—Sorry, [Gon says, his tone almost scrambling, and he clutches around his collar, his remiss welling. right, he can't just speak so casually on his own life like that. he knows how it hurts Killua, by now. but...somehow, it's still hard to keep in check.
but if he were to lose Killua to this—would Gon have anything to feel but responsible? how would he be able to cope?
he tries to adjust his meaning—to reconsider it. by saying he doesn't care if Killua kills him—he's better off dead than to survive him in this context. there isn't a better way to put it, so Gon bites his tongue, but he does try to think of another way to convey this. he knows Killua isn't fully lucid—he knows that he may lose him the second he has him, with Killua's clarity at this moment. every move, every word, is a risk—and so too is abandoning Killua, as Killua insists.
and it comes down to this more and more, doesn't it?
Gon refuses to accept that—to accept that the right thing to do, in any of their various contexts, is to abandon the other. even if it results in mutual death, there's no way that's right.]
I won't. You won't, [Gon reassures, and he steps forward hesitantly. he tries not to focus on the way Killua peels at his own flesh like that, nor the abnormal quality of the blood that comes from it. his heart pounds. escalation is all Gon's ever known, so outside of his element here, it's hard to feel confident in his footing. but Gon's never been risk adverse. if this is the risk, so be it.] Listen to me, Killua. Focus on my voice. Focus on our Bond. That feeling.
You're strong. You're so strong—you've endured way worse than this, haven't you? By yourself, even. But I'm here. I'm here for you.
[Gon tries to summon his most recent, happiest feelings with Killua—tries to evoke that echo of that warmth, to keep him grounded through their bond, even if it just twists his heart and makes his eyes mist.]
I'm going to touch your hand.
[Killua may still attack him—Gon accepts that. but maybe if he tells him first, he can actually do it.]
Focus on that feeling, [Gon repeats.] Okay?
[and, gently, Gon does as he warns—he reaches out to brush the rough texture of his palm and the underside of his fingers against Killua's, grip hooking softly around his fingers.
and with his other hand, since Killua's so distracted—Gon takes out his watch, carefully awakening it. his last conversation was with Geralt; understanding the risks of his mission here (the one Geralt specifically forbade him from), Gon's kept it at the ready for access.
to Geralt, he clumsily, with one thumb, as a person without much experience in technology, texts: found kilua, in hll nr main rm.
no subject
but if he were to lose Killua to this—would Gon have anything to feel but responsible? how would he be able to cope?
he tries to adjust his meaning—to reconsider it. by saying he doesn't care if Killua kills him—he's better off dead than to survive him in this context. there isn't a better way to put it, so Gon bites his tongue, but he does try to think of another way to convey this. he knows Killua isn't fully lucid—he knows that he may lose him the second he has him, with Killua's clarity at this moment. every move, every word, is a risk—and so too is abandoning Killua, as Killua insists.
and it comes down to this more and more, doesn't it?
Gon refuses to accept that—to accept that the right thing to do, in any of their various contexts, is to abandon the other. even if it results in mutual death, there's no way that's right.]
I won't. You won't, [Gon reassures, and he steps forward hesitantly. he tries not to focus on the way Killua peels at his own flesh like that, nor the abnormal quality of the blood that comes from it. his heart pounds. escalation is all Gon's ever known, so outside of his element here, it's hard to feel confident in his footing. but Gon's never been risk adverse. if this is the risk, so be it.] Listen to me, Killua. Focus on my voice. Focus on our Bond. That feeling.
You're strong. You're so strong—you've endured way worse than this, haven't you? By yourself, even. But I'm here. I'm here for you.
[Gon tries to summon his most recent, happiest feelings with Killua—tries to evoke that echo of that warmth, to keep him grounded through their bond, even if it just twists his heart and makes his eyes mist.]
I'm going to touch your hand.
[Killua may still attack him—Gon accepts that. but maybe if he tells him first, he can actually do it.]
Focus on that feeling, [Gon repeats.] Okay?
[and, gently, Gon does as he warns—he reaches out to brush the rough texture of his palm and the underside of his fingers against Killua's, grip hooking softly around his fingers.
and with his other hand, since Killua's so distracted—Gon takes out his watch, carefully awakening it. his last conversation was with Geralt; understanding the risks of his mission here (the one Geralt specifically forbade him from), Gon's kept it at the ready for access.
to Geralt, he clumsily, with one thumb, as a person without much experience in technology, texts: found kilua, in hll nr main rm.
pls help]
I'm here because I love you.