his temple.

Izzy froze but you didn’t pay it any mind, you just went about tidying up like you always do and headed for the door. “Get some rest. Feel better soon, Iz,” you left him with another sincere smile.

-

You returned to Izzy’s cabin later on that day. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Can I fucking move now?” Izzy glared at you. He was probably going a little crazy locked up in his cabin for the last few days, and you couldn’t really blame him.

“Nope, not until you’re back in perfect health. Captain’s rules,” you at least looked a little apologetic, “maybe tomorrow, though.”

“Got you some broth,” of course, you had your tray with you, “Roach is making stew for dinner today, think you’re up for that?” 

Izzy huffed and rolled his eyes. “Just some fucking stew.” 

“Izzy, work with me here. Don’t want to give you anything that upsets your stomach,” you sighed, something about it a little pleading.

You were right, he supposed. You only wanted to help, even if Bonnet had fucking ordered you to. “...yeah…stew will be fine,” he gave in.

“Good,” you smiled, bright and genuine again.

You let him feed himself this time, since this time you sat and ate with him. Letting him have half of your orange.

“Since you’re feeling better and not sleeping through the whole day, do you want me to bring you anything for entertainment?” you asked but Izzy just raised an eyebrow at you. “I dunno, like a book or something?” you weren’t even sure if he could read, you had seen him working on the logs but that was a little different.

“I could get Frenchie to sit outside your door and play some songs,” you suggested.

“A book is fine,” Izzy answered quickly before begrudgingly adding, “nothing boring.”

“It will be the most exhilarating book you’ve ever read,” you winked playfully.

-

Since lunch had gone so well, at least in your opinion, you had decided to eat your dinner with Izzy as well. Plus, he was more cognizant than he was yesterday and you thought the company would be good for him even if he didn’t much care for it.

“Aren’t you worried about getting sick? I mean, you don’t have to eat with me,” Izzy eventually questioned after eating in silence.

“Don’t want you to be all isolated and lonely in here. I’ll take the risk,” you shrugged, sounding honest enough. “You’ll just have to nurse me back to health like I have so kindly done for you,” you teased.

“In your fucking dreams,” Izzy scoffed. He was a first mate, not a nurse.

“I bet you’d be the most effective nurse ever, very practical. Terrible bedside manner, though,” you thought out loud, hearing Izzy’s quiet snort of amusement. “Bet you’d just tell the illness to fuck off and it would.”

“Huh, haven’t tried that yet,” he muttered.

“Wouldn’t work on yourself. Bet your illnesses are just stubborn as you are,” you hummed thoughtfully.

At that, Izzy smiled a little to himself. He had to admit that this is kinda…nice.

“Think you’ll be back up on deck soon?” you asked.

“Could have been up there today but you’d snitch to Bonnet,” Izzy shot a halfhearted glare your way. 

“Damn right I would. You need to get fully better or you’re just going to make it worse again,” you chastised. “But maybe the next couple of days, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck,” Izzy seemed genuinely relieved. You’ve never met somebody so reluctant to take a break, especially when they obviously needed one.

“That means you need to be caught up on what’s going on up there,” your eyes brightened at the realisation.

“Bet it’s not piracy,” Izzy scoffed.

“I’d say you won that bet, but I have no coin to give you,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “Anyway, here’s everything that has happened since you got sentenced to your cabin…”

You went on to tell him about all of the inane things the crew had gotten up too over the last few days, even going into depth about the most mundane things.

Izzy truly didn’t care about the stupid conversations the crew was having over dinner in the galley, but he found himself listening anyway. Admittedly, he lost the actual words every now and again when he really lost interest in the story, but he still found your voice soothing. Even if he couldn’t recall everything you said, a part of him didn’t want you to stop. He could just finish his stew to the soothing sound of your company.

-

On the fifth day, you might have even said that Izzy seemed excited to see you. As soon as you stepped into the cabin, Izzy perked up. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

“Wow, you’re happy to see me…did you fall out of bed and hit your head?” you squinted in suspicion. 

“No,” Izzy huffed. “No, I’m feeling better. I can be…discharged or whatever the fuck,” he insisted.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you tutted.

“Which is why I’m glad you’ve shown up already,” he rolled his eyes.

“I’m right on time!” 

“Just get on with it!”

“Careful or I’m going to tell Stede you need a few more days bedrest,” you warned sternly, earning a small grumble from Izzy.

You gave him a quick check over, making sure his temperature was back to normal, that the colour had returned to his face. Asked how his throat felt, how tired he was, even though you knew he would most likely lie about anything he could. You had to admit, he did seem a lot better.

“Alright, first mate Hands, I think you’re good to get back to work,” you announced/ “But take it easy. First sniffle or clearing of your throat, as I’m dragging you back down here,” you warned.

“Fine. Now fuck off,” Izzy huffed, waving his hand to dismiss you.

“...I still brought breakfast…might as well eat before heading up,” you reasoned, gesturing towards the tray on his desk. Two servings of porridge that Roach had prepared for the crew this morning.