When Liam looks up, his little brother is being dragged into the small room as little more than dead weight. The fight has gone out of Killian completely, but it is the bag over his head that stalls Liam's breath in his throat.
Killian hates the dark.
He's hated it since they were small, since their father used to scream bloody murder at their mother while the two boys huddled in their room. Liam wants to reach over and snag the fabric from Killian's head, wants nothing more than to let his brother see the dim light that filters into the room. But he can't. He's frozen in place, unable to move or breathe or even think.
He can't scream or shout or beg them to hurt him instead. Because he knows the men won't listen.
No, all he can do is watch as Killian is dropped to the ground, his fingers curling and uncurling against the dirt floor as he gasps in much needed oxygen. He only has a minute to compose himself before the first foot connects with his ribs.
Liam cries out along with his brother, knowing that Killian can't hear him over the shouts and the muted sounds of boots impacting his side. One of the men kneels down to start punching Killian instead, and Liam wants to leap out of the chair he's stuck in, wants to beat this man within an inch of his own life.
Anything to turn their attention away from his little brother.
Killian can't anticipate the blows with the bag over his head, so each time he's punched in the face, his head snaps backwards violently. He curls around his ribs a little too late, only to arch out a moment later when he's kicked in the back.
Tears track down Liam's face, feeling each blow as if they are beating him instead of leaving him to watch, impotent and helpless.
One particularly nasty blow to what must be Killian's temple snaps his head to the side and then he goes completely limp, no more muffled sounds coming from under the bag, no more fight to him as he drops wordlessly to the ground.
Liam's breath catches in his throat, waiting, praying for Killian to move. To get up.
To live.
They don't stop kicking Killian, not even when he's clearly no longer reacting to even the most heinous of kicks to his groin and his abdomen.
Liam shouts himself hoarse, but no one listens.
He watches in abject horror as Killian is kicked in the back of the head before the man who has been watching all of this from the sidelines calls out in a foreign language.
Killian's attackers stop immediately, dragging Killian up between them. When they try to let go, Liam's little brother starts to fall forward, and they are forced to continue holding him.
"You thought you could infiltrate our organization?" the man who is clearly in charge spits out angrily. He keeps speaking, but Liam is concentrating solely on Killian.
Liam notices the moment his brother bites back his weakness, wishes Killian hadn't been trained so well in how to do this. His little brother summons whatever reserve of strength he has left and pulls his shoulders back in defiance of what is going on around him, out of his control.
A fourth man steps behind them, gun shoved ruthlessly into the base of Killian's skull before the bag is finally, blessedly tugged off. Killian blinks owlishly in the dim light, blood trickling down the side of his face and his head seemingly too heavy for his neck. His lip is split wide open and he clearly needs medical aid.
And then the fear that Killian never could hide from his big brother washes over the both of them and leaves Liam wanting to lean forward and empty the contents of his stomach. His little brother is terrified and there is nothing he can do about it.
The look is only there for an instant before Killian masks the fear with his temper. He leans forward as much as he's able and spits blood at the man who is clearly in charge. "Was that the best you could do? I've had worse mornings in the Hilton," he spits at his captors.
Liam groans and wants to smack Killian upside the head for his cheek. Quit antagonizing the men with guns, little brother, he begs.
"Your only warning," the man hisses at Liam, ignoring Killian completely. He says something to the man behind Killian and Liam can't turn away, already knowing what is coming next. Killian knows it, too, if the way his eyes lock with Liam's is any indication.
The sharp retort of the gun echoes through Liam's ears and tears the cry of agony from his chest. His whole field of vision is covered in red and he can only hear as Killian's body hits the-
REMINDER: MEETING WITH FUNERAL DIRECTOR 9AM
DISMISS? SNOOZE? REPEAT?
Liam blinked, startled out of reliving the scene on the video over and over again. It was six am, he'd been watching Killian's last moments alive since he'd sat down at the computer with a fifth of scotch that had been his constant companion since that day in Ops when the live feed of Killian's death had come through. Liam had assigned half of the analysts in his employ to pour over the video for any hint that Killian was alive, that this damned video was some kind of trick.
They'd come back to him with some information - none of it good.
The compound that they'd been holding Killian in was the same one that Liam's operatives were set to storm within hours of the livestream being set - they'd simply been too slow. News of Killian's death had reached them before there was an unnecessary loss of life, but that didn't set well with Liam, either.
He'd burn the whole world to the ground if it meant Killian's murderers were taken to task (and maybe drawn, quartered, and tarred in the process) for their involvement.
Nothing about the video had been doctored. Killian had most certainly been the victim in the video and it hadn't been pre-recorded.
There were no further leads as to where the organization Killian was trying to infiltrate would have shifted their base of operations to.
Killian had died and there was nothing Liam to do to avenge him.
Yet.
So Liam had ordered the video scrubbed from their archives and downloaded to his personal laptop. He wouldn't leave his brother's last moments of fear and agony for anyone else to find.
This was all his bloody fault. He had been the one to give Killian the mission. He had been the one to agree with his brother that backup would only hinder his progress. He had been the one who had waited so long before realizing something was wrong.
And even the day that the livestream had come through to Ops. I'm bloody well going to kill him this time, he'd thought in pure exasperation, still not believing that something could be wrong.
Liam downed the glass of scotch, set a new reminder for the meeting with the funeral director to allow his colleagues and their few 'friends' to pay Killian their last respects, and hit play on the video again.
To clear up any confusion, the first set of these ficlets are set before the events of The Darling Affair, and are based on a passing comment in a paragraph in the first chapter:
They had both inherited the Jones' family stubbornness, but Killian, it seemed, had developed it in spades. It was an unwavering resolve that had kept him alive in the past, long after another operative would have given in and been lost. In one harrowing mission gone FUBAR, Killian's tenacity had kept him alive long after even Liam had broken down and started to make funeral arrangements. It was, unfortunately, a part of his character that Liam had never been able to teach Killian how to shut down completely.
The second set of ficlets are set during the end of The Darling Affair, when Killian is recovering at home. These will feature Emma as well as Liam with Killian.