Summary: A darker version of events from the Season 4 finale, with expanded scenes and a twist

Rating: M, to be safe

Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT, or the characters, or the locations, but they are fun to play with

Prologue:

The hatch above him opened suddenly, startling him awake. Dim light streamed in from above, the only light he'd seen in days. He squinted, looking up at the two large pirates who made their way down the ladder into the hold. One took out a set of keys and set to work freeing his ankle from the chain that held him firmly imprisoned in the cramped lower section of the ship.

"Ge' up," grunted the other. "Cap'n's waitin' on deck."

Without a word, he slowly rolled over and got to his knees. The pirates roughly grabbed his arms, hauling him to his feet. They half-supported, half-dragged his body through the hatchway above and shoved him through, where he fell with a grunt.

He knew it would only be worse on the way back.

Fear suddenly washed through him in quick waves as he was pulled toward the next ladderway. He knew what was to come, he knew it would be quick, but he couldn't stop the twisting in his gut. After spending the better part of the last three days locked below deck, he could barely see the steps of the ladder in the brilliant sunlight that streamed from above. Legs shaking from both fear and hunger, he carefully climbed upward toward the light.

Once on deck, he wobbled briefly, the strong grip on each of his arms the only thing keeping him upright. When he was able to see again, he looked around, though he knew the sight that would await him. The entire crew was gathered on the main deck, utterly silent as bloodthirsty eyes were trained on his trembling form. The Captain stood on the quarterdeck, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wheel, a slight smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

The pirate on his left grabbed hold of his shirt, roughly pulling it over his head. The two of them dragged him to the mainmast and shoved him, face first, into the wood as they held his arms tight around the wooden beam.

Breathe, he reminded himself, feeling the shaking in his knees start to climb to his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes shut as his arms were pulled just a little bit more to either side. Just breathe, it'll be over soon.

"Well," he heard the Captain begin, his tone light, almost playful. "We all know why we're here, don't we? This is a pirate ship and we all have to do our part. On this ship, we follow orders - my orders. Do we understand?"

Twisting his neck against the force keeping him pinned in place, he opened his eyes briefly and looked back. The Captain grinned at him smugly, then turned to the large man on the main deck.

"Begin."

The man stepped forward, unrolling the long cord of leather he held in his hand.

Just twelve, he reminded himself, breathing deeply as he closed his eyes again, turning back toward the wooden mast. Twelve, and then it's over.

A loud crack resonated across the ship as a line of fire seared into his back. He clenched his jaw, eyes squeezed shut against the flash of pain, determined to stay silent this time. "One," counted the Captain.

Another crack, more fire. He hissed inwardly, every muscle clenching, his neck arching slightly. "Two."

A third. A grunt of pain. Nothing more, he would give them nothing more than that. "Three."

Again. He barely bit back the cry that time. He pressed his lips tighter in anticipation. "Four."

Another blow. Slow breaths. "Five."

And another. Halfway there. Just hold on. "Six."

And another. He could already feel the hot trails of blood running down his back. "Seven."

Crack. Breathe! "Eight."

The next one came at a different angle, crossing lines already cut in his flesh. This time, he couldn't hold back, crying out as the pain overtook him. As he drew in a ragged breath, he could hear the smile in the Captain's voice. "Nine."

Again. He screamed, not bothering to hold back his pain back any longer. "Ten."

Again. He had already broken, years ago. "Eleven."

Last one. Why keep playing the game, pretending he was stronger than he really was? "Twelve."

The Captain's boots echoed on the wooden deck as he headed toward his cabin. "Take him back to the hold until tomorrow. And let that be a lesson to all you lazy bilge rats." The rest of the sailors scattered, the silence broken by the familiar sounds of a busy ship.

He sagged against the mast, breaths coming in short pants. His back burned with each breath he took, fire raging from his waist to his neck. The pressure on his arms eased, he collapsed to his knees, neck bent, exhausted. He felt rough hands forcing his shirt over his head and arms, vaguely recalling how much he hated it when the blood dried to the fabric and plastered the cloth to his back, but he was too weak to do anything but allow his limbs to be manipulated. A calloused hand pushed a well-worn canteen in his face. Trembling, he reached up and took a long drink, the cool water running down the sides of his neck as he tried to swallow as much as he could before it was wrenched from his grasp.

The same two pirates grasped his upper arms again and hauled him to his feet. He groaned softly, darkness hovering around the edges of his vision, as they pushed him back down the ladderway and toward the hold opening. He didn't remember climbing down the second ladder, just the sudden impact with the floor as he tried to land on his side, his stomach, anywhere but his freshly battered back. He felt the coolness of the hull against his cheek, contrasting with the heat radiating from his painful wounds. Dimly, he could feel the chain being refastened around his leg, hear the men climb back up the ladder, and the slam of the door behind them.

Only then did Killian Jones allowed himself to slip fully into the darkness.