"I suppose the real question is, 'who the bloody hell are you?" The girl made a startlingly accurate mockery of his accent and Liam blanched for a moment. She had this look on her face that reminded him so much of... His thoughts trailed away from his little brother when the girl's face fell. "You two are really hurt, aren't ya?"

Something clicked in his head, and he didn't really understand why. "Tilly?"

She nodded automatically, not really looking at him, but at his little brother. The look on her face as it crumpled, the devastation there, it all started to make a strange kind of sense as to how they'd gotten into this mess in the first place.

"How did you find us, lass?" He didn't understand how she'd gotten here, how she'd found them.

If she would help them.

"I just looked for what wasn't there," she replied cryptically, not taking her eyes off his brother. She looked so familiar.

"What?"

She smiled, but it was a sad thing. "I knew he'd come looking for me. He'd never leave me out in the cold, not on a night like this. I've spent colder nights, you know, out in the forest. But not here."

Liam still didn't understand.

"When he didn't show up, I came looking. But he's not waking up..." she trailed off, turning her tortured glance towards him. "I don't even know if he's really awake."

Liam blinked, not understanding.

"Are you awake? You're not supposed to be if you are," she riddled again.

He didn't know what made him understand. If it was her mannerisms or just a remnant of the curse. If he'd ever known who she was or if he'd never met her before. He didn't understand how he knew - just that he knew.

"Aye, luv, I'm awake. And so are you."

She nodded. "He named me Alice. After your-"

"After our mother," Liam finished. "Of course he did. Alice, we-"

"You need help. I'll be back in a tiff!"

And she was off, her footsteps muffled in the snow and gone so suddenly that Liam wasn't entirely sure that she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Did he have a niece to worry about now, as well?

Liam twisted around, trying to peer out the back window of the SUV to watch Alice scamper off, seemingly unperturbed by the blizzard swirling around her. All too quickly, she was lost to the whiteout conditions and Liam couldn't do anything more for her.

Besides, he had his little brother to worry about, still.

Killian was shivering more violently now, tiny little whimpers escaping from him though his face was still slack with unconsciousness.

Liam shifted again, moving closer to his brother and trying to share what body heat he could. Killian was terrifyingly pale, his eyelashes sooty against his cheeks. There wasn't much else he could do, what with the way the world was tilting around him and the way his own shivering was lighting a fire in his arm. Neither one of them was in any state of health, both of them needed help - at least an hour ago, if not sooner. There was nothing he could do other than try and keep them both alive until Alice could get back with help.

Gods, his niece had better hurry.

His niece. He had a niece. Killian had sired a child. One who, by all accounts (from what he could see in her eyes anyway) had been raised well and loved thoroughly. Liam smiled a little - Killian hadn't had the best role model in their father in how to parent, but Liam wasn't so blind as to think that Brennan had any influence over them anyway. No, Liam knew that any ability to parent that Killian had grown into, it was solely due to his little brother's strength of character.

Liam had never been more proud of Killian.

Never.

Of course, he couldn't tell him that. Rogers wouldn't understand, may be drawn to Ali- Tilly like Jewell had been to Kil- Rogers, but didn't have a daughter.

He'd have to wake him up, and soon.

Alice needed her father, and Liam needed his little brother.

Killian needed him, too, even if he didn't know it yet.

Liam sighed, resisting the urge to pull Killian forward and check on the wound in his back. He knew the pressure was better for it, but not being able to see if the bleeding had stopped was terrifying. He wanted to control it, wanted to control everything about this situation. Especially now that he'd inexplicably gotten his little brother back and both sets of memories in his head were shouting from the rooftops in a combination of relief and fear.

Gods, what if he lost him again?

Liam was sure this wasn't another curse, that there wouldn't be a magical do-over if his brother died here in this car. He didn't understand how Killian was here, how he wasn't long ago returned to the sea to rest, how he was here.

He didn't bloody care.

Killian was here and Liam was going to make damned sure that he was going to stay that way.

"Liam?" Killian's whisper rang through the SUV and nearly made Liam shout in startled concern.

Put a lid on the cursed memories, Jones, he thought hastily. "Rogers?"

Killian sighed sadly and Liam began to hope. It all came flooding back to him, the last few hours in the car, the stilted conversations, calling him Liam, calling him brother.

He turned hopeful, tortured eyes up to where Killian was looking at him blearily. He had to try. He could always blame it on stress if he were wrong.

"Ki..." he cleared his throat, his heart nearly choking him. "Killian?"

Startled, frightened eyes met his own gaze, Killian looking at him with such hope that Liam knew it already.

"Little brother?"

Killian very clearly wasn't breathing, shaking with tears checked in the corners of his eyes. "Liam?" he whispered, sounding nearly terrified.

Liam nodded, reaching out to clasp a hand over Killian's knee, tears stinging his own eyes.

"I..." Killian started, "I need..."

"What do you need, Killian? Help is coming." There would be time for explanations later.

But the guarded look didn't leave. "I need you to tell me your last name."

Oh. Right. Killian was just as worried as he was.

Liam smiled gently, hand coming up to cup the back of Killian's neck. "Glory for the Jones brothers, aye Killian?"

Liam Jones had spent centuries in Neverland, dreaming of the day he'd find out what had happened to his little brother. He had spent the first few years imagining that he could escape and reunite with Killian. Had pictured the reunion so many times, locked in that godsdamned cage in that bloody tree.

Had expected tears, hugs, disbelief, anger. Anything and everything. Or so he thought.

Liam Jones had never expected this.

Killian pulled sharply away from him, plastering himself against the door and stifling a cry as he jostled some injury that Liam wanted to catalogue and fix. He started shaking his head 'no', scrabbling for the door handle.

He was shaking.

Violently.

"Killian?" Liam didn't know what to do. What was wrong. How to fix this.

Was it because Killian had thought him long dead? Liam had thought the same about him and was just relieved to find he got another chance with his little brother. Was it because he'd abandoned Killian when he was still so young, so vulnerable? Was it superstition? Was it... he just didn't know.

"No. No no no. Nonononono. You can't be awake. You're not supposed to be awake. Jewell was safe. You're not Jewell anymore. You're Liam and she's going to come for you. I can't protect you from her. Not now, not here. Not like this." Killian's arm rose, his prosthetic running jerkily through his hair as he muttered maniacally.

"Killian, it's all right," he soothed. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out. It's the two of us again. The two of us together, Kil- it's all right, just calm down."

Killian kept muttering, eyes wild, tears in his eyes. "I can't lose you again."

"You're not going to, little brother. Come on now, it's all right. Just slow down. I don't understand." Liam reached out hesitantly, telegraphing his intentions before he laid his hand, palm up, next to Killian's right hand. He wouldn't have to move it much, wouldn't risk pulling on his shoulder, he just had to-

Killian clutched his hand desperately, holding on for dear life.

Killian's fingers were freezing around his own, making Liam stare at their hands in something approaching wonder. They were both in the same car, had been in the elements for the same amount of time. And yet. Killian was bloody freezing. God, how long had Liam been out cold in the back, secure under the blankets they should have been sharing. How much blood had his little brother lost from that gash in his back? What other injuries was he hiding, did Liam need to be worried about shock, should he be-

"Li-" Killian tried to speak, shaking violently and staring at Liam imploringly. Gods, he looked so bloody young, like those first days on Silver's ship, begging Liam to make it right, to keep him safe, to lead him.

"It's all right, little brother," Liam assuaged, gentling his voice as if speaking to a frightened stray. "I've got you now. Just relax, Killian, it's going to be all right."

Killian's tremors eased fractionally, leaning almost imperceptibly towards Liam, his hand still contracted almost painfully around Liam's own fingers. He looked even younger than he had a moment ago, seemingly caught between his terror and his natural tendency to follow where Liam led.

"Let's get you situated more comfortably, aye?" Liam reached out to ease Killian back around, wrapping his arm around his little brother's shoulders and tugging him close. A quick check that the abdominal pad was still firmly in place and a sharp tug of the blankets to keep his brother warm, and Liam was more comfortable than he'd been in centuries - with Killian secure under his arm where he could keep him safe.

"Li'm," Killian slurred, the adrenaline waning and leaving him near boneless against Liam's side. "You've gotta stay safe. I need you."

Liam shut his eyes against the pain, against the loss in his brother's voice and murmured softly into his hair. "I've got you, little brother. You're safe now."

Killian shook his head, but it was sloppy, not something Liam had ever associated with the young Lieutenant who had turned his life around so completely once Liam had bartered with a god for their freedom. Liam's unease ratcheted up past worry and concern and into a nearly crippling fear. Alice needed to hurry up. The ambulance needed to get here. He needed to save his brother.

"'m safe. Sh' doe'n't wan' me. Already used me. But sh' needs y'r heart, Li'm. Please, brother. Stay safe. Can' lose you 'gain." Killian tucked his head more firmly under Liam's chin, tightening his fingers as much as he was able as if this woman he was so afraid of would materialize in the SUV and steal Liam from under his nose.

His little brother was scared. It wasn't an emotion Liam was used to seeing in his brother. Even when they were small, Killian was brash and fearless. Not even the cane nor the whip, not even the bloody cat could break his brother's hold on his temper. Sure, he may have been afraid, and who wouldn't have been under the circumstances? But he'd never looked it.

"I'll keep a weather eye out, Killian," Liam vowed. "I promise I won't leave you again. Not again, little brother, I swear it. I'm here."

Killian nodded, but his movements were slowed, his eyes when he looked up at his brother were glassy and unfocused. "m cold, Li..." his words trailed off as he dropped his head back to Liam's chest, seizing up a moment as he shivered before going completely limp.

"Killian?" Liam questioned. "Killian?!"

There was no answer. He shook his brother hard, hoping beyond hope for some kind of response.

Killian flopped limply against his chest, his hand lax in Liam's.

"Killian!"

Liam tore the blanket from around his shoulders, shivering when the cold in the SUV assaulted him, but ignoring it as he wrapped the wool tightly around Killian. The combine pad was still in place, pinned between Killian's shoulder and the backseat. He could still smell the blood, though, far too cloying and pervasive in the air to be under control. Was he bleeding from somewhere else? Was there something Liam couldn't fix? Was he going to lose Killian before he had a chance to find out how he was here? Pressing down harder on the wound, Liam did something he hadn't done since his mother had been dying in their seaside cottage.

He prayed.

In English, in Gaelic, to any god he could think of, any god he'd ever heard of. Anyone and anything that would keep his brother with him. Gods, he needed to go after Alice, make sure she-

"They're coming."

She came out of nowhere, he was half-convinced she was a ghost or a hallucination. The thought came unbidden and nearly made Liam weep in fear - what if she was a hallucination? What if no one had gone for help? What if no one knew-

"Uncle Liam?"

Alice had managed to climb into the SUV through the driver's side door when he wasn't looking, her thin hand reaching around the tree branches resting on the console to reach for him and squeeze his knee in reassurance.

She was real. Bloody hell, she was real and that meant help was coming.

"I'm all right, sweet. You called the ambulance?"

She nodded. "I found some service a little ways up the road. Told them who you were. They're all coming."

Liam did start crying then, tears slipping - unbidden - down his cheeks.

"Uncle Liam?"

"'m all right, little lass. We're going to get your fath... gods, your father is awake, luv... we're going to save him."

She grinned, and he could see all of the attributes that Killian had passed down to her - and a little of their mother's looks, too - in her beaming face.

"Papa?" she whispered, tearing her gaze away from Liam to stare hopefully at her father.

Killian didn't so much as breathe too heavily, his chest rising and falling only slightly. She called for him again and again, each time making Liam's heart clench just a little bit harder, making the tears fall faster down his cheeks.

"He'll... he'll be all... your father's strong, sweet. He's stronger than I am. He'll be all right." Liam wished it sounded more than an empty promise, cursed under his breath for even thinking that, and hugged Killian tighter.

Alice nodded sadly, her lower lip trembling as she turned glassy, wide eyes on him. "I need him to come back."

"I do too, little one. We'll be strong for him together, aye?"

Liam may not have known much about the relationship between his brother and his niece, but he knew this - Killian would rather die than leave his little girl alone and abandoned. The least Liam could do for him was be strong for her.

Alice started to say something else, but stopped abruptly, her eyes wide.

It took a second longer, so focused as he was on the sound of Killian's breathing, but then he heard it, too.

Ambulance sirens.

He grinned at Alice, or rather at the back of her head as she scampered off again, out of the car and presumably up to the road to flag down the EMTs.

There was a flurry of activity then, men asking questions and taking vital signs and focusing on both of them until Liam waved them off. He was fine, his arm could wait - Killian had done a fine job to stop the bleeding - and his brother needed them far more than he did.

Alice stood behind them, hopping from foot to foot and trying to stay out of the way.

There was a collar and gauze pads and... gods what were they looking at on his leg? What had he missed? Then something orange and blue wrapped around whatever injury that was - Liam belatedly recognized the SAM splint that must be stabilizing a fracture.

And then they were moving Killian, out of the car and onto the longboard that they'd use to transport him up the hill and to a gurney. To help.

One of the men came around the vehicle, pulling open the other door and fiddling with Liam's arm despite his protests. He couldn't see Killian, couldn't hear Alice, needed to keep them safe. He growled at the man until the EMT raised his hands in acquiescence and helped him out of the back seat.

The world went dark before Liam could take five steps away from his car.

He couldn't have been out for long, just barely long enough for the EMTs to clearly panic and strap him to a backboard of his own - trussed up tighter than a mutineer to the mast awaiting sentence. Liam struggled despite knowing it was useless, needing to get to his brother, needing to get-

"Please stop, Uncle Liam," Alice begged from his side, kneeling in the snow and soaking her jeans. He was caught by the unreasonable need to sit up and get her out of the snow. Before he could demand that she stand up and get someplace warm, Alice reached out and tangled her fingers in his. "Let them help you."

There was something in her eyes - something his stomach rebelled against seeing seated there. Fear. She looked so frightened, so much like her father had as a little boy left alone in the dark. Gods, she looked just like Killian when she-

Killian.

"Where's your father?" Liam all but shouted, immediately groaning and trying to curl in on himself when the sound of his own voice set off every nerve ending in his head. Tears leaked out of his eyes, unbidden, as the pain crescendoed and nearly took him under with it. He had to stay with it, he had to find out about Killian, he had to…

When the backboard underneath him was lifted, the sickening feeling of weightlessness washed over him and sucked him back into unconsciousness.

Sniffling. Quiet tears. Steady beeping. Constant whirring. Muted footsteps. Garbled Announcements.

Hospital.

But who was crying?

And how had he gotten from those icy woods to the hospital?

And where was his brother?

Killian shot up in the bed, regretting it immediately, but forcing himself to maintain his balance as he hunched over his lap and breathed through his nose. Memories came crashing back - Liam Jones, his brother was awake and that meant he was in danger. Gothel was out there and Killian had no idea what she wanted nor why she needed Liam for it, only that he would take her to the Underworld with him before he let that witch use his brother.

Even if it meant leaving his brother behind.

A nasty voice in the back of his head that had often let loose his temper whispered that turnabout was only fair pay.

Killian felt sick to his stomach just thinking about where that thought had come from. He'd always known he wasn't a good man, not like Liam. And he knew that Liam hadn't meant to leave him. He knew that. But the fact remained that he'd been a lost boy for centuries, left to face the world alone because his brother was as stubborn and loyal as the day was long.

And Killian had suffered immeasurably and lost so much in that time.

No. No, that wasn't Liam's fault. His brother had died nobly, in pursuit of honor and everything that made him good. Killian just didn't measure up to that.

And probably never would.

But the fact remained that, no matter how much he couldn't compare to his brother and would never be enough for that, he was a an utterly selfish bastard who would do anything and everything a chance to allow his brother to truly live. Like he hadn't had a chance to the first time around.

More sniffles, and shifting in the chair next to him. "Are you really awake?"

Alice.

No. Tilly.

Killian wasn't sure if Gothel wanted Alice awake or not, but he was absolutely sure that he would protect her more vehemently than even his own brother. And it was safer if she were still cursed.

Gods, at least the bloody curse that kept them apart didn't seem to work here. It was all he could do to stay sitting in that bed, barely conscious, and not vault himself into her arms and hold her close. His daughter.

"Tilly?" he asked, tilting his head and ignoring the way the room spun in favor of making sure his baby girl was all right.

She was curled up in a chair, looking far too uncomfortable and far too bloody young - and old, they'd lost so much time together - huddled under a blanket and watching him. She tried to smile, but her lower lip wobbled and only the barest reminder that she wasn't his daughter in this realm kept him from sweeping her up like he'd done when she was young to soothe her.

"What's the matter, Tilly? Where'd you come from?"

Tilly shifted in the chair, turning the saddest eyes he'd seen on her in awhile - and that was saying something. "I hate it when you call me that," she whispered brokenly.

No.

Yes. Could it be?

Killian was terrified to get his hopes up, but he wanted. Oh gods, how much he wanted for her to know who he was.

"Would you…" he began, ignoring how tremulous his own voice sounded. "Would you prefer it if I called you Starfish?"

It was worth it. Whatever pain he'd gone through up until this point was worth it to see that look on his daughter's face before she launched herself out of the chair and into his arms.

"Papa!"

It hurt. Everything hurt and he was partly sure that he was dying, the bruises on his chest and the jagged tear in his back and his bloody leg were all screaming for her to get off. He didn't care. Even as the world started to spin around them and stars danced in his vision, even as monitors behind him screamed and his hands began to shake, Killian just held on tighter, hoping that Alice - Alice, by gods, it was Alice - didn't notice how damp her hair was getting.

"You were asleep for a long time, Papa," she mumbled into his chest, her own tears soaking his hospital gown.

"I know, my heart. I'm so sorry." Killian tugged her impossibly closer, ignoring the way she sat on his leg in favor of muffling her quiet whimpers.

"Detective Rogers are you all- Hey! I chased you out of here twice already. I'm calling Security, Detective, don't-"

"Don't you dare!" Killian hissed, putting his hand up to shield Alice as if he could protect her in the state he was in. The monitors continued to scream and the nurse continued to glare as everything grew hazy.

"Papa!" Alice cried again, hands grasping at his back and igniting more pain as she clutched his shoulders to keep him with her. "Don't leave me again!"

As his back hit the mattress and his shoulder erupted into an all-encompassing agony, Killian realized that he hadn't even asked about Liam yet.

He didn't have a chance before the pull of darkness claimed him.

It was quiet the next time he woke, the beeping of the monitors settling in the back of his mind even before he was aware that he was waking up. There were quiet footsteps moving around his room, not stealthy but sure.

Alice, he thought. She must be getting so bored; his girl was always on the move, always looking for her next adventure. Ever since she'd been stuck in that tower, ever since they'd come to Washington, she was always moving.

"Starfish?" he mumbled, turning his head towards her as she stepped up to his bedside. He'd open his eyes in just a moment, he was sure.

"Excuse me?" a voice said, startling Killian enough to open his eyes.

Not Alice.

The woman in scrubs stared at him like she wanted to hit a panic button somewhere, and she was certainly not his daughter. Wasn't Alice here? Hadn't she been just there a moment ago? Didn't he remember her knowing him?

"Was there a young woman here?" he asked, trying to push himself up and realizing, belatedly, that his right arm was strapped to his chest. That hadn't been like that before, he was sure of it.

Killian nearly toppled over trying for any other position than flat on his back. There was a pillow keeping the injury to his back away from the mattress, but it wasn't helping much. The nurse huffed at him before steadying him and raising the head of the bed.

"Please, the young woman. Where is she?" Killian tried again once he was - more or less - sitting up. He felt strangely naked beneath the blankets, the thin hospital gown doing little to protect him. There was something about the leather he'd worn for centuries, as much practical protection as it was symbolic armor.

Some days he missed it.

"I don't know who you're talking about, Detective," she told him, writing down the numbers on the monitor. "I'll let your doctor know you're awake. He should be in shortly."

Killian watched, dumbstruck, as she strutted out the door.

Where was Alice?

Had she even been there in the first place?

Was any of it real?

Liam.

Killian kept being surprised at just how long it was taking him to remember his brother. It was, he supposed, only fair - since Liam was supposed to have been dead for centuries and Alice was… gods, was she Alice or was she still Tilly? It just all seemed so convenient to be given back his brother and his daughter in the span of a few… hours? Days? Weeks? How long had it been since the accident?

And where was his family?

Killian swung his legs around, letting them hang off the bed and getting his equilibrium before attempting to stand.

"Just how far do you think you're going to get, Detective?" Weaver's voice had Killian spinning around and nearly toppling to the floor as the world spun around him.

Probably not weeks then.

Nausea assaulted him, making Killian clamp his eyes shut and clench his fist tightly in the sling that held it. Gods, with neither of his hands available to… he was nearly helpless right now.

Killian slitted his eyes open when a rhythmic squeaking moved into the room.

Weaver had a wheelchair.

"I thought you might want to check on y- our captain," was all he said as he gestured for Killian to sit.

Killian stared defiantly for a moment, loathe to show weakness in front of the crocodile. They may not be the sworn enemies they once were, Alice going a long way towards reconciling both of them, but old habits died hard.

Practicality won out quickly however - that and fear of what Weaver was going to wheel him towards - and Killian slumped into the ancient wheelchair. Weaver made quick work of silencing the monitors, detangling the wires, and hanging the IV on the chair back. Clearly, he'd done this before. Then they slipped out of the room with surprising stealth.

Killian wasn't going to question how no one had come to stop them; he needed to see Liam.

"It's not… pretty, Dearie," Weaver warned when they snuck out of the elevator two floors above where Killian had been staying. His partner flashed an id badge over the keylock to the ICU and wheeled Killian in as if they belonged there.

Killian nodded by reaction more than understanding. He didn't care what Liam looked like, Killian just needed to see that his brother was still with them. He didn't know what he'd do if he lost Liam again. He'd even take Jewell if that was all he got.

Killian Jones hadn't gotten too many second chances in his long, long life. He didn't want to squander this one.

He should have taken better heed of what Weaver was trying to tell him.

Liam was in the room, all right. He was hooked up to so many monitors with so many wires snaking underneath the blankets that Killian wondered if there was anything left of Liam at all. But that wasn't the worst of it.

As Killian nodded to Weaver to bring him closer to Liam's side, his eyes were transfixed by the rise and fall of the ventilator - the even cadence of whooshing and sucking that breathed for his brother was hypnotic and terrifying. He followed the path of the tube from the machine to his brother's mouth and was caught up in the insane notion that he needed to pull it away from Liam in order for his brother to breathe. It was secured completely, looking like someone had gagged Liam to keep him from crying out at the pain he must be in.

And then Killian looked further, cataloguing the paleness to Liam's skin, the absolute lack of expression in his brother's face, the… the tape that kept Liam's eyes shut to the world. It seemed like his big brother wasn't even there, just a badly crafted caricature.

Killian reached out hesitantly, the fingers of his prosthetic slipping tentatively under his brother's limp hand. He managed enough control to tighten his grip imperceptibly, and for once was glad that there was no feeling in those fingers. He could imagine that Liam's hand was gripping his back, that his skin wasn't cold to the touch, that he wasn't going to lose his brother.

"Come back to me brother, please?"