Chapter 10

Liam kept refusing to pull the spear from his shoulder.

It didn't make sense. Killian begged, close to tears. "Why do you betray me, brother?"

Liam only turned away, eyes hardened. Finally, he spat a single word, full of loathing and pain.

"Pirate."

Killian struggled, still pinned to the mast, unbearable pain spreading through his chest, back, and arm. But that was nothing compared to the shame of Liam's reaction. His spite… his hatred. The worst part was, Killian knew he deserved it.

"Wait! Liam, please! Let me change; give me a second chance - I can do it, for you! I can!"

But Liam wouldn't turn back. He took a step forward, then another, as hot tears burned Killian's cheeks; his throat; his lungs. "Liam!"

"Let him be, Captain," advised Smee. He was calmly setting fire to the end of the spear. "You're not the brother he knew. There's no going back now."

Killian howled; despair, rage, and pain creating a wail that not even he could recognize. And Liam kept walking until he fell off the edge of the plank and the mermaids took his corpse.

Sobbing, Killian beat at the flames creeping closer to his flesh. His hand combusted, skin melting like candle wax, dripping to the deck at his feet. But it didn't matter, really, because it was dead anyway. He turned his face away from the relentless blaze on the spear. Would it really make a difference, with his shoulder already in agony?

Smee held a cup to his captain's lips... a cup filled with blood. "Drink this, sir. You'll feel better."

Killian pushed him away with his skeleton hand and reached for Milah. But she stood just beyond his grasp, eyeing him coldly.

"You're not Killian. Not anymore."

"Milah," he pleaded. Smee was caressing his face; kissing him; following when he tried to pull away.

"You make me sick," she spat.

"Please, love; it isn't like that; I would never-"

Smee morphed into Pan, complete with disgustingly lecherous features. Killian struggled again, tears falling anew. "I… I can explain this; I-"

Pan pressed himself to Killian's side, and the pirate grimaced. Milah glowered and hissed,

"It's a good thing I never loved you."

"Milah, I don't want… it's not my… I can't stop him!"

Milah gave a disgusted click of her tongue and went to join the gloating form of the Crocodile at the helm.

"Get away from him, love, please! He's going to-"

"I already have her heart," sneered the Dark One. "No need to steal what's already mine."

Killian reached for the dagger in his belt; the ornately decorated blade, engraved with the name Rumplestiltskin. He could control him with it; could call him close, close enough to reach, to plunge the blade into his rotten heart. To take back Milah; his love; his life.

But his skeleton hand couldn't grip the handle. The dagger fell to the ground, out of reach. Killian screamed in frustration, panic growing within him. From behind him, snuggled repulsively close, Pan snickered.

The burning spear vanished. Killian fell flat on his face, wooden planks giving way to jungle floor, and still Pan snickered.

Killian sobbed. Milah and the Crocodile - they were sailing away, leaving him trapped with the demon, and she… she was disgusted by him.

His cheek ground into the dirt as tears made small clods of mud beneath him. The flames in his shoulder flared to life where it contacted the earth, and he bit his lip in a wince. He attempted to roll onto his side, seeking relief, but a stubborn weight held him down.

Pan. Pan was still there.