Alternate version of the underworld arc toying with the idea that people in the underworld gradually forget themselves. A twist on greek mythology once-ified because why not!

The idea came out of the 'all headcanons come with a price' discord sooooo... beware of angst.

He doesn't make it three days. Not because he gives in to Liam's pleas or arguments, though he nearly does. He so very nearly does that he has to step outside to settle his nerves sometime in the early hours of the third morning. And that's when the man with the flaming hair comes for him.

When he comes to it's dark. It takes his eyes a moment to ajust to the few beams of red light filtering in through cracks in the walls. The man with the flaming hair is watching him, a composed smile on his lips. His hook has been removed and the man turns it back and forth in his hand. Killian shifted a bit, standing and testing the strength of the shackles that held him to the wall.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Killian snapped.

Without hesitation Hades shifted, slamming the point of the hook into Killian's chest where excalibur had once pierced his skin. If he'd had a moment to prepare himself, perhaps he wouldn't have screamed.

"Manners! What is it with you Jones boys and your terrible manners." The man shook his head disapprovingly. "Hades. Lord of the Underworld. Pleasure to own you."

Killian bristled, trying to calm his breathing again while Hades just smirked. "Do you know why you're here?"

"Couldn't begin to guess."

Hades grasped the hook, still lodged in Killian's chest and began to twist it slowly. "Trying to restore the memories of my subjects is strictly forbidden, Captain. But I understand. Not everyone reads the welcome materials. Perhaps you didn't know. I'm sure you'll give up this pointless quest now that you know, won't you?"

"Of course. Happy to oblige," Killian lied without hesitation.

Hades laughed. "You and I simply must play poker someday." This time Killian is ready and when Hades yanks the hook from his chest he managed to bite back the cry. Hades looked downright disappointed and it was worth the blood in his mouth from where he bit his tongue to see Hades mope.

"You have interfered with my carefully cultivated existence," Hades said calmly. "So... I am going to hurt you. Then I'm going to collect the ones you love, and I'm going to hurt them too. They won't remember you, of course, but I'll be sure to tell them that it was your stubbornness that caused them such pain. They will curse your name by the end." Hades smiled and was gone in a tower of blue flame. Killian sagged against the wall leaning his head back and hissing as the edges of his wound tug and ignite.

"Bloody hell."

Three days. Killian had promised three days and this absurdity would be over and Liam could go back to his bar.

Technically he hadn't left his bar.

The doors had been locked for two days and he had to admit it irked him that no one had come to see why the doors were barricaded closed.

Who would come?

Killian had left hours ago and as the red predawn light filtered through the windows Liam tugged at his bindings again. His wrists were red from tugging and he knew it wouldn't come loose but he couldn't seem to keep himself from trying. His throat was burning with thirst. He'd had neither food nor drink in days and while, admittedly, there was no true need for either in this place, it was bloody unpleasant to ignore centuries of habit.

His eyes slipped towards the box of letters. Killian had been reading them over again and had left the box within reach when he left. For lack of anything better to do Liam picked up one and glanced over it.

It was one of the early letters that he'd read before, a familiar anecdote about Killian's brother carving him toy soldiers from bits of driftwood. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips in spite of his irritation. He knew these stories, as if they were his own now. He had told Killian that he had not read the letters, but it had been a lie. He'd read every single one more times than he cared to admit. Pity and, of all things, jealousy, burning in his stomach. To have someone that he cared for so deeply, who cared for him in return? It had been who knows how many years since he had given up hope that anything like that could be his.

He glanced back down at the letter, chuckling a bit at this other Liam's depiction of Killian leaving the roughly fashioned soldiers propped on the edge of a bunk and demanding a password to enter.

"Glory to the Brothers Jones" he muttered with a half smile.

His smile faltered and he clutched the letter tighter. He reread it over and over again and realized with a start that there was nothing in the letter about what the phrase was, And yet with sudden certainty he knew it. It must have been in one of the other letters.

His shaking fingers reach for the box, devouring letter after letter. Trying to find that detail somewhere, anywhere. It wasn't there.

Gods. What if Killian was right?

It couldn't be. Killian truly seemed to believe that he was his Liam. He knew it wasn't true. This place made people's minds so foggy. He couldn't remember exactly how long he'd had these letters, time was a strange thing down here, but even so... Anyone he had known while alive must have been long dead, and no one had ever come looking for him.

Glory to the Brothers Jones.

Hours pass and details become clearer. Little things at first. He doesn't remember Killian, but he knows three things. The pass phrase, that Killian was right about the water down here…. And that there was a decent chance his last name had been Jones once. It didn't make sense. The timing was all wrong but-

Where had Killian gone?

It had been the better part of a day, maybe longer, and the bar outside remained empty as a growing anxiety filled Liam's stomach and made his fingers tremble.

He remembers the letter.

He remembered writing the letter.

He remembered long desperate nights rereading the letter over and over, afraid if he fell asleep he'd lose everything. And the one night that he finally did. But where was Killian.

Then he was screaming again. Not for rescue but for Killian.

It had been hours, hours, and Killian had not come back. Memories were trickling back, streaming back and tears were slipping down his cheeks. Killian. Where was Killian?

He tugged at the shackle with more force, his wrists aching. He didn't care. Killian was here. Killian was here and now he's gone and he has to find him. The feeling in his stomach is telling him something has gone very very wrong. With a steadying breath he looked down at the shackles. He could probably get them free if only…

There's a paperclip in the box, he remembered abruptly, clipping the sketch Milah had once made for him of Killian's face.

Milah. What's happened to her?

She simply stopped coming one day and he hadn't even noticed. He hopes she found a way to move on.

He shook his head. Later. For now he needed to find his brother.

He managed to pop the cuff open and hurried out into the bar. It was quiet and the front door was unlocked. Liam raced out into the street but Killian was nowhere in sight.

Hades.

The name made his gut twist in panic. It must have been Hades.

"Hades!" Liam screamed into the empty street. "What have you done to my brother?"

There was a flash of blue flame and the demon himself appeared in the street. "Captain Jones. Did you miss me?"

"Where is my brother?" Liam hissed.

"Boathouse."

For a moment Liam was shocked into stillness, he hadn't actually expected Hades to tell him. It was a trap, more than likely, but he ran anyway, not stopping until he reached the boathouse and crashed through the doors.

Killian was hanging limp from the ceiling, chains cutting into bleeding broken flesh and a puddle of blood both dried and fresh on the floor beneath him. The smell of blood assaulted him abruptly and nausea grips Liam. He nearly vomits, despite the emptiness of his stomach.

For a moment he thinks Killian must be unconscious but after a moment he realized his little brother is shaking and gasping for the tiny breaths that are all the chains would allow.

"Killian?"

There was no answer. Liam was already looking for a way to get Killian down when there was a crash of metal and Killian plummeted to the ground, screaming in agony when he lands. Liam raced to his side, hands hesitating for a moment, unsure of how to touch him without hurting him further. One eye is swollen shut and that side of his face is the deep scarlet of drying blood. His clothes were in tatters and Liam cringes when he sees the skin beneath is just as torn.

"Killian, talk to me-"

"Hurts-"

Liam's heart clenched. "I know, Killian," he managed to find the edge of the chain and carefully began to pull it away from his abraded skin. Killian cried out as the metal came slowly free.

"Stop, please, no more-"

Tears streamed down Liam's face unchecked now. Killian always hid his pain behind a mask, ever since he was a child. To see him so openly broken made anger and fear and guilt churn in his stomach again.

Get him free.

Get him patched up.

No time for guilt.

Fix it.

The chains finally fell free and Killian collapsed against Liam, wincing at the pressure on fresh wounds but without the strength to hold himself up. His open eye was unfocused and he was barely clinging to conciousness.

"Killian, look at me-"

One bleary eye met his, confused and full of … fear?

"Please… Please, don't hurt me-"

Liam's heart dropped through the floor.

It was then that he noticed the empty canteen on the floor.

"No-"

Liam heard Hades chuckle from behind him and spun, his arm still tight around Killian.

"What did you do-"

"Oops."

Then Hades was gone with a laugh.

Getting Killian back to the bar was the longest few blocks of his entire existence. Every step caused Killian fresh agony but he needed familiar ground. Needed water and bandages and… the water…

Could he even use the water?

Killian followed him, thanking him for his kindness in a small voice that reminded Liam of a boy that Killian had not been in centuries. There was no recognition in his eyes now. And he'd never seen someone fade so fast. It had been less than 24 hours since he'd last seen his brother and now Killian was g-

He shook his head.

Not gone. He can't be gone.

Not when he just got his little brother back.

Killian barely made a sound when Liam helped him sink onto his bed, but his jaw was clenched and muscles stiff, afraid to relax and put too much weight on… anything.

"I'll be right back, Killian," Liam murmured, hurrying back out into the bar to gather what supplies he could. Stacks of cloth napkins, a subpar first aid kit and a bowl of warm water.

Would the water do more harm than good? Could his wounds even get infected down here. And what if they did, it wasn't as though Killian could die again? Even if he could not die, he could suffer. Hades had seen to that. There is nothing for it. The wounds have to be cleaned or they won't heal.

He peeled off Killian's tattered clothes, one strip at a time, murmuring platitudes and apologies intermingled each time Killian winced away from his touch.

He washed the cuts, bruises and burns, covering the evidence of Hades attention with strips of napkin cut into neat bandages. At least this time the bandages were clean. How many times had he done this before? More than he cared to remember.

Except he did care to remember. He had to remember. He had to keep remembering.

By the time he was done he had a pile of tattered clothes and bloody napkins up to his knees and the water in the bowl was scarlett. The blood was staining his clothes his sheets and his hands. Killian had passed out about halfway through and Liam had to admit it was a relief to be able to work without Killian flinching from every touch.

Without Killian looking at him with those pained empty eyes. Without having to think about what if Killian never remembers him.

Days passed in a blur of bandaging and rebandaging, washing and trying to help Killian sleep without the weight on his worst wounds but there was no sign of growing recognition. Killian begged for water, his throat parched and no memory of why he should avoid it.

Liam gave it to him.

It was only temporary. He reasoned. Just until he heals a bit. Just a bit.

Hades came to him on the fourth day, offering him a flask with a threat in his eyes. "My kingdom, my rules. The flask or I take him back."

Liam drank.

He forgot himself for hours after that, but he'd left himself a warning not to touch the food or drink and he came back to himself before Killian's bandages needed to be changed. From that moment on he put on a charade of forgetfulness for Hades, unwilling to sacrifice his memories or his brother. The sip or two needed to convince Hades of his compliance made him foggy sometimes but he never forgot again.

As he healed, the Killian under his care was so different than the man who had come into his bar so many weeks ago. Lighter, somehow, despite the wounds still scabbing over on his skin.

He still asked for water.

Liam still gave it to him.

He felt a pang of guilt each time he brought Killian water or rum or food from the bar. He didn't touch food or drink himself, and it was getting harder to hide that from Killian. But the thought of Killian's memories returning filled Liam with apprehension. Hades was watching.

He knew what Killian was doing, knows that it was exactly why Hades tortured him. So long as Liam didn't try to bring back his memories Hades would leave him alone. Right?

Besides, if he could befriend Killian like this, Killian won't remember him but they will both be safe and they would be together.

It could work.

It almost worked.

Until she came.

Emma Swan took the underworld by storm. Without subtlety or anything that even seemed to approach a plan except 'get Kllian back.' While he admired her tenacity, and was glad to see Killian had found someone to care for him, he knew for a fact that this Emma Swan was going to destroy his little brother.

He managed to hide Killian from her for three days. It wasn't difficult. Killian was still healing and spent a great deal of his time in the back room of the bar in a bed he did not remember was Liam's. But she seemed unwilling to believe his claims not to know a Killian because she came back day after day asking probing questions and watching him with suspicious eyes.

"You're lying to me," she finally said bluntly.

He saw the moment Killian emerged from the back room before he'd managed to get her out of the bar and her eyes widened. She made a beeline for Killian but he intercepted her, grabbing her arm roughly and pulling her into a corner of the bar. He received an elbow to the solar plexus for his trouble. When he could finally speak again he could only manage a few words.

"-trying to...protect him" It was enough to make her pause, though her eyes didn't leave Killian until she was satisfied he did not appear to be leaving.

"Who are you, really?"

"Liam Jones. He's… he's my little brother."

"You remember him?" Emma asked carefully, her eyebrows furrowed in distrust.

"He saved me, but Hades… Hades tortured him. Emma, I'm sure you mean well but I won't let Hades take him again. He's happy here, he doesn't remember the things that have hurt him…"

"You don't want him to remember?" Emma asked in shock. "Tell me how to fix it, tell me how to bring him back!? Liam pulled her further in to the corner his eyes flicking rapidly around the bar for signs of Hades. "Tell me how to bring him back-" she hissed.

Liam shook his head.

"You self-righteous, selfish a-"

"I can't."

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Hades will take him if he remembers. Hades will destroy him. I won't watch that happen."

"So instead you destroy him yourself?" Her words hit him like another punch to the gut and he gaped at her.

"I can't lose him again."

Something in her eyes softened then and she glanced across the room towards Killian.

"Liam please," she whispered, "I need him. I need him to come home."

"And I need him to exist. Which he won't if Hades finds out he remembers. You didn't see him, Emma, after Hades… I won't let Hades take him again."

"We can protect him."

"Like you protected him while he was alive?" Now it was Emma's turn to flinch and her voice caught in her throat. "What happened to him, Emma? When he first got here he was… What happend?" Liam pushed on, sensing her weakness and probing at it.

Emma looked at the floor, "it doesn't matter-"

"It doesn't matter?" The tide was turning and now it was Liam who seemed as though he could barely contain his temper. "My little brother is dead. And Hades flayed the skin from his bones until there was barely enough left for me to patch back together. To the pit with 'it doesn't matter.'

Emma went pale and Liam crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving her for a moment.

"I was trying to save his life," she said quietly.

"Hell of a job you d-"

"I turned him into the dark one," she interrupted, "and it did save his life but-"

"It drove him mad," Liam finished.

Emma nodded. "He broke free of it, in the end, but too late. He'd… The only way to stop it was… He begged me to-"

"You killed him," Liam's voice was cold and Emma glared up at him.

"He didn't want to be the dark one. But I did it anyway. Because I love him and I need him and-"

"Perhaps you need to stop thinking about yourself and your needs."

"So what," Emma spat, "you just keep him happily ignorant. Move on. Never tell him-"

"I can't-"

"What?"

"Move on," Liam said with a small shrug.

"Why?"

"Because he's my unfinished business. Telling him… But I can't tell him anything now. I will never be free of this place. But perhaps he can be."

"You'd stay here, forever? Just to keep him in the dark?"

"To keep him safe," Liam corrected quietly, "and yes."

Emma gaped, "And is that what he needs? Really? He doesn't even know who he is!"

"But he's safe!"

"He doesn't even know who he is!" she repeated. Liam's jaw clenched and he leaned against the wall. "Please, Liam," Emma begged. "Don't make the same mistake I did. I get it, I really get it. I stole his choice and he hated it and I still don't know if I could bring myself not to do it again. But he needs to choose. He needs to remember." Liam swallowed hard, not meeting her eye. "You said you're trying to keep him safe. But Liam that's … that's not him." She followed Liam's gaze to where Killian sat, alone at the bar, his shoulders curled in on himself as though to protect himself from a blow that was not coming. His eyes are locked on the bartop. There's no spark, no fire. No Killian. You've as good as ended him yourself."

Liam is quiet for a long moment. Without a word to Emma he straightened and walks over towards Killian. He sinks onto the stool next to him and Killian looked up, his face brightening.

"Liam-"

If he let himself, he could almost believe that she was wrong. That this was still Killian.

"Killian, I need to ask you something. The water here, and the food it's not… Killian do you trust me?"

"Of course. You saved me-" Liam smiled slightly. Emma wasn't quite right. This was still Killian. But she wasn't entirely wrong either.

"You saved me first, Killian." Killian looked confused but Liam pushed on. "I need you to throw out that drink."