#letsdeerintheheadlights

It had to be noted that, the First Mate of the Revenge was indeed, a man of few words. And the few words that left his lips, were usually either a command or a curse. Though that was not quite strictly true when it came to addressing someone such as yourself. It had not gone unnoticed by the crew that, there was a certain softening of Izzy's tone, whenever he addressed you directly. His curses were said more in jest, than in true anger and there was something akin to fondness in his gaze, as he stared at you for longer than what was considered appropriate from a friend.

While some called Buttons a Sea Witch, perhaps it was you, who was the true magic wielder. Had you not ensnared the First Mate with your powers of compassion and competency? Though you sang no siren song like Swede, you had managed to captivate the mind and heart of the most austere person on the Revenge. If that were not the work of sorcery, then what else coukd it be?

Even now, as Izzy patrolled the deck, barking his usual commands and vulgar threats, there was no denying he kept glancing at the entrance to the hull, where you would be found within the ship's kitchen, helping Roach plan ahead for the upcoming storm.

"I mean look at him, the man's like a lovesick puppy." Lucius scoffed, as he watched the silver-haired pirate like a hawk, scrutinising over every movement and twitch with a level of surveillance that would put even the keenest-eyed night watcher to shame.

Cringing at the verbal observation, Oluwande dared to look in the general direction of the First Mate, whom had thankfully, not seemed to have paid attention to the scribe's declaration. "Sssh, Lucius. He'll hear you."

"Yeah, babe. I love you but you gotta keep your voice down." Pete agreed, taking the rope from his betrothed and making quick work of the shirked task, seeming happy enough to complete the work for them both.

Smirking at the horrified reactions, Lucius looked like a cat who had gotten the cream. Since his lover had taken charge of securing some nearby barrels, he took the opportunity to light himself a cigarette. "Good. I want him too because then, maybe if he does, he'll grow a pair of balls and actually do something about the situation."

"Have they seriously not confessed anything to each other yet?" Archie questioned, genuinely surprised that it had taken you both so long to finally couple up. In the same amount of time, she herself had managed to acquire two partners. Your dire situation did cause the pirate to question whetger or not you were absolutely useless when it came to the matter of love.

"Not according to (y/n), no."

"I wish they'd hurry up. I've got good money riding on them getting together before the next full moon." Wee John grumbled, as he carried a barrel passed the gossiping group. He had invested several coins into the outcome of your poorly-timed love life and by he'll or by high water, he was going to get a good return on his investment- even if it meant locking you and Izzy in the store cupboard himself. Hell, he'd shove you both into a burlap sack, if he thought it would boost his chances on winning the bet.

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

He could hear them. Not clearly enough to make out what they were saying but enough to hear the sound of constant nattering. It was incessant, irritating. Like having tge constant buzz of a pesky wasp in you vicinity. Izzy longed for his days on the Queen Anne, where tge crew we focused on work, not idle chatter. Judging by the way that Lucius fellow kept glaring at him, the First Mate surmised that he was the topic of conversation. "Oi! You lot," he yelled, having finally reached the end of his patience. "I told you to prep the ship, not stand around gossiping like washer women!" leaning heavily against the railing, Izzy let out a string of curse words. Whilst not a religious man, he did ask whatever deity was listening, to give him strength and the will power to not throw someone overboard. "Fucking useless."

"Hey, Izzy."

He tensed at that familiar sound, that voice that never failed to stir something dark and wonderful within his soul. It brought to life a part of him he thought permanently dead. Turns out, it was just in a state of dormancy, waiting to be awakened at the right time. Or, at least of Izzy, the right person. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Roach lock down the pantry?" to an untrained ear, his lack of greeting might have sounded barbed and unwelcoming but you knew him better than that. The silver-haired pirate might have even gone so far as to say, you were the only one who knew him as well as himself.

The average person started a conversation with 'hello' but your dear Israel Hands was less conventional in his approach. "Yeah, we just finished. Oh, I brought you some tea. Thought you might appreciate it." you offered him one of the steaming cups of tea in yiur grasp. With a word of thanks, you both took a moment to savour the first sip, letting the warmth run through your veins and stave of tge slight chill in the air. "How's it going up here?"

"We'll be dead in the water come daybreak, if this lot don't do their fucking job right!" he all but screamed the final part of the sentence, easily earning himself a chorus of 'fuck off, Iggy' and 'we're doing our best here, dude!'

Your cheshire cat grin only grew, as you relished in the harmless feud between the crew and the First Mate. "Wow, that good, huh?" you teased, nudging Izzy with your elbow.

"Can you go down there and help 'em when you're finished with your tea? I need someone with half a braincell to check the sails are secured properly." he implored, pinching the bridge of his nose, as a migraine already started to form. Already feeling overwhelmed, the last thing Izzy needed was to add 'check the twats had correctly prepped the rigging' to his never-ending list of chores.

Sensing his palpable stress, you were quick to place a gentle hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Though public displays of affection were not common between you both, you speculated that since the pirate had not flinched but in fact, leaned into your touch, that he was comfortable with the gesture. "No problem, boss." his returned smile did not quite meet his eyes but a win was a win. You had at least eased Izzy of one burden. "How bad is the storm looking?"

When your hand eventually dropped from his arm, it took everything in Izzy's power to keep his voice steady, as he gave an answer to your question. Oh, how he longed to take your hand in his and place it back in his arm, so that he may feel your gentle warmth through the material of his shirt once more. "If Ed's calculations are correct, which they usually are, then...bad."

"Sounds like it'll be fun." you sighed, your attention now on the looming, dark grey clouds the besmirched the periwinkle skies with the promise of rain and turmoil.

While you were distracted by the landscape, Izzy was preoccupied by you. That was it, just you. There were not a multitude of opportunities in the day, where the First Mate had the chance to be this close to you. Where he could drink in your appearance, under the guise of merely being invested in your conversation. It felt wrong to him to be so infatuated with someone, who quite frankly, would never return his feelings but he was a starved man. Taking in every moment, every snippet of closeness he could get, until one day, your heart belonged to another.

Sometimes, he liked to delude himself and believe- just for a moment- that your kindness, your patience towards him, were all a hint towards you sharing his adoring sentiments. That perhaps, you could indeed fall for someone so wretched and broken as him.

The illusion never lasted long. Such fairytales of beauties falling so hopelessly in love with a beast were nothing but children's stories. The very same fairytales found in Stede's library, no doubt. And Izzy, well, Izzy was nothing if not a realist. He knew that you only tolerated him because you felt forever in his debt for saving your life. The silver-haired pirate had told you time and time again that you did not owe him anything but being as stubborn as you are, he doubted that you had paid him any mind. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked, tone softer than he would have liked. Keeping up appearances around you was nearly impossible.

"I'm gonna bunk up with Oluwande, Jim, and Archie. They've got space on the floor of their cabin."

It was a relief, he mused, that at least you would be sleeping somewhere safe tonight, rather than in the communal space with the others. Still, Izzy could not help but wonder what it would be like, to offer you his own cabin to stay in. He would sleep on the floor, of course, he was a gentleman after all- well, that was debatable but he did possess some morals and understanding of social etiquette- and the last thing the pirate would want to do, was force you into an uncomfortable situation but no. Instead, he kept his yearnings to himself and responded in his usually curt manner. "That's good."

"What about you?" you asked, wondering if Izzy had plans on how he was going to ride out the storm. You assumed alone. Although, you felt a pang of jealously towards the non-existent crewmate, who may one day occupy the same living quarters as the man you were hopelessly besotted with. It was silly really, to feel resentment for someone who had not yet joined the team of misfit pirates and yet, it was inevitable that they would soon in the near future, waltz into Izzy's life and give him the love he most deserved. And as much as it pained you to accept your fate, you knew that could never be you.

"What about me?" he shrugged, unaware of your inner turmoil.

Correct, it could never be you who had the privilege to wake up beside him everyday or have the chsnce to call him yours. He would never see you as anything but some wounded creature he had saved from the brink of death. Certainly not worthy of courting the infamous Israel Hands. "Well-"

But before you could answer, Izzy caught sight of something. No, someone watching you both talk. Lucius. Fuck, he loathed that young man. He could not quite fathom what it was about the scribe that made his blood boil but just seeing him standing there, occasionally whispering something to Pete and smirking, as he cast a glance in your general direction, made Izzy see red.

Then it clicked. The oncoming storm. Of course. Those bastards. They knew of his past, thanks to Fang. No doubt they had told you the story too about how as a young sailor, he had not been able to keep down the contents of his stomach during a storm. Fuck, that nicknane too. You must have been revolted by him. Thought him completely and utterly pathetic. "-Look, whatever those twats have been saying, it's not true. I threw up one time-" Izzy began to defend himself, hoping it was not too late to salvage his reputation.

"-Oh, shit. No, I'm not referring to that. Fuck." you were quick to interrupt his rambling explanation. Sure, yeah, you knew the origin of his nickname, Izzy the Spewer but the story had not altered your opinion of the pirate. So, he threw up! Big deal. So had you during your first storm, and no one had bothered to call you, (y/n) the vomiter. "I just know that, storms bring up a lot of memories for some of the crew." you further explained, hoping he woukd catch the underlying meaning behind your words. "If you catch my drift?"

It took a moment but then a flicker of understanding sparked within Izzy's eyes, as he fully understand your insinuation. "Ah."

"Yeah." you smiled meekly, hoping not to trigger any unwanted memories for the pirate. All you wanted was to assure him that, if he needed comfort, you would be more than willing to provide him with comfort and company until the rain ceased and the skies became agate blue once more. "Will...will you be okay? Tonight, that is."

He knew, somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down, that your asking after his wellbeing was not an attack on his character, that you did not view him as weak for what had happened those many moon cycles ago, when the Kraken had stole him of his leg. This was your way of saying, "Hey, I'm here for you. If you need me", right?

Wrong. The poisonous voice of reasoning whispered in his ear, reminding him not to bet soft and be so sentimental. Of course you pitied him. How coukd you not? He was a disgrace. A washed up has been of a legend, who could no longer ride the coat tails of Blackbeard anymore. You were not offering him anything in the way of kindness, you were just reminding him of yet another mistake in his checkered past.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his lips and it was too late to take them back. "I'm not a fucking child, (y/n)." Izzy almost winced at how hurt you looked, as you flinched at his sudden outburst. Each time- and unfortunately, there had been more than one occasion- your pained expression left a lasting scar upon his heart. A fresh wound of regret that bled out over and over again. He did not mean to be this way with you. It was a defence mechanism, not that was much of an excuse really. Izzy should have- no, he did know- better. His sharp tongue was going to drive you away one day and he would only have hinsekf to blame. What's done was done.

There was nothing he could do, except keep up the charade and retire quickly from sight. He did not have to glance in the direction of the crew to know that they had all played witness to the entire exchange. No doubt he would have to sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe Roach would just spit in his food like last time. "Finish your tea and go fucking check the rigging. That's an order."

"Yes, boss." only minutes earlier, that nickname had been fondly used, now it just felt bitter to the taste.

Without another word, the First Mate abandoned your side and disappeared below deck.

Under the guise of work, your friends had been watching the entire exchange through side eye glances or in Lucius's case, just straight up staring.

Though idle hands appeared busy, Pete had in fact, tied the same knot several times. It was important to get everything secured ahead of the storm but in that moment, his mind was distracted. Casting a glance at the love of his life, his suspicions were confirmed, Lucius felt the same way as him- completely and utterly livid on your behalf. "Yeah, you ain't winning that money back, mate." he muttered to a frozen in rage Wee John, who merely stood holding another barrel, looking like he was contemplating throwing it at Izzy.

"Fucks sake, what a dickhead." he hissed, seemingly deciding against the idea, as he placed it with a resounding thud upon the deck.

Lucius could not stand to see you looking so hurt, as you stared longingly after the bastard who had dared upset you. The scribe knew he always teased you about your intense crush on the First Mate but it was during moments like these, where he really had to question what it was that made you so smitten with Izzy the Spewer. The man was volatile and about as pleasant as a cup of cold sick. Worst of all, this was not the first time he had stormed off after saying something cruel, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your hurt emotions. "I'm gonna go and see if they're okay."

"Maybe give it a moment, babe. Look." Pete urged his partner to take pause and watch you down your drink.

Despite wanting to abandon his post and assume the role of comforting friend, Lucius instead watched as you fought back tears and climbed the rigging, towards the crow's nest, no doubt seeking some privacy away from the watchful eyes of your friends.

"He really is the fucking worst. I genuinely do not get why (y/n) likes him so much." Archie mused, as she wondered if it was possible to find a snake at sea and put it in the bastard's bed?

With all the mysticism of a Sea Witch, the conversation was quickly intercepted by Buttons, whom decided to impart a great wisdom upon those in his vicinity. "'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. Therefore, is winged cupid painted blind?'"

There was a pause, as the gathered crew ruminated on his words. Well, partially ruminated. Most just sat there, looking confused or proverbially scratching their heads, unsure what to make of his revelation. Not one to admit his lack of knowledge, Lucius made a conscientious effort to nod his head and pretend he had understood the poet musings of the fellow pirate. "Right, yeah. What he said. Makes total sense."

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