[ He has endured. So much more than this, and alone--
But it was easier alone. It was easier when he didn't care. It was easy when all he needed to do was listen to what he was told, carry out his job, be the perfect little prodigy his family wanted him to be so that he could continue waking up every day with nothing in his heart but the desire to kill.
His instincts may be as sharp as ever, his training just as ingrained, muscle-memory drilled in to know exactly how to strike so fast few had even the chance to see it coming, but none of that is the same as desire. He doesn't want to kill. Especially not Gon. ]
G-go... you have to get... out of here.
[ Killua growls between heavy breaths and the dull thud of his head crashing against the wall again, and then again, until the red blossoms like petals on the stone. He feels dizzy, spots dancing black and white across his vision. Good. If he can just knock himself out until-- ]
Khh!
[ Killua's teeth snap together, the taste of metal on the back of his tongue. His eyes water.
But it's not the pain.
The warmth burns in his chest, almost painful. The echoes of the emotions Gon is trying to project catch in his throat. The touch of his hand feels fever-hot, lancing like lightning up his half-numb arm. ]
Gon... Gon, dammit... [ Killua hisses past his clenched teeth, fingers suddenly gripping Gon's hand, hard.
He has to go. Or, at the very least, Killua has to convince Gon he's got to knock him out. It terrifies him, feeling this out of control, even more than the voices clamoring at the edges of his consciousness. After all, logically, Killua knows it's not real, that he's just very sick or cursed or whatever the hell they've done to him. But logic has very little bearing on his actions when he slips.
He opens his mouth again, about to insist, but Gon doesn't let him get a word in. In his own, characteristic way, Gon barrels ahead just as he's always done. Says the first goddamn thing that pops into his stupid head.
Killua's fingers tightening around his hand are going to make Gon's joints creak. ]
no subject
But it was easier alone. It was easier when he didn't care. It was easy when all he needed to do was listen to what he was told, carry out his job, be the perfect little prodigy his family wanted him to be so that he could continue waking up every day with nothing in his heart but the desire to kill.
His instincts may be as sharp as ever, his training just as ingrained, muscle-memory drilled in to know exactly how to strike so fast few had even the chance to see it coming, but none of that is the same as desire. He doesn't want to kill. Especially not Gon. ]
G-go... you have to get... out of here.
[ Killua growls between heavy breaths and the dull thud of his head crashing against the wall again, and then again, until the red blossoms like petals on the stone. He feels dizzy, spots dancing black and white across his vision. Good. If he can just knock himself out until-- ]
Khh!
[ Killua's teeth snap together, the taste of metal on the back of his tongue. His eyes water.
But it's not the pain.
The warmth burns in his chest, almost painful. The echoes of the emotions Gon is trying to project catch in his throat. The touch of his hand feels fever-hot, lancing like lightning up his half-numb arm. ]
Gon... Gon, dammit... [ Killua hisses past his clenched teeth, fingers suddenly gripping Gon's hand, hard.
He has to go. Or, at the very least, Killua has to convince Gon he's got to knock him out. It terrifies him, feeling this out of control, even more than the voices clamoring at the edges of his consciousness. After all, logically, Killua knows it's not real, that he's just very sick or cursed or whatever the hell they've done to him. But logic has very little bearing on his actions when he slips.
He opens his mouth again, about to insist, but Gon doesn't let him get a word in. In his own, characteristic way, Gon barrels ahead just as he's always done. Says the first goddamn thing that pops into his stupid head.
Killua's fingers tightening around his hand are going to make Gon's joints creak. ]
Y-you... what?