Chapter Text
Killua’s feet couldn’t have carried him any faster if he tried as he sprinted through the thick brush. Gon had gone to fight Pitou alone. The sickening feeling within him made him queasy but he needed to tough it out just until he got there. Gon could be in trouble right now and any moment wasted would be a moment that could have been crucial in the fight. His mind began to race at anything and everything that could be going wrong, countless possibilities swarming around in his mind. Had Pitou kidnapped him? Had Pitou healed then killed Kite? Was Gon actually holding his own against Pitou when Kite failed? Was Kite revived and helping him?
Nothing would have prepared him for the actual result.
Killua froze.
Pitou’s lifeless body lay crumpled up on the ground, the clear loser of a battle well fought. But to call it a battle was one thing, this was a clear massacre. Killua’s eyes slowly focused on the elephant in the clearing, the one thing that made this whole situation feel uneasy and wrong.
Standing before him was a man. No, to call him that would have been too much. He was clearly grown, from head to toe bulked with muscle upon muscle, but Killua knew deep down that this was more than that. Those clothes, that posture, the hair….
“Gon,” Killua croaked out. He felt his breath leave his mouth, lungs expecting a breath in yet not receiving one. “Is that you?”
He didn’t want to believe it, he didn’t want to look at it, but as the figure turned around there was no mistaking that those amber eyes belonged to Gon. He couldn’t look away no matter how hard he willed himself to.
Scared.
Gon looked scared.
Killua tensed up. What had Gon done to himself? How had he ended up like this?
Was it a transformation like Bisky? No, Bisky’s appearance was a lot different, she was using hers to mask her power, but judging from the sheer amount of aura Gon was emitting, this was something completely different. Where was it coming from? Why did it feel so desperate? Was it an effect of Pitou’s nen? Likely not, he had spotted Pitou’s dead lifeless body against the tree trunk covered in a oozing blue blood. But then it hit him. Killua’s bottom lip quivered as he suddenly realized what was going on. Gon had made a nen vow.
“Killua…”
But what kind of vow would let him do this? Killua’s eyes widened as his mind raced with possibilities. In order for Gon to obtain more aura he would have needed to trade something in, yet there wasn’t anything he possessed that would give him that much power. Unless…. Had he traded with his future self? How many years of nonstop training would it take to bring him to his current position? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? More than that? Was it a lifetime of every moment spent training? Killua grimaced as he looked at his dear friend, a streamline of tears running down each cheek.
And what the fuck did he have to be sorry for? What was this? Killua had no idea what this was, and it was scaring him. Just what had Gon traded to obtain this form? Did he have nothing left? Had he given everything up just for one battle? Was this really worth it? Was this all for Kite?
Too focused on Gon until it was too late, Killua noticed a rustling behind him. Had Gon not fully decimated Pitou? He saw the body on the way over here, Pitou was desecrated. But he didn’t have time to think about that right now. Gon was in danger, and he could stop it.
Killua lept forward.
It was a hasty move; but right now all he needed was to make sure Gon was okay. Stupid, if he hadn’t been here to distract him Gon would have been paying attention to the rest of the fight. Gon wouldn’t be getting attacked from behind right now. He needed to protect him. He was Gon, he was his friend, he was his everything, and nothing, not even Pitou could take that away from him if he could help it.
Killua felt his hands collide with unfamiliar muscles and immediately felt out of his element. This was Gon, there was no doubt about that, but the foreignness of it all was unsettling. But he would protect him nonetheless. He had to.
The sharp claws claimed his arm, stealing it clean off as Killua held on tightly to Gon. The two of them looked over in horror as the arm fell to the ground. Killua’s hands started to shake, but he gripped his palms tightly. This was not the time for nerves.
“It’s okay.”
Killua looked over at Gon, watching in horror as spurts of scarlet blood peppered out of the wound. This was not okay. This was definitely not okay. How could Gon think this was okay? How was this possible?
“It doesn’t hurt”
He was saying it for someone’s behalf, but for who? Was it a promise to Killua that he knew what he was doing? Or was he trying to convince himself that he wasn’t hurting anymore, that he could finish what he’d started. Killua felt a lump form in his throat. Or was it some sort of fucked up mental promise to Kite.
“I’m not trying to be tough”
“I’m kind of happy…. I finally get to be the same as Kite was then”
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.
“I feel like I’ve been redeemed some”
Gon thrust his severed arm into Pitou’s decapitated body, pinning them to the ground. Their arms and legs twitched as Gon stood back up. But his expression was all Killua needed to see to know that this wasn’t over. The worst was yet to come.
“First comes rock”
Gon. Killua wanted to shout but he felt frozen in that instance, helpless, unable to do anything. Stupid body, he needed to move, he needed to shout, he needed to do something otherwise he wouldn’t be able to stop Gon from throwing away what little left he had. He needed to stop, who knew what would happen if he kept using that power? Would he even make it out of the battle alive? Could he? Was that even possible at this rate?
“Rock”
No.
“Paper”
NO!
“Gon!”
It was a scream like no other Killua had done before, filled with every emotion he had been brewing during the confrontation. His throat was sore; his breaths were shallow; his heart was beating fast enough to burst out of his chest but he felt nothing but numbness the second he saw Gon, slowly turn around, with a look on his face so terrified that it scared Killua himself.
Then, an explosion.
Killua shielded his face, desperately not wanting to look away but his arms moved faster than he could force them down, wind at speeds he never thought he’d encounter pummeling into his forearms and chest over and over again, thrusting him out of the way as if to tell him that he didn’t belong here, that he wasn’t supposed to be here, that this wasn’t for him. And maybe it wasn’t. Maybe Gon didn’t want him here. Maybe Gon just wanted to throw his entire life away in a fit of rage so explosive that it took out half the forest with him.
But that was Gon’s problem.
He didn’t know when to give it up.
He was always like that; from the moment Killua knew him, Gon’s determination was his strength and his downfall. The lengths he would go to prove a point proved that he had little regard for his own wellbeing to the point that this shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was to him, it just fit in with everything he knew beforehand. Gon was stubborn. He was ambitious. But caring for someone who didn’t care for themself was the hardest thing Killua had done in his life.
The dust began to settle; Killua rushed forwards, searching for what he knew to be Gon’s body. The possibility of Gon emerging victorious from that explosion were slim to none and Killua didn’t dare break his heart by even assuming that would be the case, he didn’t deserve to do that to himself, not after that happened.
Everything had been going so smoothly in the invasion, everything had boiled down to this one moment, before everything had just turned to shit and now nothing was going to be the same. His heart ached, it yearned for something much more than this, this couldn’t be the end of Gon, he couldn’t have failed this badly. Killua could only imagine what had driven him to this, yet
All that mattered right now was Gon. Killua brushed some of the hair out of his face, looking down at Gon’s wilted lifeless body. He looked so small and fragile compared to how he was earlier, as if every living force had been sucked dry right out of him. Killua cradled his body close to his chest.
Gon.
Gon.
He felt like his psyche was trying to tear him apart. Even now, with Gon’s broken body pressed tightly against him, he couldn’t accept his friend’s fate. There was nothing about this that felt right, that felt natural, that felt like it should have come to this conclusion. And if he could do it all again, he would. He’d try to stop him, he’d protect him from Pitou, he’d do everything in his power to make sure that Gon wouldn’t have to go through the pain he went through now, because no one deserves to go through the shit and the feelings that Gon had.
“Gon,” sobbed Killua, hoisting himself up over his shoulder. He needed to get him to a hospital. Part of him didn’t want to accept that hospitals were for living people but he didn’t need to worry about that now. Nothing made sense to him. Killua felt the leaves and twigs pull on his clothes and skin as he rushed through the forest, not caring about any obstacle in his path. Every step he took felt heavier and heavier, weighted down by not just Gon but his own conscience.
Killua ran faster, and faster, feet pounding against the ground as the electricity started to crackle around him. Did he even have enough charge left to help boost him to the hospital? The thought crossed his mind briefly and just as suddenly it was gone. This was no time for rational thoughts. Nothing about what happened was rational.
If only he could save him. If only there was a way to have prevented this from happening. If only he wasn’t useless. If only he wasn’t too late. If only he had just been there for him, if only he understood what was happening and talked him out of it. If only he could do something, anything, anything at all differently that could help. If only, if only, if only if only if only if only-
He would do it. Whatever it took.
The world around him began to blur, all the dark hues from the forest, the soft light from the moon, the bright crackles of electricity surrounding him. Like a patchwork that was taken apart and resewn together, the world felt like it was changing. His footsteps were lighter. The weight on his shoulder from carrying Gon began to lessen until it felt like it was pulling upwards on him closer to the ever consistent beam of moonlight above him. Pulling, and pulling, and prompting him to let go, not seeming to realize that Killua would never let go of Gon, he couldn’t.
And suddenly he was slowing down, like the air around him had suddenly become a thick molasses that he was swimming through standing up. The weightlessness was gone. The world around him was nothing more than a jumble of images that probably made up some sort of picture if he were to slow down and piece together what it all meant but none of that was important right now. There was only one thing that was important right now.
Everything went black.
Had he passed out? What was going to happen to Gon? Would anyone even find his body? Was Palm still watching? Would Palm hate him even more for everything that happened to Gon? No, forget Palm, what about everyone else. Had they even survived the final battles? Did they win? Were Chimera Ants going to run the world now? Everything could have turned to shit, maybe they could have used his help back there, Gon clearly defeated Pitou on his own.
Killua felt an overwhelming dizziness wash over him. Wait. Dizziness. That was a feeling. A sensation of sorts. He wasn’t dead, just….
“Killua?”
Gon.
Killua opened his eyes quicker than he ever had before, whole body turning to face the direction his friend’s voice came from.
Gon was okay. He was here, present in the room. His hair was short, his limbs were attached, and most of all, he had a determined look on his face. It was a familiar sight. Killua rubbed his eyes. He looked down at his hands. It didn’t take long to realize he was at full charge. Killua looked around the room of Knov’s apartment. Everyone was in their positions from beforehand. Oh no. A realization dawned on him. Everything was directly in place at the beginning of the palace invasion, as if it never happened.