Whumpetition / @badthingshappenbingo prompt #6: Tortured for information.
(the latest in my growing collection of whumplets in the universe of ‘the darling affair’ verse by @icecubelotr44)
1. I know you’re in there 2. Buried Alive 3. Ambulance Ride 4. Sadistic Choice 5. Outnumbered (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
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He knew what they were doing. Softening up. That's what they called it. The questions would come later…
Liam didn't say a word, didn't let out a sound, just let the blows fall, closing his eyes against a growing nausea and dizziness until a strangled cry echoed from next to him and his eyes snapped open. Killian.
Killian.
There was a blade lodged in Killian's shoulder, a stream of scarlet dripping steadily down his shirt and puddling on the floor. Killian swayed on his feet, already a shade or two paler than he should be. Liam charged forward, the metal cuffs cutting into his wrists and wrenching his shoulders back painfully. "No!" Liam cried, tugging against the the chains desperately.
"Now that we have your attention," the man nearest Killian commented... "here's what's going to happen."
"I'll tell you what's going to happen," Killian broke in, slowly raising his head. "Our people are going to find us," he locked eyes with Liam and Liam knew it was meant to be reassuring. It probably would have been if Killian weren't white as a sheet and swaying on his feet. "-and you are going to spend the rest of your miserable excuse for a life in a damp, dark hole."
The man sighed in exasperation and bent, pulling a wet rag from a bucket behind him. Without another word he knotted the rag tightly over Killian's mouth and nose. There was a moment of panic in Killian's eyes before he shuttered it away and allowed himself to fall limp. He hung, motionless, from his shackles and Liam's heart clenched in his chest. It was a smart choice and not an easy one. Conserving oxygen might be a wise choice but it's bloody hard to convince a panicking nervous system of the fact. Liam knew all this. Still, seeing Killian hanging limp from those chains made his own breath come short in panic. He held his breath instinctively so he'd know when too much time had passed.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. What is going to happen-" the man paused pointedly and Liam's lungs burned. "You are going to give us access to JR solutions secure server from that computer." The man nodded towards the desk. "Once we have administrative access confirmed we will lock out your people and let you and whatever is left of your brother go. Simple as that."
The panic returned to Killian's eyes and Liam felt himself take a breath. Killian fought weakly for a moment, the panic finally taking over the rational side that knew he was no better able to escape the chains than he had been earlier. The man moved to release the knot, Killian's struggles counterproductive, making it take a moment or two longer than it should have. The cloth hit the floor with a heavy slap and Killian gasped and choked, lungs desperate for air. Then Killian was laughing and Liam wanted to smack him himself.
"The server-" Killian's laugh turned into another fit of coughing before he looked up again. "You think he's going to give you the server, you think he's going to give you the lives of all our agents in the field, all our informants, all our players? You're out of your bloody mind."
Liam knew that little speech was intended for him, not for their captors and he shot Killian an exasperated look. He knew what letting access fall into enemy hands could do.
"Or," the man continued as though Killian hadn't spoken at all. He reached up and gripped the knife in Killian's shoulder, twisting it until Killian screamed in agony.
"Killian!" Liam shouted, surging forward again, straining at the farthest reach of the chains that held him back. The man stopped twisting the knife and Killian slumped against the chains. He stopped screaming when the man let go of the knife in his shoulder, but his breathing was still ragged.
Killian took a moment to compose his breathing before he looked up, meeting Liam's worried gaze and managing a lopsided smile. "They always trail off after 'or'," Killian mumbled.
"You want me to finish the sentence?" the man asked and Liam shuddered at the chill in his voice. He wanted to tell Killian to be silent, but he knew now it wouldn't make a difference. Killian was leverage, and until he gave them what they wanted no amount of prudence from his brother would make a difference. The man met Liam's eyes as he continued. "Give me what I want, or I take it out of your brother's flesh." He twisted the knife again, dragging another scream from Killian.
Liam winced, closing his eyes for a moment.
Administrative access.
It was everything.
It meant safehouses and cover identities. It meant informants and operations reports. It meant real names and emergency contacts and addresses. Liam sagged and shook his head.
The man smiled, leaving Killian where he hung to approach Liam. There was something predatory in that smile. He'd be willing to bet that this man was an… independent contractor of sorts, doing the wet work for whoever actually wanted this information from him. He showed no disappointment that the information was not forthcoming. In fact, he seemed to relish the opportunity of resistance.
"I have to admit," he drawled. "I was hoping you'd say that."
_____
Killian's screams ripped through Liam and he could swear the knife was cutting through his own flesh. Killian fell limp when the twisting stopped, his sarcasm yielded to quiet exhaustion what felt like hours ago. His breathing was ragged and heavy and blood dripped down his arms from wrists too long made to support his whole weight. Liam's stomach churned and he swallowed hard, praying he wouldn't be sick.
"What kind of a man lets his own brother die for a few letters and numbers?" the man asked, his fingers resting lightly on the blade. He left Killian's side and approached Liam again. His hands were covered in Killian's blood and it was all Liam could do not to lunge at the man. It didn't help. His chains were too solid and all it accomplished was to send him laughing back to his torture of Killian.
Bloody hands grabbed Liam's face and pulled him forward. Liam could smell Killian's blood, could taste it now and his stomach threatened mutiny again. "Give me something" the voice from behind him implored, "I don't want to kill him, but you have to give me something"
"Liam Jones, Captain-"
"I swear, if you give me your name, rank and serial number one more time I will pull out his intestines through his throat."
"If he dies," Liam hissed, "You'll never get into that server. And when my men come and take off these shackles there will be no cell for you. I will strangle you with my bare hands."
The man chuckled. "Your men sure are taking their sweet time, aren't they Captain? There was a flash of silver and the man cut deep gouges into both of Liam's palms. He felt nothing at first, his hands having begun to grow numb from the pressure around his wrists. Then pain bloomed and Liam's jaw tightened as warm blood trickled down his arms. "Just in case, I best be sure you're in no condition to use your hands."
"Come on now-" Killian called from across the room. His voice was weak and Liam stiffened.
Don't… Killian, please don't.
"I thought we had somethin' special. Don't tell me you slice up just anyone." The man turned back towards Killian and Liam lunged, desperate to keep the man's attention on him for just a moment longer.
Liam managed to catch him off guard and knocked out his feet from under him. Before the man could blink Liam was bearing down on him, as far as the chains would allow. There was a snap as Liam stomped on the man's leg and a cry of agony that wasn't Killian's echoed across the room.
"I don't need my hands, you bastard!" Liam seethed, "Touch him again and I'll use my bloody teeth. I swear. Touch him again and I'll rip-" he didn't get much farther, stiffening abruptly as pain arced through him from behind, straining every muscle to its breaking point while the man with the broken leg was dragged away. When his vision cleared his legs were bound as tightly as his wrists. They hadn't bothered with Killian's.
That didn't surprise him. Killian looked like he could barely lift his head much less stage an attack. For a few blessed moments they were left alone. Killian slumped in the chains that suspended him from the ceiling, too weak and exhausted to hold himself up. The knife was still in his shoulder though it had been twisted so frequently that it was doing little to stem the flow of blood. If the chains had allowed Killian to fall he'd probably have bled to death long before now. As it was, the chains held him upright, held the muscles taut and stiff and kept the wound above his heart. He still bled sluggishly and was horrifyingly pale but he'd survive it if he got medical attention soon.
Soon.
What the bloody hell was taking Scarlet so long.
They weren't in some cave 5000 miles from headquarters. They had been attacked less than a block from JR Solutions. The drive couldn't have taken them more than a few hours from the city. He'd tossed his phone in a dumpster after texting scarlet, and though his memory was foggy from the drugs, he didn't think they'd found it. That meant Scarlet had a point of origin. It should have been a simple matter of following the vehicle on the cities myriad of cameras…
Where was he?
Liam leaned toward Killian, the chains on his wrists frustrating his attempts to reach for his suffering brother.
"I'm sorry, Killian," Liam murmured quietly. He didn't dare say much, knowing the walls doubtless had ears.
"Not your fault," Killian mumbled not raising his head.
Their wounded tormentor's groans grew more distant and a new face took center stage. It was vaguely familiar though a bit swollen from the broken nose Liam had graced him with so many hours ago now. The man struck Liam hard, smashing a fist into his nose. He probably should have seen that coming… The blows rained down faster after that and it was damn near a relief to not hear his brother's screams. It didn't last.
"Boy, your mother must have dropped you on your head as an infant. I'm over here, moron." Liam cringed. Killian's voice was quiet but Liam's attacker looked up. "Was she drunk? Too busy with the mailman? I bet she didn't give you enough hugs as a child. Or maybe she gave you too many. Maybe she likes little b-" The man shoved a dirty rag into Killian's mouth and once more the odd sense of relief swept over Liam. Killian was trying to get their attention off him again, and he was bloody good at it.
He nodded to someone behind Liam and there was a whoosh air and a sudden heat. Liam twisted to see and winced back from the wall of flames. With a deliberate movement the man picked up a pipe that had already met his ribs once and Killian's far too many times and tossed it into the bonfire.
"What is it going to take?" their new lead questioner asked, circling Liam. "Your own pain isn't enough, clearly." He struck Liam again in the side where he was pretty sure there was already at least one broken rib. "Your brother's pain isn't enough.." He pressed on the knife in Killian's shoulder and Killian moaned through the gag. "So we're gonna have some fun," the torturer said. "Clearly you aren't empathetic enough. So I'm going to help you."
He pressed the heated pipe against Liam's leg. Pain overwhelmed him, burning through the fabric of his pants, through skin. He thrashed and screamed, trying to pull away from the agony burning through him. The chains held him firm and what retreat he managed was easily matched by his tormentor. Liam couldn't stop himself from screaming until the bar finally was pulled away. Distantly, he could hear Killian yelling through the gag.
"That... tickled," Liam bit out through his gasps.
He heard Killian groan and saw him glare. Clearly he considered taunting their captors his domain.
"It's a good thing it wasn't too bad for you," the torturer said. "Because I'm about to do the same thing to your brother."
Liam's stomach dropped. "No. No, that's not... that's not necessary."
"So you're ready to let us in to the server?" the man asked.
Liam's eyes shut, the burn on his thigh radiating pain and throbbing mercilessly.
"No," he whispered through clenched teeth.
"You're killing him," the man hissed, "this is your doing. Every drop of blood is borne of your poor judgement." Then he spun towards Killian and pulled the gag from his mouth. "Can't let your brother miss hearing your screams," he said reasonably.
"That'd be a real shame," Killian said. He tried to steel himself, tried not to scream, but when the burning metal touched his leg, he can't bite back a howl of agony.
_____
Liam really had no clue how much time passed, but they'd both been beaten, burned, shocked... And Killian was starting to fade. His cries had less strength. He was barely making an effort to anger their tormentors.
"Killian, don't," Liam whispered. His voice was hoarse from his own screams and weak from his own exhaustion. He was shaking from pain and fear and sorrow. "Don't give up on me now. Alright, little brother? Don't leave me alone here." One of their torturers ripped the knife from Killian's torn shoulder and pressed heated metal to the wound. Killian didn't even manage a scream, just a broken sob. Liam thinks that sound hurts worse than anything else he has endured.
"Stop!" Liam begged. "Please, just stop."
"Ready to give us access?" one of the men asked, not the broken nosed man who was busy pulling the heated metal from Killian's shoulder. Killian didn't even react to the relief, just stayed slumped in the chains, shuddering in pain.
"I..." Liam started, not even sure what he was planning to say. 'No. Go ahead and keep hurting us. Hurting him.? Yes. Give my brother a clean death and then you can capture and torture everyone else who trusts me?'
Killian coughed and mumbled something, too quiet and broken to for Liam to understand what he was trying to say.
"Killian?" Liam asked.
Killian managed to raise his head enough to meet Liam's eyes. He was shaking and covered in bruises and burns and his own blood, but there was still fire in his eyes. "Alice," Killian managed to say. He slumped back in the chains, like that was all he was really holding on to say.
And Liam understood. Few even knew Emma was pregnant with a girl, let alone that Killian and Emma had been discussing naming the baby after his and Liam's mother. If Liam revealed the codes, it wasn't just his agents that were in danger. It was Killian's wife and unborn child, Liam's sister in-law and unborn niece. And Liam couldn't place them in danger, not even to spare Killian this. Whatever torments were in store for either of them, Killian would endure any of them gladly for the sake of his family, just as Liam would endure anything for Killian.
"You can kill us if you want," Liam said, his eyes fixed on Killian.. His voice was shaking, but he was firm in his decision, in Killian's decision. "But no matter what you do to either of us, I am never giving you that code."
Whatever else happened, Emma and Alice would be safe. There wasn't much Liam could do to protect Killian now, but he could give his little brother that comfort at least.
It should have been a relief when they released Killian from his chains. It should have been an opportunity. But Instead of fighting back, running, anything, Killian simply collapsed in a shuddering heap, whimpering softly.
"Fine. Bring it," their captor called, and two of the men came into Liam's sight with a shallow tub of water.
"No," Liam whispered, his terror climbing as he watched the sloshing of the water in the tub. Water was dangerous. More dangerous than anything they'd faced yet. A few seconds too long. A slight miscalculation... Water meant they were willing to up the ante, to risk accidentally drowning Killian to get what they wanted. "Stop," Liam cried. "I can't give you what you want, I can't. But we can talk about this, we can come to some kind of arrangement..." He was stalling. Badly. And they knew it. "Don't do this," he pleaded, "You'll kill him-"
The man gave a little half smile that made Liam's blood run cold. "Then stop me."
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Tagging the ‘competitors’ and the peanut gallery! @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl@icecubelotr44@hollyethecurious @killian-whump @cocohook38
If you’d like to be added or removed from the whumpetition tag list aka the peanut gallery! let me know
All prompts from last and this year: HERE
Previous Days: Stabbed | Bloody Hands | Insomnia | Stop! | Poisoned | Betrayed | Kidnapped | Fever | Stranded | Bruises | Hypothermia | Electrocution
for Whump-etition, entry 1
Killian half expected the porch light to flicker on and off as if he were a teenager breaking curfew with Liam waiting impatiently inside. He thought that his nosy neighbor might peek out from her curtain and chastise him. There was always the possibility that one of his enemies was out there, biding his time and just waiting to make his move.
But Killian wasn’t a teenager, his nosy neighbor thought he and Emma were a cute couple, and… well, as for his enemies, he’d taken every precaution in choosing this neighborhood and this home. And, after all, Liam was just inside should they need anything.
Until then, Killian was going to take another moment to enjoy the scratch of his wife’s fingers in his hair and the feel of her pressed up against their door as he, admittedly, made out with her like they were a couple of carefree teenagers. If anyone had something to say about it, they could take it up with him in the morning.
“Killian,” Emma managed while he took a breath, “maybe we should-”
Killian slanted his lips over hers again before she could finish her sentence. Emma giggled in a way that neither of them had been carefree enough in a long time to manage, so he continued his efforts to make her forget about everything except for him and the bubble of nothing that they could exist in on this side of the doorway.
Time had no sense of meaning as they lost themselves in one another, Killian with half an ear on his surroundings but no real notice of anything but the sweet sounds he could pull from Emma with just a little effort. He’d learned them all before, would know them in an instant if he were quizzed, but it didn’t make a difference. To Killian, drawing them from her was just one more perk to being in love with her.
“Come on, Casanova,” Emma finally managed, pulling back just far enough to brush noses with him. “I want to check on Alice.”
Killian whined a little, leaning forward and chasing her lips. “She’s been with Liam all night, luv. The old worrywart would have called if her fever spiked.” Before she could protest, though, he reached around her to unlock the door. Emma wasn’t the only one who wanted to check on their princess. He hated seeing any of his family ill.
The alarm wasn’t on.
The telltale beeping should have been insistently begging Killian to put it out of its misery, more adamant than Will Scarlet’s cat looking for attention as soon as the door was opened. He was halfway through the steps by rote, plugging in the disarm code when he realized.
The alarm wasn’t on.
“Killian?” Emma asked with a quiver in her voice that he wanted to erase but couldn’t. Not when his own hands were shaking in a way they hadn’t since he was a recruit being chewed out by his first drill instructor.
He keyed in the emergency code that would summon the police and Will Scarlet’s attention, then pulled a gun he kept stashed on the shelf above the alarm box.
“Stay behind me, Sw-” he started to order when he smelled it. The sweet, sickly smell of blood. No.
This wasn’t supposed to happen here. His family was supposed to be safe. God, he’d made fun of Liam before they left for how vigilant he was being because it was supposed to be safe here. It wasn’t supposed-
Liam was… God, his brother was…
Killian left Swan behind, taking the stairs three at a time once he saw it - his big brother’s hand, white and limp, outstretched but so, so still as it hung off the landing. Liam’s eyes were mere slits, his lashes inky against his cheeks, but his gaze tracking the movements Killian made as he crashed down at his brother’s side. Liam flinched away from the perceived threat, drawing a breathy moan that chilled Killian to the core but also buoyed him - if Liam was still making sounds, he was still alive.
“Alice?” Emma’s voice echoed through the rooms - her whisper sounding like a shout for all that it moved the stillness of the house. He wanted to quiet her; wanted her to run back to the SUV and take off for safety.
He wanted her to find their daughter hiding under their bed.
He wanted Liam not to be bleeding out on their floor, hot sticky blood coursing over Killian’s fingers as he pressed down.
He wanted this to be a nightmare.
“‘m sorry,” Liam managed, the words coming out in spurts of air.
Killian shook his head, pushing down harder over where the blood was bubbling. “Shut up. Stop talking.”
“‘liss…” Liam tried again.
Killian just pushed down even harder, the give of ribs under his hands terrifying. “Shut up, brother. Stop talking,” he ordered again. His brother wasn’t supposed to be the one who… he was the one who should be put in the line of fire. Not Liam. Not Alice.
Never Alice.
God, where was she?
Killian snarled when a hand reached into his line of vision and plucked the gun from where he’d left it by his knee. He didn’t have a hand to reach for it, couldn’t let up on the pressure he was holding for an inst-
“I’m going upstairs,” Emma told him, her fingers deftly checking the ammunition in his gun by rote before sidling around Liam and out of sight.
He didn’t want her to do that. He wanted her safe. He needed to know that one goddamned bloody member of his family was safe. He didn’t want her to be the one checking the rooms upstairs. He didn’t want her to find…
No, he couldn’t think like that. Alice couldn’t be… she couldn’t. Not his baby girl. She was too little, too innocent to…
John had been little and innocent, too.
Liam’s weak cry was the only thing that drew him back; he hadn’t even realized that he’d shifted to kneel on his brother’s chest, desperate to stop the bleeding. Desperate to keep one thing in his bloody control.
“Alice?” Emma shouted this time, her voice shrill in a way Killian never wanted to hear again.
God, no. It just kept repeating in his head. She couldn’t be… she wasn’t up there. She wasn’t… his Alice was good at hide and go seek. She never lost when she and her brother played.
Oh God, DJ.
He hadn’t had time to think of his son yet. He didn’t have time to think about his little boy, now. Everything was spiraling out of control and he was trying to hold onto some kind of sanity that currently felt like quicksand running through his fingers. His brother. His daughter. His son. His whole family.
Killian was supposed to be the one bleeding out alone somewhere, lost and alone with the only relief being that it was him in danger; not them. Never them.
They were his anchor in the storm; they were his lighthouse, calling him home again.
“‘m sor…” Liam faded out, his eyes finally slipping shut with a tiny puff of air that made Killian want to scream to the heavens.
“No. No! No no nonononono! Liam, you bastard!” he shouted instead, one hand sliding out from under his knee to slip over Liam’s pulse point, leaving a streak of bright red blood in its wake.
Liam’s skin was cool, clammy, and utterly silent beneath the pads of Killian’s fingers.
Killian felt like he was choking, like someone had wrapped their icy fingers around his throat when he wasn’t paying attention and had begun to squeeze. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.
All his training must have kicked in by reflex, because he was pumping at Liam’s chest before he’d even realized his brother’s heart wasn’t beating. One and two and three and don’t think of the shark song and eight and nine…
“Killian, she’s not here,” Emma’s voice stabbed him in the gut, an icy blade of sheer terror that nearly made him stop counting - nearly. He risked a glance up, his hands still pistoning up and down as he counted in his head.
He shouldn’t have looked up.
Emma, his strong Emma who had faced down terrorists with nothing more than her determination to rescue him backing her, had tears tracking down her cheeks as she stood at the top of the stairs trembling. Alice’s bunny was clutched to her chest, the barrel of his gun jammed under the ratty animal’s chin as if she were holding it hostage.
“I called her and I looked everywhere. I used the safe word. She should have come out. Killian, why didn’t she come out? It’s safe now. We’re here.”
Killian froze for a moment, his hands coming away from Liam’s chest as if he could reach up the stairs and tear the gun away from where Emma had it pointed - at her own chin. She knew better; he knew she knew better, but everything was wrong. The world had turned topsy-turvy on them. “We’ll find her, luv. Just, just lower the gun, yeah?”
Emma kept rambling as she turned away from him, moving down the hallway out of sight and calling for Alice again, but at least the gun was pointed away from her again. He could hear the crash of doors slamming open and furniture being moved out of the way, but he couldn’t do anything.
Nothing except count and breathe air into his brother’s lungs and try to keep the damned Baby Shark song out of his head - he didn’t need the reminder that his baby boy was out there somewhere, too. God, he hoped the security team was on alert after Scarlet got the ca-
The door crashed open, guns pointed at him and loud voices and Killian was scrabbling with one hand for the weapon he’d left by his knee while the other kept beating on his brother’s chest.
The gun wasn’t there.
Emma had the gun.
“Stand down, Jones!” a familiar voice cut through the adrenaline and the hopelessness that was threatening to paralyze him. He couldn’t get to a weapon, he had to keep Liam alive. He couldn’t move, he needed to protect… he needed…
As if moving through mud, his thoughts caught up with his reflexes. That was Robin coming through the door, ordering him to stand down. He could go back to concentrating on Liam.
Maybe Robin could find Alice. She was a good hider.
One and two and three and Baby Shark do do…
DJ was never allowed to sing that song again. Ever.
Ribs splintered under the heel of his hand, but he kept going. Too many years of training and too many combatants felled in the field with him allowed him to ignore the fracturing of his brother’s bones under his ministrations. He could worry about the long term effects of broken ribs once Liam was goddamned breathing again.
Liam couldn’t afford for him to falter. Liam was dead if he didn’t-
“Alice! Where are you? Come out! Cheshire! Cheshire, sweetheart! Come out now!” Emma shouted again, drawing Robin’s attention away from where he was ordering his men to secure the residence. Startled eyes met Killian’s own panicked and pleading gaze as Robin took to the stairs and crouched next to him.
“I can take ov-” he started, but Killian’s head jerked spasmodically to wave him off. He could do this. This, he could control. One and two and three and… he couldn’t poof Alice out of thin air.
He couldn’t give his wife back their daughter right now.
Alice wasn’t there.
Liam was.
Robin nodded once, rising to stand when the door crashed open again. He stepped down one stair, putting his body in front of Killian and Liam, making Killian’s hackles raise for a moment before he finished the cycle of CPR and bent to breathe for his brother again. The chain of command didn’t matter right now. What mattered was that Robin had eyes on him. He wouldn’t let them down.
“Boston PD! Stand down!”
Killian ignored the standoff behind him entirely, letting Robin handle the logistics and the jurisdiction of the scene as he focused on his brother. Emma was still tearing apart the rooms upstairs, calling for a little girl Killian was absolutely sure wasn’t coming.
He was pretty sure that Emma knew that, too.
“Medics are here, mate; let’s let them work, aye?” Robin ordered an eternity later as Killian finished his ninth round of CPR.
Ninth? Was it only nine? It couldn’t have been, he thought wildly as John Little appeared from nowhere and hauled him bodily to his feet. Killian would need to know for the after action report; he’d be expected to fill in the details leading to his brother’s… to Liam’s…
Killian hit his knees again, the hardwood lip jarring whatever thoughts he’d had from his mind as he reached for Liam’s hand. He couldn’t lose his brother. He couldn’t lose Liam. He needed Liam to tell him what to do next. He needed orders.
He needed his big brother to fix the mess he’d found himself in.
Hands tried to bat him away, tried to keep him from grasping at Liam’s cold fingers and intertwining them together, tried to keep him from holding on tight to the one person who’d been there for him for as long as he could remember.
“Stay with me, Liam,” he begged quietly, his own fingers twitching in the air as Liam’s body jerked under the power of the defibrillator. “Please, brother. Please, just… please. Stay.”
He needed help. He needed someone to tell him what to do. He needed-
“Killian?” Emma’s voice again, somewhere above him. Pleading with him for guidance of her own.
He needed someone to help.
“Aye, luv,” he called out shakily, watching as the paramedics loaded his brother onto a stretcher and made their way to the still-open front door. It only took a minute for her to be wrapped in his arms, their combined tremors making it hard to tell where one of them stopped and the other began.
“Are you going with him?” she asked into his chest, her voice almost muffled enough to disguise the naked fear in her voice.
Of course he was. That was a ridiculous question. Liam needed him; he needed Liam. He needed to pester bloody Victor Whale until his brother was on the mend. Of course he was go-
Alice.
Bloody buggering hell. He couldn’t go with Liam. Of course he couldn’t. What a ridiculous thought. He needed to get to the office. He needed a status report on his son. He needed Scarlet to move Heaven and Earth to get his little boy safely within the confines of JR Solutions and into his arms. Safe. God, he needed one of his children safe so he could concentrate on saving the other.
She wasn’t here. That meant she wasn’t dead. That was the only line of thinking he could entertain.
“Killian?” Emma asked again, frightened green eyes boring into his soul.
The hospital was safe enough for her. With Liam within its walls, the place would be harder to get into than bloody Fort Knox once Scarlet had his way.
“Can you go with him, luv? I need to find-”
Emma nodded before he was finished, stepping back and drawing the armor - that he both hated and loved seeing - over herself protectively. “Bring our baby home, Jones.”
He nodded once before watching her back as she jogged out the door and after his brother. Half of his family was in that ambulance; whoever Scarlet had on the security detail for it better be up to par. He’d tear them limb from limb if they weren’t.
“Orders, Boss?” Robin asked from his right shoulder, as if his men weren’t already on patrol and hounding the detectives on scene for information.
Killian shuttered everything else out, pulling his own armor snugly around him and locking the terror of the last few minutes into a box. He was going to make sure DJ was safe, then he was going to find his daughter and make sure the world knew never to touch his children again.
Whoever they were, they’d just made their last mistake.
Inspired by another song, Many of Horror, by Biffy Clyro. Still not up to my usual physical whump, but I’m easing into it... I hope...
Tagging the other players: @icecubelotr44 @gusenitsaa @pirate-owl
We were two lost souls.
I thought that made us different. Special. Connected.
I trusted you. Shouldn’t have. You broke my heart, left me with the loot, sent me to jail.
But that wasn’t the worst part, Neal.
You destroyed my chance for a family.
See, I trusted no one before you. Don’t know why you were different, kicking myself for it became a habit in jail, and for years afterward. Thought I’d be alone forever, like my parents must have wanted by giving me up, like those foster parents were telling me by skipping over me, handing me back, letting me down again and again until I became numb.
But you thawed all that, Neal. Convinced me to give you a chance. That we could be more than our broken pasts, better than the families that didn’t want us.
And then you ran, leaving me behind, holding your watch and carrying your child. The child I might have kept, if you’d stayed. The opportunity for a real family if only you’d loved me enough.
But you left. I lost you, lost hope, lost the ability to imagine family as anything other than pain. Gave the kid away, couldn’t even look at him.
I moved on. Grew up, got a job, made something of myself. On my own. The only one who saves me is me.
Not sure why I’m thinking of you now. I thought I was done with memories of you. Should be thinking of other things, better things, my life without you. So why do you always pop into mind this time of year?
We were two lost souls, and you should have let me stay lost.
(the latest in my growing collection of whumplets in the universe of ‘the darling affair’ verse by @icecubelotr44)
1. I know you’re in there 2. Buried Alive 3. Ambulance Ride 4. Sadistic Choice (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
Liam Jones never drank more than two drinks while he was out, and only bottles he could open himself. Killian called him paranoid with a teasing look. The taunt rang even more hollow than usual when his little brother pulled the two glasses from his bag. Open drinks, prepared food, even glassware was suspect. In their line of work, a little paranoia went a long way towards staying alive. Fortunately, the bartender indulged their eccentricities and always gave them their bottles sealed.
It hadn’t been much of night out at all really, but Killian had insisted on a drink after work before he went home to Emma. He had news, as it turned out. News that drove him to pack tumblers in his bag and half drag his older brother from his desk five minutes earlier than their agreed upon time. News that made his eyes light up in that peculiar way that had, eventually, made Liam adore Emma Swan nearly as much as his brother did.
A child.
To be named for their mother, a secret he was to guard with his life until Emma worked up the nerve to tell the Nolans, and he’d rarely guarded so precious a secret.
Hadn’t it only been yesterday Killian had been hardly more than a child himself? And now… Perhaps it was the news. Or the drink. Or the light in Killian’s eyes but he shook his head, feeling a little giddy himself as they left the establishment. He was going to be an Uncle.
The giddiness amplified though and his step faltered. He hadn't eaten today, hadn't had time, but really... it was only one drink. It only took one glance over at Killian for him to realize it wasn't his poor diet that had caused his world to spin. Killian too looked glassy eyed and... damn... he texted a 911 to Scarlet and took Killian's arm, helping him to lean against the wall. It seemed to have hit Killian faster, perhaps due to his smaller size, already Killian was half-conscious leaning against the wall. Liam’s vision was blurry but he placed himself between his brother and the street, straining to see the threat that must be coming.
The road remained empty for a moment and Liam risked a glance at Killian. His eyes were glazed and distant and after only a moment or two longer he slumped against the wall, the drug too much for his smaller frame. Killian sank, lifeless to the ground and Liam knelt next to him, trying to call out to him but the words came out garbled and unrecognizable, even to him.
A sudden light hit them and Liam spun, two lights. Spotlights. His slow mind didn’t figure out the word headlights until several moments later. Could Scarlet have gotten someone here so fast? His vision was swimming and it was not until the men were within a few feet that he was confident these men were not his.
His words of "get the hell away from my brother" sounded more menacing in his head than they did when they came out and one of the men laughed. Then, suddenly there was blood on his hand and the laughing stopped. Without warning, the man was gone and there was a hard blow to his back that sent him careening to the floor.
Stupid, Liam, stupid. Count your adversaries first, always.
He struggled to his feet, shaking his head and regretting it when the world only spun faster. It was like trying to move in water... in molasses while intoxicated and by the time Liam got off the ground one of the forms was leaning over Killian’s body. The sound he let was fairly indecipherable, but it made the man leaning over Killian pause and look back at him. Not fast enough. Liam charged, slamming the man into the wall before someone was throwing him to the ground again. He stilled when he heard the cock of a gun and looked up into the barrel of a... his mind was distracted for a moment, frustrated by not being able to remember the chamber capacity of a glock 17 before his mind finally comes around to it doesn't matter because now it's pointed at his little brother.
“Pick him up” the voice behind the gun demanded. “Or leave him behind as a smear on the wall.” It must have taken Liam a moment to process the order because the man made a frustrated noise. Liam moved to Killian’s side as quickly as he could, squatting to drape Killian over his shoulders. He lost his balance though, and fell. He heard laughter again and the man nodded at one of the black clad forms who knelt and took something from Liam’s hip. It wasn’t until much later that he'd realize he’d had his service weapon all this time and didn’t even remember it.
When Killian woke he was looking down at the floor of a… he stared for a moment at the pattern, trying to determine what he was looking at. Then the memories began to flicker back in and he bolted upright, his head pounding. He didn’t make it far though, his shoulders pulled back, shackled to something behind him and when he looked up to see what it was, he saw Liam.
Liam was on a bench on the other side of the… van? truck… some kind of vehicle based on the vibration of movement. His hands were behind him as well and he was slumped over, a steady trickle of blood from his temple pooling on the ground at his feet.
“Liam!” Killian called, tugging against the cuffs behind him futilely. “LIAM!”
A tight panic curled in Killian’s chest when Liam didn’t answer. He’s bleeding, Killian told himself, trying to abate the panic. If he’s bleeding his heart is still beating. He took inventory. His service weapon was gone, so was his backup. His legs were immobile too but when he looked down he saw a simple rope knot holding his boots to the bench.
“Idiots” he mumbled under his breath. It was not exactly easy to slip his boot off of one foot but once he did the ropes around his ankles slip loose.
Folding his still booted foot up next to him on the bench he twisted until he could reach the sole of his boot and the lock picks hidden inside with his cuffed hands. That done he was out of the cuffs in moments and moving instantly to his brother, reaching first to check for a pulse at his throat. Steady if a bit slow. He took Liam’s face in both hands; still warm, still breathing.
“Come on Liam- Time to wake up, we have work to do-“ Liam's eyes flickered behind his eyelids and Killian noded, still holding his head up as Liam fought to rouse himself. “That’s it, comeon-“ He let Liam’s head fall to his shoulder as he did inventory for his brother as well. No weapon. No backup. He reached behind Liam to work on his cuffs when suddenly the vehicle braked hard. Killian’s body, missing the memo to stop, hit the side of the wall with a crack that made him see stars. then the back door was thrown open and men came pouring into the back of the vehicle. Killian was overwhelmed before the spots in his vision cleared and before he could fight back his cuffs were back in place and his precious lock picks confiscated along with his boots. “Just in case”, he heard one of the men grumble. (They were right.)
The truck began to move again and he cursed. “How the devil did they know-“ Killian spat, tugging against the new restraints in frustration.
“Killian-“ Liam’s voice was still bleary but he caught Killian’s eye. “At your 9.”
Killian glanced in the indicated direction and almost missed it at first. Then he saw it, a tiny pinpoint camera on the wall. He cursed again. “Sorry, Liam, I didn’t see it.”
“You alright?” Liam murmured.
“Fine, you?”
“Groggy,” Liam said, shaking his head and rubbing the blood from his face with his shoulder. “Dizzy. Otherwise fine.”
“Concussion?” Killian asked.
Liam considered for a moment. Under normal circumstances he might say no to avoid worrying Killian, but like it or not they were now both in the field and Killian needed to know the state of his partner.
“Possibly,” Liam admitted, “How long?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up myself. Who the hell are these guys?”
Liam shook his head, still looking at the floor. His head ached and he was having trouble thinking clearly as he tried to remember the most recent intelligence reports-
“Liam?”
If anything had indicated a higher than usual threat assessment- surely not. He would have noticed any threat to Killian or his family.
“Liam!?”
Movement of Killian’s enemies was strictly monitored and those reports came straight to him before the analysts even had a crack at th-
“LIAM!?”
Liam winced and started. Killian was looking at him intently and he realized he’d gotten lost in his head for a moment. It had been too long since he’d done field work.
“I don’t know” Liam said worriedly after a moment.
“What?”
“I don’t know who they are.”
Killian’s eyebrows lifted and he gave a small shrug “Well whoever they are they sure as hell don’t like us. And whatever they put in those drinks was damn fast. I don’t even remember leaving the bar.”
He eyed Liam carefully, hoping he was cognizant enough to recognize the question under the statement. Had Liam sent a 911, because he hadn't
Liam’s head was spinning and leaned his head back against the wall of the truck hoping it would ease the wave of nausea. “I do- I think…I think I tex-“ he stopped abruptly remembering the camera right before he informed their kidnappers who he’d texted by name. “I think I texted home before I passed out.”
It was a poor recovery as things went but it conveyed what he needed Killian to hear. JR Solutions knew already.
The truck turned and Killian could hear gravel under the tires, Non paved streets probably meant their destination was nearby… Liam recognized the change as well and glanced up at Killian.
“Welcome to the other side” Killian whispered, a tentative smile on his lips.
“The other side?”
“My side. And on my side there’s only two rules. Don’t tell them anything and stay alive until backup arrives.”
Liam thinks there should be three rules. “Don't needlessly antagonize your captors.” But he knows Killian has never learned that rule and he doesn’t mention it. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps if he’d mentioned it Killian would not have deemed it necessary to knee the man who unshackled him from the bench in the gut so hard the man lost his lunch. And when he was replaced by three others he found it entirely necessary to break a nose with his forehead.
It doesn't help him escape. But it sure as hell kept Liam from being the center of attention which was, more or less, the point. It worked. For all of 15 seconds. After which Liam was charging the man that hit him like a damn bull. They were outnumbered and Liam was already concussed, his head swimming, but the brothers Jones were still excellent at fighting back to back. It was more effort, and more bruises and pain than their captors expected to receive.
Liam's lack of recent field experience worked against him and he went down first, under a rain of blows from the captors he has now successfully angered. A man with blood dripping from a freshly broken nose hit Liam hard in the knee and he stumbled, pain flaring and throwing him off balance long enough for someone else to manage a brutal blow to his side that knocked the wind from him and made him see stars. It didn't slow him long, but it was enough for one of the quicker thinkers to drag him forward, away from Killian. Neither of them were truly down yet, but, no longer able to guard each other's back, it was only a very short matter of time.
Killian was better able to roll will the blows, long and recent practice in taking beatings had taught him how to come out of it with some unpleasant bruises, but it wasn't really so bad, by comparison. Liam, he wasn’t as familiar at rolling with it. It had been a while since circumstances called for him to take a punch, and a lot longer since he had taken a real beating.
Liam was on his side, the weight of several men pinning him uselessly to the dirt as he watched Killian fall too, curling up and taking the blows with no more than a grunt now and then. When Killian was still they dragged him to his feet again. His head lolled forward and Liam struggled harder when he didn't get his feet under him on his own. They dragged Killian’s limp body into a building and Liam stopped fighting, praying that they take him where they took Killian.
There was not much in the building in terms of decor. There was a desk in the room and a laptop. Killian was already half-standing half-hanging from his wrists in the middle of the room. His own hands are wrenched above his head like his brother’s but Liam hardly noticed. his attention fixed on Killian as he shook his head and struggled to get his feet back under him.
Liam’s throat went dry at the familiarity. He’d been here. He’d seen this. In the horrifyingly brilliant resolution of a live stream in Ops. Every time he watched that video he just wanted to reach through the screen. He told himself If he were there he’d have been able to stop it.
But now he’s here. And he can’t stop it.
He’s going to watch them kill his brother.
Again.
But this time there will be no mistake. No camera dying at just the wrong moment. No chance of Killian fighting his way home long after Liam had given up. Just the cold body of his brother 10 feet away where he can’t even reach him...
“Liam...” Killian’s voice broke into Liam’s thoughts and Liam looked up to see Killian’s bright eyes boring into his. “Stay here with me. Don’t make it worse in your head.”
Liam expected them to ask questions next, but they don’t. Most of the men vanished after the Jones brothers were chained up, clearly they’d known transport was going to be the hard part. Only a few remain, inside. one sits at the computer, Liam can see several more shadows passing by the door and he watches them move outside, memorizing the pattern until his focus is broken by a thud and a gasp.
“What no foreplay?” Killian asked when he could breathe again. “I thought we could play a name game or two, maybe do some trust falls.”
“Or I could cut your Achilles’ tendon and make you scream until your throat bleeds,” The man replied flatly. Not familiar, no distinguishable accent.
“Leave him alone,” Liam said quietly, “and tell us what the hell you want from us.” He didn’t hear anyone come up behind him, only felt the air rush from his lungs as someone hit him hard from behind. Blows rained down quickly after that, though he couldn’t see his attacker after a blow to the back of his head made his world flip upside down and sideways.
He knew what they were doing. Softening up. That’s what they called it. The questions would come later...
_____
Tagging the ‘competitors’ and the peanut gallery! @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl@icecubelotr44@hollyethecurious @killian-whump @cocohook38
If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list aka the peanut gallery! let me know
Whumpetition / @badthingshappenbingo prompt #7: Forced to watch
Sequel to: #6: tortured for information.
1. I know you’re in there 2. Buried Alive 3. Ambulance Ride 4. Sadistic Choice 5. Outnumbered 6. Tortured for information (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
_____
“No matter what you do to either of us, I am never giving you that code."
Liam promised. The promise was in his eyes, Killian had seen it, and what it had cost him to make that promise. It was unwise to crush an interrogator’s hope of valuable intel. Withstanding ‘questioning’ was a balance. A balance of resistance and allowing the questioner a glimmer of hope. That glimmer of hope kept you alive.
The promise was a gift for him. Perhaps a parting gift, he thought darkly, and there was something in the thought that he didn’t want to look at too closely. Something in the thought that hoped maybe the pain was finally over. One way or another.
The shackle popped open without warning, and he crumpled. His battered body dropped like a stone, unable to even summon the strength to land carefully, to try to avoid the worst of the burns and abrasions. He wasn’t even certain how he could have. He’d stopped evaluating his injuries long ago, stopped calculating the odds, trying to escape, trying to fight, even stopped talking. He’d no energy for any of it. Even the thought of escape sounded exhausting. He just wanted to sleep. He just wanted the pain to stop.
Fire licked at his wounds but he’d no energy left even to scream.
He’d tried to avoid screaming at the beginning. For Liam’s sake, mostly. It hadn’t lasted long. Now he had nothing left. Not even for screaming. He could hear a low gurgling groaning noise and it took him a moment to realize the noise was coming from him.
“Fine. Bring it.”
Between one blink and the next a shallow tub of water had been dragged into his view and he wondered, detached, if he had passed out for a moment or two. He glanced up at Liam for a moment and saw hell. Tears slipped silently down his face and some long crushed spark of life in Killian managed something that was almost anger.
He hated being used against Liam. Hated that Liam had to see this. Hated that he couldn’t spur his broken body to say something to alleviate his despair. There was a firm grip on the back of his neck and then he was looking down into the murky brown water. It wasn’t until the cold water closed in over his ears that he realized he hated one more thing.
He hated that he’d never get to say goodbye.
He held his breath instinctively, a small hint of defiance to the force on the back of his neck all he could manage. His arms were unbound, his legs were free. And one man’s hand on the back of his neck was heavy as an elephant. A few hours ago this would have been an opportunity. Now it felt like a death sentence.
It probably was.
The pressure on his chest increased, his body wanted to exhale. So desperately and it was all he could do to hold on to enough control to refuse the animal instinct to breathe. Maybe the man’s grip wasn’t as heavy as he’d thought, he struggled weakly for a moment to dislodge the hand, digging his fingernails into something up above. His grip was batted away like an irritating insect.
He heard screaming. He didn’t think it was his own this time. It couldn’t be, right? He felt foggy, like he had so many years ago when this mess had begun with a drugged bottle. They should have known better.
_____
The first time they shoved Killian’s head into the water it wasn’t truly fear of how long he’d be forced under that made Liam shake and curse and scream. It was fear that Killian wouldn’t even bother to hold his breath anymore. Liam screamed until his throat was raw, (as though it wasn't already) praying Killian could hear him under the water and hold on. When they pulled Killian free of the the water gasping for air, what felt like an eternity later, Liam felt as though he were the one struggling to breathe. But he was breathing. Killian was still breathing.
“Again,” someone said behind Liam, and Killian went down again.
“This is how he’s going to die you know?” the voice from behind him crooned. “Is it worth that? Your own brother? You’re really ready to watch him die?” Liam didn’t hear the rest. He was screaming Killian’s name again, because he’s not ready, how could he possibly be ready to watch his little brother die. Killian came gasping to the surface and Liam sagged against the chains again, his wrists in agony.
A light caught Liam’s eye and he glanced past Killian. A small green dot above the computer’s camera was… blinking at him?
Scarlet?
Liam tried not to stare, half-convinced it was a figment of his imagination but unable to not watch the light out of the corner of his eye. It could be Scarlet, it could be a trick. but he was pretty damn sure that that was Morse code blinking at him from that damn computer. The blinking stopped for a moment when their captor turned back to the computer and then resumed again. His eyes fixed on Killian, but his mind was on the blinking light in his peripheral vision. He tried to catch each letter as it came in with occasional pauses when someone else turns towards the computer.
E T O D I S C L O S E C S
Before Liam could see the call sign there was another splash and Killian was underwater again. Liam bit out a curse, tugging furiously at his chains in frustration.
Liam glanced back at the computer but he’d missed the call sign. It could be one of their captors messing with his head… making him think it was safe. (It’s what he would do…) The message repeated and Liam waited, holding his breath along with his brother, heart pounding, waiting for the call sign and five digit security code that would tell him who was really on the other side of the message.
S A F E T O D I S C L O S E C S K N A V E
His lungs burned and he he took an involuntary breath, horrified when the man still held Killian below the surface.
“You’re going to kill him!” Liam screamed. Killian had barely recovered from the last dunking and now- he forced himself to watch the blinking light out of the corner of his eye even as Killian’s struggles slowed.
“Not if you stop me!” the captor bit back.
1
Morse code had never seemed so slow…
7
“Your brother or your company, Captain?”
4
“No, please, please don’t do this.”
8
“It’s your choice, captain.”
9
ID confirmed.
“I’ll tell you!” Liam cried, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll tell you, just please, please don’t take him from me.”
The man just grinned. Killian was no longer fighting, his limbs sprawled useless and limp around him, the man still holding his head in the tub with a smile of glee. A tiny thought broke through the panic. A terrifying thought prompted by the smiling man holding his brother below the surface.
If Killian dies they lose everything. Their leverage, their chance of getting into the surface. If Killian dies they lose. And yet the man didn’t drag Killian from the water even as he repeated over and over that he would tell them anything, everything. Then something strange happened. A panicked enraged voice that was not his own echoed from behind him, “Damn it, Edmond! Let him up.”
Terror clawed at Liam’s heart. The man behind him, he wanted the access to the server. This Edmond, he just wanted Killian to die. Liam didn’t know why and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. He spun towards the man behind him.
“If he dies you get nothing,” Liam spat.
The man pulled out a gun but to Liam’s shock it was not pointed at him but behind him. “Now!”
Edmond released the pressure on Killian’s neck but the fight was over, Killian floated listless on the surface of the water for a moment before the man behind Liam stalked forward, glaring at Edmond, and grabbed a fistful of the back of Killian’s shirt. He tugged him from the tub, dropping him to the floor. He fell heavily, and Liam winced when he hit the floor. His skin had gone a dusty grey color and Liam could see the blue tinge to his lips from here.
“No-“ Liam whispered. “Let me save him,” he begged. “Please, Let me save him and you can have whatever you want.”
“Password first.”
He wanted to protest, some tiny still functioning logistical part of his mind warning him that once he gave up the code he’d have nothing left to offer, no way to ensure they’d let him help Killian. But his little brother was not breathing and the time for negotiations was past. He nodded and the man unshackled one if his hands so Liam could type into the computer. He typed all but the last two digits and then stopped. He couldn’t let himself be powerless. Not now. Not when Killian needed him so desperately.
“You get the last two when you free me. That’s the deal. You get your code, I get to save my brother.” He hoped the trembling in his muscles wasn’t evidenced in his voice. Their tormenter nodded and the men around the room came to alert, their weapons training on him as the cuffs came free. Liam nearly collapsed, putting his full weight on the wrong leg which exploded in agony, making bright spots dart across his eyes.
No, no, no, no. Don’t pass out. Pass out and Killian’s dead. He shook his head and caught himself, stumbling the distance between them and collapsing at Killian’s side.
Men were shouting at him for the code, waving guns but he ignored them all, gathering Killian up and pressing shaking fingers to his throat rejoicing for a moment when he thought he felt a pulse and despairing when he realized it was just his own pounding in his ears, in his fingers, behind his eyes.
Some small desperate part of him just wanted to pull Killian closer, as if he could still protect his little brother from all of this if he could just wrap Killian in his arms tight enough.
He’s gone.
“No…” Liam murmured, his voice cracking. “No!”
Two breaths, 30 compressions, he could do this. He’d been trained for this. He had to do this.
The room went very quiet for a moment as Liam laid Killian on his back. The only sound in the room was Liam’s harsh breathing as he pressed rhythmically on Killian’s chest. Breathe and press, breathe and press, he doesn’t have time to think about the men and their guns or what precautions Scarlet had put in place to make the code safe to disclose. He doesn’t even have time to beg his brother to wake up like his mind is repeating over and over and over… because Killian is blue, and nothing else matters but his next breath.
The deep gouges in his palm make every compression burn, and his arms are already exhausted and half numb from so long suspended over his head. What if I’m not using enough force, what if I’m not strong enough to keep his blood moving now. What if- His numb arms couldn’t judge the force anymore and he felt the grating of bones under his palms. Something cracked and Liam winced, but he didn’t stop. A bruised torso is nothing, a broken rib is survivable. Killian needed air and he needed blood flow and everything else can be fixed. Later. Once they’re out of here. Somehow.
Finally Killian shudders and Liam turns him onto his side as he vomits up water and bile. He is still coughing and choking when someone Liam didn’t bother to look up at has a gun aimed at Killian’s head demanding the final two letters of Liam’s code. He gives it up without protest, buying himself a few moments alone with Killian, holding him on his side and rubbing his back until most of the hacking coughing had subsided.
Killian was trembling when Liam pulled him up into his arms, holding him tight and pressing his lips to sopping wet hair. He wiped water and foam and other less than pleasant things from Killian’s lips with the sleeve of his shirt. It’s tattered and bloodstained, but it’s all he has.
Edmond was breathing down his neck, looking enraged and and he has no way to tell Killian about Scarlet’s message… What’s worse is that he’s not certain it would have stopped him if the message had failed the ID check.
“What did you do?” Killian croaked.
“I’m sorry, Killian. I couldn’t… I couldn’t let them kill you.”
After everything he’d suffered today, to hear Liam tell him it was all for nothing- Killian seemed to shrink even smaller in his arms.
"But Alice..." he whimpered. Voice small and rough.
Liam thought Killian would pull away then but he didn’t. He fell against Liam, shaking even harder. Liam pulled Killian closer, his grip firm and desperate as Killian’s shoulders shook with silent sobs. He wanted more than anything to tell Killian about Scarlet’s message. Edmond is watching too closely. “Listen to me-“ Liam said quietly, pressing his cheek to the top of Killian’s head not taking his eyes from Edmond. “Alice is going to be fine, alright. Trust me. Killian, please. Please, trust me.”
Edmond’s expression did not change. Perhaps he thought it to be mere platitudes. Perhaps he just hated Killian so much it didn’t matter to him whether the code was good or not. In fact Edmond was the only one not gathered around the computer with that air of excitement. He didn’t give a damn about it. Not like the rest of them.
“I trust you, brother,” Killian whispered.
Liam tightened his arms around Killian, his brain scrambling for logistics now that Killian was breathing again. One of several things would happen next. The first possibility was that someone on their team was more tech savvy than Scarlet and would see through the ploy. That or they already had some piece of information to compare to the server to ensure the information was good. If they discover it isn’t…
Unless it is. Liam really didn’t want to think about that possibility. The possibility that Scarlet’s call sign had been compromised and used to gain access to the server meant that not only had Liam given up everything. It meant no one was coming...
Either way, these men were about to find the Jones brothers to be thoroughly disposable. He could fight, he would try, but he was unarmed and wounded and Killian could barely breathe, much less fight. But Scarlet must have known, wouldn’t have offered this exit strategy if backup wasn’t close. Right?
The man who seemed to be in charge turned and walked towards Liam his hand moving to the handgun on his hip then pointing it at Liam’s head._____
Tagging the ‘competitors’ and the peanut gallery! @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl@icecubelotr44@hollyethecurious @killian-whump @cocohook38
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1. I know you’re in there (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
Killian blinked. And blinked again.
The room was dark.
No more glow of firelight, no more eerie green of the river. Just dark.
He took a deep breath and tried to sit up, slamming his head on something before he'd managed to even partially sit up. Bright spots flashed in his vision and the unneeded breaths came quicker. He'd hear the rushing of his pulse in his ears if he still had one. He didn't, of course, so there was nothing but the oppressive silence. He tried to move his left arm but agony lanced down from a dislocated shoulder and it was a moment before the hot tendrils in his shoulder calmed enough for him to consider another movement. He tried his right arm experimentally. His back protested feebly but without the blinding pain he'd been expecting. He reached out tentatively, his fingers finding something smooth and cold.
His breath caught, panic rising up from somewhere in the pit of his stomach. Killian clenched his eyes tightly, but he could feel it. The darkness pressed on him even so, a heavy mask over his eyelids.
"HADES!" he screamed. His own voice assaulted him, too loud in the tiny space. "No," he whispered. "Please, no." He shifted, wood scraping against barely healed abrasions on his back as he shifted, kicking at the walls with thuds that reverberated through his bones.
"I warned you, Captain." The voice came from somewhere above, muffled but clear enough to make out if he held his breath. For the first time Killian was relieved to hear even that voice. Something... anything to break into the darkness.
"Hades, please-"
"You've used up all your chances. You cannot die again. But your hope will. However many decades, centuries it may take, your hope dies here. Your mind will rot even if your body cannot, until you are a husk of the man you once were. Feel free to go mad."
"HADES!"
"I presume you are screaming by now," the voice continued, tone bored. "Though admittedly I can't actually tell. You wouldn't believe how disruptive the screaming was before I developed the means to trap even your voices below. Rest in peace, Captain."
He could hear the footsteps fading away into nothingness.
It didn't matter.
He screamed.
The gravestone was monolithic. It overshadowed anything else in the cemetery, and would have been obvious to Liam even if he hadn't occasionally searched for his brother's name among the stone over the past few centuries. It was neither tipped nor cracked.
He's here. His little brother had finally come.
Liam smiled a bit in spite of himself. He shouldn't want Killian here. Hades' cruelty was not to be underestimated. But after centuries he permitted the small selfishness of forbidden hope. Killian was here.
But Hope turned rapidly to nervousness. To worry. To fear.
The gravestone was still upright, but Killian was nowhere in town. He searched. Did everything short of ask Hades himself, drawing Hades attention to Killian even now something he was unwilling to risk. But the longer he searched without success the more he feared Hades had already taken an interest in Killian.
Liam was not unfamiliar with the way the lord of the underworld welcomed his guests, but Hades dungeons were empty. He returned to the stone marker after two days to ensure that it remained upright, worry and confusion warring in his heart.
"Where the devil are you, little brother?" he murmured out loud. Wet leaves had accumulated on the top of the stone and he reached out to brush them away, fingers tracing his brother's name for a moment. "I've missed you." Liam sighed and sat on the grass. It wasn't quite green here, the red hue of the place ensured nothing looked quite healthy but it was as good a place as any to try to gather his thoughts. He'd avoided fear by a simple stubborn focus on the practical. To searching every inch of the town right down to the very dungeons themselves called in every favor he had accumulated in 200 years. Nothing.
Killian wasn't here. So why did the gravestone say he was?
Liam's hand fell from the stone, exhaustion weighing heavily on him.
"What has he done to you, little brother, that blue git"
"Well that's just rude." Liam jumped, scrambling to his feet to face Hades. "What have I ever done to warrant such a poor opinion of me? Have I not always kept up my end of the bargain?"
Liam steadied himself for a moment before responding, clasping his hands firmly behind his back to hide the trembling. "Lord Hades-"
"Oh now you're polite."
"Where is he?"
"What makes you think I know?"
"You're the lord of this place, surely you know all the comings and goings?" Liam kept his voice calm and conversational, a little flattery never hurt. He was sorely disappointed though when Hades just laughed.
"Perhaps little brother doesn't want to see you?" Hades offered. "It's been... Gee, hundreds of years up there. That's a lot of time for things to change. For secrets to be uncovered?"
Liam stiffened. "No one knew-"
"No one up there knew."
Hades vanished and Liam turned, waiting for him to reappear in his typical dramatic fashion but the graveyard remained still and empty.
Was it possible? That Killian had found out what he'd done to that crew and simply wanted nothing to do with him? It would mean Killian was safe, and despite the ache in his heart for a moment he desperately wanted to believe it. Killian just needed time, he was fine he just... Liam didn't realize he was pacing until he tripped on a fallen branch he'd been too caught up in his head to notice. He landed with a jolt on the hard earth below the stone and the shock snapped him out of his head in a moment. No. That was impossible. He pushed himself up out of the dirt and looked up at Killian's name on the stone.
"If you were that angry with me you'd have found me the moment you arrived to tell me off, wouldn't you?" He chuckled dryly and without real amusement. "Why didn't you find me?" He pushed himself into a seated position one leg bent and an arm resting on it as he looked up at the marker. "It's been bothering me since I first found this bloody stone. If you could have found me why did I have to find out from granite that you'd arrived." Fear curled in a tight ball in his stomach making him feel a little sick. "Because you couldn't. Gods little brother I don't know what he's done but-" he trailed off for a moment then stood, brushing the dirt from his pants. "I will find you, Killian. I swear it."
"He's watching me," Liam said with a sigh, dropping to sit against a tree near the headstone after another fruitless day. It had been a week. A week since the stone arrived and nothing. Absolutely nothing to indicate that Killian was really here. Except that Hades was watching. "He's ignored my existence for about a hundred and fifty years now. And now suddenly he's dropping by the bar for drinks and just watching-" Liam sighed, reaching for the single flower that bloomed on his brother's grave. If Hades noticed it he would rip it out without question. Flowers cropped up occasionally in the underworld. But not often and Hades took great pleasure in finding their source and obliterating it utterly. He should probably pluck it himself, to avoid Hades ire. But he couldn't. There was so little of what could honestly be called hope in his heart. Hadn't been for so long. He didn't think the feeble desperate hope he clung to of finding Killian again would have been enough to cause that flower to bloom.
He couldn't pluck it out. Even if it enraged Hades one day. Because the only hope he had left now was that perhaps Killian was yet unbroken, wherever he was, that perhaps that flower was his. Liam's hope was a fragile thing, but seeing the stone whole and uncracked, the bright petals of that tiny flower it gave him the closest thing he'd felt to hope in a very long time. It brought him back to this place, night after night, to lean against the tree and keep watch over the stone. So long as it was uncracked, so long as that flower bloomed, there was a chance.
"Hold on Killian," Liam murmured, "please don't give up. Whatever he's done, whatever he's doing to you-" He swallowed hard, biting off the tremulous tone. "I know Hades. I know his malevolence and I know his temper. I still have the scars from my first years here. The thought of you going through that alone, somewhere, Killian, I'm so sorry. I'm trying-" He shook his head in frustration. "I was supposed to keep you safe little brother, I tried to keep you safe. Sold a part of my soul to do it and never once regretted the bargain. But how am I supposed to protect you know when I can't even find you?" He shoved himself to his feet, resuming the pacing that was gradually wearing away at the grass around Killian's stone.
"Liam?" The voice was soft but he jumped anyway, turning on the woman who'd approached with a startled sound. "Bloody hell, Milah, what are you doing here. I thought you said you didn't want to see it-"
"I don't," she grumbled, eying the marker like it had personally offended her. "I wanted the first thing I see of him after all this time to be him. Not... that. It's gaudy isn't it. Anyway, this couldn't wait until morning and I wasn't sure if you were coming home tonight."
"What? Do we have something?"
Milah smiled, "We have guests."
"Guests?"
"From topside."
Liam's jaw fell open and he stopped the pacing he hadn't realized he'd resumed. "You mean-"
"They're alive. And they're here for him."
"Do you trust them?"
"Not sure yet," Milah replied, crouching at the foot of the stone and brushing her hands across the grass. "Pretty aren't they?"
Liam nodded distractedly, then turned to see what she was looking at. Three more tiny flowers graced the spot at the base of the stone.
Liam thought he would approve of anyone who came in search of his little brother in a place like this. Truly he did. But when some of their guests turned out to be Milah's former husband and the woman who killed his little brother... things got terse.
If terse could be an accurate description of Milah very nearly punching her husband in the face before he could vanish and Liam glaring at Emma with a look that could have frozen a volcano in its tracks. A volcano maybe. But not Emma Swan.
He didn't like her. Not one bit.
Except she was absolutely determined to get Killian out of here, so he supposed he could tolerate that. Unfortunately "get Killian out" was about as much of a plan as this group had formulated and Liam shoved his frustration down deeper. What kind of a bloody rescue mission had no-
"So why don't we just kick Hades' ass until he tells us-" she was saying and Liam damn near rolled his eyes at her. Milah laughed though.
"I like her," Milah whispered under her breath to Liam who didn't dignify it with a response.
"Hades is a god. Has power in this place, potentially has my little brother trapped somewhere and we have no idea where that is. And your plan... is to punch him?"
"He has a very punchable face Liam, you must admit," Milah put in.
"So we find him," Emma said, glancing at a tall burnette who had very little to say so far except to introduce herself as Regina and suggest that 'your majesty' would be an acceptable way to address her. Liam didn't find this particularly amusing either. "There's got to be some way to locate him right, like a locator spell?"
"We'd need something that was his."
"Emma nodded, pulling a chain from under her shirt with a ring dangling from it. Liam's eyebrows went up but he didn't spare much notice for it. At least until it began to glow, hovered for a moment then shot towards him like a bullet, hitting him hard enough in the chest that he'd surely bruise. It fell limp into his hand and Emma's eyes widened.
"Oh-" she whispered in a tone of disappointment. "Right-"
Liam glanced down at the ring and his eyes widened. "How did you get this?"
"Killian gave it to me. He said it-"
Liam glowered at her. "I know what he said. Though it seems you were not the one who needed protecting-"
Milah elbowed him hard in the ribs as Emma drew herself to her full height to glare at him.
"Give it back," Emma said sternly. Liam glanced at her, his hand tightening on the ring. "No. Killian gave it to me, you have no right-"
"I think you gave up the right to his property when you put a sword though his heart." Emma folded in on herself in an instant and Liam almost regretted his bluntness.
"Alright, that's about enough," broke in a man with light brown hair and a look almost cold enough to match Liam's own. The petite burnette next to him had stepped forward with fire in her eyes and Liam wasn't entirely certain what she'd have done if her husband hadn't taken her arm. "Everyone calm down. This is not helping. Liam, she tried to save his life. It went sideways. If you wish to discuss the details later we can but tearing at us, isn't helping your brother. Give her back the ring, or get out of our way."
The two men sized each other up for a moment before Liam nodded. He was right. They needed to find Killian first. Everything else was secondary. Reluctantly he handed Emma back his old ring and she took it gratefully, turning back to Regina without looking at him.
"There has to be something else?"
"Alright well if we could see something of where he is it would help. I'm not... much for scrying normally but in this case, perhaps."
"Yes," Emma said excitedly, "if we could see where he was we could narrow down-"
"I don't exactly have a magic mirror down here and using one of Hades' is risky. He could be watching." Regina pondered for a moment and then walked over to Emma. "Close your eyes, you just became a mirror."
Emma's eyebrows furrowed but she complied closing her eyes. After a moment Emma blinked. "I don't see anything."
Liam held back a heavy sigh thinking that returning to the search of the tunnels would be a better use of his time.
"No, I mean I don't see anything." Liam glanced up at her then, her eyes were out of focus and wide, her pupils dilated. She looked several shades paler than she had been a moment earlier. Her eyes came back into focus, darting around the room uncertainly. "I didn't see anything? What does that mean? It doesn't mean he's-"
Without even waiting for her to finish Liam turned and bolted out the door. There was a delay as the people inside decided whether to follow but by the time he heard the door slam open again he was nearly two blocks down the street. He heard Milah calling his name but didn't slow down. Not even for her. By the time the cemetery came into sight he was breathing hard. He could stop it if he focused. He hadn't needed breeath for centuries now, but unless he was paying attention the habits of life kept a tight grasp even here.
He stopped abruptly, nearly stumbling at the sight before him. The stone remained upright, not cracked as he'd feared when Emma had been unable to see Killian's surroundings, but still he stood frozen in place. The grave which had had only a few small flowers mere hours ago was not host to dozens of vibrant blooms.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Milah said softly from behind him. She must have followed more quickly because the rest of the group was still a ways behind.
"I don't know."
"Does it mean he's okay? Somewhere?"
"I- I don't know."
Emma and her family had caught up and were looking at the stone uncomfortably, paying no heed to the flowers at all. Which made sense. Seeing flowers on a grave isn't something that is startling anywhere but here.
"What is this?" Emma asked, stepping forward.
"It's not cracked," he murmured, not quite paying attention, his mind spinning.
"Why would it be cracked?"
"We all have one down here. If its cracked... it's not good."
"So it's not cracked means he's okay?" her voice was hopeful and Liam sighed.
"It means he's here."
"So why didn't I see anything?"
"Perhaps your magic didn't work?" Liam commented.
Regina stiffened, an annoyed expression on her face. "My magic is just fine, thank you."
Before Liam's eyes a new bud opened at the base of the stone and he knelt, fingers brushing the soft petals in confusion. Was it his own hope? Theirs? Why here, why only here? Suddenly a thought occurred to him that made his stomach clench in a sudden sickening nausea.
"No-" he whispered, momentarily paralyzed, then in a sudden desperate flush of energy the tore into the dirt at the base of the stone, ripping away flowers and dirt and sticks. His hands stung, the grit and pebbles and roots fought him as he tore them away and distantly he heard the voices of Emma and her family protesting in confusion. He ignored them. Barely six inches down his progress was stalled by smooth wood. "Gods, no-"
"Move." Emma's tone was that of an order, and she tugged on his arm. He shook her off and continued clawing at the dirt, more and more of the wood coming free. "MOVE!" she repeated angrily, but it was Milah's hand on his arm that made him pause.
"Let her help Liam," Milah whispered, her voice was shaky and her fingers gentle on his arm. Liam leaned back a little and Emma made a sharp sweeping motion with her arm. The dirt went flying, revealing most of a plain wooden casket. A quiet dread overtook the group and everyone went silent as Liam pryed at the top of the casket. It came open with the creak of wood and a sudden heartwrenching cry of pain and terror.
Killian shot upright, his eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down his cheeks at the onslaught of the light as he tried to slit them open to see. One eye was completely swollen shut and his skin was peppered with bruises and lacerations in varying shades of blue purple and yellow. The evidence of old wounds healing only made Liam feel more sick. The partially healed bruises were doubtless Hades', the others he must have acquired trying to fight his way from below.
Despite his injuries Killian clambered violently, shoving at the top of the casket that he couldn't see until it fell with a thud next to the box. Liam dodged a flailing hand, catching Killian's shoulder as he struggled to drag himself from the box and stumbled, muscles incapable of holding him up. Liam helped Killian out, stumbling himself to keep up with Killian's erratic movements that landed them both crumpled on the ground a few feet from the box.
"I've got you," Liam murmured, "you're safe now."
"Is he?"
Liam tightened his grip on Killian's arm, his little brother was trembling, the sound of Hades voice enough to make him curl in on himself.
"Please don't put me back- please-" Killian's voice was scratchy and rough and Hades laughed at the plea. Liam moved to stand, to place himself between Killian and Hades but Emma beat him to it, moving between both of them and the lord or the underworld. Something uncomfortably like respect came unwillingly into his mind as Liam saw the defiant posture she took.
"You're not going to touch him," she hissed.
Hades laughed and Killian struggled to stand, managing only a spasmodic jerk that brought him back to the dirt with a grunt that might have been Emma's name. "I didn't have to touch him," Hades drawled. "He's been right there," Hades eyes slipped past Emma and met Liam's with an amused look "the whole time."
"You've had your fun," Liam said tersely, trying unsuccessfully to keep his voice calm. "Leave him be."
"Oh, I don't plan on hurting him anymore," Hades said with a smile. "He's going to get back in that box all on his own."
"Why the hell would he do that?" Emma shot back.
"It's Emma, right?" Hades asked conversationally. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma. But really, you must keep a closer eye on your children."
Hades vanished in a plume of smoke and Emma went white, looking around in a sudden panic. "Oh God, Henry- where is- He was with us at the bar, I thought-"
"Go-" Killian croaked, his head was raised towards her voice but his eyes were still clenched shut tightly, tears streaming down. "Go-"
Emma hesitated for only a moment before she nodded, whispering a weak "I'm sorry-" before taking off at a dead sprint in the direction they'd come from while Regina vanished without a word. The other two, David, and the petite woman whose name Liam could not remember, hesitated for a moment their eyes moving back and forth between where Killian was crumpled in Liam's lap and the direction Emma had taken.
"I've got him," Liam said quietly. "Find the boy."
David nodded gratefully and they followed Emma, leaving Liam alone with his brother. Killian tried to stand again, but his muscles wouldn't obey his commands, they shook, collapsing under him with each attempt as Liam did his best to calm him.
"Henry- they shouldn't be here. They shouldn't have come. They shouldn't-"
"Shh, Killian," Liam rubbed his back gently, "We'll find him." Killian shook his head, fighting Liam's grip like a madman. "Killian, stop this," Liam ordered, a tone he hadn't used in centuries coming back naturally in his desperation. "You just got out of a coffin for gods sake, give yourself a moment. Give me a bloody moment-" That tone had once kept a small boy from getting into fights he could not win but it seemed unable to penetrate Killian's panic now. Killian struggled to his feet again, Liam rising in an attempt to support him before... too late. Killian took a step, let out a gasping cry of pain and fell unmoving to the dirt.
As it turns out I’m bad at fixing. Tagging the ‘competitors’ @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl @icecubelotr44 @hollyethecurious and the peanut gallery @killian-whump
1. I know you’re in there 2. Buried Alive 3. Ambulance Ride (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
Liam sent Milah ahead of him, to prepare the back apartment and find bandages. He didn't trust any of the crew from above. Anyone who thought it wise to bring a child into the underworld was not someone Liam would assume had good judgement. He assessed the damage briefly. Killian's shoulder was dislocated badly, to start. It would need to be set but he couldn't do it on his own while Killian was unresponsive. There was so much, so much to patch up. He shook his head. Better to get Killian over his shoulders now while it couldn't hurt him then to hesitate and make him take the trek back conscious, He made it halfway back to the bar when David came jogging up, his face terse in a way that indicated bad news.
He slowed when he saw Liam, "You got him?"
"Aye." Liam nodded, not slowing. "The boy?"
David shook his head, jaw clenching. "He wasn't at the bar. He might have wandered off but-"
Liam shook his head. "This is no place for a child."
"This is no place for any of us-" David started and Liam stiffened, tightening his grip on Killian.
"Then why are you here?"
"For Emma. And..." David sighed, glancing up at Killian's limp form. "Maybe he's grown on me a little."
"You intend to take him with you?"
"That's why we're here."
"And you have no plan for getting him out of here-"
"We're doing the best we can." David retorted, his tone defensive and Liam scoffed.
"The best you can got him here in the first place, pardon me if I'm unimpressed."
Now it was David's turn to stiffen. "What the hell is your problem?"
"You can't be serious?" Liam's eyebrows went up. "My little brother was tortured then trapped in a coffin underground for a week, maybe longer. And now, Hades is going to use a child you brought here to maintain his power over all of us. That is my problem. If you were not here he could move on, not be used as currency to extradite a bunch of royals from the mess they made."
"Killian was right. You can be an ass. He didn't mention you were so self-righteous."
"He's my little brother," Liam made a little motion that might have been a shrug if he hadn't been carrying Killian over his shoulders. "I am what I need to be to keep him safe."
David was quiet a moment as they approached the bar. He paused as he reached the door, one hand on the handle but not opening it.
"She loves him too, Liam" David said after a moment. "Don't be cruel." David didn't wait for an answer before he opened the door, holding it open for Liam to carry Killian through.
Emma looked up immediately, meeting his eyes for a split second before turning her attention to Killian. Her eyes were red from crying and she looked lost. Liam carried Killian into the back apartment and Emma and David helped get him down from Liam's shoulders without jarring him.
"His shoulder needs to be set," Liam commented, "preferably before he wakes." Milah had gathered all they needed but stayed seated in a chair next to the window, her eyes distant. Liam wanted to go to her but Killian needed him now. The more they could patch him up before he woke the less agonizing it would be. "I can do it but I'll need someone to hold him-"
Emma shook her head. "Let me-" Her hand began to glow and she gently pressed it to his shoulder first then began to touch each of the wounds she could see. Bruises faded before his eyes and abrasions knitted together as she systematically found and mended all the evidence of Hades attention. Tears slipped down her face when she reached his hand, battered and bloody from trying to escape for so long. She kissed it softly when it was mended and Liam's gaze on her softened. He lifted Killian to a sitting position as she made her way to his back where the shredded leather of his jacket was a grotesque preamble to what lay beneath. Her magic left behind only pale scars, but they were light, barely noticeable next to the ones which Killian had carried for centuries.
When she was finished Liam laid Killian back on the cot, where his rest finally looked peaceful. "Should we wake him?" Liam asked cautiously.
"Let him sleep," Emma murmured. "He's been through enough. He's earned a decent night's sleep."
"I'm sorry about your son, Emma."
Emma swallowed hard. "We're going to find him. Do you think..." Emma paused swallowing again her breath shaky. "Do you think Hades is hurting him?" Liam winced. He was not prepared for this. When he told her no, though, it was the truth. "After all he did to Killian, you don't think-" her voice was hopeful, but she was watching him intently as though she could see a lie on his face.
"He's waited centuries to get his claws into my brother. Your son, he's a way to get Killian back. He won't risk that."
"Why does he want Killian to suffer like this?"
Liam glanced at the ground with a sigh. "Hades expected to get Killian years ago. Cheating death makes Hades ... ornery."
Emma nodded. She took Killian's hand in hers again for a moment then sighed. "I should get back to Regina, look for some way-"
"What about how you found Killian. I know this place, if you could describe a location perhaps, perhaps I could help."
"We tried. Hades must have figured out how we found Killian. He's blocking us now." Liam nodded then stood, making his way over to a desk, small and tidy in the corner of the room. Milah didn't look away from the window as he opened a drawer next to her and pulled out a stack of papers.
"What are they?" Emma asked.
"Maps."
"Of what?"
"Everything." Liam shuffled through them and pulled out one in particular. "There's a system of tunnels below. He has... cells there where.." Liam trailed off. "It might be a good place to start looking. But one of us will need to come with you. Only the dead can open the passage."
"I'm going." Milah said, her tone allowing no argument.
Liam raised his brow, "Perhaps you should watch over Killian, I know those tunnels-"
"I'm going," she repeated. "I'm going to help find my grandson."
Liam gaped at her for a moment, trying to work out the logic of what he'd just heard. "Your grandson-" he stammered.
Milah smiled half-heartedly. "I looked like that didn't I?" she asked Emma.
"Pretty damn close," Emma replied. "Thank you, Milah."
Milah stood, gathering up the maps. "We should go. Tonight. Now. Before Hades gets bored."
Emma nodded and stood as well glancing down at Killian's sleeping form. "If I wake him he won't be able to sleep."
"Likely not," Liam replied.
"Tell him I'm sorry, if he wakes before I return."
Liam nodded "Hurry Emma. It does not take long for Hades to get bored."
_____
Liam heard arguing from outside the apartment. Apparently some of the woman's family objected to her plan to go alone, with only Milah as backup. It was the only way, though, and how any of them thought that an entire Royal family could march through the tunnels without being noticed was nonsense.
She must have convinced them, though, because in short order the raised voices quieted replaced by low murmuring and the clinking of glasses. Apparently someone was helping themselves to his stock. The back apartment was small, the cot only big enough for one and a small chair next to his desk the only other seating. Liam laid his head down on the desk for a moment. He hadn't slept much for over a week and he just needed a moment-
The next thing he knew he was bolting upright to the sound of screaming. He drew his blade instantly, eyes darting about the room. The door from the bar slammed inwards and David led the charge, with Snow and Regina looking tousled but similarly armed a step behind him. They lowered their weapons almost instantly as Liam continued to scan for the danger.
The screaming faded to choked sobs and Liam's stomach dropped, turning from the danger he now realized was not coming to face the cot. Killian was still asleep, sobbing and trembling, curled in on himself in the cot.
"I have matches behind the bar," Liam ordered, not caring who followed the instruction. "Bring every lamp you can find." He sank next to Killian, a hand gentle on his shoulder. "Killian open your eyes. I've got you little brother, open your eyes." By the time Liam had coaxed Killian into wakefulness the room was glowing with the flickering light of a half dozen lamps.
"Liam?"
"I'm here. You're alright. I've got you."
The trembling grew worse but his cheeks flushed with shame. "I'm sorry-"
"You've nothing to apologize for." Liam rubbed Killian's back gently until the trembling abated, watching as Killian's eyes flicked from lamp to lamp.
"I could hear you. Below. When you-" Killian's voice still shook. "I think it's the only reason I did not go mad. Hearing you. Knowing that there was still something there, beyond the black. Gods, brother, I didn't think I was ever getting out of that box."
"A temporary respite," Hades voice dripped malace and Liam spun, Hades lounged against the wall, watching them with gleeful eyes. Where are your lovers, captain?"
Killian paled, his eyes darting around the room.
Liam stood, ignoring the smirk in Hades' eyes. "They had things to discuss," he lied smoothly, "and thought a walk might ease the tension."
"Pity, I should like them to have seen this."
"Seen what?" Killian retorted.
"Seen you return to your coffin of course." Everything went dark for a moment then Killian stumbled, nearly toppling back into the gaping hole Hades had dragged them to the edge of. Liam grabbed his arm, steadying him and Killian scrambled backwards, putting some distance between himself and the coffin.
"No-" Killian whispered.
"No?" Hades eyes widened as though in shock. "I expected better of you captain, when the life of a child depends on you. Are you a coward?"
"Where is Henry?" Killian asked tremulously. It made Liam sick to hear Killian like this. How many times had he begged his little brother to control his temper. Now he'd give anything to see something of the old spark in Killian's eyes.
"Henry is hanging, rather precariously I might add, over the river of lost souls. Waiting, with some anticipation to learn if he will be taking a swim tonight."
"No!"
"Oh yes. But you can save him. All you have to do..." Hades waved dismissively at the gaping hole.
"I'll go," Liam said instantly, "I'll go below in his stead. Let the boy go, leave Killian be and you can have me instead-"
"I want him," Hades hissed.
"Surely we can come up with some kind of arrangement," Liam askes, "Lord Hades, surely-"
"Not. This. Time."
Killian was trembling again, just enough that Liam could feel it when he pressed closer to him. "You'll let the boy go?" Killian asked, "If I do as you wish, you'll let him and his family return home?"
"Well aren't you clever. Now all I said is that I wouldn't throw him in the river. But ... I'm feeling generous. You return below and I let them go home. Do we have a deal?"
"How do I know I can trust you to keep your en-"
Hades' hair flared bright for a moment and a flash of anger erupted over his features only to be replaced by calmness almost immediately. "Liam. Tell your brother if I keep my deals." Liam shook his head minutely and Hades eyes narrowed. "Tell him or I will."
"He … he does, Killian." It made him sick to say it but the rage hiding behind Hades' eyes made Liam break out in a cold sweat. If he aggravated Hades now they might just end up in the river. "He keeps his deals. But-"
"I'll do it." Killian's voice came out rough and likely quite a bit quieter than he wanted.
"No," Liam tried to interrupt. Hades shot him a look and suddenly there was fabric stuffed in his mouth.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to interrupt." Hades chastised. Killian sagged minutely as he approached the box and Liam stumbled to Killian's side, ripping the cloth from his mouth.
"You don't have to do this-" Liam whispered.
"I do." The words were barely audible, little more than a shaky breath as Killian stepped into the box. Liam's hand gripped Killian's forearm like a vice and Killian looked at him, confused and distant, as though some part of him was already gone.
"He really does," Hades pointed out in a helpful tone. "And if you don't let him do this, the child is gone. But there is one way you can help him."
Liam looked up, meeting Hades eyes and finding no comfort there.
"Close the box." Hades said with a grin. Liam's eyes widened in horror. "Close the box or no deal."
"I can't-" Liam whispered turning away from Hades to look at Killian. He looked pale and frightened and so young. Gods Killian was hundreds of years old and when Liam looked at him it was as though looking into the face of a frightened teenager, half defiance and half terror and Liam just wanted to make it stop. The top of the coffin was still on the ground, the underside streaked with rust colored stains that Liam did not want to think about.
"No," Liam begged. He spun on Hades, the practiced motion of placing himself between Killian and the enemy of little use here. "Please, take me. Lord Hades, Killin isn't the reason you-"
Hades interrupted with a laugh. "Allow me to assist you," with a flick of his fingers the top of the box was lifted to the air and settled down over the box leaving only Killian's head exposed. Killian winced visibly, his chest rising and falling in something rapidly approaching panic. "Close the box, Captain." Hades repeated, his voice suddenly low and dangerous. "The boy has only moments, and you waste them."
"I can't," Liam shook his head, kneeling next to the box, the words for Killian now as he turned his back on Hades. "Killian I can't do this, I won't-"
Killian swallowed hard, quiet a moment before he reached and took Liam's hand. "If I let any harm come to the boy when I could have stopped it," Killian said quietly. "she'd never forgive me." Liam shook his head violently.
He felt for the boy, truly, and he despised Hades for using a child as a tool like this but this was Killian. This was the boy he had raised, the boy he had tried and failed to protect so many times. The boy he'd kept safe from the terrors of the dark with oil lamps when he could manage it and with distraction when he couldn't. And now to lock Killian back in the dark again, to trap Killian in his childhood terrors that he'd only just escaped from. He remembered the way Killian had clung to him when he woke, screaming, only minutes ago. He'd told his little brother he was safe now, held him until the shaking stopped and told him he'd keep him safe now. ""Liam-" Killian's voice was unsteady but there was something in his eyes that grabbed Liam's attention and kept it. "Liam, if I let something happen to Henry I'd never forgive myself." Killian squeezed Liam's hand tightly, "And I'd rather see your face than his before I go into the dark."
"This is all very sweet," Hades commented, tone bored, "but I tire of your stalling."
Liam squeezed Killian's hand once more and then rocked back, his hands trembling on the lid of the coffin. There was fear in Killian's eyes, but it wasn't just the darkness that scared him. There was a desperation that matched his own. Killian felt responsible for the boy, this Henry. The boy who was not his blood but who put a look on Killian's face that Liam had only ever seen in a mirror.
"I'll find a way," Liam whispered, "I won't abandon you here."
"I know." the look Killian offered him was not quite a smile, but it was an attempt.
The top of the coffin slid into place with a dull thud and Liam lowered his hands stiffly to his sides as he turned to face Hades.
"The boy?"
"Will be returned to his mother by morning. So long as Killian remains in his final resting place they will be permitted to leave this place but Captain?"
Liam looked up, trying to mask the hatred in his eyes.
"If that coffin opens so much as a crack, I will know. And if you try to free him once the boy is gone, it will be the river instead. For both of you."
Liam nodded, a mask of obedience centuries in the making slipping over his features to hide the rage. Hades vanished and Liam sank back down to his knees next to the coffin. It was quiet.
What if Killian had changed his mind? What if he was crying out for help. What if it was too much.
What if this broke him?
He wanted to fling the top open, wanted to pull Killian free. Liam rested his head against the wood.
"Stay strong, little brother," Liam murmured. "You're not alone."
_____
As it turns out I’m STILL bad at fixing. Tagging the ‘competitors’ @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl @icecubelotr44@hollyethecurious and the peanut gallery @killian-whump @cocohook38
If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list aka the peanut gallery! let me know
Whumpetition / @badthingshappenbingo prompt #8: Near death experience.
So admittedly the last few chapters have all... kinda been a near death experience. But hey, gotta pick one of them might as well be the one where killian spends most of the chapter blue... (Continuation of the storyline that started in #5 outnumbered.)
1. I know you’re in there 2. Buried Alive 3. Ambulance Ride 4. Sadistic Choice 5. Outnumbered 6. Tortured for information 7: Forced to Watch (All these whumplets are also in a collection on FF )
The possibility that Scarlet’s call sign had been compromised and used to gain access to the server meant that not only had Liam given up everything. It meant no one was coming…Either way, these men were about to find the Jones brothers to be thoroughly disposable.
He could fight, he would try, but he was unarmed and wounded and Killian could barely breathe, much less fight. But Scarlet must have known, wouldn’t have offered this exit strategy if backup wasn’t close. Right? The man who seemed to be in charge turned and walked towards Liam, his hand moving to the handgun on his hip then pointing it at Liam’s head.
_____
“I’d like to say it has been a pleasure, Captain, but to be perfectly frank-“
“We had an agreement,” Edmond interrupted, a note of panic in his voice.
The man rolled his eyes. “You almost ruined everything.”
“We had an agreement!” he repeated, “and what the hell does it matter which one you kill first?”
The small measure of relief Liam has felt due to the interruption evaporated in an instant as the man shrugged in acknowledgement and shifted, the weapon now aimed at Killian. Before Liam could move there was a crash at the window and something came flying into the room.
Flashbang.
Liam wouldn’t have been fast enough if he hadn’t been expecting it (been desperately hoping for it.) He pressed Killian hard to his chest instantly, covering the ear not pressed to his chest with one hand and blocking Killian’s eyes with the other. He squeezed his own eyes shut and there was an explosion and then silence. His hearing came back slowly in a high pitched ringing and he opened his eyes, looking Killian over for further injury. He looked dazed and confused, barely holding onto consciousness probably, but no more so than before.
There were gunshots in his peripheral vision, or at least he thought there were from the muzzle flashes and he tried to drag Killian towards the wall, to safety. But Killian let out a cry that he couldn’t hear but could see and Liam nearly fell himself. His balance was utterly destroyed by the flashbang so he settled for lowering himself over Killian, shielding him from the action as best he could.
He knew he was hurting Killian, probably more than it was hurting him to stay huddled in this position, but all he could hear was a bright ringing in his ears and there was not a chance he was moving when there may still be gunfire.
It was possible that there's not a chance he moves at all... At least that's what he thought until someone tried to pull him off of Killian. He can't hear himself doing it but the sound he makes is definitely more of a growl than anything remotely resembling English.
He turned to fight, a desperate last stand that he has no energy for before coming face to face with Robin. Without conscious control his legs gave up the fight, collapsing beneath him the moment his mind processes the concept of help. Robin must have caught him and helped lower him to the ground because there was no sharp agony of landing hard on one of his many wounds. He leaned back against the tub of water that had nearly taken Killian from him as he and his brother are surrounded by familiar worried faces.
Robin was saying something, inaudible over the ringing in his ears, after a moment he seemed to realize that Liam couldn’t hear him and knelt down in front of him he put a hand on his shoulder squeezing gently and it communicated what Liam needed to hear so much better than words.
Once Liam calmed, Robin straightened, taking control of the scene and seeing that the handcuffed men were transported out of the Jones’ sight as quickly as possible. His stomach protested in disgust every time his eyes moved. Two sets of blood covered shackles were hanging from the ceiling and surrounding them blood, knives, and various tools that Robin did not want to know the purpose of. The room smelled of foul water and burned skin and thick metallic blood. Their clothes were a shredded and charred mess and Killian was drenched from the torso up. Robin’s eyes took in the tub Liam was leaning against and shuddered. Killian was awake, but had not yet spoken a word. His eyes unfocused and weary, not even responding except to tense up slightly when someone packed sterile gauze into his shoulder and wrapped it tightly. He turned his eyes back to Liam. Compared to his brother he had fared well. His hands and forearms were blood soaked from two deep gouges in his hands and his wrists torn to bleeding; likely from struggling against the shackles. John was wrapping them now and Liam let him, leaning back against the tub, eyes locked on Killian a few feet away. His skin was mottled with bruises and lacerations and he breathed shallowly; perhaps a broken rib or two. There were bloody handprints on his face and Robin wondered whose blood it was. The worst were the burns. His skin was riddled with them, blistered inflamed skin that Liam barely seemed to notice now in his exhaustion. A quick look at Killian revealed a matching set of the most severe burns and Robin glanced away again.
They needed help. This was so far beyond field first aid. The medevac team could not get here soon enough. He turned away for a moment to check on their location when there was a loud cry.
Robin's head turned sharply, the cry from Liam startling even as his ears were ringing from the previous shouting, from the sharp retorts of firearms. Killian was locked in rigor, his eyes rolling in his head, his brother near panicked in his stillness. And then Killian started to seize. Sharp, angry tremors that sent his limbs askew and sent John and Alan into motion almost faster than Robin could process.
Liam stared, his vision narrowing to the odd way his brother's bangs fell across his forehead, the beads of water shaking loose as Killian spasmed. Liam couldn't focus. Couldn't move. Couldn't help his brother. He knew what to do in the event of a seizure. He'd practiced it and learned it and excelled in all his training.
But nothing in the world could have prepared him for this. Not when the threat was neutralized and his men had secured the perimeter.
Liam's eyes roved the room then, the silence near deafening despite the calculated movements of the retrieval team. He should trust them to take care of Killian. He should slide backwards and give them room to work. Allow them to cushion Killian's head away from the concrete and let him ride out the seizure.
But he couldn't. He couldn't just sit back and do nothing. Liam could imagine that he could hear Killian's ribs grating together as the seizure went on for what felt like hours.
He could imagine that he could hear burns reopening and his little brother's cries of agony echoing through the room again.
He couldn't hear a damned thing and didn't know what was going on.
"Help him!" he shouted, reaching out and grabbing Robin by the sleeve. He ignored the blood that he left behind as he tried to shake the man in front of him into action. He didn't know why they weren't fixing his little brother.
Still, Killian continued to writhe on the cold floor.
Men came into the room then. Strangers who Liam didn't know. Hadn't vetted. Didn't trust. They had letters on their jackets, but his vision was swimming too much, his brain too rattled to make sense of them. He cowered over his brother, reaching out to tenderly, hesitantly, run his fingers through his brother's hair. The men moved around him, then, trying to pull him away as he scowled and glared and hissed. He must have looked a fright, but Robin was there, Robin understood, Robin was the one who carefully loosened Liam's fingers and pulled him back up to sit next to his brother as one of the strange men injected his brother with something.
The seizure stopped.
Liam's sense of everything was a bit fuzzy at the moment. He didn't know if time had passed in between whatever they gave him and when he stilled, but now he was unnaturally still, the rise and fall of his chest ragged but the only move that he made. More action around his brother, more things being done to Killian that Liam hadn't authorized, didn't understand, couldn't help. It seemed all at once like he was watching a horrible movie... watching that video... and swimming under water all at the same time.
He nearly missed the sting of an iv being inserted into him and he whipped around to protest.
And then things started to get really fuzzy and Liam started to glare at Robin. How dare he?
The last thing he saw before the drugs took him under was the bleary gaze of his little brother, looking for him
“Li’m!” Killian’s voice was slurred and confused and Robin spun on the medic who had sedated Liam.
“You bloody fool-“ Robin spat, and the medic looked taken aback.
“He was screaming,” the medic retorted, defensively. “It’s protocol to sedate a panicking-“
“Screw your protocols. His brother was seizing and he just got hit by a flashbang, he had no bloody clue he was yelling . He was just trying to find out if his brother was alright.”
Robin knelt next to Killian, who was now struggling against the medic’s grasp, trying to get to where Liam lay unresponsive a few feet away. “Killian, look at me, Killian!” It took him a few moments to get Killian’s attention. His eyes were glazed and glassy and he looked on the verge of passing out. “I’ve got Liam,”Robin said insistently. “Liam is going to be fine.”
Killian fell back, finally calming enough that someone could get an oxygen mask around his face. It was no more than a few seconds before he was lost to them too.
Robin spun on the medic, “you keep them together,” he ordered sternly. “You keep them together as much as humanly possible or you’ll have nothing but trouble when they come around.”
_____
She catches sight of Killian only for a moment. A whirl of activity around a stretcher straight off a damn helicopter and too many nurses doctors and paramedics around for her to see more than a glimpse. She almost wished she hadn’t. He looked… dead her mind whispered traitorously. He looked dead. His skin was mottled with dried blood in tones from deep brown to the bright red. It had been cleared away hastily in some places with disinfecting pads to make room for the web of wires and tubes connected to him and in those places the skin tone shone through greyish and ashy with blue undertones. His face was covered with an oxygen mask and when she pushed through for a moment she saw his lips were blue along with the tips of his fingers where they hung limp from the stretcher.
“Is he alive,” Emma begged to everyone and no one. “Please, is he-”
An orderly or maybe a nurse dragged her away and she almost struck out at them, but her knees have gone weak and before she knows what has happened she’s being somewhat forcefully lowered into a chair. It’s a different waiting room than she’d been in before. The sign above a large set of double doors read “Intensive Care Unit” and the doors were locked by keycard access.
“Where is he?”
The nurse nodded towards the doors. “I’m sorry but I can’t give any information about a patient without confirmation. Could you please give me your name.” It was said in a gentle but exasperated tone that made her think he’d asked her this before.
“Emma. Emma Jones. Killian is my husband. God, he was blue. He looked…” She swallowed hard and breathed in deeply. There was a fluttering in her stomach and she wasn’t sure if it were anxiety or perhaps the baby was starting to protest her stress levels. She took several long breaths before she opened her eyes again.
“Your husband is alive,” the nurse said quietly, taking her moment of silence to get a word in. “He wouldn’t have needed the mask if he were gone.”
Emma nodded and took another deep breath. “Is he going to be okay?”
The nurse hesitated. “The doctor will be out as soon as possible to give us an update. Until then, can I get you some water, maybe some crackers. I know it’s difficult but please… try to remain calm. It’s best you keep your blood pressure under control.”
Emma glanced sideways at him. She hadn’t thought she was really showing yet. Not much more than could be attributed to a fondness for onion rings and being too busy for the gym.
“How did you-”
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Was I… I just… I used to work the maternity ward. There’s a way some women start to carry themselves.” He’d turned a little red and Emma looked at him again. He was young, competent as far as she could tell but without the confidence of extended experience.
“No, it’s okay. You’re right. Water would be great. Just… please, tell me as soon as you know anything.”
The ICU was smaller than Emergency. Fewer patients, more medical staff and the background sound of machines of all varieties whenever the door opened.
The nurse brought her back her water and she took a sip, trying to calm her rocketing heart when something struck her like a bullet.
“Liam!”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh my God, Liam. Was Liam with him?”
“Liam?”
“Liam Jones, his brother, my brother in law. They were together, he told me they were together.” Panic rose again at the nurses confused expression. There was little that could part Liam from his brother when he was like this. They’d both been badly injured, Robin had told her that much but if Liam wasn’t here in the ICU where the hell had he gone? The nurse was typing away at his computer for a moment while all the worst case scenarios raced through her head. What if they couldn’t move him, what if he didn’t make it- what if-
“Liam Jones, admitted to the burn unit.”
“The burn unit?”
“Status fair but sedated.”
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t say for sure,” the nurse admitted, “but fair usually means good prognosis and conscious. If he’s in the burn unit he may have simply been sedated for pain control. Let me call down there and find out alright?” Emma nodded and he picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers. “Hi, I have a patient inquiry from family here in critical. You have a patient Liam Jones?”
It was quiet for a moment and the nurse nodded a few times and made noises of ascent but said nothing. Emma almost thought he was torturing her. Finally he hung up. “Liam has some fairy extensive second and third degree burns. His vitals are stable though so they took him to the burn unit rather than critical. They have him under medical sedation so they can evaluate and clean his injuries.”
Emma nodded, sighing in relief. “Anything about Killian?”
“You’ll be the first to know, I promise.”
After several glasses of water, two trips to the bathroom and a cup or two of decaf coffee someone finally emerged to speak with her.
“Mrs. Jones?”
“That’s me.”
“Follow me-”
“Is he alive?”
“Yes,” the doctor said, “we have a consultation room just through here, would you follow me?”
She did and once seated the doctor pulled out a clipboard. “Your husband is in critical condition. His injuries are... extensive and we’re still evaluating lung function. His vitals are unstable. Pulse, rate of respiration and blood oxygen in particular are proving difficult to stabilize. He is unconscious at the moment, but he’s been in and out and I’m sorry to say he’s in… quite a bit of pain.”
“Why haven’t you given him something? They kept his brother asleep to control the pai-”
“Yes, ma’am but painkillers and sedation can have deleterious effects on respiration which is our primary concern right now.”
“Can I see him?”
“Of course. I’d like to go over his charts before you see him, so you’re forewarned.”
“It’s bad. I’ve been forewarned.”
The doctor nodded. “As you wish.” Emma flinched at the phrase but if the doctor noted it he said nothing. If you’ll wait here for a moment I will have someone escort you to your husbands room.”
A moment turned out to be 73 seconds. Not that she was counting.
Back here in the ICU it was loud. A different kind of loud. Beeping. Alarms. The whoosh of respirators and near constant announcements over the PA.
Paging Dr. Green.
Emma sat up straighter. She didn’t know much but she knew color codes in hospitals usually meant something bad for someone. But it wasn’t blue. That one she knew too well.
A different nurse opened the door and offered her a small smile before gesturing that Emma should follow her. “What’s a code green?” she asked.
“Not our department, don’t worry.” Emma nodded and the nurse stopped in front of a room, opening the door for her. Killian was awake and the moment he saw her his eyes brightened and he shifted, reaching for the mask over his face.
Emma tried to smile. He was alive and that was all that mattered right?
“Leave it,” the doctor advised sternly coming into the room. Killian’s hand fell limp to his side, his face pained at even that small movement. Emma moved closer and took his hand squeezing it gently. The return pressure helped her breathe a little easier. “The mask is a high oxygen mix. We’re trying to keep you off the ventilator, but you’ll need to leave the mask on understand?”
Killian nodded and glanced at Emma. His complexion was ashen. Pale would have been an improvement over the dusty bluish grey she could see on his face and the tips of his fingers.
“Liam’s going to be fine,” she answered his unspoken question. “He’s in another department, sedated at the moment.” She couldn’t tell because of the mask but she thought he smiled a bit knowingly. Liam was not the most well behaved of patients. His patient records were probably plastered with notes recommending sedate first ask questions later. Killian’s eyes were heavy and Emma squeezed his hand again. “Sleep if you can, Killian, I’ll be here.” It didn’t take long before he was out again.
“His hand is cold.” Emma said quietly.
“Side effect of the IV drip and the transfusions. He lost a lot of volume. He had two units while being transferred here, one in surgery.” The doctor nodded to the blood bag on the other side of the bed. “This one is packed red blood cells. We’re doing our best to increase his tissue oxygenation and this may help his color as well.”
“What now?”
“There will be nurses in and out over the next hour. If the RBCs and high oxygen mix are improving his vitals then we may be able to just wait it out.”
“If not?”
“He’s not getting enough oxygen. That is the most critical problem right now and there are several possibilities for why. The first we’re addressing now. Controlling the bleeding, transfusions and getting the volume up with IV fluids. If those are controlled and we don’t see an improvement we’ll need to consider other possibilities for why his oxygen levels are so low.”
“Like what?”
“There were a few near drowning... events.” The doctor said, glancing at the intake chart and Emma tried to suppress a shudder. “At the moment his lungs sound clear but we’ll need to keep an eye on things, make sure there’s no further complications.”
“So we wait,” Emma asked, trying to smother her annoyance. It wasn’t his fault she hated waiting. Certainly wasn’t his fault she’d spent way too long waiting at Killian’s bedside unable to do anything but hold his hand and hope for the best.
Sometimes... she really hated his job.
_____
There was no clock in the room and her phone had died hours ago.
It was as bad as Vegas, just less bright colors and nowhere near as much fun. She nodded off several times, waking abruptly and uncomfortably to an awkward position in the armchair or another way too loud page over the PA.
Muttering a quiet, not particularly charitable grumble about whatever code greens were and the inability of hospitals to invest in decent chairs as she looked over Killian again and tried to convince herself that his color had improved a little.
The nurse came in a few minutes later, glancing at the computer for a moment and noting something on the chart.
“It’s not better is it?” Emma asked.
“Not yet.”
Emma peaked over the nurses shoulder, “how bad is it?”
The nurse pointed to a small device on Killian’s finger. “If you or I were to put it on our finger it would probably be up at around 98% or higher. Might go down a couple percent if you had just run up a few flights of stairs or done a cardio workout.”
“So that’s bad.”
“If he wasn’t on oxygen already, I’d be putting him on it immediately.”
“How long do we just wait?”
“Not much longer. Rounds are in about half an hour. We’ll give him until then. If there’s no improvement we’ll-” She was interrupted by the loud announcement paging Dr. Green again and Emma raised her eyebrows.
“Dr. Green isn’t very punctual is he? What does that mean?” The nurse hesitated and Emma sighed. “I’ll just look it up on my phone anyway,” she pointed out. The nurse didn’t need to know it had been dead for at least a few hours now.
“It’s really nothing to worry about. One of the other departments is having difficulty with a patient. Code green is a department lock down for a wandering patient. It’s no danger to you or your husband.”
The nurse was nearly out of the door before Emma shot upright again in sudden alarm and cursed. The nurse spun, looking to Killian first before turning perplexed eyes on her. “It’s the burn unit isn’t it?” Emma asked, tone exasperated. “The code green. It’s in the burn unit?” The nurse didn’t answer but her look of surprise was answer enough. Emma cursed again and stood, “Where’s the burn unit?”
_____
Two floors down and what felt like several miles of walking later she finds the sign for the burn unit, made superfluous by the distant sounds of raised voices and one Liam Jones sized figure leaning against the wall surrounded by nurses and orderlies. Speeding up to a dead sprint she broke into the circle, rudely pushing a nurse out of the way so she could get closer. Liam saw Emma and stumbled towards her. One of the nurses tried to take advantage of his distraction, stepping forward with a needle but Emma held up a hand to stop her and miraculously she did.
Liam looked at her desperately, garbling hoarse, mostly unintelligible, nonsense in which Emma identified the words “where is he?” only because she knew they were coming.
“He's fine, Liam," she told him. "Killian is fine." It was severely taxing most definitions of fine, but he was alive and not currently hurting, so it was close enough. He stumbled and she caught him, half way between a hug and simply supporting his weight because he couldn't manage it anymore.
His injuries weren’t as extensive as Killian's, that much was obvious even at first glance, but he almost looked worse. Killian was still asleep, he looked peaceful, like he wasn’t hurting, certainly wasn’t aggravating his injuries by trying to stumble down the hall making the entire ward think he’s a lunatic. Emma glanced at the nurse with her needle and wondered guiltily how many attempts to escape have been thwarted this way.
Normally, they’d probably have restrained him the first time but one look at his wrists explained why they hadn’t. They were wrapped tight in medical gauze and clearly no one had been able to stomach the idea of tying him down after what he’d been through.
In a few moments Emma was able to explain what was going on and stated, more than asked, that Liam would be coming to the ICU to see his brother immediately. It was less of a fight than she was expecting and her rage cooled. They hadn’t been trying to hurt him or keep him away from his brother. They simply hadn’t been able to understand his drug addled ramblings and were trying to keep him from hurting himself. Under normal circumstances the sedative likely would have kept him out for hours, but Liam Jones had been living a nightmare and the adrenaline in his system made the mild sedatives they’d been using to ‘help him sleep’ something like giving a half tab of melatonin to a rampaging elephant. Emma felt a flash of guilt that she’d taken so long to find him as he leaned heavily against her.
An orderly offered to help, but the moment he stepped forward Liam flinched away, nearly falling over, clearly terrified they’d drug him again.
Emma waved off the medical staff with an impatient gesture and half dragged Liam into an empty elevator, jabbing the ‘close door’ button before anyone could so much as mutter ‘how rude.’
She wasn’t entirely certain how she was going to get Liam across the hospital on her own. The idea of making a detour back to the lobby for a wheelchair crossed her mind for a moment but one look at the panic still evident in Liam’s eyes made her reconsider the idea. She straightened her shoulders as the doors opened and half-carried, half- led Liam down the long hallway to Killian’s room. Halfway down the hall her salvation came in the form of the orderly from earlier, jogging down the hall behind her to catch up with them, pushing an empty wheelchair. For a moment she thought Liam might refuse but he didn’t so much as hesitate and Emma remembered that his stubbornness has always been of a different form than his brother’s. Killian would have insisted upon making it on his own two feet. Liam didn’t care how he got there as long as he did, and if a wheelchair sped up the process so be it.
"Killian," he whispered when they finally reached the room, relief filling him. His brother was alive. Everything else was a worry for later. He scrambled out of the chair and to Killian’s side and Emma left him there for a moment to go to the nurses station and ensure that the bed next to Killian was officially Liam’s because she was quite certain that neither she nor anyone in this hospital was strong enough to move Liam back to his bed in the burn unit now. By the time Emma returned and the bed next to Killian officially belonged to one Liam Jones, Liam was already asleep in the chair next to Killian’s bed. It didn’t so much look like he intended to fall asleep there. He was hunched towards the bed, one hand still reaching towards Killian but his head angled uncomfortably against the mattress. She considered waking him and helping him over to the other bed but finally decided against it. He was probably too stubborn to move anyway. With a shrug and a sigh she climbed into the bed herself, finally letting herself relax a bit, now that her family was all together.
_____
Tagging the ‘competitors’ and the peanut gallery! @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @pirate-owl @icecubelotr44 @hollyethecurious @killian-whump @cocohook38
If you’d like to be added or removed from the whumpetition tag list aka the peanut gallery! let me know
