A/N: Hey Team!
This chapter actually wasn't in my original layout. But then I realised I'd thrown in so many unexplained comments and things that it needed to be resolved in Killian's backstory. So here it is! (Also, this is why the story keeps getting longer and longer by the minute =P)
In addition to this, I've started throwing around ideas for an AU CaptainSwan fanfic, which will be new territory for me. But I'm not sure if I should wait for this to be done or do them simultaneously. Ideas?
Thank you for reading and reviewing and favouriting and following! I love you all! Enjoy. xx
Prisoner AZ00143
11 Years Ago
"Welcome General Jones," a guard said from the corridor outside Killian's cell. He was crouched in the corner, his face hidden by shadows. It had been two days of no food, but he was hardly unused to it. As a child, food wasn't exactly a necessity – survival was. So he ignored the pains in his stomach and imagined himself somewhere far away; curled up in his bed with Milah at his side.
But the guard wasn't exactly keeping his voice down, "AZ00143 is locked up on the first floor."
"Move her," the General replied. "I oversaw her blood being drained but I don't trust that her power is completely gone. Solitary confinement. Watch her for a few weeks then move her back."
"Also, some guy broke in yesterday. He might have been trying to free someone."
"I'll be in my office. Bring him in in, oh…say an hour?"
An hour and Killian was getting out.
Well, not technically getting out, but he was getting out of this dank little hole for a moment. And that moment could present an escape route.
An hour came incredibly slowly. Two guards hoisted him to his feet none too gracefully and pushed him out the door. With his hands behind his back, he hobbled on disused feet down the corridor and up a flight of stairs, where he was faced with a dimly lit floor; two candles lighting a door. With a quick knock, it was opened and Killian was forced inside and to his knees.
The door was snapped shut and it was just him and the general in the room. Killian Jones bit his tongue angrily as his blue eyes stared at the ground. He was trying to cut through his ropes with the sharp edge of his boots designed specifically for this.
"What were you hoping to gain by coming here, pirate?"
Killian didn't answer.
The reason why he and his brother had been abandoned on the sea was no mystery. The reason why they had grown up gentlemen of good form was no coincidence. It was all in pursuit to be anything other than the man who stood before him.
"Father," Killian breathed, looking up at the man above him. The hard face was one he had not seen in 18 years. And as he looked down at his son with disgust, Killian knew he should expect no pity, nor mercy from this man.
"Why are you here Killian?"
"I came to free a friend, father," Killian spat, "from this hole you call a prison. Since when did you become the responsible type anyway General, albeit on the wrong side but-"
Killian was silenced by a knock across his face when his father's fist cracked his temple. Blood trickled from his forehead but he ignored it, refusing to bend to the man who didn't even deserve to hold the name of a father.
"So this is where you've been?" Killian goaded, looking back up at the towering man. "Defeating a country that was peaceful so that your King could feel good about himself while Bahria's people die from starvation and disease."
General Jones held back his anger that burned within his eyes, staring down at his son in disgust. "You would be wise to hold your tongue boy. Or you will be sent to the first floor to die."
"Because you're too cowardly to do it yourself, father?"
"What do you want me to say to you Killian?" his father answered angrily before looking down at his pathetic son and ordering, "Get up. You're a Jones."
"Am I, though?" Killian replied, as he struggled to his feet, not for a moment removing his eyes from the man. "You didn't seem to care eighteen years ago. Power too much of a temptation, was it General?"
His father leapt at him, a curved dagger at his throat, but Killian didn't even flinch. It would have hurt more if his father hadn't left him when he was five years old to live at sea, leaning on his older brother because he needed to. Living off the streets, and stealing to survive until they thought they'd found a better life in King Florien's navy…but it meant nothing. They were all corrupt; all of them.
Killian Jones had grown up without a father because his father cared more for power than for his sons.
Pulling his hands through the mostly cut binds behind his back, the pirate twisted the dagger from his father's hand and began the slow advance upon him, the man's face a mask of surprise.
"You've learnt well son."
And it was that which pushed Killian to breaking point. Before he knew what his anger had forced him to do, the dagger was lodged in his father's gut.
Staring into the man's eyes, Killian twisted the blade and his father fell to the ground, a glorious dagger hilt protruding from his stomach as blood began to soak his shirt and the dirty stone floor.
"You…are not my son," his father breathed in defiance, his last words wasted on the pirate who looked at him filthily and bid him farewell.
"I'm glad."
Present Day
Ella awoke with a start. It was still dark outside and even with the heavy blanket covering her, she found herself shivering with the nightmare. It was strangely vivid, and curious considering she'd never dreamt nightmares that didn't involve herself. And in daylight hours, it had never even crossed her mind that that was how Hook killed his father. He hadn't let it slip; it was the one thing she thought she would never find out.
And it came to her in a dream so sure of itself that it had to be real.
Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she rolled up the blanket atop her, wondering who had put it there, and climbed up on deck where she found the sky was completely dark in the moments before the dawn. And the captain of the Jolly Roger was lying in a fitful slumber upon his makeshift bed of rags. Ella was confused as to why he wasn't in his cabin – obviously Tink wouldn't mind – or at least below decks and away from the cold.
But judging by his flailing, he would have rolled out of a hammock long ago.
Bending down beside him, Ella battled with herself whether to wake him from his troubling dream or simply leave him. In the end, she knew that dreams could potentially be worse than reality, and she brought her hand down to his shoulder in an attempt to awaken him from his slumber.
11 Years Ago
There were no guards outside the door as Killian exited the room. Climbing back down the stairs, he found his sword was placed behind a guard's desk. So eager was he to get out, that Killian simply knocked him harshly over the head with his fist, forcing him into unconsciousness. Grabbing his sword, dagger and gun, he made his way down the next flight of stairs where he was swamped by guards.
Thankfully they were all distracted by something happening within the cells. And it was then that Hook realised he was on the fourth floor – and the man speaking was Shang.
He wasn't speaking of the great feats in his win against the Northern Kingdom; he wasn't even speaking of the beauty of Shayan.
Instead, he spoke of a woman. Beautiful, and happy…
And gone.
So when two guards shuffled and Hook gained a clear line of view to the former Captain, Shang looked up and locked his brown eyes on Killian's blue. There, he shook his head from side to side almost imperceptibly, his face so utterly hopeless and defeated that Killian took his words as truth. It was what Bahnen Nain did to people. If you entered here…soon after you wanted to die.
And Killian didn't want to leave his friend behind, but trying to get through those guards was a suicide mission. And backing away slowly, he gave a small nod to Shang before heading back down three more flights of stairs until he came out on the bottom floor.
He snuck into a dark corridor when he heard guards coming, not expecting anyone to be there. But there was. She didn't sound old, but she was wearied. Her face was hidden, but her hands were visible; clasped tightly in shackles to the wall behind her.
"I tried to escape earlier," her voice began from the shadows. "I grabbed the key to the back door rather than the one to my cuffs. So…if you want it…"
Her voice trailed off as Killian took a step closer. Her face was hidden in darkness, but her body was lit up, showing plainly the bruises across her veins and the number branded on her skin.
"Get out," the girl murmured, her face still turned away as she slid him the key across the stone floor. "Get out while you still can. They'll be blocking off the drains…distracted…go!"
"Thank you," Killian breathed in astonishment, taking a step forward. "Honestly, I don't know how I'll ever repay you."
"Don't worry yourself about is," she whispered in defeat as he backed out of the room, "Hopefully I'll be dead before you get the chance to."
And it was with pity in his eyes that Killian left the girl there to God knows what fate, Shang to his ultimate demise and his father's dead body to rot in Hell.
Walking out the back door seemed too easy after the events of the day. And as he pocketed the key, he couldn't control the shaking of his hands and body. All the way back to his ship, he kept his head down, praying not to be captured. The girl's last words echoing in his head; Shang's hopelessness as he rejected Killian's help…his father's blood upon the floor…
He fell into Milah's arms the moment he stood upon the deck, clutching at her as though she were the only thing real to him; the only thing keeping him alive. And she whispered soothing words to calm him as only she could.
But after that day, Killian Jones found it extremely hard to care about anything.
Present Day
Hook's eyes blinked open, the first think he saw, a tattooed arm that was tracing lines up and down his face murmuring, "Hook, please wake up." But he didn't trust his senses, and flinched away from the touch. Looking up, he saw Ella's worried face, her violet eyes staring at him, creased with concern.
"Hook?" she asked hesitantly.
"It was you," he breathed in epiphany, glancing back down at her arm where her number was branded on her skin. "You were AZ00143."
He had never made the connection before, between Ella and the prisoner who saved him in Bahnen Nain. But now that he thought about it, who else could it have possibly been? A female warrior, captured in battle –
"I'm so sorry Hart," he said, looking back to her wide-eyed. "I didn't save you. I didn't save him."
"Hey," she gave a soft smile, hoping to calm him. His dreams must have been similar to hers then, dreaming of Bahnen Nain. But those early days were a haze to her. A haze of lashes and daggers and blood and bruises…
And the handsome pirate she had thrown the key to.
"I gave you it," Ella said in response with a small sad smile. "Besides, if I hadn't helped you then, you wouldn't be here to help me now. I think we've come full circle, don't you Hook?"
He gulped down the fear that his nightmare had brought back and nodded, trying to calm his racing heart. His thoughts were whirling as she placed her hand on his, he suddenly realised there was pity in her eyes. Why would she pity him…
"I saw what happened when you went to Bahnen Nain," she admitted. Hook looked at her in astonishment, at first refusing to believe it. Surely it was a trick, to get him to tell her about his secrets…
"General Jones did horrors to a lot of people Hook," she continued, looking at him earnestly. She wasn't quite sure how they had shared a dream, but this was Neverland. Weird shit like that happened all the time. Ella was running her hands up and down her arms lightly. Where bruises used to sit, there were now the faintest of scars. Hook shifted upright in order to take a better look. He frowned as he looked at them.
"When I was taken from the battlefield by General Jones," Ella began, speaking slowly as though the words were painful, but she knew they had to be said, "I was taken because my blood had healing properties. And the only way he could utilise that, was to drain me of it."
Hook didn't say anything, merely looking up at her with a sad sigh, running his hand unconsciously over the lines. Ella didn't notice for a moment, until she felt his hand drifting lower down her forearm. She pushed his hand away and shot upwards and away from him, leaving him in bewilderment.
"Ella, those scars aren't– "
"I'm not going there Hook," she answered shortly, jumping up on the railing and using her plans as a distraction to avoid the subject with him. "I'm going to get my stuff. Meet me in an hour on the beach."
And Hook stared after her, wondering why the girl who was running away with him, still had so many secrets to hide. Herself being the most important of them all.