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arsenicflame · 7 months ago

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It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return.

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug.

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

#i feel like the little paragraph about the crew is real clunky and out of place but i wanted some kind of establishment of where those #dynamics are at. its important that the crew is something for izzy to consider in his decision; but also that their relationship isnt so #solid he would stay for them alone; yknow?#im sorta aiming for a s2e5 era but like. early in those themes. he cant be all sorted yet i need him to be struggling #anyway this is part of a much larger scenario in my head that im never ever doing anything with but i wrote THIS bit in a daze in like. jun #and i got thinking about it again and i think?? it holds its own as a 'hey think about THIS' snippet. idk you decide #youre welcome to interpret this as solo bellhands but in my head it Has morphed into sam/izzy/ed/stede #because i cant not put edizzy in things any more. izzy has two hands #i also think the comedy potential of one of your boyfriends HATING your other boyfriend is gold. 10/10 dynamic #stede is mostly along for the ride in this but also i think they need him #aaaaand. the sam/ed bracket i think can only be closed in exceptional circumstances. i think they 'hate' each other too much #...which is WHY someones getting kidnapped!!! yay #anyway its all irrelevant because ill never write it out. i can do silly chill things but thatll require work #nyxtalks #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #israel hands #sam bellamy #bellhands #i wanna also say. the general concept of repeated sam proposals has been floating around my head forever #it used to be a more silly thing like i referenced at the start but. s2 gave me angsty feelings i guess #i cant not have izzy have feelings for ed right now which inherently adds layers to Any bellhands scenarios i think.#but yeah. its a Classic Bellhands vibe for me. sam seeing izzy at sea or on shore and asking him to marry him (again)#i like to do this with jackie too. i think i just want that man to be obnoxiously desired #(theres also layers of my personal hornigold era lore built into this but i hope it holds up without u knowing it. tldr. sam lost izzy by #being an idiot n fumbling the bag. thats what matters. izzy went with ed and sams been trying to fix it ever since)#i probably should have readmore'd this but i didnt think it was Quite long enough. or had a good break point. sorry <3

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broareweabouttoviberightnow · 4 months ago

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"We need cash." Two, Soda, Steve, Dallas, Pony, 'n Johnny crowd the living room in a loose circle like mourners at a funeral. Between them, the shattered, stacked, 'n swept together corpse of what had once been their TV.

"We? Ain't my fault it's broken." Dallas kicks at a shard of glass 'n Pony narrows his eyes at him. "Blame it on the kid 'n call it a night."

"Hey!" Pony stomps a foot before he can catch himself, crosses his arms. "It wasn't me!"

Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes. Pony's face darkens murderously. "Was too."

"No, it was not! You were the one who fuckin' threw me!" Soda 'n Two's eyes ping pong back 'n fourth between the two of them.

"Did not! 'N if I did it was only 'cause you started the fight."

"Bullshit!" Pony's voice hits a shrill high note 'n Steve smirks at him, self-satisfied. "I only started it 'cause you were fuckin' callin' me names you asshole."

"Well, I wouldn't have been callin' you names if you hadn't been actin' like a brat." Pony lets out an indignant wail 'n Soda has to fly across the group to snag him by the waist so he doesn't start right back up again.

"Ok, ok. Enough you two." Pony writhes around like a fish on a hook for another moment before Soda jabs him in the ribs 'n he howls but stops fightin'. "This isn't solvin' our problems."

"I don't see how this is an us problem." Dallas tries again, hooks an arm around Johnny's shoulder 'n pulls him close. "I just got here, Johnny wasn't involved, 'n neither was Two. Soda bites the bullet for not stoppin' 'em 'n Darry can string the idiots up as he so pleases. What's the problem?"

Steve 'n Pony both turn on him, united for the first time that afternoon, fingers pointed 'n accusin'. "'Cause Two was bettin' on us-"

"Hey! Look, all's fair 'n love 'n war or whatever they say. Nobody asked ya to start rumblin' in the livin' room of all places."

"Yeah, 'n Darry'll love to hear that." Steve grabs his hip, wags a finger in a pretty damn passin' imitation of Darry. "Two-Bit Mathews you're how old now? Glory God almighty when are you gonna get any sense- OW!" Steve hollers at the comic Two's rolled up 'n thumped him over the head with.

"Ok, Ok fine. But I wasn't fuckin' bettin' against myself!" Two glares pointedly at Soda who rocks back 'n forth on his heels, suddenly findin' the floor real interestin'.

"Soda!" Steve stops nursin' his head to glare at Soda with wide eyes.

"Hey! Look! I'm sorry!" He blinks, tries his best tip-earnin' grin. "It was all on you, Stevie."

"SODA!" Pony whips on him quick as quick, quiverin' with as much indignance 'n outrage a fourteen-year-old can manage. Soda swallows back a snort, grabs Pony's face in his hands. "I'm sorry-"

"Well. Tough shit for y'all. But I don't see what this has to do with me or Johnny 'n I'm of the mind to beat it before Darry gets home 'n raises hell."

"Uh, Dal." Johnny clears his throat 'n tries to ignore the pointed stares of the rest of the gang hot on his face, runs a hand up the back of his neck, blows out a long breath. "IhadfiftycentsonPonyboy."

"Johnny!" Dallas drops him but doesn't sound half as annoyed as he does impressed.

"Well at least someone was in my corner-" Pony shoots Soda an aggravated glance 'n Soda throws his hands up placatingly.

"Yeah, speakin' of which." Two whips his hand out, palm up, 'n makes a grabbin' motion. Both Soda 'n Johnny huff but reach in their pockets 'n pull out quarters, dumpin' into Two's waitin' hands. He hoots his laughter 'n shoves the dollars' worth of change into his pants.

"Wait, who were you bettin' on Two?" Steve crosses his arms at the same time Pony plunks his hands on his hips, both glarin' accusingly.

"Me? I wasn't playin' for neither of ya! I bet y'all were gonna break somethin'!" Two cracks himself up, howlin'. It doesn't last for long 'n Pony 'n Steve turn succinctly on him, draggin' him down to the floor 'n landin' jabs wherever they can reach.

"Good lord. Well, y'all have fun with that one. I'm peelin' outta here."

"Oh no you don't." Soda catches one hand deftly in the collar of Dallas' jacket as he turns to leave, hefts him back. "You even think about wormin' outta this I'll tell Darry about that time you smoked all that pot 'n threw up 'n I had to carry a bowl a soup down to Buck's for your scrawny ass."

"Yeah, or that time you got picked up for shopliftin' 'n when the cops called I picked up the phone 'n never told Dar." Steve pauses in his onslaught of Two-Bit to throw his hat in the ring. The moment he's not focused Two wriggles out, flips him easily onto his back.

"Or that one time with Tim-"

"OK. Goddamn! No wonder Darry's goin' grey. Y'all are enough to send a man to an early grave." Dallas scowls 'n throw his hands up, shakin' Soda off. "So what now?"

"Now we need cash." Two says plaintively 'n they all stare down at the wreckage again.

"Ok. Thanks, genius." Steve rolls his eyes, clambers back to his feet, offers Pony his hand 'n hauls him up. "What are we lookin' at here? Like what? Twenty bucks?"

"Twenty bucks? Steve, what world do you live on where a TV is twenty goddamn bucks?" Dallas toes at the the box 'n it sparks. "Jesus Christ, none of you unplugged it? Hurry up 'n yank the plug out before we gotta by Dar a new house too."

Both Soda 'n Johnny dive for the cord 'n Johnny pulls up at the last second so they don't crack their heads together.

"So what, like fifty?" Pony 'n Soda exchange a glance, avert their eyes.

"Uh, try more like eighty, man." Soda plops down on his ass, looks desolately at the hunk of plastic 'n glass again.

"EIGHTY? Guys. We're dead. More than dead. Dar's gonna kill us, bury us, 'n then dig us back up again." Steve chews at his thumbnail, paces quick back 'n forth.

"Naw, Steve. Be realistic." Two grins, stuffs his hands into his pockets. "He'd never go through all that work for us. I think just killin' us the first time around'll do it."

Pony groans, presses both his palms into his eyes 'n collapses back into the armchair. "Not funny, Two."

"Aw, not even a lil-" He's cut off by the throw pillow Steve beams at his head, hittin' him square in the face.

"Man focus. We got cash, right?" Dallas refocuses the room, looks at them each in turn. The silence is answer enough, the celin', floor, 'n walls becomin' real fascinatin'. "Man, y'all've got to be jokin'. Steve, don't you have some money from the DX or your da put away?"

"Uh, well, no. Not really. Kinda, uh, lost it. All." He twiddles the bottom of his vest between his fingers, refuses to look up.

"Whatta ya mean lost it?"

"Look you lose one goddamn drag 'n suddenly everyone's crawlin' up your ass! How was I supposed to know that? 'N hey, what about you, Two? I don't hear you offerin' anythin' up."

"Ha! What money? I didn't have anythin' to start with don't look at me. Ask Soda, he's employed."

Soda throws his hands up guiltily. "Don't look over here. I got six bucks to my good name."

"Yeah, good 'n broke-" Soda pulls a face 'n kicks Dallas hard in the shin before he can duck outta the way.

"Where'd your paycheck go, Soda?" Johnny prods at him with his foot 'n Soda playfully catches it, yanks at him.

"Hey, I keep the lights on in this place!"

"And the rest of it?" Johnny pulls back 'n, when he realizes Soda ain't lettin' up, reaches down to jab at the ticklish spot on Soda's ribs.

"What? A man can't be afforded a lil' fun?" Soda yowls 'n drops his foot, wrigglin' backwards to get away. "How was I supposed to know a guitar was twenty-five bucks?"

"Soda!" Pony's jaw drops open. "You can't even play!"

"Hey! Yet! Gimme some credit! Plus I don't wanna hear anythin' from mister no job over there." Soda crosses his arms dramatically but he's grinnin' the whole way 'n all of them know he doesn't mean it.

"That ain't fair! Darry won't let me get a job. 'Course I don't got no goddamn money. Look at Dal. He's got a job!"

"First of all, I didn't even break the fuckin' TV. Second of all, how much money I got is none of your damn business." Dallas scowls, turns his nose up. Steve groans, drops down to the couch with his head in his hands.

"God so we're all broke."

"Hey-!"

"Shut up, Dal." Two cuts him off 'n Dallas' shifts his glare, damn near murderous. "Johnny Cakes?" He tries, weakly hopeful.

"Uh, I got three bucks." Soda quirks an eyebrow up 'n Johnny plops his hands on his hips.

"Where did you-"

"Ya gonna ask questions or are ya gonna take it?" Soda studies him for a moment, arms crossed still 'n doin' a cartoonish impression of a fussin' hen.

"Boys, we got a real hood among us here today." He hoots 'n Johnny kicks him in the hip, both of them still howlin'. "So that brings us up to, what?"

"Uh, nine bucks. Ten if someone can wrestle that change outta Two's pocket." Pony leans forward, elbows on his knees, 'n sizes Two up like he stood even a single chance.

"Man. I want lillies at my funeral. Can I put that out there? Should we do last rites now or-"

"Aw, hush up, Steve. Look, we just gotta scrape together a little money before Dar gets back. We can get, uh, what was it?" Soda frowns, counts absently on his fingers.

"Seventy more bucks." Pony dead pans 'n Soda's self-assured smile wavers a bit.

"C'mon, that's nothin'! We just gotta put our heads together." Soda climbs to his feet, rubs his hands together in thought. "How do we get our hands on some quick cash?"

Dallas 'n Two open their mouths 'n Soda throws out an accusin' finger to each of them. "'N nobody's doin' nothin' illegal 'cause if Dar has to pick one of us from the station before he comes home to no TV he's gonna start inventin' cruel 'n unusual punishments, y'hear?"

Dallas rolls his eyes 'n mutters 'n Two nods absently in agreement but they both don't offer any other ideas. "Anythin' else?"

"Uh, pawn shop?" Pony offers.

"Yeah, great idea, Pone. Anyone have any expensive jewelry they've been keepin' back?" Steve drawls, dryly, apparently resigned to his fate.

"Well, it ain't mine but I got, uh, a Singer we could sell." Dallas leans back in the doorway, waits for the onslaught of questions. They don't disappoint.

"A Singer? Dal, you've been watchin' me hafta hand hem 'n you had a Singer?" Soda howls, goes to kick him in the shin again but Dallas is prepared this time 'n dodges it.

"Where the hell did you get a Singer-?"

"Why-?"

"Look! It was Sylvie's, right? When I kicked her out she didn't get the chance to take it or nothin'. It ain't mine." He throws his hands up defensively, eyes Soda still standin' close enough to wallop him if he decided to. Soda glares back like he's still makin' up his mind about goin' for round two.

"Aw, man. We can't pawn off Sylvie's stuff." Johnny backs outta the way as Soda decides to give it another go 'n jabs at Dallas. "She mighta been a lil' mean but she don't deserve to have her shit sold off."

"The bitch- Soda get offa me- two-timed me? Remember?" Dallas knocks Soda's hands deftly away 'n Soda sneaks in on more solid kick before retreatin'.

"Oh, yeah." Johnny rocks back 'n forth on his heels, still clearly uncomfortable with the whole idea.

"Maybe Soda 'n Steve could pick up some extra shifts for a bit?" Pony tries again, clearly not as willin' as Steve to lie down 'n take his medicine.

"Yeah, another winner, Pone. 'N when Darry comes home to no TV tonight?" Steve scowls at him 'n Pony glares back, the two still dangerously close to another all-out scrap.

"Well, at least I'm comin' up with somethin'."

"Doesn't help if it's all stupid-"

"Alright you two, knock it off. We can't afford to have to buy anythin' else y'all broke 'cause y'all can't keep your traps shut." Two cuts in 'n they both round on him, glarin'.

"Look who's talkin'!" Steve mutters 'n Two grins 'n flips him off.

The laughter 'n bickerin' trail off, lapsin' into silence again. Each lookin' guiltily at the disaster, eyein' each other. "Well, uh, is anyone not above beggin'?" No one says anythin' 'n Two clicks his teeth, nods. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Hey, guys." Six heads turn to look at Pony, suddenly ashen 'n lookin' past them up at the clock in the kitchen. "Is this a bad time to tell y'all Dar told me to tell y'all he'd be home early this afternoon?"

"Pony." Steve flies to his feet, grabs Pony by his shoulders. "How early?"

Somehow, Pony manages to pale even further. "Uh. In like. An hour?"

As if it had heard, the TV hisses, flashes, lets out one final death rattle 'n falls silent so it's just the seven of them, eyein' each other like men at the gallows.

"Dallas?" Johnny gives himself a shake, grabs his jacket from the back of the sofa.

"Yeah, man?"

"Let's get your girlfriend's stuff."

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