Liam checked the rope, running it through his callused fingers to make sure it was right. It didn’t matter, not really. It was close enough and soon would be bloodied and tossed over the side. Killian always rushed the process, sometimes even taking a few extra lashes for not doing it right, but Liam never did. There was no sense in wasting the calm before the storm.
Killian’s mumbled apology startled him away from the task and he looked up.
No, he shouldn’t. And neither should Killian. It wasn’t fair, and he hated that Killian would have to assemble on deck with everyone else to see the punishment. But wishing and complaining had never made things better in his experience.
“I’m fine, Killian. Really. I’ll be fine,” he insisted, managing a weak smile for his little brother’s sake. “I always am.” There had been plenty of times like this to demonstrate that. And would doubtless be many more.
“Come on.” He picked up the whip with forced casualness as he stood. “We’re both supposed to be on deck.”
“It’s not fair,” Killian whispered, the words coming out dangerously close to a whimper.
His muscles burned. A useless instinct to run or fight when there was nowhere to run and no one to fight. No one to fight that wouldn’t make it worse… He wondered if it were possible to murder a man with nothing but a scrub brush and a leaky bucket. Knock the captain over the head with the bucket, shove the brush down his throat…
They’d both be tied hand and foot and thrown overboard, if they were lucky. But gods would it feel good for just a moment. He felt a light brush of fingers against the back of his clenched fist and he took a breath, forcing his gaze away from the captain and back to his brother.
“This isn’t fair,” he repeated again, uselessly.
For a moment Liam looked like he were about to say something but an officer grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back towards the gathering crowd on deck. To the place of ‘honor’; the Captain’s favorite place to make Killian stand, where he’d likely be cleaning blood off himself as well as his brother when all this was over.
Killian’s fists clenched again in a desperate bid to control his temper. Any sound from him would make things so much worse. His nails bit into his palms and he focused on them. After all, it was the only measure of fairness that he could now control, that he would spill first blood today.