#this should not have taken me this long to write jiminy criminy

[izzyhandswhore]

Thinking abt season 2 Izzy x Reader where after everything w Izzy’s leg Reader will sneak down into his room and just comfort him and hold him, just coddle him a bit bc he deserves it<//3

((I too am thinking about this :) Don’t ask me what’s going on with the format bcs I have no idea))

Comforting Izzy in Season Two, pre-Unicorn.

• It starts with you and the crew watching as Izzy painfully and drunkenly crawls down the corridor after sawing the unicorn’s legs off. It shatters your already broken heart to see him suffering like this, but you know any attempts to follow him would be futile. Then you feel the eyes of the crew burn into you next and white hot shame rubs through you. You should know what to do, you know Izzy better than almost anyone, you’re the one he lets in and cares about.. Or you were. With tears in your eyes, you simply walk away.

• You can’t sleep that night. You and the crew have started construction on Izzy’s new leg but your anxiety prevents you from being excited. What if he hates you it? What if you get it wrong again? Heart hammering, you get up. You can’t take it anymore, you just need to see him.

• Before you can even knock on his door you can hear him talking to himself. He’s drunk, obviously, slurring his words and cursing himself and Ed and the sea and any other poor fucker he can think of.. Though notably, you’re not included in his hit list. Knocking on the door just earns you a “fuck off!” but you persist. “Izzy, it’s me,” you call quietly. Silence follows. You let yourself in.

• The stench of alcohol hits you like a ton of bricks but you don’t care. You only care about the haggard, broken man who’s sat on the bed, glaring at you, swaying slightly despite the sea being calm. You start to approach. “Thought I told you to fuck off,” he spits, stopping you in your tracks. You only have to give him a stern look to take the wind from his sails. He averts his eyes like a naughty schoolboy and mutters, “what d’ya want?”

• You’ve brought him some warm water and a washcloth along with a few other supplies. He protests a little at first but eventually lets you strip him of his dirty clothes and gently wash away the grime he’s let build up. He closes his eyes and leans against the wall, head lolling a little as he focuses on your warm, gentle touch rather than his aching body for a bit. In his drunken haze he thinks about how much he’s missed this, how much he’s missed you. The words just won’t string together and come out somehow, making him feel more ashamed. He was supposed to be the one taking care of you, not the other way round.. Just how the fuck did it come to this?

• When you reach his leg he snaps to attention and grabs your wrist, holding it tight. You look up at him expecting anger but instead you just find shame.

“Don’t,” he grunts, “you don’t have to touch it.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” you assure him, “but it might be good to just check it’s alright.. You know, after you fell earlier.”

He scoffs and automatically reaches for the rum again, letting go of your wrist. “Bet the crew fucking loved that..” he mutters, earning another sad look from you.

“They’re worried about you,” you tell him, “everything you did for them hasn’t gone unnoticed, you know. Everyone knows how much they owe to you, how much you - you sacrificed.”

A heavy silence falls over the room once more as he processes the information and you do your best not to get emotional. You can’t even imagine what Izzy’s going through, what happened between him and Ed behind closed doors.. You focus on carefully unwrapping the bandages around what’s left of his leg. A couple of stitches have split and are crusted with blood, but it’s nothing serious. You get to work cleaning and redressing everything. Izzy doesn’t even flinch. Whether he’s numbed by the alcohol or exhaustion, you’re not quite sure.

• When you’re finally done you pull back and dare to smile at him. You ask if he’s feeling a bit better and, though he sneers at first, he eventually nods and admits that he does. You even get a thank you.

• Then comes the awkward part. You and Izzy haven’t slept in the same bed together since Stede abandoned Ed. You want more than anything for things to go back to normal but you know that’s probably a long way off. You point out the obvious.

“You should sleep, Iz.”

He laughs and holds up the near-empty rum bottle. “I will,” he says, “eventually.”

You bite back a sarcastic comment and just sigh, pulling back the blanket and fluffing the pillow, willing to play this little pantomime for as long as he’ll let you. He grumbles something about you not being his fucking mother, but there’s no venom in it. He lets you guide him under the covers and finally put the bottle down. You perch on the edge of the bed, knowing now you really should leave, but you just can’t. You need to find any excuse, any reason to stay just that bit longer. Just when you’re about to give one, he reaches out and gently holds your hand.

“It hasn’t escaped my notice either,” he murmurs, eyes glassy and sincere, “how much you’ve done for me. Even before all this shit, back when we first met Bonnet, I -“ His voice breaks. “I was a fucking dick. And you stood up for me and I - “ He’s getting worked up now, shaking you to your core. You’ve never seen him like this. “I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t know Ed - “

“Shh..” You hush him, squeezing his hand, “you are not responsible for that man’s actions, Iz. At all.” Anger seeps into your voice before you can stop it. “You didn’t deserve to be hurt like this.”

He just stares at you, his chest heaving with sobs that he refuses to let out.

You decide you don’t care to hesitate anymore. You kick off your boots and slide in beside him, taking him in your arms where he belongs. He doesn’t protest and just quietly cries into your shoulder, clinging to your shirt like it’s a lifeline. You stroke back his damp hair and pepper kisses along his forehead, assuring him over and over again that it’s all okay. No one’s ever going to hurt him like that again because you won’t fucking let them. You both know that in the life of piracy promises like that are fragile, but right now neither of you care. This is the safest he’s felt in a long, long time and he doesn’t have the strength to pass it up. Eventually his sobs dissolve to quiet sniffles and you feel his body start to relax against yours.

“You don’t have to stay,” he whispers.

You just smile and hold him even tighter.

“I know.”