Emma hung up the phone in stunned silence. Brennan Jones was dead. One minute, alive at his desk. The next minute, dead. The aneurysm so sudden they couldn't even get him to the hospital.

She didn't know Brennan all that well. He was the father of her son's best friend. Emma wasn't one to get close to people, but they had developed a certain friendship over the years while dealing with the boys. Their teacher had called as soon as she'd heard, asking if Emma could be there when they broke the news to Liam. She said she hoped that having Emma there could bring some small amount of relief, if possible, to the boy.

Emma immediately agreed and headed over to the school, dreading what was to come. She released a few tears in the car, hoping her face would be clear by the time she saw Liam. Brennan was a kind man and good father, and she was sad that he had died. But her heart was breaking for the boy. Age ten was too young to lose your only parent and be forced to learn the realities of the world. She knew first hand how quickly this little boy was going to grow up.

When she arrived at the school, she was shown into the principal's conference room where a social worker along with the principal, were waiting for her. Emma was glad they had a few moments alone before Liam was brought in.

"What will happen with Liam now?" Emma asked, but already knew the answer.

"He'll be placed into foster care until we can track down any family. If we can track down any family."

Emma nodded. She never could have imagined that these were the circumstances her experience with the foster system would come in handy, but for once she was grateful.

"I'm actually registered as a foster mother. I don't currently have any children in my care. I never have. Just, I went through all of the screenings and was approved. Is there any chance that Liam could be placed with me?"

As a girl she'd always hoped that a nice family would come along and adopt her. But it never happened. She was just bounced from family to family. Some situations were better than others, but for the most part, she was miserable. It led her to vowing that when she was older she would make a home for another child. She'd started down the path, getting set up with the state. She always stopped just short of bringing another child into their lives. There was always an excuse. It wasn't a good time. Henry might feel jealous. Her job was too dangerous. No, it was better that it was just her and Henry.

But now she could only think of Liam, heading into who knows what kind of home. The little boy with the mop of black hair and the soulful blue eyes. The little boy who could make her laugh. The little boy who was the instigator of so much harmless mischief. No, Liam needed a home. She would not let the system get him. So now it would be her and Henry, and Liam. No matter what it took.

"We can try for that, but there are no guarantees. It's best if we don't mention the possibility to the boy until we know more for sure."

"What about tonight. Can he stay with me tonight? I don't want him alone, with people who don't know him, while he deals with losing his father."

The social worker agreed. "I think we can make that accommodation. It would be best for the boy to be with people he knows."

Emma nodded, and the door opened.

She knew by the look on Liam's face that he knew something terrible had happened. He was a smart boy. You weren't brought to the principal's office in the middle of the day for no reason.

"Emma, what are you doing here? What's wrong?" He was trying to hide his concern, but his voice was already starting to crack.

She went over and wrapped her arms around him, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

"Oh Liam, I'm so sorry." He looked up at her, with his big blue eyes, and she couldn't help the tears that started to fall. "Your dad died today." She didn't know what else to say. He wouldn't care right now that it was an aneurysm. She could feel the change in him as he heard the words he knew were coming. She felt him try to stifle the tears, and she felt his little body as it started to rack with sobbing when he failed. She closed her eyes, letting her own tears fall silently.

She continued to hold him; rubbing his back and smoothing his hair, doing anything she could think to soothe him, knowing none of it would do any good. This was the worst moment of this boy's life, and there was nothing she could do.

She just held him, waiting until his sobs quieted. She would hold him forever. Minutes passed, and he stopped shaking. Finally, he pulled away to look at Emma, his eyes full of questions. She led him to the chair at the table, sitting him down and passing the box of tissues to him.

Doing everything he could to steady his voice, he finally spoke. "What's going to happen to me, Emma?"

She knelt, looking him straight in the eye. "For tonight, you're staying with me and Henry. We can stay at your house, so you can sleep in your own bed, or you can have a sleepover at our house. It's up to you. After tonight, we're going to have a lot to figure out. I can't promise you anything, but I'm going to do whatever I can to keep you with me and Henry."

He burst into tears again, and she pulled him into her lap on the floor, letting him sob. They stayed in the room until school was out, Emma holding the boy, letting him grieve his father.

"Mr. Jones?"

"Yes."

"Mr. Killian Jones?"

"Speaking."

Killian had clearly said, "Killian Jones" when answering the phone. He was a bit annoyed at this man's need to confirm his identity before proceeding.

"This is Robert Gold. I'm the attorney handling your father's estate."

Killian Jones nearly hung up the phone. Instead, he stayed silent. His father had run out on the family 20 years earlier. Killian had never expected to hear anything from the man again. The lawyer took the silence as an invitation to continue.

"Your father died quite suddenly two days ago, and I've been looking through his affairs. There's a letter here that was directed to you and your older brother, Liam. I'm sorry to hear about your brother's death, but I would like to deliver the letter to you. There's actually quite a bit more to discuss, so it would be best if we could meet in person."

Killian wanted to tell the man to go to hell, and that he had no interest in anything that his father could have had to say, but he thought about Liam. That was not what he would have done. Liam would be the bigger man and go read the letter. He owed it to his brother to find out what their father had to say.

He looked at the picture of Liam on his desk, a reminder that he was somewhere watching over him.

"Well, brother, maybe we'll finally find out what happened to dear old Pop."

When Mr Gold arrived at the coffee shop and sat down at the table his first comment was on the younger man's appearance.

"Mr. Jones. I have to say you look quite like your father. I only met with him a few times, but you certainly favor him."

"Hopefully only in looks." Killian was in no mood for small talk.

Mr. Gold just nodded, and decided it was best to get down to business.

"The instructions were to let you read a letter he wrote to you and your brother, and then to discuss the particulars with you afterwards." He handed Killian the letter, and left to go order a coffee at the counter.

Killian stared at the envelope in his hands, seeing Liam and Killian scrawled across the front. He would have liked to open it at home, preferably after a few drinks, when he could scream and rant about the contents. But the lawyer's insistence that he be here to discuss it threw a wrench in that plan.

Like pulling off a bandaid, he ripped open the envelope.

Liam and Killian,

There is no apology I can make for leaving. There is nothing I could ever tell you that would be a good enough reason for my actions. I've regretted it every day of the rest of my life. I wanted to find you so many times, but was a coward. I was too scared to see you, and find out just what damage my absence may have done. I would have loved nothing more than to find you, and see you doing well for yourselves, with families of your own. Loving, and loved in return. But I did not deserve to see that.

Just as I don't deserve the life I have now. And if you're reading this letter, that life has been taken from me.

A few years after I left you, I met someone and we fell in love. We had a son. You have a half-brother. His mother has since died, and it's just been the two of us since he was a baby. And every day I've atoned for leaving you by being the best possible father I can to him. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. As proof, you can see it in his name, Liam Killian. I cannot look at him, call to him, or think of him without paying penance for the sin I committed.

If I am gone, he has no one in this world to look after him. Please help me to keep from abandoning another son. You owe me nothing. You owe him nothing. But he is your brother. He needs you.

(Your father) Brennan Jones

Killian put the letter down on the table, and stared blankly at the wall. He had not noticed the lawyer's return. There was too much to think about. For all that he said he didn't care why his father had left them, he was dissatisfied with the lack of explanation in the letter. He wanted answers. He wanted to know, finally, after all these years, why they had been left.

Instead of answers he got news of a brother. A brother who now needed to be taken care of. Brennan Jones leaving another son. Of course he was.

"So, Mr. Jones, now that you've read the letter we should discuss the specifics."

Killian shook himself, trying to focus on the conversation.

"The specifics. You mean my brother. How old is he? Where is he now?"

"He's ten, and staying with a friend. I believe the family is a registered foster family and they've been able to keep him from being processed into the system."

Killian was thankful for that.

"The details. Now, there's a good bit of money thanks to an insurance policy. Not a fortune, but enough to allow you to care for the boy without financial hardship."

That was a detail Killian could have done without. Killian didn't need money. The settlement from the accident that took both his hand and his brother had made sure that money would never be a concern. But Brennan had made sure, even with a sudden death, that this son was financially provided for. He and Liam on the other hand, were abandoned with barely a month's rent paid the day Liam turned 18.

"If you intend to take the boy…"

Killian cut him off.

"I do." There was no question in his mind that he would take the boy. He may end up regretting the rash decision every day for the rest of his life, but he would not let another Jones boy be left behind by Brennan Jones.

"Well, then there will be some legal work ahead for obtaining custody. I suggest you retain a lawyer."

"Where is he? My brother?

"I told you; he's staying with a friend."

"No, I mean, what state?

"Oh, right. He's here in Boston. It will be quite convenient. I can give you the social worker's information, and she can get you in touch with the family he's staying with to start setting up visitation until you get custody."

Everything in Killian wanted to break at that moment. Boston. His father had been in Boston the whole time. Filing that fact away for a time that he could deal with it, he handed the lawyer his card and told him to email him any information necessary and left.

Killian Jones threw the keys down on the counter and immediately poured himself a tumbler of rum. He looked around at the loft, noting that he'd need to find a new place. It was large, but outfitted perfectly for a bachelor lifestyle. Comfortable leather sofa in front of the latest, largest TV available. Bed tucked on the other side of a bookshelf. It was all he needed. He'd need to find a place where they could have their own rooms.

He'd lived a solitary life for the most part. There were friends, but just a few, and not close. After losing his brother, he briefly thought there was a woman with whom he could build a life. But like everyone else, she left him. Only this time it wasn't death. She went back to her husband, and son. He'd never have become involved if he knew.

Sitting on the couch he reread the letter. He used to wonder if he would feel anything if he ever heard from his father. He now had that answer. Anger. Feelings he'd managed to suppress for years came back as he thought of his adolescence. He was bitter over the hardships they faced, trying to survive on what little Liam could earn at age 18. Anger that Liam was forced to take over the role of provider. Liam gave up everything to ensure they wouldn't be separated. He was angry that Brennan had admitted he realized he was wrong, and didn't even try to find them. Anger that now he was once again dealing with the ramifications of his father's mistakes.

He hadn't even asked the lawyer how his father died. He wanted to assume it was of his own making. But there was a new son. A son that Brennan actually cared for, and wanted to make sure would be safe when he was gone. His death probably was not of his own fault or carelessness. No, new Liam got more from Brennan than that.

He put down his drink and scrubbed his hand over his face. New Liam. How could he welcome this boy into his home? He didn't know anything about children. There was his friend Robin's son, but he was 5, not 10. He couldn't use any of his experience with Roland to relate.

And the name? How could he look at this boy every day, and be reminded of what he lost. It had been his father's self-imposed penance, and yet now he was going to have to pay the price.

He wanted to pick up the phone and call the lawyer, to say he'd made a mistake. To tell whomever needed to know that he would not be taking the lad.

But he knew he couldn't. Somewhere out there was a boy who missed his father, and was scared. Killian knew all too well how that boy felt right now. Only that little boy didn't have Liam to take care of him. That little boy would have to make do with a poor substitute. And he hoped to God Liam would be proud of him.

It took a few days to set up but he was finally going to meet his brother. He'd exchanged a few emails with Emma Swan, the friend's mother, and had received a picture of the boy. There must have been none of his mother in him, because all he could see was the face of a Jones. Dark hair, strong jaw, blue eyes. He could have been Killian or Liam at that age.

They'd arranged to meet after school at a park she said he enjoyed. He was grateful for Emma Swan's emails. Without saying it expressly, she managed to convey that she knew he was in an unexpected position, and that she wanted to help. And he would need all the help he could get.

For the first time in years, Killian Jones was terrified.

What if Liam didn't like him? What if he didn't like Liam? What if he couldn't be the man the boy needed him to be? He tried to silence these fears as he approached the playground.

The day was a bit chilly, and the park not too busy. He spotted him instantly on his arrival, standing with a blonde woman and another boy about his age. He approached swiftly, just wanting to get it over with.

"Hello."

Liam turned to him.

"Hi."

The two Joneses stood silently, each sizing the other up. Emma decided to break the silence, making the absolutely unnecessary introductions.

"Killian, right?" He nodded. "Liam, this is Killian, your older brother. Killian, this is Liam, your little brother."

"Younger."

Killian stifled a laugh unsuccessfully. He could see the exasperation on the boy's face, ready to correct them all at being described as "little." It was a conversation he'd had with Liam more times than he could remember. "Yes, lad, younger brother."

"Where's your hand?"

"LIAM!" Emma Swan turned red in embarrassment, as though she were responsible for the words that had left Liam's mouth.

"No, Ms. Swan, it's fine." He turned to his younger brother. "I lost it a few years ago in an accident. It's fine now though."

"Are there scars? Can I see it?"

"LIAM." She admonished again, shaking her head. She should have known the missing appendage would spark Liam's curiosity.

He just laughed. "You know, I wear long sleeved shirts so I can cover up the scars. No one wants to see. You're the first person who's ever asked. Maybe later. Not when there are people around."

Emma took their exchange as a good sign.

"This is my son Henry. Knowing him, he'll probably want to see the scars too." Henry nodded enthusiastically. "It's a bit chillier than I expected. We thought we could walk over to the cafe and get some hot chocolate? There are some tables. I know Liam's looking forward to getting to know you."

Killian looked down at his brother, and back at the woman. He had been right. She wanted to make this easy on him.

Emma and Henry took a table just far enough away so that they couldn't hear, but close enough that Liam would feel comfortable with the stranger.

But Liam seemed completely at ease.

After the waitress took their orders, Liam turned with questions.

"Why didn't you and Dad talk?" And of course he went straight for the hardest.

"Did you love your father?" Liam nodded.

"I loved him too. But when I was eleven, and my, well our, older brother Liam was eighteen, he left us. One morning we woke up and there was a letter on the table saying he wasn't coming back. And he never did. I didn't know where he was, or that you existed, until after he died." Killian knew this would come up, and decided it was best to tell the truth. He would not try to turn the boy against Brennan, but he certainly wasn't going to cover up past misdeeds.

"Liam?" The younger brother questioned the name.

"Yes, our older brother was named Liam. The letter that your father wrote, asking me to take care of you when he was gone, said he named you after the boys he left." He pulled out his phone and showed the boy a picture of himself with Liam, taken a few years before his death. He paused, letting the boy take that in. He didn't feel that he should add that the father considered repeating the name penance. The child didn't need to be burdened with the sins of the father. "Liam was the best man I've ever known. He was my brother and my best friend. And after your father left, he stepped up and became my father as well." Liam studied the picture.

"Is it hard, me being called the same thing?"

"Quite, actually."

"Maybe I should have a nickname. Something that you can call me."

Killian smiled. The boy was smart. "That could work. What should it be?"

"You can't give yourself a nickname."

"Aye, but I need to know you better to come up with one for you. I can't base it on anything I know right now, or all I could call you is Junior."

Liam paused. "Our brother Liam, you said he was a good man?"

"The absolute best."

Liam nodded. "I can be Junior to that."

"Junior." And they both nodded in agreement.

Silence set in for a few moments. Killian didn't know what one spoke about with eleven year olds. And he didn't want to hear about the only thing he knew they had in common, Brennan Jones. But he did want to get to know his brother. He hoped learning more about the boy would help alleviate his fears.

"So, what kind of things do you like?"

"Star Wars."

Killian nodded, approving. "Good choice. Excited about the new movie?"

Liam's face lit up. "Yes. Emma got tickets for us to go see it at midnight Thursday night. She's the coolest." He looked over at the blonde, who was chatting with her own son. He instantly knew he'd be forever grateful to this woman for bridging the gap in his brother's life.

"That's awesome. You can't tell me anything about it until I've seen it though. No spoilers."

Liam looked shocked at the suggestion that he would even do such a thing.

The two quickly dissolved into a discussion about the past movies, and what they thought about anything, everything they'd heard about the new movie. They were startled when Emma and Henry arrived at the table, saying that it was dinner time and they needed to start heading home.

She noticed the disappointment on both Killian and Liam's face. She had been happy to see them talking and getting along so well.

"Killian, would you like to join us? That way you and Liam can talk a while longer."

"Is that okay with you, Junior?" Liam nodded excitedly.

"Junior?" Emma questioned the name.

"Yeah, Liam was also our older brother's name, so I'm Liam Junior." Emma shot Killian a look. She was perceptive, and picked up on there being more to the story. He averted his eyes, and just accepted the invitation.

"So, Henry's dad?"

"There was one."

"Ah."

Dinner had gone well. It was nice seeing his brother interact with Emma and her son. He was happy to know he was with people who obviously loved him and would care for him. But that was the problem. How could he do this? How could he build a home for the boy? He didn't know what home even meant.

"Do you want a beer?" Emma was rummaging in the refrigerator, as he brought in the last of the trash from the takeout.

"Got anything stronger?"

She laughed, and didn't blame him. This had to have been tough.

"There's whiskey, or … whiskey."

"That will do."

She poured glasses for them both, and they sat down at the kitchen table, ears perked to any intrusion from the boys.

"So, you didn't know Liam existed?"

"No. I didn't even know if my father was dead or alive. He walked out on me and my brother when I was eleven, never to be seen or heard from again. At least, not until I got the letter from the lawyer informing me of Junior."

"Liam."

"I'm calling him Junior. Liam was my older brother. Brennan left a letter explaining he named him Liam Killian to remind himself of the boys he left behind."

"Oh, that's right. His middle name is Killian."

He just nodded, and took a sip of the whiskey.

This was a lot to take in for Emma. If you had asked her whether Brennan Jones was the type of man who could have ever walked out on his son, she would have told you no. Apparently she didn't know the man at all. She was lost in her own thoughts of Brennan when she heard Killian sigh next to her.

"I don't know if I can do this, Emma. I don't know the first thing about raising a kid."

"You were great with him today." She wanted to be reassuring. Liam needed family, and Killian was all he had. So far, she had seen was a man trying to relate to an unexpected entry into his life. And that was enough for her. Any man who would take on a kid was good in her books.

"There's a big difference between raising a boy, turning him into a man, and talking to a kid about Star Wars and comic books for a few hours. You know that. You're raising a son. You've figured it out."

If there were ever a time for Emma Swan to open up about her past, this was it. She leveled her gaze at him, and told him everything in one fell swoop.

"Yeah, I figured it out because I had to. I was seventeen, pregnant, and just out of juvie. I'd been in foster care since the day my parents left me by the side of the road as an infant. I had two choices: give Henry up, give him his best chance at finding a family. Or be that family. I had no idea what I was doing Killian. I had no way of supporting myself, let alone an "us." But I did it. If I could do that alone at age 17, you can do it now."