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?”  

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HEEEEEY, IT’S SOME PRECIOUS BABIES AND I LOVE THEM

Vocivore, Ltd. (39 of 45?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

                 (what the heck happened to the horizontal line, tumblr??)

Present (Friday, continued)…

The first siren was the most beautiful sound Jones had heard in a very long time. His sense of time had been growing increasingly fuzzy, but his estimate would have leaned toward a wait of at least an hour. Likely a gross exaggeration, but with Killian in such dire straits, and the attention-seeking behavior of his own dizzying pain, every moment had stretched to an interminable age.

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HAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHHA OMG

The callback to Stretcher Hook in S7... I CAN’T

Whumpetition #3/ @badthingshappenbingo Prompt: Ambulance Ride

Because @icecubelotr44 left a G sized gap in chapter 3 of Trouble with a Capital T so…. here is the ambulance scene that she left out! 

The shrill noise was making his head ache. Someone was screaming.

Not screaming.

Sirens.

Ambulance sirens.

Liam! Killian bolted upright, or tried to. Something held him down and he broke out in a cold sweat, fighting against the restraints with a groggy groan that was supposed to be a threat. Someone had taken him, someone had him tied down someone- where was Liam, had she taken Li- He tried to kick and screamed. Someone put something over his mouth and Killian turned away from the strangling gag, fighting to stay conscious as pain ripped through his leg.

“Please… please stay still-” The voice was barely a whisper; tremulous, with evidence of tears in each syllable. Killian’s eyes snapped open.

She’d taken Alice too.

“No- Run, love, you have to run-”

“They’re trying to help,” Alice whispered, “Please just stay still.” She was clasping at his hand and Killian blinked, looking around her, around them. Paramedics, ambulance, Alice. They took his stillness as an opportunity to shove the mask over his face again and Killian shook his head futilely-

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“...and the peanut gallery” XD THAT’S ME! :D

Lovely as always!!! :D

I confess, I often get so excited, I skip the author’s notes and go right to the story, because I can’t wait XD And so I was like, “Wait, this seems like part of that story... But isn’t that by icecube...? And I was confused XD

You guys make such a good team <3

Trouble with a Capital ‘T’ (3/who knows)

It liiiiiiives! Whumpetition Entry 3: Bedridden

Still basically just another excuse to whump the Jones brothers, after all.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

ao3 | ffn

“I suppose the real question is, ’who the bloody hell are you?” The girl made a startlingly accurate mockery of his accent and Liam blanched for a moment.  She had this look on her face that reminded him so much of…  His thoughts trailed away from his little brother when the girl’s face fell.  "You two are really hurt, aren’t ya?“

Something clicked in his head, and he didn’t really understand why.  "Tilly?”

She nodded automatically, not really looking at him, but at his little brother.  The look on her face as it crumpled, the devastation there, it all started to make a strange kind of sense as to how they’d gotten into this mess in the first place.

“How did you find us, lass?”  He didn’t understand how she’d gotten here, how she’d found them.

If she would help them.

“I just looked for what wasn’t there,” she replied cryptically, not taking her eyes off his brother.  She looked so familiar.

“What?”

She smiled, but it was a sad thing.  "I knew he’d come looking for me.  He’d never leave me out in the cold, not on a night like this.  I’ve spent colder nights, you know, out in the forest.  But not here.“

Liam still didn’t understand.

"When he didn’t show up, I came looking.  But he’s not waking up…” she trailed off, turning her tortured glance towards him.  "I don’t even know if he’s really awake.“

Liam blinked, not understanding.

"Are you awake? You’re not supposed to be if you are,” she riddled again.

He didn’t know what made him understand.  If it was her mannerisms or just a remnant of the curse.  If he’d ever known who she was or if he’d never met her before.  He didn’t understand how he knew - just that he knew.

“Aye, luv, I’m awake.  And so are you.”

She nodded.  "He named me Alice.  After your-“

"After our mother,” Liam finished.  “Of course he did. Alice, we-”

“You need help.  I’ll be back in a tiff!”

And she was off, her footsteps muffled in the snow and gone so suddenly that Liam wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

Did he have a niece to worry about now, as well?

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Oh boy Oh boy Oh boy! I need a lot of tags for this one! :D

Curse of Undoings - Part 10

I had to find a good point to separate the chapters which resulted in a shorter update this week which will set up the two battles - one to defeat the Black Fairy and the other to save Killian’s life. Lots of angst coming at you in this installment so be prepared…

Read from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net

Prior chapters on Tumblr: Pt1  Pt2  Pt3  Pt4  Pt5  Pt6  Pt7  Pt8  Pt9

Tagging @killian-whump @hookaroo and @castielamigos for this new update.

Rumpelstiltskin drew aside the heavy brocade drapery, gesturing for Emma to enter the private, back room of his shop. She glanced around warily before proceeding through the doorway with the Dark One following close behind.

“If you’re going to kill a fairy, you’ll need the proper tools,” he advised as he continued across the eclectically decorated room to a tall wooden cabinet that featured ornately carved door panels. He tugged open the right-hand door to reveal a variety of swords and spears concealed within and selected one in particular. Emma’s eyes widened as he withdrew the blade and held it out at arm’s length towards her. It was the same blade that had been wielded by the hooded figure from her nightmare. The same weapon that Gideon had attempted to use against her a few days ago in a battle, one he’d lost when his sword broke into multiple pieces and clattered to the pavement. And yet, here it was, held aloft right before her eyes and it was once again fully intact, in all its razor sharp glory.

“That’s the sword from my dream,” Emma stammered. “The one that’s supposedly fated to kill me… Gideon tried to use it against me, but it shattered during our fight. How do you have it and how the hell is it in one piece?”

“I’ve had this lovely weapon all along,” Rumple confessed, grinning cheerfully and at the same time, menacingly. “Do you honestly think I would allow Gideon to get his hands on the only weapon in Storybrooke that can kill a fairy? The one he futilely used to battle you was merely a replica, which is why it broke. This one is plated in the finest silver available in all of the realms and coated with my specially blended potion that makes it fatal to all fairies.”

“You definitely have a special distaste for fairies, don’t you?” Emma quipped sarcastically as Rumple passes the weapon to her hand.

“And having met my mother, you do understand why I find the little beasts so detestable, don’t you?” he echoed her query.

“So, this sword can kill Fiona?” Emma pressed, ignoring his mocking tone.

“That is precisely what the blade was forged to do. It’s imbued with the Blue Fairy’s magic and even if your strike doesn’t mortally wound my mother, a single drop of her blood against the blade will send her on a one-way trip back to her own miserable realm.”

“One way, huh? You’re sure about that?”

“The potion I developed contains a blood seal which ensures that she won’t ever be able to cross into this realm - or any other - again.”

“Any idea where I might find her?”

“Wherever she can find objects to help restore power to her dark magic. Be assured, she knows her curse has been broken – at least partially.”

“Regina sealed off her vault before the curse so that would only leave the fairy dust mines or maybe the clock tower as possibilities. Every villain in this town seems to have a thing for that damned tower…”

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Another great chapter!!! Love this story <3

Curse of Undoings - Part 9

My apologies for taking a little longer to get this next chapter completed.  Between a hectic week and a frustrating battle with myself trying to word portions of this chapter, I fell a bit behind.  This chapter picks up immediately after the cliffhanger so there’s no break in the action (or the angst…)

Tagging my whump-loving pals @killian-whump @castielamigos and of course @hookaroo who had been threatening hostages along with partner in crime @cocohook38 if I didn’t get this chapter posted soon.

No major trigger warnings apply here but there is description of the fallout after the shot rang out.  Read from the beginning on AO3 or FF.net

Tumblr: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8

Everything was in chaos.

Henry couldn’t think of a better word to describe the scene unfolding in the center of Storybrooke but he knew he needed to shake off the initial shock and assess the fallout from the events he’d just witnessed. Still on his hands and knees, he watched as Granny and several of her startled patrons spilled out of the diner, drawn out by the pop of a gunshot and what had looked like a flash of lightning on a clear, sunny day. A single motorist driving down Main Street at the wrong time was forced to pull to the curb as the town’s deputy was suddenly airborne, flung over the roadway by some unseen force.

“What the hell just happened?” a stunned Emma demanded as she stood in the street, attention torn between the traitorous deputy she’d just somehow launched with a burst of light that flew from the palm of her hand and the wounded prisoner who’d just shoved her son to safety, willingly taking the bullet Gideon had seemingly intended for her boy. The whole scene was surreal and despite all of the gawking onlookers, Emma felt strangely alone.

Henry knew Gideon’s motivation - probably better than Gideon himself did. He was still deeply brainwashed by Fiona, a pawn in the Black Fairy’s scheme to take down the Savior. Emma’s cursed recollection was gradually weakening her true self, rapidly amplifying the rage that she’d been directing toward her husband and son. Henry stood in the way of Emma killing her True Love, which Gideon believed to mean that Henry had to be removed from further interference. Emma’s response was perfectly natural – defending her child - but her emotions were torn as the deputy she’d trusted had attempted to harm her son while the murderer she loathed had just saved Henry’s life. It didn’t make sense and her head ached just thinking about it. Nothing made sense and Henry hoped that this would be the crack in the phony veneer Fiona had put in place that would help his mother remember.

First though, he needed to save Killian. Henry remembered that everything had happened so fast. Killian had shouted for him to watch out and shoved him to the ground. Falling, Henry had caught a glimpse of Gideon raising his service weapon and firing. As the bullet struck Killian in the chest, he’d dropped to the sidewalk, hand clutching the wound. Emma hadn’t even seen Killian get shot as she’d instinctively spun at Killian’s warning to lash out at Gideon, throwing the deputy to the opposite side of the street with a burst of magic, an act that had left her dumbfounded and instantly questioning reality as she knew it.

The reality that Henry knew though was that the blasted fairy was winning because everything he’d been trying desperately to save was falling apart.

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Only a Little Superstitious - Chapter 23

I didn’t have time to get this chapter posted last night so some may have already seen it on AO3 or FF.net.  This is the next to last installment of this story and it’s almost a little bit sad to be wrapping it up.  This chapter picks up right after defeating Kronk and jumping into the portal, but did they make it in time to save Killian from the dark magic and all of the injuries Kronk imparted on him?

From the beginning: 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16  17  18  19  20  21  22  Tagging @killian-whump and @hookaroo.  Still a little last minute whump on our pirate here .

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” a bored and still somewhat confused Dr. Victor Whale asked as he leaned against the rear bumper of the ambulance. He and two paramedics had been waiting here in the park for nearly an hour since Regina had summoned them - but they’d arrived to Storybrooke’s largest park to find only a gathering of perfectly healthy people. Regina and Snow White had implored him to stay, but he was growing increasingly impatient. “I still don’t see the medical emergency you were so adamant about, Madam Mayor.”

Regina threw him a perturbed glare as she surveyed the expanse of park grounds herself, watching for any anomaly that would indicate a portal would soon open. This park had the largest open, grassy area in all of Storybrooke which was why it was the place she and Emma had agreed upon.

“Be patient for once, Victor. It’s not like you have dozens of other medical emergencies to run off to. Emma might not have been able to get the dagger to work yet. Magic isn’t as absolute as your science but they’ll be here and Emma specifically stated that Hook would need medical attention. I mean, she can probably heal it all once she returns to Storybrooke’s magic but just in case, I need you here, at the ready. The man was stabbed with a dagger that’s almost as evil as the Dark One’s after all.”

“Seems to be a recurring problem,” Whale quipped.

“And I will be yours if you don’t shut up and just get ready to do your job,” a visibly tense David lashed out as he overheard the doctor’s commentary about his son-in-law.

“David… didn’t see you there…” Whale shrank back, slightly embarrassed that his statement had been heard. “I’ll just wait over here until you need my services…”

“You do that,” David snapped, turning his attention to Regina. “Anything look out of the ordinary to indicate the portal is about to open?”

“Not yet,” Regina replied with a shake of her head, “but it’s not always easy to tell when or where a portal might open. You know that, David. Don’t worry, she’ll get it.”

“Emma sounded pretty worried on the phone. She said the fever was back, didn’t she?”

“Yes, and you know that too. You heard the same conversation this morning that I did. As soon as they return with the dagger, I can use a spell to draw the dark magic back into the artifact. I’m quite sure that once he’s no longer fighting against that darkness, Hook will make a full recovery from the stab wound.”

“I hope you’re right,” David sighed as a gust of wind tousled his hair. “Funny, I don’t remember the weather forecast mentioning wind for today…”

“It didn’t,” Regina smiled as she brushed her own dark locks away from her face, realizing that the sudden strong breeze could be the portal just as the vortex materialized in the middle of the open field. Emma stumbled out first alongside an elderly woman with long, braided white hair.

“Emma!” David cried at the sight of his daughter. He started running toward her as both women collapsed into the grass. A second or two behind them, a dark haired man tumbled out, losing his balance from the sudden impact with the ground and dropping a large bundle that he’d shouldered through the portal. David and Regina instantly realized that the bundle the man had been carrying was the wounded and seemingly unconscious Killian Jones.

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Clear and Present Danger (13/16)

I’m so sorry.

Summary:  Homicide detective Killian Jones has been searching for a way to bring Milah’s murderer to justice. There’s only one small problem: Robert Gold is the captain of the same homicide division. Enter Emma Swan, Internal Affairs investigator, looking into Gold’s shady dealings. Between the two of them, can they unravel the web of deals and lies that have gotten Gold to where he is?

Rated:  T, for violence, some dark themes, angst, and whump (you expected different?)

TW: character death, mention of past self-harm, fatal car accident, school hostage situation

Other ships: mentions past Millian in a good light, Outlaw Queen, Snowing

Art credit/link: The totally awesome @cocohook38 made the cover you can see above and on her blog here. Later in the story, she’s illustrated some key points to the fic and I can’t thank her enough for her work! Chapter Four’s art is HERE.  Go show her some love!

Beta reader: @gusenitsaa took on this monster without probably knowing exactly what she was getting into (what do you mean 100,000 words?!) and any mistakes that you find are probably me being stubborn and ignoring her advice!  Thank you!

A/N:  Written as part of the 2018 Captain Swan Big Bang Challenge.  You can catch up with all the other fics that are complete by following @captainswanbigbang and/or subscribing to the Group Collection on AO3 and/or the C2 on FFN. This is complete in 16 parts and will be posted every Sunday from now until its completion.

Take it away, It’s going to be a bumpy ride.

Word count:  ~ 6,350 (100k Total in 16 chapters)

From the beginning: AO3 / FFN

Current Chapter: ao3 | ffn

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: OFFICER DOWN

Liam had always heard that his life would ‘flash before his eyes’ in the moments before he died, but he was swiftly learning that the same applied when it was Killian, cold and still and not breathing in the snow.  He saw his little brother swaddled in blue behind the window of a hospital nursery, then curled against their mother’s chest in their tiny flat - ill with a fever and hoarsely begging for another story. Then he was teaching Killian to ride a bike, their mother long passed on and their father ‘too busy’ to do much of anything with the boys.  He saw Killian’s first goal in football, his first heartbreak after a school dance, his patented smirk when he tossed his graduation cap in the air.

He saw that same smirk, turned into a look of pure relief, when Liam put a bullet in his chest instead of over his shoulder - when he felt Gold fall away from him, dead before he hit the ground.

He saw his little brother’s blood staining the snow.

He saw Emma Swan leaning over his brother to pinch his nose shut and breathe for him again and again. His brother was dead.  His little brother - the boy he’d raised and the man he’d been so proud of every day - was dead.  Killian was gone and it was all his fault.  

Liam crawled, his arms weak and shaky, his legs nearly useless with the adrenaline and the goddamned neurotoxin coursing through him.  He had to get to Killian’s side; he had to see-

“Liam!  Get back!”  Emma shouted harshly in his ear, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and yanking him off balance, away from Killian.

He snarled at her, trying to tear away and get to his brother.  He needed to-

The whoomp of the defibrillator stopped Liam from actually trying to assault Emma if it would get her to let him go.  He turned startled, terrified eyes on her, pleading silently for her - or anyone - to tell him that this was a nightmare.  Just a bad dream that he’d wake up from any moment.

“One and two and three and…”

Not a nightmare then.

His little brother’s heart had stopped beating.

Liam was almost positive that his had done the same.

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YOU BETTER RUN AND HIDE D:

Vocivore, Ltd. (7 of ?)

A OUAT WINTER WHUMP FIC

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump​, @killian-whump​, and  @killianjonesownsmyheart1 <3

Five weeks ago…

Sheriff Emma Swan was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize how hard she was chewing her pen until her teeth practically met, only a thin layer of gnawed plastic sandwiched between them. She made a noise of frustrated disgust and tossed the implement away, sighing, still deeply absorbed in the papers before her. She wasn’t making much progress and had come to the point where continued staring wasn’t even helping her to feel like she was doing something useful anymore. So when the outer door of the station opened, she found herself grateful for the interruption, despite the grim situation looming before her.

“Killian?” she called. He was almost ten minutes late and hadn’t contacted her, which was unlike him. But it wasn’t her husband who sauntered into the bullpen.

“No, I’m not, and glad of it.”

“Dad.” Emma grinned and got up from her desk. “What’s up?”

“I was in the area, thought I should stop by and see how you’re doing. Any progress on figuring out a way to defeat this guy?”

“Not yet,” she admitted with a dejected sigh. She glanced out the window, making a face at the collection of pigeon droppings gathered on the sill. “And now, on top of everything else, my magic is on the fritz; I dunno if the monster’s shield is expanding or what.”

“That’s just what we need,” scowled David, looking uneasy.

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Ohhhhh... The pieces are coming together...

Uninvited Company - Part Three

My apologies for getting this final installment of my @ouatwinterwhump tale out a tad later than planned. I was sidelined by a migraine Monday, but I was able to finish it up today and share the conclusion. We left off last week with Emma a hostage and a wounded Killian staring down a wolf. I nearly had to add a fourth part to this to fit everything in (including a little bonus that I threw in at the last minute - sorry Killian).  For those following, I hope you’ve enjoyed the pains inflicted on our favorite pirate.  Once again, thanks to the creators of this fun event and to @the-whumpy-fangirl for providing her beta assistance.

Also on AO3 and FF.net   Part One   Part Two

Hands still cuffed in front of her, Emma faced an awkward challenge rolling up the bright blue tarp as swiftly as her captor would have liked. Answering a question too slowly or not completing a task fast enough earned her a none-too-gentle shove, but so far, the stranger had refrained from actually striking her, although she doubted that courtesy would last much longer. This guy was more agitated now than he’d been when they first encountered him, eager to get moving on his trek towards the Canadian border - one she had no desire to make. She didn’t want to venture north because that would take her further from the town line. Further from magic and most importantly, further from the wounded husband she’d been forced to leave behind.

Surprisingly, the stranger hadn’t taken her phone. He must have somehow been aware that there was no service this deep into the forest so he wasn’t worried about her attempting to call for help. Her brain kept toying with thoughts as to whether the GPS locator inside the device would still work if there was no tower for it to communicate with, but on the off-chance that it did function, maybe someone would be able to find her. Maybe her father, being the often overprotective dad that he was, would become worried when they didn’t return by dusk and start a search party? Obviously, it would be better if her message miraculously made it through so David would know they were in trouble, but she couldn’t count on that happening.

After the campsite was cleared and all traces of human habitation covered up with dirt or vegetation, they embarked on the journey north once again, following a gravel utility service road. Emma knew that it was at least another hundred miles or so to the border but her captor definitely wasn’t equipped to make it that far. He had little water and scarcely enough food for one person, let alone two. There was no logical way they’d manage the several days it would take to reach the destination on foot. He’d been paranoid about cops finding him so there must already be law enforcement out hunting for him. Might there be some way she could convince him to head back to her car? Maybe convince him to drive to the border instead of facing days trying to hike it? This guy wasn’t from Storybrooke. He had no idea of how badly she’d magically kick his ass the moment she stepped across that town line. She just had to make him trust her but that would be a difficult task being law enforcement and all…

The sooner she could deal with this unexpected, homicidal third wheel, the sooner she could get back to Killian. She could only imagine how her pirate was faring… Had he regained consciousness yet? Was he getting cold? Blood loss could make you feel colder and all he had was that ratty old blanket stuffed in the backpack. Would he even remember it was there? If the forest canopy hadn’t been so thick, she’d half expected to see carrion birds circling above the trees. Killian was alone, bleeding and probably still unconscious in a wilderness full of predators and the mere thought of his situation was conjuring up disturbing images she didn’t dare contemplate… Were there bears in these woods? Mountain lions? Another pissed off wraith?

She and her unwanted companion had traveled maybe two miles from the campsite when her alert ears picked up a distant popping sound. It was faint, but it was also unmistakable - another gunshot.

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A Captain’s Heart (30 of 32)

Chapter 1 Chapter 29

Rated T for language and graphic descriptions of injuries.

Also on FF.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12937105/1/A-Captain-s-Heart

Tagging @therooksshiningknight & @killian-whump by request :)

Killian drifted back into a muddled awareness when he heard unfamiliar voices in the stairwell. All of his hurts assaulted him at once, and as he cringed, he struggled to make sense of dream-distorted reality.

“Down here,” directed Emma, her voice growing louder as she neared the door to his cabin. With difficulty, Killian managed to peel his eyelids open to a slitted squint.

Uniformed strangers - three men and a woman - flooded the room, carrying a stretcher and loads of intimidating equipment. Paramedics. Killian grimaced; the prospect of enduring their meddling seemed impossibly daunting, no matter how small a part he would play. Unconsciousness beckoned enticingly but would be kept at bay by inevitable pain.

“You said his name is Killian?” asked one of the men as the others staged the area with practiced ease. Emma nodded, and the man approached the bunk to the discordant accompaniment of plastic pouches being opened and velcro torn apart. “Killian, I’m Gary; this is Brett, Rusty, and Colleen. We’re here to help. Can you open your eyes for me?”

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Bloody Hands (Whumptober 2018 Day 2)

For @la-vie-en-whump‘s Whumptober 2018 prompts.  Still a little bit late for the day.

All prompts from last and this year: HERE Previous Days: Stabbed |

Liam didn’t know how long he had been kneeling there with his fists balled up in the flannel shirt he’d torn from his shoulders and putting as much of his weight as he could around the dagger.  Killian hadn’t made a sound in what seemed like hours, not since he’d put his trust in Liam to get them out of this and then surrendered to unconsciousness.  

God, where was the bloody ambulance?

Killian’s blood was warm as it continued to soak into the soft cotton, the bit of skin Liam could feel was cool but not cold.  Not like the icy feel of the dagger against the web of his thumbs.  Killian was still alive.  He was still fighting.

For now.

“Please, brother. Please, please, please.”  Liam didn’t even know what he was pleading for anymore.  For Killian to be all right, obviously.  For his little brother to wake up, of course.  For this to never have happened.  For his own bloody shortcomings not to be the reason he’d have to bury his brother.

For the only person left in the world who gave a damn about him not to leave Liam, too.  Not like their mother.  Not like their bloody bastard of a father.  Not Killian, too.

“Please.”

Then there were hands. So many bloody hands tearing his away from the dagger and pulling at his shoulders and trying to steal him away from his brother.  He couldn’t – they couldn’t – he had to stay.  Didn’t these people know that he had to keep Killian alive?  That he needed his brother far more than Killian had ever needed him?

He needed to be needed; it was all Liam knew how to do in this terrifying world.

“For the love of God,” a voice growled in his ears before a hand worked its way under his arm and yanked him away from Killian for good.

Liam struggled; God, did he struggle.  He bucked and tried to kick and tried to get his hands underneath him so he could get some leverage.  But the men he was fighting were stronger; there were more of them.  They hadn’t spent the last minutes, hours, days, years shouldering his little brother’s weight so that Killian could thrive.

All Liam’s fighting got him was a knee in his back and the echoing click of handcuffs securing his hands behind him.

“Stand down!” a voice shouted in his ear, the accent familiar, but the voice not recognizable enough to filter through.  “They’re trying to help him!”

Liam blinked.  The red haze started to fade from his vision as logic started to assert itself once more.  There were men crowding around Killian, but they wore uniforms. Paramedics.  Medics with IVs and gauze and bags with things to help his brother.

Killian would be all right.

“Let me up,” he growled, trying to roll off his stomach or get his knees under him.

The weight on his back didn’t move.

“Get off me!” he shouted.  “Get off!”

Nothing.

They were moving Killian now, hefting him bodily onto a gurney and lifting him away from the cold concrete.  There was a mask over his face and the white of the sheets below him wasn’t nearly enough of a contrast with the pallor of his skin.

There was so much blood left behind.

Too much blood, saturating Liam’s shirt that the paramedics had discarded as if his efforts to keep Killian alive meant nothing.

“Let him up,” a new voice ordered, this one easily recognizable.

Nemo.

“You’ll be calm now, won’t you, Captain?” the voice asked in that infuriatingly calm manner that Nemo always seemed to favor.

Liam nodded.  He’d agree to anything that didn’t end up with him handcuffed somewhere he couldn’t follow Killian.

“They’re helping him, you know,” the first voice – the officer who’d been kneeling on his back – supplied helpfully.

Liam nodded again.

It all blurred a little after that – the jangle of keys, the rush of feeling back to his fingers, the path out of the warehouse and into the backseat of a warm car.  The ambulance was long gone by the time they’d gotten Liam out of there, and all he could concentrate on was the rush of blood pulsing in his ears, the flash of lights as they sped down the road, the smell of sweet copper assaulting his nostrils.

The sympathetic smile of the nurses who deposited him in a private waiting room with a canister of wet wipes and a red trash can.

His hands were covered in blood.  It caked under his fingernails and stained his palms and made his fingers stiff.  It itched in the webs of his fingers and stung his thumbs and…

Stung.  Right.

Liam scrubbed at Killian’s blood, trying to clean it from his hands.  Trying to erase it from existence.  Trying to make up for the fact that his little brother had left so much of it behind in that warehouse because of him.

It didn’t matter.  No matter how many wipes he used, no matter how hard he chaffed at his hands, they’d never be clean.  Not anymore.  Not with Killian fighting for his life in some other room that Liam couldn’t get to.

Alone.

They were both so alone right now and all Liam could do was watch as droplets of his own blood splattered on the cheery rug beneath his feet.

He didn’t notice when a nurse came in to check on him, hurrying out again with one look at the mess they’d left behind when they’d led him to this room.

He didn’t notice until a man in scrubs graffitied with speckles of blood, his hands suspiciously clean, knelt down in front of him.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones…”

@killian-whump @gilliangrissom @gusenitsaa @pirate-owl @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable @ladyciaramiggles @cocohook38 @nonnyj @queen-mabs-revenge @eala-captian @crystalyte @kmomof4

Me, at the start: Oh, good. She’s fixing it...

Me, at the end: I DID NOT AGREE TO THIS D:

Guys, this month is going to be a long, hard one for us all... T_T

It’s 6 am and this is what I have to offer.

Killian Jones + Gurneys

...and here’s @naiariddle again, with the importantest GIF sets! :D

The Recreant

The wonderful @scribblecat27 had a great idea to bring some of our older works back into the light as part of the #OUAT Fandom Crescendo which led me to bring back one of my early multi-chapter fics, The Recreant.  It’s an angsty tale that I put together to fill in some of the missing pieces from season 5B and the opening chapter contains one of the whumpiest scenes I’ve written. (One that would make @killian-whump proud)  I tried here to craft a story that would fill in the missing part of the story as to why Hades was so focused on Killian.  There are a few surprises thrown in along the way, some a little controversial, but it gives a look at one probable explanation for the events.

You can read the entire story on AO3 or FF.net or start with Chapter One below.  Tumblr links to the next chapters will appear at the bottom.

The Recreant - Chapter One

RECREANT [rek-ree-uh nt]

adjective

1. cowardly or craven.

2, unfaithful, disloyal, or traitorous.

noun

3. a coward.

4. an apostate, traitor, or renegade.

Monday, 7:10am

Like nearly every other day, Killian Jones was awake with the sun, even if he was taking things a tad more leisurely than he normally would. Waking alone in their huge king sized bed wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed and he would certainly have rather accompanied Emma to Boston, but she’d been insistent that it would be a quick overnight trip.

“It’s just a parole hearing,” she’d told him. “I had to track this guy down twice so the District Attorney’s office wanted me to come in and testify about how big of a flight risk he is. I’ll drive down Sunday night then the hearing in front of the parole board at the prison is at 10:30am. I’ll be done and back home to Storybrooke in less than twenty-four hours and we can go have a nice, quiet dinner somewhere – just the two of us.”

He smiled to himself as he recalled her words from Friday afternoon when she’d gotten the phone call. It had been a while since they’d had a meal together somewhere that didn’t have grilled cheese sandwiches and onion rings on the menu so he was all-too happy to oblige – whatever the occasion might be. However, regardless of what they might be celebrating tonight, he was still starting this Monday morning off on his own so he’d made the decision to head to the one place where he felt most at home when he was alone – the deck of the Jolly Roger. He held a pang of guilt that he’d been slightly neglectful of her as of late, so since he had a free morning, he’d conceded that he needed to spend a few hours with his second lady love before she turned on him – at least as much as a ship could.

On most days, he would have followed Harbor Way down around the cannery to the docks, but a weekend water main break had closed down the road and even the accompanying sidewalks completely due to a large, gaping hole in the pavement that needed to be filled. Because of the mess, Killian had been forced to detour down an alley between the cannery and a building supply warehouse that was undergoing renovations. The alley ended in the same place at the harbor, but he hated walking this way because of all of the haphazardly scattered construction rubbish that constantly overflowed the provided container. He hadn’t the foggiest idea what they were doing inside that warehouse building, but it certainly resulted in an overwhelming amount of refuse and this morning was no exception as he found himself having to step around randomly strewn bits of metal, wood and glass that littered the alleyway. He made a mental note to report this mess to the Sheriff later. Someone should most definitely get a citation for this hazardous chaos. Being the Sheriff’s husband did have some advantages and maybe he’d just use that influence to speak to the workers or the foreman himself and remind them that the receptacle was provided for a reason.

But as he reached the corner of the warehouse and the end of the disorderly alley, he was greeted by the sight of the harbor quay. With the sun low in the sky on this early morn, there were deep shadows cast against the concrete and asphalt, but he could already spy the sun-kissed sea that beckoned ahead with its gentle waves bobbing in eager anticipation. The destination was well worth the trip down that dreadful alley, he thought to himself – at least until he heard the startling sound of glass crunching behind him. He’d been fairly certain that he’d entered the alley alone, but perhaps one of those untidy warehouse workers had arrived to their employ early? Whether instinct or just curiosity, the unexpected noise had garnered his attention and he turned around slowly to see if another person had indeed joined him in the alley, but only the shadow of the building was visible. Perhaps he was just a tad paranoid this morning. Here he was getting jumpy over a dark alley and…

He had just begun shift his attentions back to the harbor when his peripheral vision caught sight of the object careening toward him, but there wasn’t enough reaction time to register it before the blow pummeled into the left side of his head. He felt the weapon crush into his skull above his ear, then tear an ugly gash across his left cheekbone as it followed through its arc. The torn skin was searing and spilling blood down over his jaw and neck, but he barely felt it over the intense throbbing inside his cranium. He staggered a few steps toward the direction he thought the attack had come from, glancing up to see a cylindrical wooden object coming toward him again. He was able to dodge the weapon this time and swung wildly toward his assailant with his hook, feeling some satisfaction as it came in contact with someone or something, but even that small victory was short-lived as the weapon came crashing down on his forearm at the spot where the leather brace that attached his hook tapered off. Even before the blinding pain registered, he knew the arm was broken; he’d felt the bones give way beneath the force of a blow so strong it had dislodged his hook and sent it clattering off somewhere into the shadows.

Already doubled over in pain and now defenseless, the rest of the attack was a blur. In those few seconds, his assailant had been relentless, striking him next across the middle of his back, the weapon finding little resistance from the thick leather of his jacket as it smashed the left side of his rib cage. He found himself unable to remain on his feet, dropping to his knees on the concrete gasping for air as crushed ribs caved inward toward his lung. Only his right arm seemed to still be functioning as he struggled against the blackness, not wanting to give in to unconsciousness. He forced his arm to press his torso up from the pavement, barely raising himself a few inches as he collapsed under the vicious final blow to the back of his head. There was no fighting the inevitable now as his unfocused eyes searched for one last glimpse of the sea before everything went dark.

Confident that Killian was finished trying to get back up, his attacker dropped the blood-stained weapon next to its victim then peeled off and shoved camel colored suede work gloves into the pockets of a dark wool coat. There was a slight sting as he shoved the coat sleeve up to examine the deep scrape inflicted by Killian’s hook on his wrist. Somehow, the pirate had managed to catch him right between the glove and the sleeve, leaving a scratch that could potentially tie him to the assault, but unfortunately, the blasted hook was nowhere to be seen in the darkness of the alley so he’d have to leave it behind. Other things were more important right now as he greedily pawed through his victim’s pockets searching for what he’d come for…

Something he wasn’t finding…

Killian’s attacker became more frantic – patting at and turning out pockets in a desperate hunt for something that wasn’t being found. Frustrated and then rattled by a commotion nearby, the assailant finally ran off, leaving his victim unconscious and bleeding in the warehouse shadow. With so little traffic on the harbor at this hour, he slipped away unnoticed even as Killian’s right eye flickered open for a split second to see a fleeting image of the person who’d just beat him so savagely, but there was no hint of recognition in his gaze and his eyelids fluttered closed yet again.

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