His legs were losing strength, his lungs were burning, but he had to keep up with his father and brother. The curse was close and he didn't want to be left behind.
The group kept moving quickly farther and farther into the dense forest, hoping it would provide some kind of protection from the swirling purple clouds behind them. Killian could hear Smee, his father's first mate, struggling to keep up with them. That being said, he was still doing his best to make sure the boys went faster to elude the grasp of the Evil Queen.
"Keep running!" he was yelling from behind them. "It's getting closer! Keep running!"
So Killian ran and ran, jumping over plants and ducking under branches. He was so focused on moving forward that he barely realized he had run past his father, who had tripped over a tree root. Liam and Killian both turned to reach for their father, trying desperately to help him up, but the captain's foot was firmly wedged between the root and the ground.
They looked back to see his trusted first mate farther down the road, too tired to run anymore and resigned to his fate. Killian watched in horror as Smee was swallowed up by the curse.
There was no time to wait and there was no longer any way to avoid its path. The captain couldn't risk his sons getting stuck in this curse because they were trying to save him. He would have to sacrifice being swept up by it in order to hold out hope that his boys would be able to escape its wrath.
Captain Hook pulled out a glass-like bean from his vest pocket and tightened his fist around it. "You have to leave me, boys. You have to save yourselves."
"No, papa!" Liam screamed as he struggled with the root. "We'll get you out!"
He kept trying to pull and tug and scrape away at the tree rooting his father in place, but the captain put his trusted hook gently over his son's struggling hand. "Be still, Liam."
Then he smiled sadly and threw the bean into a small clearing. The boys turned to watch as a large hole opened up before them with a bright green light coming from within it. Hook gave a grateful sigh. That portal had cost him so much, but it worked and that's all that mattered to the battered pirate.
"Remember what I told you," their father instructed. "Hold each other's hands and think of the Darlings in London."
"But we don't even know the Darlings or where London is," Liam replied.
"Think of the words, and think of them together, and you will land there," he calmly said to them. "You have to go now, boys. I'll find you soon enough, but you have to go." Liam and Killian threw their arms around their father, tears streaming down their faces. "Promise me you'll take care of each other."
"I promise, papa."
"I promise, too," Killian replied, struggling to get the words out in between his harsh sobs.
The captain then gruffly pushed them away. "Now go!" he yelled. "GO!"
The boys ran towards the green light, stopping at the edge of the portal that had opened up before them. Killian grabbed his brother's hand and turned just in time to see his father engulfed in the purple haze of the curse. Then he looked at Liam, squeezing his hand tighter. He promised his father that he would hold on to his brother and he was determined to keep his promise, even if it meant using every bit of strength he had left.
"Ready, brother?" Liam asked tentatively.
Killian simply nodded, too scared to say anything as the wind began whipping up around them.
"Remember the Darlings in London!" his brother yelled.
Liam gave Killian's hand a slight tug and then they jumped. The portal's light flashed up around them as it recorded their destination and set its course. But the curse was coming on strong. It began to swirl around them in midair, tickling their ears and stealing their memories from inside their heads. The portal tugged harder on the children, finally sweeping them into its grasp to send the boys on their way to a new world.
Then everything and everyone was gone.
It was dark on the residential street in the middle of London except for some street lights near the road. There was a light rain falling, which was just enough to discourage most Brits from taking to the street for a walk. So that night, no one saw two boys materialize in front of the Victorian-style house in Kensington.
The older boy, his hand tightly holding on to the younger one, knocked tentatively on the imposing door leading to the front stoop they somehow ended up on.
A young woman in a pair of blue jeans and a grey t-shirt answered the door, looking a bit surprised at her nighttime visitors. "Do you need help?" she asked, peering down at the small boys.
"I think so," the older one said quietly.
The woman glanced at them with a tender look on her face. "What are your names, boys?"
The children looked at each other, panic beginning to wash over them. What were their names? Could they not remember them?
"Or maybe you can tell me where you're from?" she asked gently, trying to put the boys at ease.
The younger one shook his head. He had no idea where he came from or how he got there or even who he was. How could he have forgotten all of those things?
The woman kneeled down so she could be eye level with the two dirt-covered children in odd clothes who had ended up on her doorstep. "Do you have anything that may help us figure out who you are?"
The older boy instinctively pulled open his coat as if he knew something was there without really remembering what it was. Inside the lining of his coat was a pocket with a white envelope stuffed in it.
"Well then, what's this, lad?" she asked with a reassuring smile as she pulled the paper out of his pocket.
"I don't know," he honestly replied.
The woman turned it over in her hands, the color draining from her face as she looked at the address on the front. Her hands began to shake violently as she opened it and pulled out the letter inside. She quickly used her free hand to instinctively cover the shocked expression on her lips as she read the words. Then she looked back up at the boys standing on her front steps with dirt smudges on their faces.
"Well, let's see what we have here," she said with a shaky voice before patting the older boy down as if she was looking for some other clues about who they were. She pulled his coat open herself this time, revealing the letter L stitched in gold thread above the pocket that had held his letter. The woman soon found a matching one on the younger boy - a K.
"You must be Liam," she said, grabbing the older boy's shoulder. "And you, young man, are Killian."
The boys simply nodded their heads in acceptance as the woman stood up and moved out of the door frame.
"Come along, boys," she said, smiling down at them. "Let's get you a nice hot bath. You're safe here."
The older boy took the hand of the younger one and they slowly walked into the well-lit home as the woman closed the door behind them.
"My name is Jane," the woman said, leaning over so she was once again eye level with them. "Have you ever heard of me?"
The boys just shook their heads.
"Well, right then," she said casually, standing once again and gently placing her hands on the boys' backs. "Let's move along. There's someone I want you to meet."
The boys did as they were told and followed Jane into a sitting room with an older woman perched on the edge of a chair by a roaring fire.
"Mum?" Jane asked.
The woman turned, a flash of recognition quickly crossing her face as she looked at the two boys before having it disappear just as fast.
"These brothers just knocked on our door," she said, putting her arm around Killian's shoulder.
"We're brothers?" Killian asked, his head looking up towards Jane.
"You are," she said reassuringly.
Killian could feel the warmth growing in his chest as he gripped his brother's hand harder. He felt so strange and scared but as he turned towards Liam, the boy gave him a warm smile. This is going to be fine, Killian thought. I have my brother.
Jane gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze, then let go and walked towards the woman by the fire.
"The older one had this letter with him," she explained.
Her hand was still shaking as she handed over the envelope, but Killian found it reassuring that she had gained some control over it. The older woman reached for the envelope and pulled out the letter. She grabbed some reading glasses from the table next to her and unfolded the paper in front of her. A smile began to slowly creep over her face.
"Come here, boys," she said after a few moments, motioning with her hand to have them walk closer to her.
She looked at them for several seconds, taking in their clothes and mannerisms. Killian felt uneasy and nervously scratched behind his ear, eliciting a warm smile from the old woman. "Has anyone ever told you boys that you have your father's eyes?" Both of them shook their heads. "No?" she asked in a comforting tone.
"We don't know who our father is," Liam explained sadly.
The woman smiled at him. "Maybe someday, I'll tell you about him," she said, pushing herself up from the chair. "In the meantime, I think we need to clean these children up, Jane. Perhaps give them some warm milk before bed?"
Jane smiled at her and nodded. "I think that's a wonderful idea, Mum," she replied.
"Thank you, ma'am," Liam said quietly.
"Oh, you don't have to be so stuffy," the woman said. "You can call me Wendy."