I have a surprise that's going to happen hopefully sometimes soon, really excited to add it into the story. Anyways, I hope that you all are well. Enjoy reading!


"So, what are you going to tell me about yourself?" Killian asked after breakfast. Henry looked at him, confusion clear on his face. Then, like a light bulb, his face smiled. He looked very nice when he smiled. Happier.

He scribbled something down and showed him. "I'm a god father. Neal and Tamara have a three year old son named Eddie, and he's my god son. They about to have another kid. Are you an uncle or god father, Killian?"

"No, Henry. Didn't meet a lot of people that become fast friends in my lifetime. All my family died before they could have kids," he responded quietly. He found feel Henry's eyes on him, filled with sympathy and understanding. Instead of shutting up, like he wanted to, he went on. "My sister died a little while after she was born. My favorite brother, Adrian, was killed by my other brother, Xavier. And a few years later, I killed Xavier. They both died before they could have kids. So, no, I am not an uncle."

Henry slid a piece of paper over to him. "I'm sorry about your brother, Adrian. What happened with Xavier? Why did you wait to kill him? I thought that you would've taken your revenge immediately. But if it's worth anything, being an god father is not that great."

Killian gave the teen a bitter frown. "It's a long story, Henry. And don't judge me for my actions. If you had met my brother, you would understand better." At Henry's wide, almost forgiving eyes, he went on. That boy would be the death of him. "The story begins when I was 14. Adrian is dead, and my mother left us. I blame her for him being dead, and still do. But I also blame myself. Anyways..."


Killian bid his time. Waiting, waiting to get his revenge. Every day, his hatred grew. For Xavier, for his father, for his mother. The only person he didn't resent in his family was Adrian. It was just his luck that the one person he truly cared about was dead.

In that year, the crew gained 4 new members. Ross was the first to join, just days after Adrian's murder. He was 32 years old, and joined the crew as Adrian's replacement as second mate. Xavier was first mate. It wasn't that Killian resented him, but he wasn't sure how to feel with a strange filling in his brother's place just days after he died. Anger at his father was there, but he just couldn't muster up any for Ross. He was kind, but he didn't know him that well. He was quiet and skinny, the red hair on his head was the only thing allowing him to be noticed. He had grey eyes.

The next man to join was came as a merchant. Logan spoke at least 3 other languages, and had a certain charisma that allowed them to get better deals for their (usually stolen) goods. He was 26 years old, and extremely clever. Xavier and Logan became fast friends. Killian tried to avoid him as much as he could, for he had a cruel sense of humor. Logan had light, honey brown hair with green eyes. He also had several scars covering his skin.

The last two came a month before Killian's fourteenth birthday, Oliver and Johnson. They were already 16, just turned 16 in fact, and twins at that. Oliver and Johnson would be the ones nicking goods from attacking ships. They had matching shocks of white blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Their skin was incredibly pale, but not as pale as their hair. The trio became fast friends, and Killian soon learned their story.

They had been abandoned on the streets when they were 7 years old, learning to survive quickly. They stole their ways onto ships, hiding and stealing from the passengers. Oliver had a particular knack for talking to people all while taking their prized possessions. He was the quieter of the two, more thoughtful. Jonhson could sneak into almost any place, which was especially useful when running from guards. He was just a little bit reckless and that sometimes helped when planning a heist.

The twins swore they would help him in his revenge in any way they could, but the ship was their only home now. It was the one place they were safe. One wrong move, they were back on the streets. Or in a sea monster's belly. Either way, it wasn't safe for them to be involved too much. Killian was glad for his new friends, no matter what.

It was a summer day on the sea. There was not a storm cloud in sight, yet Killian still had a bad feeling. Something had to go wrong, he felt. And his gut was right, at least, that day it was. Other times... Not so much.

Killian was walking past his father's office, when he heard arguing. Deciding against better judgement, he peered in the keyhole, revealing Xavier, Jack, and Logan. Jack's face was red, Logan was smirking, and Xavier's face was wicked. "This is your choice, Jack," Xavier sneered, in his a dagger. "You leave the ship or I kill you right now." Jack's eyes flared with anger.

"I'd rather die then not be captain of my own ship." Jack punched Xavier and ran for the door, but Xavier recovered unexpectedly.

"And so you will be," Xavier hissed, sinking his dagger into Jack's throat. Killian ran for the deck, hurrying to find Oliver and Johnson.

But just as he spotted his friends, Xavier came up, holding Logan by the throat. "This traitor," he declared, sending Logan to the floor, "has killed my father and tried to kill me too. I am now Captain of the Blue Pelican, and I say, WALK THE PLANK!" Killian went weak in the knees. Oh god, oh god, oh god... Logan tried to pull himself off the floor, but Xavier's boot held him down.

"It wasn't me, it was him! I saw it, with my own two eyes!" Logan pleaded, but the crew just sneered and spat at him. Angry insults hurled at the man, and Killian felt a wince of sympathy. He tried to open his mouth to come to his defense, but at Xavier's triumphant and downright scary face, nothing came out. He felt sick.

Logan was forced to walk the plank, and Killian heard him hit the water with a loud SMACK. Oh god. He could've saved him... Or gotten the both of them killed.

Even if he had hated Logan, his anger grew, boundless. Xavier must be stopped. And he would stop at nothing to make sure that his brother would lay dead at his feet, knowing the pain Killian had felt.

But beneath his anger, he felt guilty. He hadn't said anything, but he tried to make him feel better by saying it wouldn't have made a difference. Oliver and Johnson later told him the same thing, but hearing it didn't make him feel less guilty.

Killian would get his revenge. And he would avenge every single death and tear shed due to his family.


"Xavier was one of the evilest, vilest people I have ever encountered," Killian explained.

"I can understand why you would kill him. But that doesn't make it right. I'm not saying that you shouldn't have killed him, but it just seems wrong to me. Then again, I have never met him. And murder isn't always, well, murder. Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"Murder is never right. I'm a sinner, but who isn't? And that wasn't all Xavier did." Killian grabbed a juice pouch from the fridge and brought it over to Henry. He shoved the straw through the small silver hole. "Thanks."

"No problem," Henry replied. Killian took a sip of his juice, let a sigh of relief out, and smiled.

"That's some good stuff. Nice and refreshing," he admired, turning the pouch around in his hand. Henry chuckled at his fascination with the juice. Killian liked the way he laughed. He looked happier, too. Like the eleven year old he had known all those years ago.

"So, come on, finish your story," Henry urged, intrigued. Killian shook his head. "Why not?"

"I'm telling you a part of my life's story, no, I want something about you before I continue." Henry glared, but wrote anyways. Killian watched him write on the pad, smirking. Henry roughly handed him the sheet of paper.

"I didn't eat for an entire week after I came to the conclusion that my mom was dead. No one noticed. No one noticed until I fainted in Granny's. I was 14 at the time, and my sessions with Archie had been down to only once a month. It hadn't been like that since I started therapy when I was 7 years old. Everything had seemed really, really cold at the time, and I just kept quiet. I didn't write to anyone, nothing. Bad things invaded my head like parasites."


Henry was sitting in his chair by the window, staring out aimlessly. Everything felt cold, and the pressing darkness that held his thoughts captive wasn't letting up.

'Go,' it urged, the slimy darkness taking over his mind. 'Cut yourself, bleed. Enjoy the pain, little one.' Henry barely fought it. The darkness pressed in on him, urging him what to do. He wanted something, needed something. Light. He needed light. But he couldn't find any. So, the darkness grew. And he couldn't tell anyone. It had that much control over him that he couldn't even open his mouth to try to say anything.

He could barely fight it anymore. Everything seemed bleak. He was determined, though. Henry would fight for light, his sanity, until it finally took over him. He would find his light. Needed to find his light.

And he would do anything to keep the light in his life.


"A darkness, I would say. It just took over me." Killian's eyes flashed with... Something. Henry wasn't sure what, but it wasn't good, he knew that.

"When did this, darkness, take over you? Is it still there?" he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he couldn't get them out fast enough. Henry looked at him curiously, but wrote a reply.

"Right around the time I went mute."

"You didn't answer my second question."

"Yes. It's still there."

"Do you feel like you need a... Light?" Henry's stomach dropped. How did he know of his need? The need for the light, the thing that had existed before... He craved it, needed it light a drug. He was addicted to it. Light was something everyone had, everyone felt, but once it was gone, you realized it was a drug.

"Yes."

The two then had a stare down, examining the other carefully. Killian knew something, he was sure of it. But what ever he knew, his eyes didn't reveal it. Eventually, Killian cleared his throat, breaking their contest. 'Later,' his eyes screamed.

"So, where was I?" Henry knew that Killian was purposely avoiding their former topic. A conversation for a later date, Henry supposed. Killian obviously didn't want to talk about it, and he would respect that. For now. Later, when he wasn't telling him about his past, he would press him. Henry smiled slightly at the thought, but Killian didn't notice.

"Ah, that's right. Now I remember."


Killian was 15. He had worked his way up to first mate, pretending to admire his brother. It was all part of his plan. Get close to his brother, then kill him. Make him pay.

Sure, he had qualms about killing, but he knew that he needed to avenge his brother. Logan was more of an afterthought, along with his father. His father had been a source of his misery for years, practically since he had been born. He did not mourn for the loss of his father.

They were docked at port. Xavier was trading with someone, all while Oliver and Johnson stole everything that wasn't for sale. Killian was his brother's right hand man, right there beside him. Over the course of the year, Killian had gained his brother trust. Xavier thought he was safe from him. He couldn't have been more wrong.

That night, Killian decided something: His revenge would start tomorrow. He informed Oliver and Johnson of his plan, the only two he trusted. The trio had grow closer then anything Killian had ever known. He couldn't compare it to being like family, considering what his family was like. Or had been like. But he supposed their relationship was like the relationship between brothers should be like: Joking, wrestling, arguing, goofing off.

"Killian, are you sure you can do this?" Oliver asked worriedly.

"Positive. Even if I can't, I have to. If I die, I want you guys to have my pendants. Make sure no one else gets them, and if you can't get them throw them overboard. I need to do this," Killian replied more confidently then he felt.

"Yeah, Ollie, have some faith in him!" Johnson joked, gently punching his brother. He tried to keep the situation as light as possible. "When will you be putting the plan into action?"

This one Killian had the answer to. "Noon. When everyone is on the deck. I'm bring two daggers and a sword. Xavier plays dirty, there's no way I'm not going prepared." Johnson nodded, accepting his answer.

"Still... Killian, please be careful. If you loose, you die. We can't... We can't be torn apart. We're brothers bound in blood, remember?" Oliver tried. He was more unnerved by his plan then Johnson, possibly because he had a slightly more tragic tale then Johnson.

Though the two brothers had been kicked out together, the two often separated to get enough to support themselves. They lived together, but rarely saw each other. And that's where Oliver's tale got tragic.

When Oliver was 13, he met a girl. They became partners in crime, stealing enough to support each other. Oliver had said on more then one occasion that he had felt hope, pure, genuine hope for the first time since they had been abandoned when he was with her.

Her name was Lyla, and she had long wisps of blonde hair. Oliver said her skin had been a healthy color, with icy green eyes. A beautiful laugh, like wind chimes. And then one day, a robbery went terribly wrong.

Oliver refused to divulge most of the details, but what he did say could bring almost any one to tears. Apparently they had stole something, something that would have made them richer then rich, more than enough to support Lyla, himself, and Johnson. And they had gotten caught by a gang.

Lyla had been carrying the goods once they were almost home when one of the men had grabbed her by her hair and yanked hair back, ripping pieces out. "Look-y 'ere, boys, the little maggots got somethin'," he roared, laughing heartily. He pulled at her hair some more, and Lyla winced. Oliver tried to get to her, but three men held him back, happily giving him a punch or something whenever he tried to run.

The leader of the gang had walked out of the tavern, twirling a dagger around his fingers. He was clad in black leather. The few parts of his outfit that wasn't leather was red, possibly stained from blood.

"Whad do 'ey got?" he slurred. The one holding Lyla shoved her forward, sending her flying to her knees. She clutched their goods to their chest still, head down in stubbornness. Oliver could only watch as the entire encounter, stuck in place.

The leader's eyes lit up. "Ooh! Well, aren't the two of ye some hard 'ore thieves, hmm? Give it 'ere, and no one gets hurt." Lyla shook her head. A deathly twinkle started up in his eyes. "Aren't you a stubborn lass? Give it 'ere."

Lyla shook her head again. Then, more boldly, she said, "Over my dead body." And then she punched him, and grabbed her knife. "Anyone else?" The leader rose up behind her, and got her in throat hold.

"That will be arranged. Aarogan, you know what to do." The leader tilted his head. The beefiest man of the group came forwards, brandishing a metal club with large spikes on it. Then the leader noticed Oliver, and smirked. "Oi, this your lover, boy?" Oliver refused to look him in the eyes. "I said," the man said, kicking him harshly in the ribs, "This your lover, boy?" When he didn't answer, he smirked. He leaned in close. Oliver said he had smelled of ale and run, a sickening scent. "You can stay alive, Lover Boy. Make you into a man. Aarogan, do it. Now."

Aarogan raised his metal club, and Oliver lost all speaking ability. Just before it hit her, Lyla mouthed 'I love you' to him. THen Aarogan struck.

The spikes embedded themselves in Lyla's stomach, causing her to cry out. She still didn't let go, holding onto it like a lifeline. Oliver thrashed, but to no avail. There was no way he could help. The leader just kept on smirking. "Go on." Again and again, Aarogan's club went down. It went to a point where Oliver couldn't see Lyla, just blood. Eventually he stopped, and the leader swooped down and plucked the goods up. "Let this be a lesson to you, Lover Boy. Love is just weakness." And then they all walked away. Oliver was dropped to the ground, passing men occasionally kicking him. Oliver drew himself off the ground, a crazed look in his eyes.

After that, all he ever said was that day was the first time he had ever killed, and it had taken weeks for all the blood to leave him person. He had buried Lyla by the sea, right where they had met. He and Johnson had grown together after that, and then they became more then brothers. They were partners in crime and were friends.

"Don't worry, Oliver," he replied quietly. "Everything will be fine and go as plan. No worries, remember?"

"You realize that if everything goes as planned, you'll become Captain," Johnson added, smiling.

"Yeah. And I already have my first and second mate picked out," he replied calmly. The trio continued to plot, Killian remaining at ease. But his easy-going outside didn't show his nervous insides. His fear. His need to do this. His anger, fury. His determination.

His will to let nothing stand in his way.


Whoop whoop! Longer than the last chapter! I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm warning you know, I have at least 2 deaths planned for next chapter. Giving you guys something to look forward to! Be excited!

So, what did you think of 'the Darkness' in Henry? All I'm saying it is NOT a coincidence that when Henry visited the supposed death spot, the Darkness entered. And his need for light... If you guys have any theories about that, let me know. Theories on anything, like who Henry's light might be, what the Darkness is, etc. I'm juggling a couple ideas around. :)

Oliver's backstory, what did you guys think of it? Lyla's death? I do plan on using Oliver and Johnson for at least a few more chapters. I have plans for them. I have plans for a lot of things, actually. *Smirks while stroking a white, fluffy cat* Mwhahaha!

Do you guys want more of Henry's past and less of Killian's, or just more of Henry's and the same amount of Killian's? I apologize for all the questions, I'm a very curious person. Anyways, I hope that you're enjoying the story. Do you guys want less of the past next chapter and more of the present? I am considering doing that.

Wow, long Author's Note. Sorry about that. Love you guys, and don't forget to review! See you guys next time! :)