a/n: my apologies for missing yesterday's update. i was out and then by the time i was home, i was tired and didn't want to do anything. hope this chapter may clear up any questions and is entertaining and sufficient for the lateness!

Killian never knew trying to locate his brother would be so bloody difficult. He could very much just go to the King and ask, but even he's not daft enough to go bother King George and ask about something like that. Who's going to listen to an orphan boy searching for his elder brother that was kidnapped by his Highness' Royal Navy? It sounds like he's been brainwashed.

Life without Liam has been hard in its own way. He misses his brother dearly, so intensely, that some nights, it's impossible for him to sleep. He stays up and drinks rum, a habit of his that doesn't seem to be going anywhere soon. In fact, it's growing on him. The burn of his selected poison is satisfying - just enough of it and he can wake up the next morning not remembering what happened, though that comes with the sacrifice of a pounding headache the moment he rises from wherever he passes out.

It's certainly an upgrade, though, from the cot he once slept in to the Captain's cabin.

And it's even better that he gets to split the shares of money they manage to make through trade. He's not stupid anymore to gamble away things, at least. The crew has grown just slightly, enough men aboard so they can all help with sailing this old ship.

To be honest, he's still hardly captain material. God, if Liam were here, he'd be the Captain. He'd be a much better one than his younger brother.

When he wakes, it's not to a very pleasant reason. It's far too early in the morning and there's a Navy ship approaching them. Surely to see if they're smuggling things across different kingdoms, but there's nothing he needs to be afraid of. Just to be cautious, though, he slides his sword to where it usually rests on the holster on his hip and makes his way to the upper deck. And just like that, there's a ship flying the Royal Navy's flag. King George's, no doubt. He can recognize that flag anywhere now as he's been looking out for it ever since the day he lost his brother.

Killian has his arms crossed over his chest, just as someone brings him his spyglass. He only briefly thanks them before he uses it, checking the amount of men on that deck.

There's more men on theirs than his own ship here, of course. He sighs, pocketing the nearly broken spyglass and promptly rubs his forehead. "We won't attack unless they prove to be hostile. We've nothing to hide, anyway."

It is the mercenaries who evades the law, the pirates, and fugitives who are the ones to be taken by the Navy. Typically, at least. He's not sure what to expect now.

Just as the Navy ship is closer, they're shouting to hold their spot.

Killian clenches his jaw in anticipation.

But, oh, but then he notices something.

It's Liam, standing on the ship giving out commands. He's on that Navy ship. Killian's eyes widen and he presses himself against the starboard side of the ship, his hands pressing heavily against the wood as he peers over. "Liam? Liam! Bloody hell, Liam is that you?"

When the figure that is supposedly Liam pauses and turns to look, he knows for a fact it's his brother.

&&.

Killian runs up, hugging his elder brother tightly. Finally, he thinks, after an entire year, finally!

Liam lets out a grunt but then laughs, wrapping his own arms around.

He doesn't want to let go. God, he had been so lost for that entire year. He had only one goal the entire time - to find his brother. Killian doesn't know how he managed, but he did because now he's here with his brother. He's safe again, brothers reunited after a rather...unfortunate separation.

"Killian," his brother sighs, pulling back, but a hand resting on his back. "You're alive."

"Ah - aye." Killian nods, still trying to believe that his brother was right here. "You - you're alive."

They're both grinning like fools, sure, but he's been waiting for this day for a year, now. A little more than a year to be exact, but it's been a year.

"You're -" he glances around the fine vessel of a ship, "- a captain of the Royal Navy?"

Liam nods. "Aye. After I was taken away, the King had granted me my request of joining the Navy. I had to work through the ranks, but apparently everyone's been impressed and I managed to get to it rather quickly. Ever since, I've been on missions - far from here - but I've been keeping an eye out for you, too, no matter how much it seemed like it was impossible."

Killian is still feeling that same bliss from earlier flood through his veins, pumping so much excitement and contentment into him. "I've been looking for you all year round," he admits quietly. "I've missed you, brother. And look at that -" he laughs some more, "- you're worthy of being a captain. I bet your men respect you greatly."

"I'd hope so," he said quietly. "But, what do you say, little brother? Join me?"

&&.

He dedicates himself to studying in the Royal Navy. There's a lot of pressure on his shoulders, but he doesn't even notice that as he devotes himself to being the best sailor possible. There's no more rum, and no more fighting.

Nights are spent reading and reading, then multiples pages in a journal full of writing. It's notes. He learns new languages, new techniques. He battles endlessly with a sword, sparring until his wrist hurts and his arms are sore. Killian undergoes new experiences he can't possible forget.

(Many nights, he doesn't go to sleep willingly. He falls asleep at a desk in his small study cabin, face stuck to a page of his journal, a candle still melting closely. Liam's the one to jostle him awake gently and urge him to sleep in bed so he doesn't wake up with a crick in his neck (a bit late).)

He wants to make Liam proud, and this is the one way he can do that. And one day, maybe he can become a captain, a finer one than before.

They both seek honour, after all.

&&.

While it certainly takes him essentially a year to get there, he becomes a Lieutenant of the Royal Navy...and under Liam's command, too.

The Jewel of the Realm is the fastest ship in all of the kingdom's in this world. Killian has never been on a better ship with a better captain before.

"You ready for our mission, Lieutenant?"

Killian looks at his brother, straightening his posture, both hands behind his back and chin tilted upward just a tad bit. "Aye, Captain."

Liam grins, shouting for the men to get ready to set sail before turning back to him. "Good," he responds, "because we're going on quite an adventure."

&&.

They arrive at an island that has yet to have men set foot on it. He's beyond excited to find new places that have been unexplored yet. Liam demands for his crew to stay put and keep the Jewel in place as he and the Lieutenant take a longboat onto shore.

It takes the both of them some while to be able to row their ways to shore, but they make it.

"What's the plant we're to be searching for, brother?" Killian asks, stepping out of the boat.

Without the crew around, he can address him as he usually would. Whenever he's around others, he's ought to say 'captain' and 'sir.' There cannot be any lack of respect upon that as it's frowned upon.

Liam unravels a roll of paper. "Dreamshade. It's said one drop of this plant can heal thousands."

It sounds...unbelievable. Unlikely, if anything. Though he's now learned to question less. "Any idea where we start searching -"

"You two seem lost."

Both of them jump to attention, drawing their swords out and holding it straight ahead.

Killian swallows, assessing the person standing in front of them. He appears almost to be a boy. "This place is said to be uninhabited," he says slowly, "so who are you?"

"Uninhabited?" The figure laughs. "I'm Pan. I've lived here - oh, let's see - most of my life."

He clenches his jaw. His brother, however, speaks up.

"We don't want any trouble, we're merely searching for a plant." Liam holds out the paper to show.

"Dreamshade?" Pan questions with a raise of his eyebrow. "What an odd request. Who exactly sent you?"

"Our King," Liam responds. "Now, do you know where it is or not?"

Pan shakes his head. "King? We have no Kings in Neverland. Just me. Besides, that plant won't heal as you think it does. It kills."

Killian clenches his jaw even tighter, starting to doubt the mission. He knows he shouldn't, but who's to doubt the person who's lived on this island their entire life? It only makes sense to take what Pan is saying to heart. To be logical about all of this instead of jumping head in.

He lowers his sword just slightly and looks at Liam. "What if he's right, brother?"

"No need to fear," Liam reassures him. "He's speaking nonsense."

"Uh, hello, I'm right here," Pan says.

He swallows thickly, glancing between Pan and Liam. "But -"

"Lieutenant, we are not doubting the King we serve under," he states with the tone of authority.

Instead of fighting back, he settles and just nods, even though he doesn't agree. Being obedient is all he can do now. He should trust the King. Trust his brother.

Liam lowers his sword a bit, too. "Can you take us to it?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Magic comes with a price, after all."

&&.

The appearance of the plant looks prickly enough. Dangerous, if anything. Killian is still doubting, and before his brother can possibly do anything rash, he tries once more.

"Liam, what if it really is poison? Lethal poison?"

"Stop being so ridiculous," Liam immediately responds, rolling his sleeves up. "Let me prove to you it's not poisonous."

Maybe his brother is right. Maybe he's just being too bloody paranoid too see past the fact that Pan had been taunting them. He simply watches as Liam cuts a piece of the plant and then scrapes it over his forearm.

"See?"

For a moment, he believes, but then Liam is tumbling, tripping over his steps, and Killian immediately runs to his brother's side, softening the fall as they lower to the ground. Frantically, she shakes Liam. "No, brother, bloody hell, Liam!" he says, the tears already burning his eyes and threatening to fall. God damn it, he can't lose Liam for a second time - and for good, this time, he can't. "Liam, come on," he says, voice cracking as he shakes his brother.

"I told you," Pan's voice rings.

Killian sharply turns his head, looking up at Pan. "Please, there's got to be an antidote," he begs Pan, his hands shaking as he holds Liam against his thighs. It must be an uncomfortable position for his brother, but he doesn't care. There has to be a way to save him.

Pan tuts, shaking his head as he walks a little closer. "Sorry lads. Seems like your brother asked for his death when he didn't heed either of our warnings," he says with a casual shrug. "Pity."

"No, no," he mutters, looking down at Liam. "Liam, you can't leave me," he says. And he says it, over and over until he can't hear himself utter the words any further.

He begs Pan once more, but he insists there isn't a solution to this. In just a blink of an eye, Pan is gone, and Killian's left to himself with his brother. Dying brother.

"Liam," he whispers, his hand resting on his brother's chest.

"I'm sorry," Liam croaks (so weak, God he sounds so weak), "Killian."

"I can't lose you." Killian hiccups as the tears begin to really stream down his face. "Not again, Liam, please don't let me lose you again. Not like mother and father - please."

He opens his mouth, wanting to pray, wanting to do something, bring Pan back and beg him some more, but the words don't come. They fall empty on his tongue as he just holds Liam closely, his breathing ragged and his heart racing. His head is muddled with thoughts. The feeling of loneliness already begins to settle in his heart, deep in his gut, as Liam's breathing slows.

Even though he's holding onto his brother, his only best friend, his only family, his hands are shaking. He shakes his head in denial, refusing to believe any of this is true. He thinks he'll wake up from a bad dream and there'll be Liam trying to comfort him like on the many nights he's had terrible nightmares. Except, when he opens his eyes, it's not, and Liam's officially gone, his heart having stopped, his breathing no longer there, either, and Killian's heart drops to the floor.

No, it drops lower than that. It's drowned to the bottom of the sea. A part of him is gone forever.

&&.

There's no energy. He has no motivation as he tiredly manages to carry his brother back to the boat and row them back to the Jewel.

He avoids most eye contact with the crew. Everyone goes silent the moment his body is brought up. Killian can't even bring himself to look at his brother anymore. He's gone. For real, this time. Maybe if he doesn't look, things will go back to normal.

&&.

Just after leaving Neverland, they sail a little more, no where in particular.

Killian goes to bed angry and sad all the same. To be fair, he doesn't sleep at all that night. He just lays in bed, staring up at the wood of the Jewel, and thinks about where he's going now. The King did lie to them. Sent them on a suicide mission that ended up with his own beloved brother dead. Every time dead comes up, he has to clench his eyes shut so tight until it hurts, until he can only see stars behind his eyes and not the limp body of the man he looked up to so much, the man he idolized for all of his life.

But, oh, does he dream. He dreams so hard that by morning, his brother will come knocking and drag him out of his cabin.

Though that doesn't happen. When the sun finally rises past the horizon and one of the men come knocking at his door, claiming they're ready for the ceremony, Killian just mumbles his acknowledgement in response and tries to steel himself for the moment. And he figures he successfully does.

He's wearing his uniform as he stands in the centre of the ship, watching them dump his brother's body (at least he's in a sack), into the sea. He's sure his brother would have wanted a burial at sea. It's only fair since the sea runs in their blood.

You'll never leave my side, brother, he thinks as he hears the splash.

After a while more, he angrily sheds the Navy jacket, throwing it into the sea.

"We are sworn to serve the King and the realm." His voice is so tired. "They sent us to retrieve an unthinkable poison, one that killed our dear Captain..." Killian swallows thickly after he's climbed one of the ropes, making sure every one of the crew can see him. "Never again shall we take such orders serving the King, fighting his wars! That is the way of dishonour! And all you who disagree, flee now or walk the bloody plank! For those who stay will be free men, and I will your Captain."

He's started quite the ruckus now. Everyone seems to agree, though. You were a fine Captain, Liam, he thinks, seeing how all these men gather along with him and don't deny him the speech he gives loudly. There's not one ship within miles of them.

Killian talks quite a bit more.

"They took my brother from me, and now I'm gonna take everything they've got, starting with this ship! We no longer sail by the Jewel of the Realm," he declares, "we now sail as the Jolly Roger!"

He tells one of the men to grab the paints below deck.

The Jolly Roger.

"And when they come for us, I want them to know exactly what we are." He looks among the men. "Pirates!"

Not one false statement has been made. Everything he's declared among the men, his men, are absolutely true. They will be pirates and no one will have control over them. They will not serve under a corrupt monarch. They will all be free men.

&&.

The next time they reach port, they invest in barrels of rum.

And Killian reverts back to his drinking habits faster than he could have thought.

&&.

Liam never knew what death would feel like. Until, well, he died.

And he's not entirely certain it's suppose to feel so blissful.

It feels like he's waking up from a century year old sleep. He has to peel his eyes open as if it's a struggle, and the light, oh, the light blinds him greatly. There's a figure, a shadow approaching him, and though he's grateful for the presence of that, he lifts his hand up, blocking the light as he slowly lets his eyes adjust otherwise, and notes it's merely a man. Somewhat old, but not much of an elderly man.

"Liam Jones," he says.

Liam swallows, slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position and then to standing. It feels weird to be standing on his feet. It's as if he hasn't used them in so long.

"Aye," he responds, "that's me." He drops his hand eventually, looking around. There's faint images of places, happy people and all. "Am I - I'm dead, aren't I?"

The man laughs. "You are, in some way. It's hard to explain now that I think you're rather stubborn, but you've been 'resurrected.' That's the only way I can possibly explain in simple terms."

"Resurrected? Am I going to live once again?" His hopes are high that he'll be able to see his brother again. Oh God, Killian. He must be devastated. He visibly frowns at the thought, his frown then pressing to a straight line as he looks up at the man.

"Not yet." The intriguing man clasps his hand behind his back. "You see, there are angels and demons in this world. Not as terrible as you may perceive them, but they do exist." He nods his head toward Liam. "You are an angel. Fallen, in any case, but you are an angel."

Liam doesn't believe this. I'm an angel? he thinks to himself.

"Saints...sinners...you've heard before. You're an angel - a saint."

Swallowing is just an attempt to get the lump in the back of his throat away, but he's still confused. All of this sounds so far-fetched, but is it really by now? "Alright," he sighs out slowly. Hesitantly. "Is everybody categorized into saints and sinners? Or angels and demons?"

The man smiles, shaking his head. "No," he answers, "definitely not."

"Then what of -" he points, "- all those people?"

He looks around, smile still lingering. "They're just people who truly belong up here. Like you. Those of honour, those who do true good."

Then he wonders about Killian. If he's up here, then what of his little brother? His last words had just been him admitting he was sorry. Pathetically. While he is glad, to some extent, that he's up in Gods' above heaven, he's not really happy. Liam looks down at his feet after a while.

"And you wonder what of your brother."

Liam lifts his head. "Aye, I do."

"He..." The mysterious man, who's all knowing of this nonsense (or not entirely nonsense), hesitates to speak. "He is not as fortunate as you."

Furrowing his brows, he shakes his head. "What do you mean not as fortunate as me?"

Instead of getting an answer, he gestures for Liam to follow, which he does. "Come. We'll go on a bit of a walk and I'll try to answer what questions you have."

&&.

He's aware that the man is trying to break this news to him subtly. Or, well, politely. And all he can think about is his brother not being anywhere near him. Not being a 'saint.' Liam is still having a difficult time believing this - he is a bloody angel.

"I don't mean to...be rude, but wasn't your brother an accident?"

Liam clenches his jaw at that. The man isn't wrong.

"Yes," he grunts, "but what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well, for starters, it's a way for me to lead into what I've got to say." The man inhales a deep breath, then letting it out slowly. "Typically speaking, those who aren't angels -"

"Devils."

"- yes, those. Sometimes they aren't meant to truly be born."

His eyes widen as he understands what the man is trying to tell him. Subtle or not, it's blunt enough for him to understand that he's rather frustrated with the thought. "So, you're saying..."

"Yes."

"My brother's a devil. A sinner." He stops walking, staring blankly ahead of him. It's sunny up here, a beautiful recreation of the world below. "Killian is a sinner. Born one."

"And he'll be one. For centuries."

"What?"

"Lifespans for devils and angels, even if they're human, are rather long, you see." The man turns around and then looks up, his hands still behind his back. Liam stares at the back of the man's head in disbelief. However, it's not all. "You would have lived as long as he, had you not managed to die the way you did. The mythology of us being inherently immortal isn't entirely false, although it's not entirely accurate either. We were created that way."

"So..."

The man sighs, turning to look back at him. "Immortality works oddly. You can be immortal down there, but since you ended your life with a deadly poison, the immortality thing was rejected. While you may live for many centuries, something that reaches your heart like poison is more inevitable."

"So you're essentially telling me I'm a special one given the fact I ended up dying far too early from an idiotic mistake."

"Well -" he clears his throat, "- if you prefer to be as blunt as that, then yes."

"Bloody well great to know, mate," he mutters, rubbing his forehead. "But my brother. Does that mean he'll live a life of darkness? He's already fought so much of it before."

He gets a small smile in return. "Fate can only determine so much, Liam Jones."

&&.

Killian spends late nights drinking himself to oblivion. Especially on days where the memory of his brother grows fairly unbearable. He'll lock himself in the Captain's quarters, drinking and drinking until he's slumped in his chair. This room reminds him far too much of his brother, but he's got no choice but to sleep here anyway. He's not going to thwart his way back tot he old quarters with other men.

The first night after turning to pirates, he had kicked at the chairs and the table, at the edge of the bed. It definitely hurt, but the pain was quickly numbed by the far more painful memories.

Now he spends his time running his fingers over the spines of books Liam once read. He spends his time flipping through old journals. He traces his finger along the spyglass his brother had gotten him as a gift from one of their old travels, or over the words scribbled over with fine penmanship over the papers in the journals.

Recovery, as he's realized, takes a lot of time. It's a gut-wrenching pain to bear at the thought of his brother really being gone from this world. As much as he keeps his brother's memory in his heart, it's never really enough. It's become more of a habit for him to spend time sulking about. He's no longer the old Killian Jones. He continues his own way of good honour and form, continues to treat his men in a relatively fair fashion as Liam once did, but none of that is ever going to be enough to replace his brother.

Ships are pillaged entirely and then they plunder all the gold and resources they can get. They trade, on the occasion as well. They restock at many different docks. There's never staying behind in any place for long.

They're young. They're inexperienced as pirates, but from what he knows, he's not going to be going anywhere soon from this new role. Being a pirate is so freeing. He doesn't need to be a straight-laced Lieutenant in the Royal Navy. He doesn't need to obey the rules of any upper-class men. He doesn't need to complete tasks he once needed to on a daily basis because of who he was.

He was free. And freedom, that was all he could ask for now. Killian couldn't ask for Liam back, but he could ask for freedom.