The Past

"Liam?!"

The name slipped out of Killian's mouth without his consent as he stared at his brother in shock. Before he could say anything else, Liam had taken two large steps forward and enveloped him in a huge hug. After a moment of surprise, Killian returned it, breathing in the comforting scent of the ocean.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded, dumbfounded.

Liam released him and put his hands on his younger brother's shoulders, examining him carefully.

"You've grown up, haven't you?" He said with a grin.

Killian felt something slide back into place. The brother he'd known before ignored his questions until he was ready to answer them too; older siblings inevitably insisted that even a simple conversation happened by their terms.

"And you've grown both up and out," Killian teased.

When he'd last seen his brother, he'd been a gangly and half-starved youth of fourteen. Now he was a stocky and muscular man almost in his mid-twenties with the hint of a beard shadowing his jaw. There were some similarities to the boy he'd known, of course; his hair still fell in unruly curls, his nose was still over-sized, and intelligent eyes still peaked out under bushy eyebrows. Still, it was strange to see his brother as a grown man. Killian guessed that Liam was thinking the same thing from the sharp way his eyes continued to rake over his younger brother.

"I'm afraid I can't really say the same for you," Liam retorted, eyeing his much slighter brother in some amusement.

It was at that moment that Ciarra interrupted, clearing her throat pointedly and poking Killian in the back.

"You remember Ciarra?" He said quickly, nodding towards his companion.

Liam stared at her in amazement. "Good lord, you're alive! I thought you'd died years ago."

"I hate to disappoint, but no, I assure you that I'm quite alive. At least, to my knowledge," she babbled.

"Well, you two certainly have a great deal of explaining to do," Liam said pointedly.

"Please, sit down." Killian gestured towards the bed.

Liam looked around for a moment as if searching for a chair. A flicker of some emotion that Killian couldn't quite read passed over his face when he seemed to realize that the bed was the only piece of furniture in the small room. He moved over and sat down stiffly, then cleared his throat with a pointed look at his brother.

"So… how long have you two been living here?"

Killian sat down a good distance from his brother, and Ciarra scurried over to his side. Liam's eyes widened when he saw how closely she sat to his brother, but he didn't comment.

"Less than a year," Killian replied, looking at his hands nervously.

"Are you certain?" Asked Ciarra in surprise. "I could swear it's been longer-"

"Yes." Killian cut her off. Normally, she probably would have argued the point, but, instead, she shot Liam a nervous look and kept her mouth shut.

A pregnant pause filled the room as Liam waited for more of an explanation.

"Well, I suppose you want to know how I'm alive…"

Ciarra launched into the long anecdote of the past nine years of her life, stumbling over her words nervously and throwing her hands around in extravagant gestures as she tended to do when she was nervous. Much to his shame, Killian was relieved to not have to tell his part of the story yet. It made him feel like a bit of a coward, but telling Liam what had happened since their separation was frightening. The thing he feared most of all was hurting Liam with news of their father or the fact that Killian, even while knowing where Liam was, never attempted to find him.

"And then we journeyed here!" Ciarra finished far too soon, grabbing Killian's hand and squeezing it. Killian forced a small smile that ended up looking far more like a grimace.

"Quite a tale," Liam said in his low rumble of a voice. "I feel quite fortunate to find you both alive if you fought in the war a few years back; I heard that it was quite a bloody and gruesome affair."

"It was a slaughter," corrected Killian, deciding that Liam's description was too kind by far.

"Indeed," Liam remarked, eyes boring into his brother's. "Now, brother, tell me-"

"What are you doing here, Liam?" Killian interrupted, genuinely curious.

There was a pause, in which Liam suddenly became very interested in the buttons on his jacket.

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Killian, but father is dead. He was executed some years ago for some extensive criminal charges-"

"I'm aware. I attended the execution," he replied quickly, feeling some relief sink through him as he realized that Liam probably already had some expectations in regards to the true nature of their father's character.

"I was there as well," Liam stated with audible relief.

"That must have been a nasty shock," Ciarra said sympathetically, reaching across Killian's lap to pat Liam's knee awkwardly in an attempt at comfort.

Liam grimaced. "It was. I had to pretend that I'd no idea of his identity, of course. I assumed that the charges were falsely levelled against him by the king or our grandfather, but he looked almost like a different man, which caused me to have my doubts…"

He trailed off, eyes distant. Killian winced as he revisited his own memories of the gruesome event. His father hadn't been given the opportunity to make a speech, but he had yelled abuse at Lord Alasdair and the king as he was dragged to his death nonetheless. Killian had stayed hidden in the shadows, but he remembered the lifelessness in his father's eyes as he went to die. To Killian, he looked like a man already dead. His shouting was certainly just for show; Killian got the sense that, if anything, his father's death brought Edward only some relief.

"They were true. Mother's death destroyed him, Liam. He was torn apart by his grief, and abandoned me as a result. He likely committed crimes for the same reason," Killian confirmed quietly.

"Well, the more I see of the king, the more I think that the accusations must have been true," agreed Liam. "Our parents were wrong, Killian. The king is a good man with a tremendous sense of honour and obligation towards his people. Perhaps father led mother astray. Regardless, I don't think he was what we thought he was."

Killian nodded, although he privately disagreed. He knew that Liam tended to see things in black and white, and he decided that correcting him would be futile. It would only cause Liam pain, and he would be far too stubborn to admit that there could be any other truth than their father simply being a "criminal".

"Anyways, since you weren't with our father, I assumed that you must have been separated. Ever since I graduated from the naval academy, I've spent every spare second looking for you! I searched the city first, of course, but I couldn't find any trace of you. I searched every port I came to thereafter, assuming that you must have never returned to the city or else left it. I feel stupid now, discovering that you were in the city all along-"

Blinking rapidly, Killian stared at his older brother. Liam had looked for him? He'd actually cared enough to want to find him? The thought was shocking.

"I didn't live in a prominent neighbourhood," Killian finally said. "I lived in the slums with our Uncle Connor and his family."

Liam paled. "You went to live with him? Willingly?"

"I had nowhere else to go," Killian justified himself. "Well, nowhere except to you, and I couldn't take your chance at a future from you."

Liam stared at his younger brother, stunned. "I wouldn't have minded-"

"But I would have."

The two brothers stared at each other for a moment, each stunned at the quiet love the other brother had provided without their knowledge.

"Anyway, there's little to tell from that time, except that I soon discovered Connor and Helena to be inadequate parents to their daughter. I left to prepare a new home for her, and Ciarra ended up coming along. I hope to retrieve her soon, actually."

Liam frowned deeply. "You were with Uncle Connor! How stupid of me! That was the one place I eliminated from my search because I never thought you would be crazy enough to live with that madman-"

"He's a terrible father, but really not as bad as he used to be," Killian said.

The Present

"So you lied."

It wasn't a question.

Killian sighed. "Yes, I lied. I wanted to reduce the amount of hurt Liam suffered on my behalf."

"So you never told him? Ever?"

"No," Killian admitted.

Emma sighed, feeling sadness on behalf of her companion for the burden that he had probably rarely shared. Still, she could understand. Whenever she spoke of her foster homes to her parents, which was rarely, if she could help it, she always spoke of very general evils. The bad memories weren't worth repeating or throwing on her parents, who she'd come to realize carried enough guilt surrounding her abandonment.

The Past

"You're the first mate of the ship?" Killian repeated, impressed.

"Indeed," Liam confirmed proudly.

After sharing more details, all three young people had grown more comfortable with one another and were now lounging far more relaxedly across the bed.

"How soon do you leave, Liam?" Ciarra asked, then blanched. "Oh, lord, I wasn't meaning that I wanted to get rid of you, I was only wondering how much more of you we'd get to see before you were gone."

Liam grinned at her kindly before answering. "Tomorrow, I'm afraid. We're stopping here only briefly." His eyes flickered to his brother's and he cleared his throat. "Um… I actually had something that I wanted to talk to you about."

Killian gestured for him to go ahead.

"What I wish for more than anything would be… well, I was hoping that you might consider coming back with me. We're going back to the city, and I just thought that perhaps now that I'm receiving a wage I could pay for you to attend naval school and become an officer as well. It's short, and you're clever, which means that you should only be there for two years or so." Liam spoke quickly, but perhaps his nervousness was only obvious to Killian; his childhood habits still remained, providing glaring tells that soothed Killian with their normalcy.

Biting his lip, Killian considered. "I appreciate the offer, Liam, really I do, but I'm not certain that I can. I will go back to the city with you; I was hoping to retrieve Lyanna anyway, and this provides as good of an opportunity as any-" Ciarra nodded rapidly behind him "-but I'm not certain about your other offer. While I appreciate that you would assist me, I'm not sure that it's logistically possible. I swore to return for Lyanna, and I can hardly take care of her if I'm at school and then sailing around the realm."

There was a pause, as Liam stared down at his hands, jaw clenched in disappointment. Finally, he looked up with a faint smile. "Well, at least this is a start. Perhaps the journey will give me enough time to convince you."

"I'm sorry, but I doubt it. I can't leave Lyanna nor Ciarra. I don't wish to, and it would be wrong of me."

"Don't factor me into this, Killian," Ciarra cut in with a faint smile. "I appreciate it, but I wouldn't have you destroy your future on my behalf. I would be happy to wait for you while you sat around with books or traveled the world if it was the best thing for you. I know that you'd always come back for me."

Killian smiled at her, feeling his heart warm with appreciation of the young woman who sat beside him.

"I would," he agreed, resisting the urge to kiss her. Instead, he turned again to his brother. "I know how stubborn you are-"

Liam opened his mouth to protest.

"-but please, Liam, just trust me when I say that this is what I need to do."

His brother looked extremely unhappy, but he nodded.

The Present

"But that clearly didn't happen," Emma interrupted.

Killian smirked. "An extremely clever conclusion," he mocked, although not maliciously.

"Did he convince you after all, then?"

Her friend winced. "No, not exactly."

The Past

Killian stopped, causing both his brother and Ciarra to crash into him.

"What is it?" Ciarra questioned, her voice an octave higher than normal. "Are you lost?"

Liam also looked at him questioningly, but it took a moment for Killian to find his voice to reply.

He'd known something was wrong the moment he saw the little house. No shouting echoed from the open windows, no smells of frankly inedible cooking wafted through the air, and no smoke escaped from the chimney. Not even a light shone from within.

"There's something wrong," he said quietly, staring at the obviously abandoned house with dread.

Liam followed his gaze to look at the far too quiet house. "Perhaps they moved."

Killian shook his head, already picking up his pace as he moved towards the house. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat. When he reached the door, he lifted a hand to knock, only to find that it wasn't even latched properly; it swung open and shut with every waft of air from the street.

Nervously, Killian pushed the door open to look inside, immediately recoiling in horror at the scene.

"What's wrong?" Ciarra asked, coming up behind him.

"Don't look," he ordered roughly, directing her away from the door.

She disregarded him entirely, as she tended to do, and gasped as her eyes fell upon the gruesome scene. Liam also winced obviously at the sight. For a moment, all the three of them could do was stare in open-mouthed horror at Killian's second childhood home.

The first thing they saw when looking in was the body hanging from his neck, attached by a rope to the ceiling. It cast weird shadows throughout the dim, dusty house, and the body had obviously been there for some time.

However, it was once Killian's gaze traveled further that he felt his heart break. Two other bodies lay next to the table, one small and one large. Killian walked forward as though in a trance to what remained of his aunt and his cousin, the child who had stolen his heart. He couldn't decide which sight was more disturbing; Lyanna had clearly died from a wound to the head, based on the blood matting her hair. There was also blood on the table, which led Killian to wonder if she had died by hitting her head there, although it was hard to tell because of the rest of the blood around the two bodies. Helena was completely unrecognizable, beaten beyond recognition. As horrible as it was to see Lyanna dead, at least she was recognizable. Helena could have been anyone; what was left of her lay in the fetal position next to her daughter. Flies oversaw the entire scene, buzzing angrily.

"I think I may be sick," Ciarra blurted, running from the house. Killian barely heard her.

Liam, on the other hand, surveyed the scene fairly calmly before coming to put a comforting hand on his younger brother's shoulder. He didn't say anything, which made Killian grateful.

Finally, once he was ready, he broke the silence. "What do you think happened?" His voice was choked and rough as he held back the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"You knew them better than I did. Did someone come kill them, do you think?"

Killian nodded mutely.

"Perhaps I'll go arrange their burials and give you a moment," Liam suggested, thinking as logically as ever.

As soon as his brother was gone, Killian knelt down beside the remains of his young cousin and smoothed her hair with shaking fingers. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't seem to drag his eyes away. Even as his vision blurred with tears that finally overflowed, they remained fixed on the little girl.

The Present

"What actually happened?" Emma asked softly, detecting the lie easily.

Killian stared into the distance for a moment, lips a tight line.

"I can only guess, of course," Killian began. "But, if I had to guess, I would say that Lyanna took a beating that went too far. There were signs of some earlier abuse, you understand. I would guess that my uncle perhaps knocked her into the table, which caused her to hit her head. She would have died due to the impact. Perhaps that's just wishful thinking, though… I hate to imagine her suffering."

His voice cracked slightly and he stopped, taking a moment to compose himself. Emma pretended not to notice.

"As for Helena," Killian continued, "I imagine that she saw that her daughter was dead and provoked Connor through her accusations. I would guess that he beat her to death, then perhaps realized the full extent of irreversible damage he had caused, and ended his own miserable life rather than letting the law do so."

Something seemed a little bit off, but Emma couldn't quite put her finger on it. Silence fell as Killian was lost in his grief and Emma tried to figure out what was causing her lie detector to go off.

"This isn't just speculation, is it?" She said in a moment of sudden realization.

Killian grimaced.

"Did you see it happen?" She pressed, her horror growing by the second.

"In a matter of speaking," he admitted, his voice strained.

"Meaning?"

"Not as it happened," he clarified.

Emma looked at him in confusion.

"Perhaps this is one thing we had best leave be," Killian suggested tersely.

"Why? What happened?" Emma asked with a growing feeling of dread.

"It's just too bloody painful, alright, Emma?" Killian snapped, losing his usual composure.

An abrupt silence fell on the pair. Emma felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, which only made her angry. He had said that he would tell her anything, hadn't he?

After a minute, Killian sighed and turned back to Emma tiredly. "I apologize, Swan. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"No… it's alright," Emma replied slowly, forcing herself to push her pride aside. "I guess I probably shouldn't have kept pushing you."

"No, it's natural for you to want to know, and I've been open with you about everything else so you had no reason to assume that I would stop. This is my fault entirely."

Emma shook her head, feeling the guilt radiating off of her companion.

"Do you know where I got the name Swan?"

Killian started, completely thrown off-guard. "What?"

"My first foster family had that last name. They were this really nice older couple, both professors at the city's university. They'd tried for years and years to have a baby, but they couldn't, so they ended up taking me in. They were really great parents for a while, even if they were usually pretty busy with work. We had some good times together; I remember, during one winter, we had a snow day and we made snowmen of all of us! It felt like a real family, you know? I remember when I learned the alphabet, I kept drawing my S's backwards, and Mrs. Swan got me to remember how to draw it by drawing a swan in the shape of an S. Then, one day, Mrs. Swan miraculously ended up pregnant. I was so excited. I thought I was going to have a little sibling, but then Mr. and Mrs. Swan started to become cold with me. I'd be playing too loudly and they'd yell at me for giving them a headache, when it had never been a problem before. I'd cry and they'd get angry at me for misbehaving. After a while, it seemed like a couldn't do anything right. I thought it was my fault, but I thought I could fix things. That was, until one day, we went out for dinner and the waitress told Mr. and Mrs. Swan that I was 'an adorable daughter'. Mrs. Swan corrected them right away and said that I wasn't really hers. They gave me away a few weeks later. I cried and screamed and begged them not to let them take me away, but they just ignored me. It broke my heart, and it's still my worst memory. Mr. Swan just looked so disgusted, and Mrs. Swan only glanced at me before going inside. She didn't even say goodbye. I'd never felt so alone or unloved in my life." A small tear escaped and rolled down Emma's cheek, thankfully on the side Killian wasn't sitting on.

Killian looked stricken. "That's horrible."

Emma nodded. "Yeah. I kept the name, though, even though it hurt so much, because I still had this ridiculous fantasy that they would come back and tell me that giving me up had been a mistake. It was my way of holding onto my past; before Mrs. Swan got pregnant was the only time I ever really felt loved, and I wanted to find that again so badly. I wanted to be enough."

She was crying in earnest now, swiping at her tears irritably. "Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, love," Killian assured her, gently wiping away her tears with his hand.

Emma nodded and took a moment to collect herself.

"I imagine it's not much comfort, Swan, but I have to say that I can't imagine how anyone would be foolish enough to want to give you up," the pirate told her earnestly.

"You'd be surprised," Emma replied, although she smiled faintly in spite of herself.

Killian sighed and looked her in the eyes seriously. "Torture."

"What?"

He paused, closing his eyes a moment as if to prepare. "There are many forms of torture, Swan. Being a pirate, I am intimately acquainted with many of them. I have used many of them, and I have also had them used on me."

Emma's gut clenched. "You've been tortured?"

"Multiple times," Killian said with a shrug. "However, the worst torture I ever endured was a form of mental torture at the hands of a particularly vicious and intelligent woman, who gathered that the worst punishment for some is not physical, but emotional. She had come across a potion that caused its victims to see the worst images from their pasts. For me, one of those was the deaths of my aunt, uncle, and Lyanna. I had to watch multiple times as my uncle beat Lyanna and threw her into the corner of the table. I watched her die over and over, and she always looked so small and helpless, no matter how many times I watched. Then I had to watch Helena start screaming when she realized her daughter was dead, and my uncle beating her just to shut her mouth and stop the noise. Then, I had to watch his reaction in the morning, when he called for Helena to make him breakfast, only to realize that he'd killed her and his daughter. I had to watch him totally break down, when I'd never seen an instant of vulnerability or regret from him before. I had to watch him break and, finally, kill himself."

Emma shook her head in disbelief, watching as a tear ran down Killian's cheek. He seemed totally unaware of it, totally lost in the world of torture that was his past.

"I'm so sorry," Emma whispered.

Killian forced a smile. "No need, love. It was a long time ago."

Although she didn't call him out on it, Emma knew that was a lie. If she'd learned anything from this story and her own experience, it was the fact that time did not, in fact, heal all wounds.

"Thank you for telling me," Emma said.

"It was a small price to pay in exchange for what I got to learn about you," he told her with a smile. "Thank you."

The Past

That night, Killian went to the graveyard alone. Neither Ciarra nor Liam tried to come with him, both knowing him well enough to sense that he needed to be alone.

He took several objects with him, including his violin, some paper and a pencil, and Lyanna's doll.

Finding the doll, Emily, had been an accident. While waiting for Liam to return, he'd stroked Lyanna's hair and held her hand, whispering soft words of comfort to her. It was only when he shifted that he realized that he was kneeling on the doll he'd given his cousin. She was worn, but the threads of her face still gathered into a small smile. Finding the doll had been the last straw. He picked her up and suddenly the tears spilled over, falling onto the bloodstained floor. In the end, when Liam came back, it was to Killian cradling the small cloth doll to his chest and sobbing silently.

Now the doll was sitting cheerfully in his violin case.

First, Killian stopped at Christine's grave, caressing the top of the smooth, grey stone. Then, he walked to the three new graves, murmuring a soft prayer over Helena's before sitting on the fresh one that now housed Lyanna.

"I brought you your doll," he whispered, pulling Emily out of his violin case and placing her gently against the headstone.

Of course, there was no answer but the quietly chirping crickets.

"I'm so sorry," Killian added, caressing the newly carved letters on the headstone. "I should have taken you with me, or come back sooner, or done something. This is my fault."

Again, no one answered, which he took as the universe's confirmation of his declaration.

"Please come back," he sobbed, leaning against the stone. "I thought you needed me, but it was really I who needed you. I love you, Lyanna. I would have given my life for you. I still would, if it meant that you could come back. At least now you have Emily..." He could barely breathe now because of his sobs. "At least now Emily can hold your hand, so you won't be alone. Oh, God, I never should have left you, but I kept my promise... I did come back. It was just too late..."

He spent the night there, writing a song and talking to his cousin, catching her up on what had happened since he'd been away. When the sun rose, he finally accepted the fact that it was time to go, before Ciarra and Liam came looking for him.

"Sleep well, princess," he murmured, running his hand along the freshly turned earth.

He looked back only once. Emily smiled.

Thanks for reading! Please favourite or review if you feel so inclined! :)

I just wanted to let you all know that I'm going away for ten days starting this Monday and probably won't have internet. I'll try to have another chapter up by then, but, if I don't, that's why you're waiting a little bit longer! (Although I guess you're all veterans at waiting by now... sorry about that!)