A/N Okay so since this is Hook's backstory and we all know how he turned out, I'm thinking that he's gotta have at least a somewhat fucked up childhood. FAIR WARNING, there will be angst and a liberal dose of bad parenting, just letting people know in case that squicks you out ;-;

The boat rocked beneath his feet as the cold wind whipped around his face, each gust felt like a salty sting against the bare skin uncovered by his scarf. Killian reached up and grasped his brother's hand, trying to hold on but his small fingers could only encompass a few of Liam's. It was only the briefest of seconds before he felt Liam's fingers open and envelope the entirety of his hand in steady warmth.

Something was wrong. He… he wasn't sure what exactly, but the grim faces of the uniformed crew around them were setting him on edge, a nervous sort of anxiety running beneath his skin, making Killian want to crawl out of it, or shout, or do something other than stand there.

"Killian..."

He looked up at Liam's drawn face with confusion. Killian had never really heard his brother's voice sound so old. Almost like father when he was shouting out orders to the crew. It made him uncomfortable. He didn't like seeing Liam when he wasn't smiling. Killian looked away, shifting his eyes to the iron colored waves.

"Killian, look at me."

He kept his eyes firmly on the water. Maybe if he didn't look, then all of this would go away. Maybe if he didn't, all of clouds would part, the sun would shine, and they would continue on their adventure.

He felt Liam's hand grip his tighter and something moved in the corner of his eye. Killian could feel his brother kneeling down in front of him, his vision filling with sad, blue eyes that didn't seem at all familiar anymore. Something cold started to writhe in his stomach and he didn't understand why all of the sudden the world felt strange to him, like all the color and warmth was draining away the longer he shifted his gaze away from Liam's face.

"I know this is…. hard, little brother… but we need to be strong, okay? Father needs us to be strong."

That didn't make any sense. Killian's father was the strongest man he knew. He'd seen his papa steer the whole ship by himself, there was no one on this ship, in the whole world as strong as his papa.

"Brother, please…"

"Why?" He snapped, feeling the confusion in him break.

"Because…" Liam looked away and for a second, he looked scared and lost and that frightened Killian more than anything. His brother took a deep breath and his eyes hardened. "She's gone, Killian."

"No. No, she hasn't gone anywhere," Killian tried to pull his hand out of Liam's, "Mama's just sleeping. She's sick and Papa told me not to bother her while she's resting."

Liam gripped his brother's hand tighter, taking a deep breath but Killian cut in before he could speak.

"I'm not stupid, Liam. I know you can't go anywhere on a ship," Killian glared at his brother. He might be young, but he wasn't so foolish as to be tricked that easily.

"I never said you were stupid, little brother," he felt Liam's arms pull him in a hug, his chin coming to rest on his little brother's shoulder, "her – her body is still here, but she's gone. Do you… do you understand?"

Killian titled his face forward so it rested against the warmth of his brother's body and away from the biting wind.

"That doesn't make any sense, I talked with her last night, she couldn't have gone anywhere…"

He was… he was starting to feel sick, like he did when the storms made the ship move too much or when his mama let him eat too many candies. It was an unpleasant twisting of his stomach. It felt wrong, like he was having a bad dream except no one was waking him up.

"I…" He felt Liam's arms cling to him tighter as he muttered almost inaudibly and, for a moment, Killian felt like his brother might collapse, "please don't make me say it."

"Say what?" Killian's finger nails dug into his small palms, "I – I don't understand."

His skin felt itchy and everything was wrong, wrong, wrong. Maybe he could peel it away if he dug his fingers in hard enough.

Liam leaned back until he his face was level with his little brother's. Killian saw tracks of small, wet tears running down his brother's face and his heart stopped beating. This wasn't… this wasn't right.

"Mother is…" Liam gulped in a shaky breath, "she's dead, Killian."

For all the wind that was whipping around their heads, for all the waves that crashed against the side of the ship, for all the whispers that spilled from the mouths around them, Killian Jones heard naught but ringing, horrible silence.

Liam had never lied to him before. Liam had promised that brothers never lied to each other, so why was he doing it now?

"No," Killian shook his head and took a step back, "No, that's not funny."

Liam looked away, his eyes cast down as the tears spilled from them and the sight made a spark of anger well within Killian's heart.

"We're on our way to get her the medicine!" Killian's fists clenched, "Papa promised that she was going to get better once we got there."

"We… we ran out of time, brother," Liam wiped away the tears on his face and tried to look strong, but Killian knew his brother better than that.

"No!" He shouted, trying to back away further but was caught in Liam's arms once again. "No, no, I – I hugged her last night! I talked to her! You're – you're lying."

"Enough, Killian."

His body went still at the voice that sounded from behind him. His father's voice. Calm and cold and horribly unfamiliar. A hand landed on his shoulder and Killian slowly turned his face up to look at this foreign man that now stood next to him.

This man shared the same curly brown hair as his father, the same beard and the same crinkly lines that were etched on his face from many years in the King's Navy, but there was something different about him. Something wrong.

But the moment he turned his dark eyes to look down at his son, what Killian saw the truth.

The world seemed to grow dark, darker than the blackest night. The wind swirled around him and for a moment the air could have been traded with the sea for how difficult it was to take into his lungs.

Killian felt his limbs start to go numb and he lurched forward into Liam's chest. A pair of arms came around him, but Killian felt none of their familiar warmth, only the sensation of drowning.

'No…' he clenched his eyes shut, 'no, she can't… Mama can't…'

A sob wracked his chest. Or maybe it was Liam's. He couldn't tell, not anymore… he didn't know what to do.

Who would hold tightly in their arms as the night fell? Who would look at him with such warmth and affection that, no matter where they were, Killian would always feel like he was home?

Who could… who could ever love him so much?

Killian felt like something in his chest was shattering, something burning hot and full of sadness was spilling from him and somehow he knew that no hands could catch the pieces as they fell.

He felt angry and sad and broken, but more than any of that, Killian felt lost. Like this great ship but without a compass to guide it. He felt like he was made of the same wood that made up the deck, stuck and immobile, stiff and worn.

He just wanted to sleep. To dream of warm, safe, familiar arms holding him. Protecting him against the bad dream that was happening right now. Maybe if he just went to sleep, then when he woke up she would smile at him the way she always did, her lips pulling up to reveal almost too many teeth, as if there was always some great joke being told but she was the only one that could hear it.

Killian felt his feet leave the deck as someone pulled his limp body into their arms. He just wanted to close his eyes and make everything go away.

Something white and long came out of the door to the hold, and Killian felt his body twist to gaze at it almost unconsciously. It looked like a sheet with a still form underneath it resting atop the wooden plank that was being lifted by several of his father's sailors.

"What…" Killian whispered but somehow he knew.

He started to kick at Liam's body, scratching his fingers across every spot of uncovered skin available to him.

"Brother, no—" Liam grunted as Killian placed a small foot into his stomach.

"Let me go!" Killian shouted, "They're going to put her in the sea!"

He saw Liam cast a pleading look to their father, but Killian knew his papa hadn't looked anywhere but at that horrible white sheet since it had appeared on deck.

"Killian, Killian," Liam put a hand on the back of his little brother's head, "look at me."

"I –" Killian struggled again, trying to break free, "I can't! They're going to—"

"Please, brother."

Something in Liam's tone cut deep into his chest, through his skin and his bones as if they were nothing more than air. Killian turned his head slowly until he couldn't see his mother's thinly veiled body, until all he saw were Liam's broken eyes.

"I know this is hard, but I'm still here. We're still here together, okay? Nothing is going to change that."

"That's what Mama said to me. She said we were going to be together and I promised to protect her."

"I know," Liam wiped away the tears that had started pouring down Killian's face, "I know. I did too."

Killian felt his body grow suddenly tired. He felt his face hit his brother's shoulder again and the tears that had started as a small stream seemed to grow into a river.

"I'll protect you, little brother, no matter what. I promise."

Killian wrapped his arms around his brother's neck and tried to fight the feeling that his brother's words were nothing more than a well-meant lie. But, as he clung to the body holding him, he realized that maybe those lies were all people could ever truly give one another to protect against the sadness.

"I'll protect you too, okay?"

He felt cold shame well up inside him. If he couldn't protect his mama, then… then how could he protect Liam? He didn't know what he could do, if he was strong enough to protect anyone, but Liam was here. Liam had always been here and nothing in that moment seemed more important, made him more desperate than the thought of keeping his brother beside him.

"I know you will," Liam's arms pressed against him, and for a second, Killian thought he might've felt that warmth return to him.

Killian brought a hand up to grip at the small, black scarf his mother had made for him just before they'd left on their journey to get her medicine and twisted his fingers into the fabric, relishing in the softness of it, in the feeling of her.

The sound of wood scraping against itself pulled his gaze to the edge of the ship. The plank was brought to rest on the railing, cold, gray waters swirling beyond, all the way to the horizon.

Silence fell and time seemed to slow as the plank was tilted up and the white form started to slip into the hungry waves below. As soon as Killian heard the splash, he took in a shaking breath, his fingers clutching at the scarf. He waited to feel more tears spill from his eyes.

But as he stared at the last place where he would ever see his mother, Killian Jones found it hard to feel anything more than like a shard of shattered glass as that horrible feeling of aching sadness spilled from his breaking heart to the rest of his limbs, clouding his mind in a terrible sort of grief.

She couldn't help but look over her shoulder to watch the door close behind her.

She couldn't help but glance over to the window to see her would-be mother shut the curtains with haste.

She couldn't help but feel the tears fall down from her eyes as her home shut her out, pushed her back into the cold, and she had no idea why.

She had been good, right?

She had been good.

But not good enough.

She was a child. A child that had needed a home. But not their child. Not their blood.

The bitter, winter wind pulled her hair out from her scarf, whipping it around her like the strands were trying to pull away from her body. And maybe they were.

She shivered, waiting for the car door to open as the man from the orphanage glared at her like she'd done something wrong. And maybe she had.

Maybe… Maybe she just couldn't be loved. Maybe that's why all her parents had given her away.

The tears froze against her face but it was hard to notice when what felt so much colder than the harsh winter wind was the ice spreading from the broken shards in her chest.

"Killian."

He rolled over in his hammock trying to escape the noise.

"Killian, get up."

That's when he noticed the stench.

Killian rolled back over, rubbing his eyes, "Papa?"

"Yes, that's right, come –" his father let out a putrid belch, "come along son, I've - I've got a job for you."

"But… it's the middle of the night, Papa…" Killian sat up, glancing at the hammock above him where his brother was still sleeping.

His father seemed to notice where his eyes were going and stumbled forward to put a shaking hand on Killian's mouth, loosening his index finger from the bottle in his other hands and raising it to his lips.

"No need to – to wake your brother. Just you an' me, lad."

Killian felt something nervous twist in his stomach. His father had been… different since they'd… since they'd given his mother back to the sea. He was always locked away in his cabin, drinking out of those bottles now. But… he was still his father and Killian loved his father. His papa wouldn't wake him unless it was really important.

"Okay," Killian climbed out of his hammock as quietly as he could and followed his father's stumbling form through the small door that led to the main part of the captain's quarters.

His father fell forward as the ship rocked and landed in a heap on the ground, the bottle rolling away from his fingers.

"Papa!" Killian ran over to his father and tried to help him up, but as soon as he grabbed at one of the shaking shoulders in front of him, his father lashed out, pushing him away.

"No! no –" a slurred voice escaped the heap of limbs and stained uniform cloth, "no I can – I can handle myself."

"I just wanted to help –" Killian stopped his hand from reaching out before it touched his father again.

"I don't need help!"

His father sat up quickly, turning his face to glare, eyes wild and blood-shot. Killian stared back for a moment until his father reached a hand up to his face, holding it in his palm for a moment before grabbing onto one of the chairs to stand up.

"See?" His father dragged the wood back and practically fell into it with another stumbling step, "Your father doesn't need help."

Killian nodded, his fingers going up to the scarf on his neck as they did so often now, "Okay."

He stood in silence as his father reached out for one of the bottles littering the top of the table, gabbing one while knocking several others to the floor. Killian moved to pick them up from the ground when he heard his father uncork the other and take a long, wet swig.

"Stop that, Killian."

He looked up from the ground, the bottle he'd picked up held tight in his small hand.

"Put – put it down, I don't need my son picking up after me like my –" The words seemed to die on his father's tongue, the now familiar dark sadness coming back to rest on his proud brow.

Killian put the bottle back on the ground but stayed where he was.

"Well don't – don't just stand there, lad," his father made an uncoordinated flourish towards one of the chairs next to him, "sit."

Killian walked over to the closest chair to his father and pulled himself up onto the seat, his legs dangling over the side. Sleep was still clinging to his eyes, that tired sort of itch making him want to return to his hammock and put his head firmly into his pillow, but he... he knew his papa needed him.

His father took another long swig and fixed him with a long, slightly unfocused stare. Killian looked back until he felt his eyes begin to water and he blinked.

"No," his father slammed the bottle on the table, forcing Killian's gaze back, "look at me."

"O-okay…" Killian gulped slightly with a small nod. He couldn't help the nagging confusion in his mind, but his father was very smart, so he probably just didn't understand yet.

His father continued to stare, taking another drink. He took in a shaking breath that sounded almost like a sob, his head falling on his arm that rested against the table.

"You…" his father began, the words almost inaudible through his arm, "you look just like her."

Killian just sat in silence.

His father let out a manic sort of laugh as he turned his face against his arm so he could look at Killian, his skin wet and blotchy.

"Your – your eyes," his father smiled, but Killian couldn't remember a time when he'd seen his papa look less happy, "you have the same eyes. Same face. Same – Same smile…"

"Papa…?" Killian worried the edge of his scarf with his fingers.

"Gods, I loved her," his father's body started to shake and his face twisted like a knife had been buried deep in his chest it made Killian's heart ache, "I loved her so much…"

Killian looked away because it hurt too much to watch, but he couldn't drown out the pained breaths his father took in between each sob.

"Could… could you do your father a – a favor?"

Killian nodded slowly, "Of course, Papa."

"Just… just look at me."

"Papa…?"

"Just look at me and smile."

Killian was still for a moment before he forced his mouth upwards into a smile.

His father let out a pained sort of noise and began to sob again, periodically taking drinks from the bottle.

Killian kept smiling at his father even though his face started to hurt. He kept smiling long after his father's breathing had evened out and his eyelids had drooped. He kept smiling because it was the only thing he'd been able to do to help since his mama had gone to the sea.

Killian felt the mud under his shoes squelch unpleasantly with each step he took, the light rain running down his hair. He wished he were back on his father's ship with the hard wood rocking beneath him.

"Papa…"

"Aye?" His father stumbled in front of him as they walked down another alley towards wherever they were going in the town square today.

"Why did we have to leave the ship? It was much better than this…" Killian eyed the mud that was slowly building on his shoes distastefully.

"Because your – your father said so, lad."

"But…" Killian bit his lip hesitantly, "I thought the king didn't let people leave the navy?"

"The king," Killian saw the his father raise a hand in dismissal, "doesn't have a say in the matter."

"Then why did we have to leave at night? Without saying goodbye to everyone?"

His father came to a sudden halt, twisting around to glare at his son, "What did I – I say about that?"

Killian looked away nervously, "Don't ask questions."

"That's right," his father spun on his heel, slipping in the mud before catching himself ungracefully against one of the walls of the alley.

Letting out a small sigh, Killian followed his father once more. It had been more than a month since they snuck out of the ship and since then this was the third town they'd been to, always travelling at night. Killian felt like he was missing something, but every time he asked, both his father and Liam always looked away and changed the subject.

He… he didn't really like moving around so much. This town was muddy and dirty and the air always smelt bad, even if it still lay near the ocean. It was nothing like the clean, salty wind of the sea or the small village they'd lived in before his mama had gotten sick. But he knew his father wouldn't make them do it if it weren't important.

There were too many people here. Well, too many people that he didn't know. If he'd had the chance to make some friends, Killian might not have noticed all the grime and the stale air, but they hadn't stayed in any one place long enough for him to really meet any other children.

Killian had his brother and his father. That was enough. They were family and family meant that they loved each other. He didn't need more than that, but sometimes when Killian slipped out to sit on roof of the inn that sat near the docks so he could look at the ships coming in at night, he couldn't help but feel a little lonely.

"We're almost there, Killian, keep –" his father stumbled, "keep up."

He quickened his pace, shoes sliding through the mud, and stayed on his father's heels until he realized they had stopped in front of one of the shops where they bought food whenever they could.

His father stooped down until his face was level with Killian's and pulled him close by his collar.

"Remember the game we play?"

Killian nodded feeling a sense of excitement start to thrum through his veins. He didn't get to see his father that much anymore, but as he looked into those expectant dark blue eyes, Killian felt as if they'd never been apart. He felt needed.

"Well, we're going to play it here, alright lad?" His father tucked his silver flask into his coat. "I'll go talk to the nice man inside and you," his hand waved in an uncoordinated gesture, "make sure he doesn't see you."

"I know how to play," Killian rolled his eyes. He'd done this plenty of times before.

"There's a good lad," his father brought a hand up to ruffle his hair, "just don't get caught or else we can't play here anymore."

Killian felt his mouth split into a grin, a happy and warm sort of feeling spread through him while his father's hand pushed the black mess on his head to the side.

"Yes, Papa."

His father smiled back and Killian barely even noticed that it didn't reach his eyes, for all the giddy excitement welling inside him. Turning around, his father marched through the door. Killian knew he would have to wait a minute before he followed. Those were the rules of the game and he hated cheating. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he peeked around the edge of the doorframe and waiting until he counted to sixty.

Killian's fingers tapped against the wet wood with agitated excitement for a few more seconds after he had reached a minute. It couldn't hurt to give them a head start, he was very good at this game after all. It was only fair to those who didn't have as much practice as he did.

His heart thrummed as Killian crouched down and made his way into the store, making sure that the man by the counter was fully engrossed with his father first. He moved silently across the old, wooden beams. Killian knew he needed to move quickly, but that's what made the game so much fun.

Spotting his first target, Killian reached up into the nearest pile of potatoes, grabbing a few and stuffing them into his threadbare jacket. The dried meat was on the next table and some made its way swiftly into his hands as well.

Killian dodged around one of the tables and made his way towards his favorite section. A whole pile of oranges lay on one of the far tables and he could practically taste the bright flavor on his mouth already. Glancing back at his father, Killian could see he was still distracting the man behind the counter.

He crouched again and made his way slowly over to where his prizes lay, knowing that if he got these… well, then maybe his father would really smile today. Killian reached up and felt the cool, smooth skin of one of the oranges against his fingers. He had been about to tighten his grasp when he felt something hard close around his shoulder and yank him back.

"Oi, Stewards, this little brat was tryin' to steal from you!"

Killian felt his stomach drop as he realized the hand that was now firmly gripping him was attached to a very large, very scary man. His eyes went wide in shock, arms going limp and sending the contents hidden in his jacket to tumble to the ground. Each time one hit the floor, the crashes sounded like the booming of a cannon in his ear.

Killian felt his eyes move slowly from the ground to where his father was turning around. He had… he had lost…

The man behind the counter let out a snarl, "Hold the little vermin there, would ya? I've got a feelin' this is the rat that's been takin' from me for the last month."

Killian struggled against the iron grip on his coat, cold fear welling up inside him.

The man's eyes narrowed as they fixed on his father, "You don't happen to know this brat, would ya?"

"N-no…"

"Many pardons, sir," the man's lips curled up to reveal yellowed teeth, "I'll be with you in a moment, once I've taken out this bit o' rubbish."

Killian saw his father step aside with a small nod. Confusion mingled with the panic bubbling in his chest. He had never lost before, was this part of the game? Something started to feel horribly wrong as his father's eyes moved towards everything but him.

The man with the broken smile hobbled over to Killian and grabbed him by the front of his jacket, pulling him up so violently that his feet left the ground. He tried to pull away, to get away from the stench emanating from the man's mouth.

"Thought you'd steal from ol' Stewards, did ya, little rat?"

Killian tried to loosen the grip on coat as it the rough cloth cut into his throat. "N- No…"

"So you're a liar as well as a thief," Killian winced, his breaths coming in short gasps now, "too bad you ain't too good at neither."

"P-please, s-sir…" He tried to wiggle free, but was meet with only a shake of the man's fist that jarred his whole body.

"Oh, so the rat's got some manners now, does it?" The man's voice went into a mock simpering tone, "P-Please, s-s-sir!"

Killian heard a gruff laugh from behind him but could barely see anything anymore, his vision starting to speckle with gray dots. He took one more gasping breath before using the last of his strength to lash out with his foot, feeling it connect with the man's fleshy body.

He heard a yelp of pain and was flung to the floor, sweet air filling his lungs once again. Gasping and clutching his neck, Killian tried to keep the tears from falling.

"You little brat," Killian felt the hand return to his coat, pulling him up again, "I'll skin you for that."

The man raised his hand and brought it down against Killian's face. The blow struck him hard, his head snapping to the side. For a moment, Killian didn't feel anything but shock. Then the pain slammed into him like a wave. He let out a sob and the tears he'd tried to hold back came out like a storm.

He saw the hand rise again and flinched away, wishing with all his heart he could've just disappeared into the ground.

"W-wait! Stop!"

The hand halted as the man looked back towards his father. Fury etched into every line, his face red and the veins of his neck pulsing.

"What?" Those yellow, shattered teeth split again to let out another snarl.

"Please, sir…"

Killian's eyes met his father's from across the shop.

"Papa… Help me…"

The man's fist opened and Killian fell to the ground in a heap.

"Papa? Papa? This little vermin is your son?"

"I…" He heard his father's voice falter.

"You tryin' to play some sort of con? You think you can trick ol' Stewards?"

"No, I…"

Killian looked up to see his father shaking, backing away towards the door.

"You know what they do to thieves in this town? By order o' the King, they go to the gallows," the man shouted, raising a plump hand towards his father's face.

"Killian, run!" His father yelled, spinning on his heel and sprinting towards the door.

He shot up in an instant, small feet scrambling against the wood. Killian's heart pounded as he dodged around tables and the man's feet. There was a moment when he thought he might've felt a hand brush along the back of his coat, but Killian ducked out of the way just in time and sprinted through the door after his father.

"I will find you scum!" He heard the shopkeeper shout from behind him, "I will see you both hang!"

Killian saw the back of his father's coat whip into and alley. He dodged around the people beginning to mill around the front of the shop, trying to figure what all the noise was about.

"Killian, over here!"

He spotted his father waving from one of the many abandoned little houses mashed together in the alley and practically threw himself through the door, hearing it slam behind him. Killian felt his knees go weak as slumped down to sit on the floor, his breath coming in heavy pants.

"Son…?"

Killian wiped away the tears that were still streaming down his face with the sleeves of his jacket. He didn't want his father to see him crying.

"Killian, are you – are you alright?"

He shifted on the floor so he could see his father where he was leaning against the door and tried to smile, but as his mouth moved up, Killian felt the skin on his face pulse with a horrible sort of ache. He reached up with shaking hands to feel the skin, but as soon as his fingers touched it, Killian winced at the sting.

He saw his father's face blanche as he took a few wobbling steps forward, before collapsing onto his knees. He raised a shaking hand to hover near Killian's face, but pulled back like the contact might've burned him.

"Oh, Killian…" His father, reached into his coat and pulled out his flash, taking a long draw from it, "You know I… You know I never meant you to get hurt, don't you?"

"I know, Papa," Killian tried to smile again, but quickly stopped his efforts when the sharp sting didn't abate.

His father took one last long look at him before a choked sob escaped him and he doubled over as if in pain.

"Papa…?" Killian reached out a shaking hand and placed it on his father's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

His father looked up at him, tears pouring down from his red, bleary eyes. His teeth were gritted, muffling his words. "Your mother would hate me now."

Killian felt his heart clench. His father never spoke of Mama anymore. Not since they'd come to shore, not since he'd stopped asking Killian to smile for him some nights.

"Mama wouldn't hate you," Killian frowned at the thought. Families didn't hate each other. He'd only ever seen his mother with bright warm smiles on her face, anything else… it wouldn't be right.

"Oh, lad…" His father's spine curved again, hiding his face from view, "I – I wish you were right," he took in a shaking breath, "but I deserve it. Oh, I deserve it."

Killian tried to stop the shaking in his hands as he looked through one of the cracked planks in the door to his and Liam's room, a small shaft of light illuminating one eye.

"You let him get hit! You've been letting him steal for you!"

"I—" he saw his father back away slightly, "we need to eat, son! Where do you think all that food has been coming from?"

"I assumed you had a job, you know, like the one I go to every morning! Not—" Liam's shoulders started to shake violently, "not letting a child become a criminal for you!"

Killian felt his hands fist and the nails start to dig into his palms.

"I've tried jobs! I don't—"

"No, no," Liam cut their father off with the wave of his hand, "you've tried drinking at jobs, that's why you can't keep one! Have you even –" Liam's words halted, as if the rage was halting all of his thoughts, "have you even tried to stop?"

"Of course, I've tried, Liam," his father's face started to go red, "I haven't had a drink all day."

"You're a liar," Liam let out a bitter laugh, "I can smell it on you. You're a drunk. You're a drunk that lets his own son take a beating that was meant for him."

"No, I—"

"You don't get to talk, coward!" Liam shouted over his father. "You lost that right the moment you started making Killian steal from people! You lost that right the moment he got hurt because of you!"

"I am your father, you cannot talk to me like this!"

"Oh, can't I? Are you going to stop me?" Killian saw Liam crowd into his father's space, pushing him back towards the wall. Even though Liam was scrawny and at least a foot shorter, Killian could see his father back away slightly.

"Liam, I…" His father took another step away before that sad look came over his face, "We can go. We can leave this place tomorrow morning. We can leave and never come back, everything will be fine—"

"Everything will not be fine," Liam's hands balled into fists. "You really don't get it, do you? The problem isn't with the towns or the jobs or the people!"

"The problem is you, father," Liam said the word like it let a bad taste on his tongue. "Ever since mother died, you've done nothing but drink and – and mess everything up!"

"I can find us a ship! I promise, son, I can!"

"And what? We'll go to the next town? You'll fix everything? You think I'm stupid, don't you?" Liam hissed, his words laced with anger, "You think I don't know why we really keep moving?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." His father glanced away nervously.

Liam let out an incredulous laugh, "Right. Of course you don't. I won't tell Killian because for some reason he still looks up to you, but know this, father, you get a damn job and you stop drinking or I will take Killian away from all of this."

"You can't take my son from me," his father's eyes flashed with anger.

"Trust me, if you keep this up, I won't have to," Liam snarled. "He'll want nothing more than to leave you behind."

There was a moment of silence and Killian felt the urge to slam the door open and make them stop fighting. He saw Liam's hands uncurl slowly and his brother let out a shaky sigh.

"We're still a family," Liam looked away and suddenly he looked younger than Killian had seen since their mother had died. "We can be happy, but you – you need to try."

His father looked away for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I – I will. I promise, son."

Killian saw his brother go stiff as their father hugged him awkwardly. His arms were as still as planks for a few seconds, before he pulled away with a sigh and turned around, heading towards the room they shared.

Killian scrambled away from the door and over to the mat that lay next to his brother's. He pulled the rough spun blanket over his shoulders and tried to even out his breathing before Liam realized he hadn't gone to sleep like he was supposed to.

He listened to Liam's soft footfalls until they stopped next to the sleeping mats. Killian felt his brother step over him and clamber down until he knew Liam was lying beside him.

Killian felt his brother's hand come up to brush against the part of his face that was angry and swollen from earlier. He tried to pretend to be asleep, but couldn't help but wince at the contact.

"Killian?"

"Yeah?" He whispered back, keeping his eyes closed.

"I'll protect you, you know that right? I – I know I didn't do such a good job today, but I promise I'll never let anything like that happen again."

Killian smiled again even though it hurt because he knew his brother never lied, "I know."

Killian rolled over onto his side, trying to shove some of the straw beneath him into a more comfortable position. He wouldn't lie and say he didn't miss the gentle rocking of the hammock he had back on his father's ship. And the distinct lack of sharp points digging into his side. Killian sighed as he pulled the thin blanket up to his shoulders, shivering slightly.

He wished they had enough money to fix the gaps in the wood that were shoved together to make the side of their wall. Killian could feel the wind pushing through the holes and under his blanket. He shivered again, pushing his hands to his mouth and breathing on them. Killian was about to turn over to perhaps try to scoot a little closer to Liam when he saw a shadow shift behind the door.

Killian stilled for a moment, a sudden shock of fear running down his spine. Were they being robbed? His father didn't normally stay up so late. He was about to shake Liam awake when he saw the door open and a familiar figure loom through. It was his father, though for a moment he looked entirely unfamiliar. His eyes were somehow both empty and fearful, agitation seemed to hang around him like a cloud.

"Papa…?" Killian whispered but quickly quieted when he saw his father's expression, a shaking finger rising to his lips to indicate quiet.

Liam shifted slightly at the noise and Killian saw his father's eyes flicked to over momentarily, narrowing until he made sure that his eldest son was still asleep.

His father edged into the room, stumbling slightly as he made his way towards where Killian was now sitting up slightly. Killian couldn't help the feeling of unease that was spreading through him. As soon as his father got within a few feet of him, Killian could smell the stench lingering on his father like a rank cloud. He usually had the bitter smell on him, but in the darkness of the room, Killian felt like it was invading his nose and stinging his eyes.

Part of him longed to recoil as his father approached, but something in the vacant face that loomed before him kept Killian still despite the sour stirring of discomfort in his stomach.

His father stumbled forward, his feet catching on the dirt of their floor as he walked, little clouds of dust coming up along with each slide of his toes.

Killian glanced up questioningly, his eyes searching his father's face for something to explain why he was here.

It had been a long time, but… maybe his father wanted him to smile like he used to? Smile until the early hours of the morning and his face would ache throughout the next day.

"Killian, lad—" His father's words slurred together, "I need you – need you to pack your things."

"What?" He whispered, sitting up on his mat carefully as to not wake Liam, "Are we going somewhere, papa?"

Killian suddenly felt the prick of tears behind his eyes. This had something to do with him, he knew it. He had ruined everything when he lost the game earlier. But he wouldn't cry, Killian knew his father hated tears.

"Aye, lad. I – I found us a way out of the fucking mud pit. Got us passage on a new ship, you like ships, don't you lad?" His father's mouth curved up in a sloppy, false smile.

Killian nodded vigorously, feeling the shame leave him momentarily. He loved living on a ship much better than in the towns. He always felt closer to his mother when he was able to sleep near the sea.

"I'll wake Liam up!"

Just as he was about to turn and shake his brother's arm, his father's hand shot out and his shaking fingers curled around Killian's wrist like a vice.

"No!" His father hissed, almost falling down to kneel beside the mat.

"W-what?" Killian's eyes widened as they moved to his father's face. What he saw there made him want to pull away. The rage he'd seen etched there earlier when he and Liam fought was back again.

"You – you can't wake him."

Confusion flooded Killian's mind like a thick fog. He was tired and he didn't understand.

"But…" He trailed off, feeling even more unsure than he had a moment ago.

"Liam… Your brother can't come with us, lad… It can only be you and me."

"I don't…" Killian looked down at his brother's sleeping face, sure he was missing something crucial. "I don't understand, Papa…"

"I've only got room for two. Liam will be fine without us, lad." His father smiled like it was supposed to be reassuring, but all Killian felt was sick. "He's a man now and he can take care of himself. You and me, Killian, we… we can start over again, don't you want that?"

"I…"

Killian did want to leave, he wanted to go back to the sea more than anything. He wanted things to go back to normal. He wanted them all to be happy. But more than that he wanted them to be together.

Killian frowned at his father, for the first time in his life he felt angry towards the man before him.

"I'm not going anywhere without Liam."

His father let out a little groan, "He can't come, lad! Liam – Liam doesn't understand, he doesn't believe in me any more. You believe in me, don't you Killian?"

"Of course I do, Papa!" Killian hissed back, "But I won't leave my brother behind!"

His father's face darkened as the grip on Killian's wrist tightened.

"Pack your things, boy. We're leaving."

His father made to pull him off of the mat, but Killian pulled back with all his might. Before his father wouldn't have been fazed by the efforts of his small body, but when he stank like this, Killian felt those shaking fingers loose in surprise.

"No! I told you, I'm not going anywhere without Liam!" Killian's voice rose with every word.

Clammy fingers covered his mouth as his father's eyes widened, glancing over to Liam's still sleeping form.

"Shh!" His father hissed at him again, eyes shifting to his youngest son with a glare.

Killian glared right back trying to pry off the offending fingers. He started to speak again but his father cut him off.

"Fine! Fine, lad, we don't have to go!"

Killian stilled as the hand pulled away. He still felt the anger running down his veins liked fire, but something in the way his father seemed to deflate made him sad. He stared at his father for a few long moments.

"Do you promise?"

His father wouldn't look at him, his half-curled on the floor and pitiful.

"I… I promise, lad."

"We can go as soon as you get a ticket for Liam."

Killian crossed his arms trying to look like his brother did when Liam was sure of something. He was sure he didn't look even half so confident, but he was too tired to care.

"Aye…" His father stood up ungracefully, stumbling towards the door and glanced back at his son. He looked different in the half-light of the moon. For a moment Killian wasn't even sure he recognized the ragged man before him. "Then we'll leave."

Killian nodded, shuffling back onto his mat, "Goodnight, papa."

There was no reply, but there hardly ever was these days.

Killian dropped back down and pulled his blanket up. Still feeling cold he wormed his way under Liam's blanket too. After a moment, he felt his brother's protective arm come up around his small frame. Killian smiled and knew he made the right decision. They could all leave together once they got enough money.

They were all family and you never leave family behind.

Killian closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

He woke up the next day, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Glancing at the small slats of light that peered through the uneven wood, Killian could tell it was already late in the morning. He shot up quickly, wondering why no one had woken him. Liam normally prodded him awake just after dawn when he left for work so Killian could start on his chores.

Scrambling out on to the cold dirt floor, Killian quickly slipped on his worn shoes and ran to the next room. He skidded to a halt when he saw Liam hunched over the broken table that took up most of the room. His brother's shoulders were shaking and suddenly fear ran through him cold as ice.

"Liam…?"

Something wasn't right… His brother would normally be at work now. Why was he shaking?

Liam stilled, turning his face slowly towards Killian. He almost took a step back when he saw his brother's eyes were red and wet, his teeth clenched in an agonized grimace. Killian hadn't seen his brother cry since their mother had…

"Liam, are you…?"

Killian took a few hesitant steps forward, placing a small hand on his brother's arm, hoping to make him feel safe like Liam always did for him.

"He's gone."

Liam looked away, a pained hiss escaping from his clenched teeth as his hands balled into fists, sharp anger and sadness cut into every line of his body.

"What?" Killian blinked in confusion.

"Father," Liam spat out the word like a curse, like the sounds were made of ash on his tongue, "is gone."

Killian's eyes fell to a scrap of paper he hadn't noticed that was crushed in his brother's left hand. His mind went blank.

"Gone where?"

Somewhere deep in the dark places of his mind Killian was connecting the dots, but in front of him, his brother was in pain and he couldn't… he just couldn't think. He felt cold. He felt sick. He felt… he felt helpless and afraid and horribly small.

"Who fucking cares," Liam turned away again, more angry tears falling from his face.

"Who even fucking cares?" His brother shouted as he pounded a fist into the old wood, "I'm glad he's gone, that drunken bastard!"

Killian felt his arms going numb as it fell away from Liam's arm. He felt his whole body going numb.

"Damn it!" Liam cried out and Killian felt his heart break just a little bit more. "Damn it, damn it, damn it! I can't –" Each word was punctuated with another punch to the table, "I can't…"

"Liam…" Killian started in a small voice, numbness still clouding his brain, "What're… what're we going to do?"

His brother looked down at him with wide eyes like he'd almost forgotten Killian was still there. His gaze softened and Liam took a few deep, shaking breaths. He pulled his little brother up with a bloody hand, gathering him in his arms so tightly Killian almost couldn't breath.

"We'll stick together, okay?"

He felt the wet tracks of Liam's tears against the skin of his forehead and for a moment he just wanted to go back to sleep. To wake up from this nightmare to when his mother was still able to smile at him and hold him again.

But he wouldn't wake up. Killian knew that was the dream.

"I won't leave you, Killian, I promise."

He believed Liam, he had never trusted anyone's words more than he did his brother's. But nagging at his the frayed edges of his mind, Killian couldn't help suppress the dark thoughts that were forming there.

His mother had promised him that.

His father had promised him that.

And they… they were…

Killian finally felt whatever barrier he had pushed between himself and the cold, aching sadness that crashed all around him like a great wave. He felt the tears he'd promised not to shed pour from his eyes between each gasp of air. He hurt. He hurt so much and for the second time in his life, he felt like something was tearing at his chest.