A/N: I am entirely overwhelmed by the amazing reponse I had to Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies, you guys are all phenomenal and I want to hug every one of you! It was requested that I write more in this universe and, while I fully intend on adding a sequel at some point, I thought this flashback series would be perfect to celebrate the wonderful killian-whump's birthday (really late, I"M SORRY!). A tremendous thank you to the fantastically patient icecubelotr44 for helping, pushing, comforting, betaing, and otherwise friending this little story along.

WARNING: There will be extreme violence, torture, blood, and gore, so please do not read if that bothers you. A brief summary of what will happen here is outlined in Chapter 6 of Secrets and Spies, Truths and Lies, so check there first if you aren't sure.

Chapter One

Killian woke in darkness to the feeling of movement beneath him, vibrations of an engine and tires bumping across a dirt road rumbling through his exhausted body. He was tired, groggy, hadn't slept nearly enough, and he had no idea where the hell he was. He could still feel the bruises on his back and legs, where the local police force had been a little too overzealous with their batons earlier, along with the cold metal of handcuffs tightly pulling his wrists behind his back.

"He- hello?" he called out, his voice hoarse.

"Finally, you're up," he heard his brother's voice in the dark. "You all right, Killian?"

He took quick stock of his injuries, nothing new that he could feel, everything else minor enough. "Aye, you?"

"I'll be fine," Liam replied quietly.

He almost didn't want to ask the next question, but he had no choice. "Milah?"

A pause from his brother. "Not here," Liam said. "I haven't seen her since the flat."

No...

Killian sagged back against the wall of the vehicle, his arms pulling at his shoulders as he sat but he almost didn't feel it, a combination of worry and the leftover codeine still in his system. He had no idea who had them, who had grabbed them from their rented apartment in Kabul, and no clue what they wanted.

It was definitely not a good situation, especially with Milah gone.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, his memories of the last few hours hazy with the powerful drugs still in his system.

"They came into the flat, grabbed us, brought us to the van. I don't know where they took Milah, I couldn't see much." He could almost hear Liam's shrug in the dark. "Seems like the terrorist cell we were tracking, but I can't be certain."

Killian ran over the details of the case in his head, as much as he could remember without the file in front of him, a low-grade headache pounding steadily behind his eyes. MI6 hadn't been able to dig up very much on the group they'd been trying to find, and Killian's earlier attempts to get more information nearly landed him in the local prison with a mild concussion. Whoever they were, they were good at staying quiet, under the radar.

But now, to come out during the daylight hours and just grab them like that? It didn't make sense. Why now? Had they accidentally found more info than they realised? Maybe the cell panicked, grabbed them out of desperation, take Killian and company before MI6 could act first. But what would they be so worried about? To Killian's knowledge, they'd found next to nothing on either the members or the leaders, just the rough location in Afghanistan, and even that was still the subject of debate between him and his partner.

Milah.

His chest hurt with a sudden ache that had nothing to do with the bruises on his ribs. He needed to get to her, find her, before the terrorists got to her first.

He twisted his fingers until he could grasp the cold metal of the handcuffs, tried to feel for the keyholes, to think of something, anything, he could use to pick the locks. His belt was gone, must have been taken when they grabbed him while he was only semi-conscious, and he couldn't reach his shoes to tell if the laces were still intact. He'd used the hardened tips of the to pick locks before, it wasn't ideal and took far too much time, but maybe….

His fingers scraped his boot, his leg bent half-backward to reach. Killian felt the front of his shoe. No laces.

Great.

"I tried already," he heard his brother's voice across the darkened van. "Can't pick them."

Of course he had, Killian thought almost angrily. Of course his brother, practical and perfect, had thought of every possible escape route.

He sighed loudly, his head thumping against the wall of the van as he lay back. He closed his eyes. Didn't matter anyway, it was too dark to see anything. He stretched out his legs, his foot bumping into his brother's. It took conscious effort not to jerk his foot away.

"I'm sorry," Liam whispered, almost inaudible over the roar of the engine, the vibration of the cab. "I couldn't stop them, I'm so sorry."

Killian let out another breath, slowly, deliberately.

"I know," he said, hiding any sign of anger from his voice. "Not your fault." It wasn't Liam's fault they were in this mess, he knew that perfectly well. So why the hell was he so mad at his brother?

Frustration clawed through him, the lack of movement, the confined space closing in on him. He'd never been claustrophobic before, but he couldn't shake the need to get out, get free, to do something. Milah was out there, somewhere, alone without them, without him, and he needed to get to her, make sure she was okay.

"We'll find her," Liam said softly. "No matter what happens, I'll make sure of it somehow. We'll find her, Killian."

"I hope you're right," he answered groggily, the effects of the drugs still tugging at his eyelids. He shook his head. Couldn't let himself fall asleep, not now, not with everything at stake, some unknown threat. He'd heard that adrenaline in response to fear could push the medicine through a body faster, help get it out quicker, but it seemed to be doing no such thing for him. He yawned as silently as he could, trying to hold his mouth closed tightly.

Liam knew, he always knew.

"Rest, brother. I'll wake you if anything happens."

Killian nodded, knowing Liam couldn't see, but it was more for himself anyway. They had been captured, taken, and there was nothing he could do but try to catch up on the sleep his body seemed to need.

He dropped his head against the wall of the van and was asleep before he knew it.

He woke later to Liam kicking him in the leg, hard.

"Wake up!" his brother hissed in the dark.

Killian stretched out as much as he could, tried to work out the kinks that had developed in his neck and shoulders from having his arms twisted behind him. He wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but it definitely wasn't enough. He could feel the van slowing, the ground rougher than it had been the last time he was awake, and he only hoped he had enough energy for whatever unknown enemy they'd have to face.

The vehicle came to a stop, and he wasn't sure if he was terrified or grateful. He hid both as he listened to the noises outside. A few people got out, muffled voices speaking Arabic was all he could hear, nothing he could make out clearly through the walls of the van. Heavy boots crunched on dry rocks, approaching the rear doors, the sound of keys in a lock, a grating of metal as the handle turned and the doors swung open.

Bright light stung Killian's eyes. He blinked hard, twisting his head to the side to escape the late afternoon sunshine pouring into the open doors of the van. He didn't get the chance for his eyes to adjust before he felt rough hands grab his arms and pull him from the vehicle. His feet landed heavily on the rocky desert ground, his boots sending up quick puffs of orange dust as he tried to remain standing.

He felt Liam behind him before his eyes had fully opened, heard him take a step until he stood next to him, arm to arm. Killian straightened just a bit, his vision clear enough to take in the three other men, their weapons, and the desolate desert area surrounding them on all sides, a small house just a few yards away the only structure in sight. He felt any semblance of hope he'd managed to scrape together on the ride disappear, evaporate into the desert sun until there was nothing left.

There was no way out. Not this time, not even with Liam at his side, not without knowing where Milah was.

Well, at least he could try his best to find her.

"Where's Milah?" Killian bit out at the men.

No response.

He tried again, a little louder. "Where's Milah?"

One of the men glared at him but didn't say a word.

"Ayna Milah?" he tried in Arabic, staring directly into the man's eyes.

He didn't see the blow until it was too late, the butt of another man's rifle slamming hard into his stomach from the other side. Killian coughed out a breath, the air forced from his lungs as he bent forward, his arms pulling tightly behind his back, but he managed not to fall. He tried to catch his breath. "Where's Milah?" he wheezed out, still hunched over.

The large gun struck him again, this time in his side. He grunted, staggered into Liam, but stayed on his feet.

"Where's-" he started again, until Liam's foot stomped on top of his.

"Shut up, Killian," he hissed quietly, directly in his ear. "Not now."

Killian looked up at his brother, the hard line of his mouth, the firmness in his eyes, and he fell silent. Without a word, one of the men grabbed Liam's arm and tugged him into the house, Killian led just a few paces behind his brother flanked by the other two.

They were pushed into a small room ten feet inside the front door of the building, the heavy metal door scraping shut behind them, the sound of a bolt sliding across, the men on the other side. Locked in. Killian looked around, his brother doing the same beside him. A tiny window high in one wall - too small for either of them to fit through, barely a hand's width across - was the only source of light in the room. There was no way to climb up, even if they could fit through. The room was bare, aside from a bucket half-filled with stale water and a pile of rotten food beside it.

Killian leaned against a wall, stretching his arms down his back as far as he could. He sank slowly to the floor, the wall at his back, as he wriggled in the handcuffs. Liam sat across from him. He heard his brother let out a long breath, but neither of them wanted to be the first to talk.

It didn't really matter to Killian, he was too busy concentrating on the metal cuffs around his wrists. He twisted one leg up, through the loop of his arms, then the other, and in a minute his hands were in front of him. Still locked inside the metal restraints, but at least it wasn't pulling on his shoulders anymore. And now he could take a look at the lock, see if there was anything he could use to pick it open.

Not like there was anywhere to go anyway, even if they could find a way out. He'd seen the landscape, at least fifty miles of open desert surrounding them. How far could he get anyway, could he and Liam get together, before someone noticed they were missing and came after them? It was a waste of time to even try, but he couldn't help it. He had to do something to keep from going crazy.

"I'm sorry," he heard his brother's voice from across the room. Soft, quiet, sincere. "This is all my fault."

"It's not, okay?" Killian replied, squinting at the handcuffs and the tiny lock built inside. "Now shut up and help me find a way to get these things off." He stifled another yawn, angry that he was still so damn tired despite everything that was happening to them.

"Can't pick these, Killian. I told you that in the van."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to just give up," he growled back, with more bite than he'd intended. He sighed quietly, the chain of the cuffs clinking as he dropped his hands to his lap. "Look, I just... I'm sorry. I can't sit here and wait, I can't."

"I know," Liam murmured. "I know that."

"And with Milah out there, somewhere… I shouldn't have brought her here, I shouldn't have taken this mission with her, not here, not with these dangers."

"You couldn't have known this would happen," Liam said harshly. "Don't blame yourself, she knew the risks, same as you."

Killian stared hard at his brother. "So you can take all the blame and I can't? Is that how it works?"

"Yeah," Liam smiled, actually smiled back. "That's exactly how it works. I'm your superior, I shouldn't have allowed you to come here at all, not just her. Risks outweighed the information we had, the mission shouldn't have been approved."

He wasn't smiling anymore.

"Liam…"

Liam shook his head. "No point in playing this game, brother." He lifted his head, fixed some semblance of grim determination on his face instead of the heavy guilt Killian had glimpsed just a moment before. "We can point fingers all day. The question is, what do we do now? You're the tactical expert, and you've had more field experience than me. Any ideas besides trying to pick the unpickable handcuffs?"

Killian waited a minute before replying. The leftover drugs in his system were wreaking havoc with his emotions, furious one minute, terrified the next, and he needed everything to just stop for a minute so he could think, categorise, come up with a strategy. He looked around the room again, taking in details he hadn't noticed before. The peeling paint off the cement walls. The stains in the far corners that he didn't want to think about too hard. The dried streaks of burgundy in different areas on the floor that he definitely tried to ignore. Ceiling too high, window too small, no food, no drinkable water, nothing else in the room besides themselves. His gaze wandered back to his hands, cuffed in front of him, and then across the small room to his brother.

He shook his head. "I can't think of anything."

Liam offered him a brief smile. "You will. And if not, they'll come back soon enough, give us a better idea of who's got us and why, maybe catch them making a mistake."

Killian nodded silently.

Across the room, in the slowly darkening light, Liam closed his eyes. He rested his head back against the wall, his tense posture relaxing somewhat.

"Rest, Killian," he said quietly. "I have a feeling we'll need it."

"Aye."

They settled against their respective walls. A thousand thoughts ran through Killian's head, aborted plans, terrible ideas, worse visions of whatever was happening to Milah, wherever she was. He squeezed his eyes shut, forced his breaths to even out, and let the weight of his exhaustion drag him under the darkness.

Liam closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep. He heard Killian's breathing turn shallow and even, familiar even in this hellhole. Soon he was certain his brother was asleep.

Good, he thought. He needed it. He knew Killian was hiding the bruises from earlier, why the hell his brother had to piss off the local police force was beyond him. They had been desperate, chasing any lead they could find, but it was no excuse to be so reckless, especially in a place they'd never been before.

Liam knew there was a British Army base somewhere outside Kabul. They'd made arrangements with the officers there in case of emergency.

He'd had no idea they'd need backup so soon.

He watched Killian sleep as the sun went down. He couldn't help the notes of guilt that crept into his chest. He'd just told Killian not to play the blame game, but he knew it was fully his fault. He was Killian's superior - Milah's too. He shouldn't have let them come here, should have ignored Killian's pleas to use the opportunity to test a new facet of the program he'd just helped design for the security agency.

It wasn't worth it, he knew, knew now, but hadn't said a word. He should have shut the whole thing down, especially after Killian's run-in with the local cops. He should have recognised the greater exposure, the greater danger. He should have seen this coming.

His baby brother, his only family, the boy he'd mostly raised on his own, had always relied on Liam to keep him safe, and this was no exception. Liam had failed, spectacularly, and now he had no idea if he could protect Killian in all this.

Liam rested his head against the wall, his eyes still trained on his brother's sleeping form on the far side of the room, and let out a sigh. Whatever was coming, he knew it wasn't going to be pleasant, for either of them. He needed his strength, to get some rest, especially without knowing when they'd next get a chance to take a breather.

With another slow release of air, Liam closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come.