Killian rolled his eyes as Hades, himself, stalked across the concrete floor and crouched in front of him, just out of reach of Killian's boots.
"And how are you faring this fine morning, Lieutenant?" Hades asked conversationally, as if he wasn't crouching next to his prisoner, handcuffed and bound around one of the metal poles in the room.
Killian ignored him.
He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Hades glared at him, getting angrier and angrier as Killian continued to 'admire' the decor - if one could call cobwebs, questionable stains on the concrete, spatters of his own blood dotting his pants, and a table full of things he didn't want to think about 'decor'.
"I asked you a question, Jones," Hades spoke in the same tone of voice, but Killian could hear the venom dripping in every word. He wasn't about to give Hades the satisfaction of hearing him mumble incoherently around the material wadded in his mouth and tied behind his head.
"Oh, right. Right," Hades continued, "you're a little… tied up at the moment, aren't you? I suppose I'll have to excuse your woeful lack of manners this time, won't I, Lieutenant?"
Killian rolled his eyes. He didn't have time to flinch away before Hades had woven his fingers into Killian's hair and slammed his head back against the pole.
Stars flew through his vision, making the world spin around him and interrupting the chilling silence of the room with ringing that drowned out Hades' next words.
"-Miss Swan."
Killian snapped his head around, his nostrils flaring.
"Oh, I see I have your full and prompt attention now," Hades crowed, repeating the words Killian had spoken to Swan weeks before. He'd thought he'd seen Heller skulking in the shadows that night outside the bar.
He's known all along, Killian thought woefully, wondering if Emma was all right. If she was safe. If she was coming for him.
No, he thought angrily at himself, no you don't want her anywhere near this.
"I just wanted to stop in and see you before I left you in the capable hands of my friends," Hades nodded towards the table Killian hadn't wanted to think about. "Because, you see, your new friend Miss Swan has been causing too much damage to my organization, so my vindictive side - did you know I have one? - it wants to punish her."
Killian seethed, pulling against the bonds that held him and hissing threats through the gag in his mouth. He wouldn't let the bastard hurt Emma. He wouldn't.
Hades just laughed. "Now there's the reaction I was hoping for."
I'm going to rip you limb from bloody limb, just you wait.
Hades stepped back from Killian, then, and snapped once. It echoed in the cavernous room, but whoever he was summoning must have been listening because they entered almost simultaneously. Killian never took his eyes off of the man making the demands as the others started to beat him, to burn him, to try and break him.
They were hampered by the pole he was tethered to, Killian thought inanely as he tried to brace himself against the blows coming from both sides. He tried to roll with the punches as it were, but it only seemed to open another vulnerable spot to his attackers. Again and again they hit him, cackling sinisterly every time he grunted or cried out. One of them stomped on his knee and a fire erupted from the joint, tearing a scream from his throat and bringing tears to his eyes that he couldn't bite back.
When they tired of the game, they pulled back, still grinning at him as his head lolled against the pole, the only reason he was still upright. Cold water splashed over him, sending painful shivers through his body. And then they began again.
It could have been minutes or hours later, Killian had lost all sense of time in between the beatings. He could barely breathe around the gag now, his ribs screaming in protest as he slumped away from the pole - the chains that wound around his torso were the only thing that held him up any more.
He straightened up anyway when Hades sauntered back to his side.
"Now, I want you to think about why you're here," Hades spoke over Killian's wheezing. Blood dripped down the side of his face, but he refused to acknowledge it. "You refuse to do as I ask. All of this could have been over if you would have just played the game. But, no, you had to go and be noble, bring hope to the hopeless as it were. And despite some… creative beatings, you just won't break, will you?"
Killian grinned around the bloody fabric in his mouth, trying to see straight as Hades paced around him.
Everything hurt.
His ribs, his face, his bloody hair all felt like they were simultaneously on fire and being smothered with rocks. There was barely an inch of him left free from some kind of hurt, and he dearly wanted to pass out and regain some strength before the next round.
"You have interfered with my carefully cultivated existence and I want nothing more than to break you," Hades continued, almost jovially.
Killian met his stare with a glare of his own. Hades would never break him.
"But I am smart enough to admit my own mistakes. I thought that enough of this" - he waved around the room - "would be enough. I was wrong."
The sadistic grin that Hades graced him with sent a tendril of fear snaking its way around Killian's heart and began to squeeze.
No. No, please.
"No, instead, I am going to collect your friends-"
No!
"-and hurt them."
No! No, please God, no! A strangled whimper escaped around the gag and Killian didn't even have a hope of biting it back.
Hades continued on for awhile, but it didn't matter. Images of his partner Locksley, of Nolan and his wife, of Scarlet or Liam, of Swan being dragged into this warehouse and dismantled in front of him swam through his vision and paralyzed him.
No!
Killian didn't even notice the other men coming into the room until they started to beat him again, nor when Hades left him behind without another word.
"Killian…" a voice whispered, breaking him from the stupor he'd fallen into when they finally left him to sit in his own blood. "Killian, look at me."
Swan.
No! No, get out!
Killian's eyes rolled wildly, trying to find Emma. Trying to warn her.
She was kneeling behind him, hands fumbling with the locks and the handcuffs to try and free him.
He mumbled, begged, shouted through the gag for her to get out of there.
"Shhh, it's all right now. Gimme a second and I'll get you out of here."
Killian shook his head wildly, still trying to speak around the fabric. She had to go.
But he didn't have time to think, only to act when the chains fell away and he crashed into her arms. Killian struggled to his knees, tearing the radio from Swan's fingers before she could call in the officer down code.
"Killian!" she reached for the mike, but he smashed it against the concrete, chagrined to see that he didn't have the strength to break it.
But she seemed to understand.
Thank you, Swan, he thought, hoping that she'd leave him here and run.
He should have known better.
Emma ran her fingers through his hair before untying the fabric and peeling it out of his mouth.
"I could have lost you," she whispered as she hefted him up, bearing the brunt of his weight.
"What's the matter, Swan?" he spoke roughly, biting back the groans of pain as best he could. "Afraid that you won't have enough evidence to make your case if-"
"I could have lost you!" she shouted, her words echoing through the room.
Oh.
Oh!
"Why, Swan, I didn't know you cared," Killian deflected, not quite comfortable with his own realizations.
She smirked, her fingers tightening around his hip as she led him to her car. "Then you're an absolute idiot and you don't deserve that badge, do you?"
Well, she had him there, didn't she?
Killian should be in a hospital.
That was the one thought running rampant through Emma's mind as she lowered him into the backseat of the Bug, trying to ignore the grunts and bitten-off moans every time he moved. Hades had done a number on him in that warehouse. His face was bloody and bruised, one eye swollen completely shut, and Emma didn't want to think about what the rest of him looked like.
He should be in the back of an ambulance with painkillers and antibiotics and an oxygen mask to muffle the sounds of his hurt that tore through her. He wasn't supposed to be able to affect her like this.
She wasn't supposed to fall in love with him.
It had been just another case. One that would put her name on the map, so to speak, but still just another case. He was just another detective, an anonymous source she was supposed to use for information and then send back to his own career.
She wasn't supposed to fall in love.
But she had. He'd tunneled under her walls or scaled them or maybe just blown them all to Hell and crawled into the rubble next to her.
So now what was she supposed to do?
Who could she trust?
Who would trust her?
Internal Affairs wasn't a glorious position. She was reviled in most precincts and outright scorned nearly everywhere she went within the boundaries of her jurisdiction. But someone needed to call men like Gold to task and she was good at what she did.
If it meant she had very few people she could call friend, then that was just a side effect of the job, wasn't it?
She hadn't minded. Not until now.
Now, when Jones needed to be in the back of an ambulance and she couldn't risk it - the call over the radio that she'd nearly made on instinct had almost signed his death warrant as it was. If Gold got wind of where Killian was, unprotected and vulnerable, it would be the end of him.
Him, and her case, but Emma was rapidly figuring out how little the second one mattered to her in light of the threat to the first.
So here she was, driving across town and out of the bustle of the city limits to an old, beat up cabin that Jones had told her about once. Emma was worried - on so many levels - but she needed to get Killian someplace safe where she could help him and she needed it to be somewhere that Hades and Gold wouldn't know to look. The cabin belonged to him and his brother, but they had always held it as some sort of a safe house - he hadn't been clear on why, exactly - so it wasn't in either of their names. It might be a long shot, it might cause more harm than good if it was too far away from help, but it would give them a place to regroup.
As long as Killian wasn't dealing with any injuries that a first aid kit and her emergency response training couldn't handle.
The coordinates (seriously, Jones, there's not even an address?) that she had saved in her GPS told Emma she had nearly an hour to figure out who to call for help and supplies. She had a sneaking suspicion that with Killian being who he was, the supplies would be well taken care of. But as for help… she just prayed that his elusive brother would be there.
God, she needed help.
Killian needed help.
He was nearly silent in the back, crammed onto the too-small seat she'd never thought too much about before. His knees were bent up to his chest, just within reach of her hand if she wanted to touch him. Emma probably should have gotten him into the front seat, at least so he could stretch out, but he'd bitten out "in the back" when she'd opened the door and she'd nearly lost her grip on him when Killian had tried to grab the seat lever.
"No, Jones, there's not enough room," she'd tried to adjust her hands without hurting him further. Every whimper she pulled from him made her stomach clench. She didn't want to hurt him.
"Can't… don't want to be seen. Traffic cams," he'd muttered, still trying to move the front seat. So the backseat - and the illusion of hiding from prying eyes - it was.
The building had exploded not thirty seconds after she'd jammed the keys in the ignition. She'd still been close enough that the shockwave had echoed through her, stealing her breath and making her fingers tighten on the wheel to keep the Bug from fishtailing.
"Guess we know why he left me alive," was Killian's only reaction, his words punctuated with gasps and groans.
Emma stared into the rearview mirror, every instinct ground into her demanding that she call in the billowing smoke and fire that engulfed the warehouse swiftly. She couldn't risk it; not with Killian so injured, in so much danger.
Not when she couldn't protect him alone.
"Don't…" Killian's voice cut off as he shifted and masked a groan. "Don' call't in."
"I won't," Emma assured. "Let's just get you out of here."
But where to go?
"Liam," Killian bit out, and it sounded as if it cost him dearly.
Emma nearly turned around but they'd finally merged onto the highway and there was too much traffic to risk it. "Killian?"
He didn't answer, just a choked moan that let her know he was still there.
Emma hit a frost heave in the road and Killian whined pitifully, letting Emma know he was still somewhat awake in the back seat and sending her hand backwards to soothe over his knee cap without conscious thought.
"Sorry! I'm sorry, I couldn't avoid it!" she begged his forgiveness, her hand tracing frantic circles over the torn denim. His skin underneath was clammy.
"'S ok," Killian grunted somewhat unintelligibly, his fingers tangling in hers. "Jus' keep goin'."
Emma's fingers tightened around his and refused to let go.
She wouldn't take her hand away, not even twenty minutes later when his fingers went completely limp, the backseat now silent save for his even breathing.
Thank God, she thought as she turned off the main road at the GPS-lady's insistence.
The goddamned road wasn't paved. She muttered several curses under her breath, not wanting to wake Killian if he was sleeping and not unconscious behind her. There was no way to avoid all of the potholes and the ruts in the road that years of use without proper maintenance - and bloody tar, God forbid, she thought furiously - had carved into the path.
Ten minutes - and Emma was sure, part of her engine lost to the 'road' - later, and the GPS chimed her arrival. They were in the goddamned middle of nowhere and there wasn't anything resembling a cabin in sight.
"What the hell, Jones?" she muttered, cutting what was left of the engine and unfolding herself from the driver's seat. Untangling her fingers from Jones's was one of the hardest things she'd had to do since she found him and a chill traveled up her spine. She needed to get him some help. But the road didn't continue, and she was surrounded by trees.
They were alone.
And then she smelled smoke.
Hoping beyond hope that there was someone who could help her, Emma locked Killian in the car and followed her nose through the trees and up a hill. Emma was just about to turn around and curse Jones out and then drive him to a hospital and hope that an alias would be enough to keep him safe when she saw it.
There was a tiny little cabin with smoke coming out of the chimney and a wrap-around porch and a snowmobile parked outside. To top it all off, there was an honest-to-God lumberjack to the left of the porch, flannel shirt stretching across his shoulders as he split wood.
If there wasn't the idiot bleeding out in her backseat (stop being dramatic, Emma, that's Jones's job) she'd think that she'd wandered into a dream.
Or a postcard.
It was perfect.
Desperately trying to believe that she was in the right place, Emma slip-slid down the hill towards the mountain man (don't call him that if you want his help, Emma) and called out so she wouldn't startle him.
He jumped anyway.
"Can I help you, lass?" he asked as he shouldered the ax. God, the accent matched Jones's and if this man wasn't related to Killian, Emma would turn in her badge.
"I… I have Killian."
The ax slipped off his shoulder and thudded into the snow at his boots.
"I… he needs help."
Blood drained from the man's face as he stared at her. "Where's my brother?"
Liam. This was Liam Jon-
"Where is my brother?" he shouted before Emma could process the question the first time.
Emma pointed up the hill. "Here. In my car. I didn't… I ran out of road."
Liam shot past her, climbing the hill in record pace and leaving Emma holding the keys, a little shell-shocked. And then she realized that if Liam was anything like his brother, he'd likely break one of her windows rather than waiting for the keys.
"Hey! Wait for me!" she shouted at his back, scrambling up the incline after Liam.
When she got to the car, Liam hadn't broken the window. He was staring inside with one hand clenched around the door handle, the other pressed to the glass as if he could make it disappear, trembling a little.
"Is he…" he whispered, apparently aware that she was behind him. Emma reached around him to unlock the door.
"He passed out about half an hour ago. But he's all right" - Emma shrugged at Liam's sharp look - "more or less."
Liam wrenched open the door and knelt near Killian's head. His fingers carded through his brother's hair and Emma felt as if she were intruding. "I've got you now, little brother. Just rest."
Liam reached into his pocket and fished out a set of keys. "There's a path around the back of the cabin that will bring you around here with the snowmobile."
It was clearly a dismissal, and Emma tried not to hiss her dislike of his orders. Killian was hers, and Emma had never learned to share her toys well.
But this was Killian's brother, and he likely didn't want to share the man in her car with anyone else, either. And the two of them squaring off wouldn't get Killian inside and warm any time soon. So Emma snatched the keys from outstretched fingers and clomped back to the cabin, muttering under her breath the entire way.
It took longer than either of them would have liked, but finally Killian was secure in the sled that would trail behind the snowmobile and Liam took over maneuvering the machine back around to the cabin and the promise of warmth and help.
Emma was off the back before the engine cut out, kneeling at Killian's head and relieved to see one eye slitted open and watching her.
"Hey there," she whispered, a silly little grin on her face. "Welcome back."
Killian tried to shake his head. "Didn't go anywhere. Safe?"
"You're safe, little brother," Liam cut in, undoing the straps over Killian's chest and hips. He smiled softly when Killian's head lolled to meet his gaze. "Let's get you inside and warm, aye? Then you can tell me all about this mess you've found yourself in."
Killian whined audibly, but reached out for Liam's arm and tried to lever himself up.
Emma and Liam leapt forward to support him when he cried out and fell back into the metal sled.
"You wanna try the less stubborn route this time, Jones?" Emma chided.
Liam laughed tightly, but sobered up quickly when Killian didn't have a quick retort.
"Let us do the heavy lifting this time, little brother."
Killian's brow furrowed, but he didn't try to move again.
"I think you mean younger," he whispered and then paused. "And I thought you always said I wasn't heavy?"
"Not what I meant and you know it," Liam argued back.
It took longer than Emma would have liked, and with a lot more cursing on everyone's parts, but they eventually got him standing. With one arm over Liam's shoulders and Emma's fingers snagged in his belt loops, Killian almost looked like he was able to stand on his own.
"One step at a time, Jones," she reminded them both when Killian staggered forward. "We've got you."
"He should be in a hospital," Liam seethed.
"I can hear you, brother," Killian pointed out breathlessly.
"Yes, well you're clearly incapable of making smart decisions right now, so you don't get a vote," Liam hissed back.
Emma could hear the worry in his voice, barely masked under the anger. She felt Killian bristle beneath her grip and rushed to explain the situation as best she could.
"Safe here, Liam," Killian cajoled when she was done, limping up the steps to the porch.
Liam growled, but stopped arguing. "Aye, little brother. You're safe here. Let's get you inside."
The inside of the cabin was just as rustic as she'd imagined. There was a wood-burning stove in one corner of the kitchen and a fireplace ringed by well-loved furniture and bookshelf after bookshelf in the living room. There were a few doors off the main room and the wooden beams were decorated with garland that had seen better days.
"This first door's my room, but the back one's his." Liam nodded his head towards the tightly closed door as they moved carefully past the couches.
Killian whined, looking longingly towards the living room.
"Bed, little brother," Liam ordered. "I don't want you falling off the couch. Again."
Killian glared but stumbled towards his room anyway.
Emma lifted the latch on the door and let it swing inwards, taking in the dark blues and the light wood that filled Killian's room. They sidled through the doorway and Liam transferred Killian's weight to her as he moved to turn down the well-worn quilt and thick blankets.
Killian groaned as he was lowered down onto the mattress but then flopped down onto his side and was nearly unconscious again before they could get him settled.
"I'll get the medical kit we keep on hand if you can get him all the way in bed?" Liam asked gently.
Emma nodded silently, shivering slightly.
"There's more blankets in the closet if you're chilled, lass."
"Emma," she whispered, not taking her eyes off Killian.
"Pleased to finally meet you, Emma," Liam whispered back before leaving the room.
Killian's eye fluttered open as she unlaced his boots and swung his feet up under the sheets. "'M all bloody," he complained, trying to rise again.
"Don't worry about it," Emma scolded, her hand on his shoulder. "Liam and I will get you all cleaned up."
He mumbled something, but it was lost as he drifted off.
Hours later, with the burns and lacerations and bruises swathed in gauze and the clothes he'd been worried about staining his sheets long gone, Killian rested comfortably under a mountain of blankets and pillows. His head canted to one side, soft snores coming from his mouth as he slept. Liam was sitting on the far side of the bed, one hand resting on Killian's shoulder as he, too, dozed in the late evening's peace.
Emma worried.
This wasn't the end of things. Killian was still in danger. Liam was in danger, now, because Emma had brought Killian here. Hades wouldn't take losing his leverage lightly.
But there was nothing to do at the moment but keep the Jones brothers safe. And that started with getting Killian to heal.
When a shiver coursed through Killian, shaking her hand as it carded through his hair, Emma reached out to tuck the blankets more tightly around his shoulders.
Hades hadn't counted on one thing - Emma Swan protected those she loved, and she'd never failed.
He didn't stand a chance.
Awareness came slowly, the pervasive feeling of safety allowing Killian to wake in increments. Everything was a little fuzzy, but as his senses came back to him, one thing remained clear - he could take his time without having to worry. Smell came first - wood smoke and pine and a hint of something distinctly winter. It wasn't the ocean, but that combination of smells was nearly perfect. Then came hearing - he wasn't alone, but the even breaths to his left and the soft snores to his right were both familiar to him. These two would watch his back until he could do it himself. Feeling - a soft mattress, warm blankets, and - best of all - no bonds holding him captive. His mouth tasted like someone had stuffed a week-old sock in it. Finally, Killian cracked open the one eye that wasn't swollen shut and looked around. He saw that Emma and Liam were both asleep in his room at the cabin.
Safe.
He didn't know how long he'd been out or, really, how he'd gotten to the cabin in the first place. The last thing he remembered was trying to curl himself into the back of Emma's horrendous vehicle, trying to ignore everything that hurt and focus on what didn't.
He was pretty sure even his hair hurt.
Killian tried to shift in the bed without waking either Emma or Liam. Judging by the muted light in the room, it was painfully early - even for him. He didn't need to move far, only just enough to dislodge the rumpled sheet from where it was assaulting one of Hades' goons favorite spot to kick.
"Are you all right?" Emma's voice fluttered through the calm.
Killian rolled his head on the pillow so he could see her with his good eye. "Aye, luv. Go back to sleep."
"I think that's my line," she said with a soft smile. "But seriously, with all the pills Liam got you to swallow, you should be sleeping for hours yet. What's up?"
Killian rolled his head back to glare at his brother.
Liam's eyes met his in the darkness and he shrugged. "You needed the rest, little brother," was his only response.
Killian resisted the urge to mutter mockingly back at him.
"Just a mite sore," he allowed when Emma continued to stare at him beseechingly. "I think my back is protesting the sheets."
Emma rose swiftly, but Killian managed to free a hand from the mess of blankets covering him to hold her off. "Really, Swan, go back to sleep."
Emma looked over his head and Killian resisted the urge to try and see what his brother was clearly pantomiming from the other side of the bed. It would take too much effort, really. Whatever Liam had said to her, it was enough that she settled down on the side of Killian's bed, resting her back against the headboard. Killian wouldn't admit it, but her closer proximity settled him even further. As she started to run her fingers through his hair, Killian found it harder and harder to keep his eye open. The last thing he remembered was hearing Liam settle back down into his chair and mutter something that he didn't quite catch.
Hours later, the sun streaming through the crack in the curtains of his window roused Killian once more. Emma was sound asleep next to him, her body partially curled towards him while she still sat mostly upright. He could feel her fingers still tangled in his hair, as if the soothing motion that had lulled him back to sleep had also soothed her enough to rest.
The smell of bacon caught his attention and Killian couldn't help looking over to where Liam had been sitting, still a little surprised to find the chair empty. Before he could think too much on it, a glass of water on his bedside table caught his eye. Slowly, trying not to wake Emma, he shifted until he could focus on it. Only then did he see the folded piece of paper with his brother's familiar scrawl in all capital letters:
DON'T ARGUE WITH ME. TAKE THE PILLS.
Killian scoffed and eyed the small white pills skeptically. The way he was positioned on the bed, it would be nearly impossible to reach the medicine and the water without shifting or sitting up entirely. Surprising himself, Killian realized that he wanted the painkillers, not afraid to let himself float on the haze they would bring. He was sure that Hades didn't know where they were, the cabin was too well hidden in their records for him to find.
Without warning, a bout of nausea assaulted him and Killian found himself struggling to sit up and get out of bed. A bucket was shoved unceremoniously in his lap out of nowhere, but Killian was unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth as his stomach tried to empty itself of the nothing that was inside. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, and didn't really want to think about the breakfast Liam was cooking anymore.
Emma's hand ghosted over his shoulder blades as if she were trying to comfort him but afraid to hurt him. He appreciated the effort as he hugged the bucket to his chest, trying to brace his ribs as best he could while he continued to dry heave. Vaguely, Killian was aware of Liam entering the room and sitting on his other side, holding him close and acting as best he could as a human splint.
Killian heaved a few more times before he slumped over, completely spent and letting Liam hold him up. Emma unwrapped his arms from the bucket and replaced it with a pillow that he hugged to his chest. The soft cushion was heavenly, supporting Killian from the front as Liam lowered him back down until he was propped up on several more pillows. Emma wiped the sweat from his forehead before letting Killian take the damp cloth on his own to wipe his mouth and just breathe into the terrycloth for a few seconds.
When he pulled the washcloth away, Liam was holding the glass of water and a few crackers. Killian looked around the room suspiciously, wondering how they'd managed to get all those supplies into his room while he slept. He was usually a much lighter sleeper, even when he was injured.
"It's all right, Killian," Liam murmured as he sipped at the tepid water. "Just go slow."
Killian nodded weakly, swishing the water around his mouth to try and get rid of the cottony feeling. When he had drained half the glass, Liam held out the pills that had been forgotten in the melee.
"Take these and then try the crackers," Liam ordered.
Killian rolled his head on the pillow again, lamenting the loss of his brother's steady presence pressed against his side. As if he could read minds suddenly, Liam sank down on the mattress until his hip was just grazing Killian's elbow.
"We've got you, little brother. Just take the pills and sleep."
Killian nodded, holding out his hand shakily to accept the painkillers. Liam tipped them into his hand, but had to help him lift his arm long enough to get them into his mouth. He followed those up with a bigger gulp of water than his ribs were ready for. God, he hurt everywhere. The room was tilting a little sickeningly, and Killian wanted nothing more than to drift back to sleep. The blankness of sleep was much more enticing than figuring out how he'd gotten from that warehouse to his bed.
He accepted the crackers warily, chewing them slowly and batting back the thought of bringing them back up, not sure his pain tolerance could handle another bout of sickness so soon. Thankfully, they seemed to settle his stomach a little bit and, once he'd finished the glass of water, he relaxed against the pillows. If his head tilted a little more than strictly necessary towards his brother's warmth, no one said anything.
It didn't take long, with his lowered defenses and the medicine, for him to drift off again.
"What haven't you told me?" Liam rounded on Emma as soon as Killian was snoring softly in the room. He took the bucket from her feet and glared down at her, needing to know if his little brother was safe, if whoever had hurt him was coming.
If he would get the chance to enact a little revenge.
Emma looked at him warily, far more guarded now than she had been as they'd worked in tandem to get Killian settled and cleaned up the night before. "I don't know what you mean," she deflected, standing herself and smoothing the blankets carefully over Killian's chest. She looked at him fondly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair off Killian's forehead.
"I mean," he growled, resisting the urge to fix the blankets Emma had just moved, "that I need to know what's coming next. I need to know exactly what I have to protect my brother from."
"Fire and brimstone, probably," Emma snarked under her breath, shooing him towards the door.
Liam balked, but relented quickly when Killian shifted in his sleep, his eyes fluttering open as he muttered something unintelligible. They both froze until he fell back into slumber and then they slipped out of the room. Liam left the door open so he could hear if his brother needed anything, but he needed answers almost as much as he needed to see that Killian was still all right.
Emma waited until they'd reached the living room. She started idly opening drawers and cabinets, looking for who knew what. Finally, she started talking. "You know about Gold, about what I'm… what we're investigating him for. We started to realize some time back that he was being backed by Gregory Hades. As far as I can tell, Killian found something and went to check it out on his own." Emma paused and Liam tried to keep the horror off his face.
He very clearly failed. "Hades did… that?"
Emma looked at him strangely, and Liam wondered exactly what she was reading on his face. She couldn't possibly know that… no, of course not. No one knew about that. Except for maybe…
"What aren't you telling me?" Emma turned the question around on him and Liam nearly balked.
Calm down, you bloody fool. Don't give yourself away like some suspect in interrogation, he thought angrily at himself. "Not what I asked, Emma. I want to know what you've gotten my brother into."
"Is this like the protective big brother talk where you want to know if I'm good enough for Killian?" Emma asked him and he latched onto the deflection.
Liam shook his head. "No. Because I already know you're not good enough for him."
"What?" she asked incredulously.
"Killian blames himself for Milah's death, but I was there that night. I know what happened." Liam forced the memories of that night back into a box and locked it securely. "And now this, him getting kidnapped and beaten. Bringing him here instead of to a hospital."
"He insisted!" Emma defended her actions.
"Aye, and he was clearly in a right state to do so," Liam snarked. "You should have done what was best for him."
"I thought I was. Maybe it was a mistake, but it's one that he and I both made. I was trying to save his life!"
Liam looked over to her, trying to maintain his nonchalance and not give into the anger he'd felt at seeing Killian unconscious in her car. "Instead, you may as well have pushed him off a cliff. He could have-"
"Are you always this self-righteous?" she interrupted him, taking a step forward to crowd him
"When it comes to my brother, yes." There were a lot of faults that Liam would scoff at or ignore - being concerned with his brother's well-being wasn't one of them. "If he can take down Gold, then he'll forgive himself. He can move on. When that happens, stop thinking about your own career and your own desires and leave him be."
Emma broke eye contact then, looking down and away. He had almost escaped when she stopped him in his tracks. "I know you're hiding something. I don't care that you're hiding it from me; I'll find out what it is one way or another. But Killian worships the ground you walk on. He thinks that you're a much better man than him. I don't know if I can believe it. Not looking at you now. You're his hero; he doesn't think you can do any wrong. If you're hiding it from him, too, then I'm not the only one who needs to let him go."
She walked out of the living room through the front door, closing it quietly despite the fury radiating off of her. Liam could feel the silence of the cabin bearing down on him, and he swallowed back the regret her parting words had left behind.
Killian would forgive him if he found out what Liam had done.
He hoped.