There was three words in the English language that Liam Jones detested more than anything else in the world; why, good form and bad form. The three most commonly uttered phrases by his little shadow of a brother who found reason to question everything, anything and anyone.

"Hurry up would you?" Liam asked irate. He stood at the edge of the docks were His Royal Highness ships were docked. In the masses his little brother was darting and dodging as he scurried through people, uttering an apology as he went. For a street urchin the kid had very polite manners. Killian darted the rest of the way towards him standing by his side. He was truly a tiny scrawny little thing with gaunt cheeks, a diving board bony body and pants that hung loosely from his tiny hips.

His eyes bright blue as ever gazed up at Liam and sincerely uttered his apology. He ducked his head and his black shaggy hair fell into his eyes. When he did that he looked much more like an innocent woodland creature and it was that look that melted the people into giving up scraps of extra bread or a few coins here or there. Begging was not an easy task, a shaming one at that, but it was all they could do. Their mother died when Killian was an infant and their father left them many years ago without a parcel of food or any money.

"It's alright. Just try and keep up with me next time," Liam gripped his shoulders as he knelt down so that his little brother's face was just above his own. "I can't, I won't lose you." Killian hesitantly met his glance and Liam continued, "we're going to ask the ship captain's for a place aboard their ship. Now we must lie-

"But lying is bad form."

Liam gritted his teeth together and said, "We have too. You're a bit too young to work on the ship. Just let me do all of the talking."

The soldiers were a bit menacing to look at it. Grunting and yelling at one another in a vernacular known only to sailors. A few of the words Liam sort of could recall from the short lived travels their father had taken them on. Killian followed behind him starring in awe at the tall masts of the ships. Despite his claims that he could remember living on a ship, he was much too little to be able to actually remember anything. In a way it was a both a curse and a blessing.

Liam's stomach clenched painfully as he approached one of the soldiers. Heaving in a deep breath and a steadier voice than he expected asked, "my brother and I would like to work as Cabin boys for His Highness' Royal Navy."

The officer was perhaps in his forties with sandy blonde hair streaked with red. His eyes were a friendly hazel color and he had a warm smile upon his face when he turned to face them, "how old is your brother?"

Liam hesitated for a second before giving an answer, "thirteen going on fourteen." It was a complete lie. Killian was barely eleven and he could pass for maybe about nine years old. The officer stared dubiously at him and raised one of his eyebrows, "you, you're old enough to be a cabin boy." His eyes darted to Killian who was partially trying to hid himself behind Liam, "as for him he's just a child. A ship is no place for a child."

"We've lived on a ship before!" Killian piped up nodding his head enthusiastically, "Father took us on a ship."

The Captain looked to Liam for the truth in the statement who nodded uncertain where his brother was going with this.

"And who is your father?"

"Davy Jones."

Liam felt the heat rise to his cheeks and his stomach drop. The name was synonymous for treason and thievery, all things not honored by the Navy. The officer at first looked quite dumbfounded, his thin eyebrows knitting together, disappearing underneath his odd hat before realization drew across his face. "You're Jones' sons?"

"Aye, Liam and Killian Jones sir," Killian replied doing a slight salute which made the man give a hearty chuckle.

"And your mama was Geneva?"

The mention of their mother was odd and Killian looked to him for confirmation. Memories of Geneva had become blurred in his mind over the years, she had a kind round face, and big blue eyes like Killian's and curly brown hair like his, and always smelt of lavender.

"Your Papa was a bastard." The officer stated bluntly. "But your mama was a lovely sweetheart who got herself involved with a rotten to the core man. I'd do anything for her, and I would love to do anything for her boys but you're just too young."

"He's a good worker." Liam vouched earnestly. "He'll do anything you ask of him. And I'll do whatever he can't."

"Sorry boys."

Crestfallen and disappointed Liam offered his hand to his brother. Bony fingers entangled around his, loosely holding them. It seemed they were doomed to another few years of living off the streets and begging kindly strangers for any meager portion of food.

"Hold up you're not going to take the position er uhm-

"Liam. And no I'm not. I wouldn't leave my brother."

The officer sighed exasperated his shoulders slouching slightly. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat forming at his brow. "Alright, I'll take both of you. On a trial basis."

"Thank you. You won't regret it….,"

"You can call me Captain Everett."

Life aboard a ship was regimented, and much like life in the streets there was a strict hierarchy of men, and they were bottom of the chain. Their bed if one could call it that was a tiny hammock hastily tied in the middle of the main cabin room. Their pair had come up with many weird arrangements to try and sleep comfortably in it. None seemed to work where one could ever sleep or have an elbow digging into their gut. They alternated between sleeping on the wooden floor to sleeping on the cot, and neither was sure which was more uncomfortable.

The other sailors often snickered about them finding it necessary to sometimes shove into them or swipe a piece of biscuit off their plates, reminding Liam very much of life on the street. The kids who'd been living there the longest acted in a very similar manner, believing themselves to be entitled to whatever the younger urchins could scrounge up because they'd merely taught them where it was best to beg. The brothers tried their best to ignore it, it was futile to start any kind of confrontation, the sailors weren't children they were men.

The Captain was an aloof man who vouched for them many times. He told them stories about their mother and how their fathers wished for them to marry, discussing in great detail his love for Geneva. He'd describe her in great detail from her hair and the way it glistened in the moon's pale light to her toes, leaving nothing out. The way he spoke of her curves and bosoms made Liam cringe and Killian giggle at the odd word.

His sailing lessons began a few months after they'd been on the ship. The lieutenant was quiet, austere man with an odd accent who for the most part kept to himself at the helm of the ship. Matthias was his name and he instructed on the ways of navigation, star charts, mathematical equations, and sextants. He had book upon dusty leather book filled with various charts from various realms and lent them to Liam who'd spend hours in the dead of the night studying their contents by torch light or moonlight.

"You're a natural Jones." Matthias praised one night a year later. Half of his face was illuminated by the moon. His hawkish yellow eyes beamed down upon him and for the first time since Liam had began his lessons saw a natural smile. "Keep this up and one day you will be Captain."

"Really?" Liam inquired gripping tightly onto the wheel as he moved it two notches towards port to avoid hitting a rather large wave head on.

"Certainly," Matthias reassured. "You do plan to join the Navy as a sailor as soon as you're old enough right?"

"Yes as does my brother."

"I can never see young Killian as a Captain. He seems to be a better follow than a leader." Matthias thought aloud as he ambled towards the other side of Liam. "Guess it stems from following you his entire life."

A/N: Should I continue? Yay or Nay?