Title: Chaos and Ruin
Rating: T (for the moment - could possibly change to M later depending on where the story goes. We'll see)
Disclaimer: Don't own HunterXHunter - just borrowing the characters and putting them in my AU scenario
Summary: The Spider Troupe. On the surface they were allies to the people. It was only after they organized the overthrow of our country's government did we realize that they wanted nothing more than anarchy.
Pairings: Eventual Leorio/Kurapika.
Chapter 1
Our country was what you would call a military state, led by a small council of government officials. Their names, their statuses, their previous actions didn't matter anymore. What matters is that a large, heavily populated and ultimately poor country was ruled by an elite few, each with more money than the entire population combined. The poor remained poor, stuck in their slums with no chance at breaking free except if they joined the military (which really did nothing to improve their lives in the long run, most returning from some war or another with injuries, psychological trauma, and not enough salary to pay for the required treatment), and the rich got richer off of the unreasonable taxes they'd implemented on the poor. Living comfortably was made impossible – everyone worried about the basics: staying fed, staying healthy, staying sheltered from the constant cold that plagued our country. There was unrest, riots, and protests (of both the violent and non-violent varieties).
And then came the Spider Troupe…
On the surface they were allies to the people – it was only after they organized the overthrow of our country's government did we realize that they wanted nothing more than pure anarchy. After the massacre in the Capitol of all council members and their families, the whole country went berserk. Riots broke out everywhere – especially in areas near military bases. Looting, deaths, rape, murder – all of society's darker attributes came forward all at once. All forms of law enforcement – be them actual military soldiers or just local policemen – were the first to receive the wrath of the rioting mob. It took a mere two days for the entire country to collapse into primal lawlessness, and I, along with my three other companions, was stuck in the middle of it all.
It was instinctual. My entire neighborhood had gone up in flame. Everything I had ever owned was now in the process of becoming ash and ember, and while in my shocked and witless state, I heard the word "shelter". I walked six miles with my black and red checkered briefcase (the last of my worldly possessions, and probably my most valuable considering the circumstances) hugged tightly to my chest, completely zoned out as I shuffled along. My mind registered nothing but the smell of terrible smoke and a whispered command coming from deep within my psyche to find other people. Safety in numbers, the little whisper assured me as I was herded into the old high school gymnasium that was currently set up as a relief shelter.
Bodies jostled all around me – pushing me, guiding me where I needed to go. Everything there was ramshackle, thrown together as soon as my small town's emergency siren had gone off. The high ceilinged gym that had been abandoned for the past decade or so due to lack of funding, was filled with sound and smell and shuffling, confused bodies like myself. Voices were crying, shouting, whispering, murmuring. The air smelled of blood and sweat and smoke. Predominantly smoke. It seemed to cling to my clothes and skin, a depressing souvenir from the pyre of flame I had left behind.
It was all overwhelming, and any moment now I was expecting my heart to just explode from the surge of grief and loss and pain that had yet to hit me. I knew it was coming – I could see it building up inside of me, a massive tidal wave slowly building up along the horizon, but even though I knew it was coming closer it still looked so far away. The anxiety of waiting for it to hit was already wracking through my insides.
The flow of bodies eventually sped me past a few military men who looked just as lost and confused as the rest of us, and towards a corner of the gymnasium where a cluster of cots had been set up in no perceivable order. All of the cots were occupied by at least two or more people trying to sit somewhere other than the floor, but even so, the walls were lined with people. People lying, people crouching, people sitting – everywhere I looked there were bodies. I carefully stepped in gaps between my fellow refugees, some holding more belongings than I'd been able to make off with from my burning home and others with absolutely nothing but their lives and the clothes on their backs.
I spotted an opening on the edge of a cot next to a young woman with a baby held to her breast, but tapped the shoulder of an old man in front of me and directed him towards it. The cots looked just about as comfortable as the floor anyhow.
I found an opening on the floor eventually and plopped myself down so that I was sitting Indian-style, my arms still clutched around my briefcase. I let out a deep sigh and hunched forward, trying to relax my stiff and aching muscles. I rolled my neck and felt a satisfying pop as one of the kinks worked itself out. Despite everything, a smile came to my lips at the small feeling of release. I rolled my neck in the other direction, but that first singular pop had been it.
I eyed my surroundings, but saw nothing except distraught faces, and bodies covered with ash and dirt – and then I saw a boy sitting ahead of me, blood running down from a wound directly centered on his forehead and yellow amber eyes shining brightly as he looked around. He was covered in filth of the ash variety and the pure thought of it getting into his cut and getting infected drove me to flag him down.
"Hey kid," I called out over the steady static of sound that filled the place.
His bright amber eyes seemed to land on me the moment I had spoken.
"Come here for a sec," I said with a quick beckoning motion of my hand before I laid my briefcase out on my lap and released its latches.
He cocked his head in question but came closer anyways.
I rummaged through the usually neat contents of my briefcase and found what I was looking for. As the boy squeezed himself into a gap right in front of me, I doused a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol, "Let me look at that cut."
"Okay," he said almost cheerily. There was something else hiding there in his happy voice, but I figured that whatever it was, there were plenty of valid reasons for it to be there. It wasn't my business; I just needed something to do.
I dabbed away at the spot, clearing away blood and dirt from the wound. One of his eyes cringed for a split second in reaction to the sting of the chemical, but that was enough for me to see that it was doing its job and killing any germs that had wriggled their way into his cut.
The wound itself wasn't very serious. The amount of blood that had flowed from it down onto his face had over exaggerated the minor cut the boy had gotten.
"All the blood made it look a lot more serious than it was," I told the boy. I found a large Band-Aid in my case and stuck it over the cut that was starting to seep blood again thanks to my rough cleaning.
"Thanks," the boy smiled, "I'm Gon."
"Leorio," I nodded.
He looked like he was about to say something when his eyes darted quickly to something behind me.
"Excuse me, but, are you a doctor?" A quiet voice asked mildly from behind me.
"Well, sort of," I replied as I turned around to see who was questioning me.
My breath got caught in my chest when I saw the one who'd spoken. It was a beautiful…person. They had ambiguous good looks – strong and sharp facial features, intimidating grey eyes, straight and short blonde hair (which was rare in this country unless it was bleached) that came down to their jaw line. Whether male or female it was impossible to tell – their figure was flat in the chest, but that didn't strictly mean they were a guy, and their figure was hidden by a baggy blue poncho that was pretty clean compared to the rest of the bodies in here.
"Sort of?" the blonde…person groaned, "Well, can you do anything about this?" They pulled the neckline of their poncho over towards the left shoulder and revealed a bloody looking gash on their stark-white skin.
"Shit," I swore under my breath, "Yeah – what happened?"
"A bullet grazed me – it didn't hurt too badly so it must not have hit anything important," the blonde said calmly.
"Scooch over kid," I said with a quick shooing motion.
The kid – Gon, he'd said – scooted over a bit in the space that our other neighbors had created upon seeing the bleeding blonde, and continued to watch with his wide eyes. He seemed to be absorbing everything through those amber orbs of his, and that thought gave me a weird feeling in my gut.
I patted the now-empty floor in front of me and got up onto my knees. I set my briefcase down beside me and pulled out the bottle of rubbing alcohol.
The blonde took off the blue poncho and set it on the floor for something a little softer than grimy tiles to kneel on. The white long-sleeved shirt they had on underneath the poncho was soaked along the left-side with blood. Once they sat down I was about to pull on the shirt's neckline and pull it down past the wounded shoulder when the blonde just pulled it off over their head.
The question was gone now that I was staring at a completely flat and well-toned chest, stained and smeared with crimson. My bleeding beauty was unmistakably male. I felt the disappointment in the general area around us – we'd gathered quite a few onlookers – but even if he wasn't a pretty girl who'd just taken her top off, as I'm sure some of the fellows nearby had thought when the guy had started stripping, he was still absolutely attractive.
But I had more important matters to think about at that moment.
With his wound completely exposed, I poured some of the alcohol over it and dabbed away at the surrounding area to clean off some of the blood so I could get a better look at what I was dealing with. He made a sound deep in his throat, but didn't jerk away. The blonde just clutched at his left arm with a tight grip and breathed deeply.
"Okay so…" I started once I'd made a quick assessment of his injury. "It bled quite a bit, but it really was just a graze so you should heal up fine. It would be best if I made a few stitches, just so it'll heal quicker with less chances of infection." I wiped at more blood that was starting to seep from the gash with a few tissues from my briefcase and looked up at the blonde's face.
He seemed wary about me taking a needle to his arm for a second, but he quickly consented with a nod.
I got out the special hook-like needle used for stitching people up and pulled it out of its sterile packaging, along with the medical thread I had on hand. I doused the thread in the alcohol, and after threading it through the needle and knotting the end I brought my steady hands to his shoulder.
"It'll probably sting and pinch a little, but once it's bandaged up it won't hurt so badly," I told him conversationally.
He nodded again and kept his eyes trained on my hands. He didn't look away as I pushed the edges of his wound together and started sewing him up. A few of our neighbors in the area made gagging sounds and looked away, but I could still feel Gon's eyes on the two of us.
"So why are you 'sort-of' a doctor?" the blonde asked, his voice thick as he tried to endure the feeling of the needle going through his skin.
"Well, it takes quite a bit of time and money to be a certified doctor – and seeing as I'm only twenty and dirt poor it's a little out of my league at the moment," I answered.
The blonde's eyes quickly snapped up at me, his previously emotionless face finally showing something…confusion. "You're only twenty?"
I narrowed my eyes but kept them on the needle, "Of course I am."
"You look like you're in your thirties…"
"I don't look that old! Christ, I'm not even old enough to drink yet," I muttered bitterly under my breath.
"You don't look that old to me," a younger voice replied. It was that Gon kid, sounding like he was enjoying himself a little too much.
"Oh shut up both of you and let me finish stitching up pretty boy here in peace," I grumbled.
The blonde stiffened at my words, "Don't call me that."
"That's what you get for calling me old," I quipped.
Gon started laughing at this point and I just did my best to tune him out. I eventually got the ambiguous blonde boy all stitched up and after dabbing at the site with an alcohol soaked cotton ball I started wrapping some gauze bandages around it.
"There," I said sounding a little more bitter than I'd intended, "All closed up now."
The blonde looked down at his bandaged shoulder and gave me a stiff, "Thank-you."
"You're welcome."
The kid chimed in again, "So what's your name? I'm Gon and he's Leorio." He introduced as if he and I had known each other for longer than a few minutes.
He looked over at the kid and his face softened a little bit. "I'm Kurapika."
I let out a deep breath and started rearranging the contents of my briefcase – aside from getting a little worked up about being called old, I still felt numb.
"This is just crazy," I heard myself mutter. I wasn't even sure why I said it – it's not like it was much of an original thought. Everyone in that gymnasium was probably thinking the same thing if they hadn't already voiced it in some form or another.
I could feel it coming – that tidal wave of the day's events careening towards me. It was getting closer, closing the distance between itself and me. I knew I was overdue for a breakdown, but this was going to be bad.
I looked up at the two strangers I'd just patched up and then the rest of the unfamiliar faces that surrounded me. What the hell was supposed to happen now? Were we just supposed to wait here? For what? The military base just outside of town had been the first thing to go up in flames – and then the rioters had spread throughout the village. They had once been fellow citizens of this country, but they'd transformed into something else. Something inhuman.
The news of the massacre at the Capitol had spread at an alarming rate. There had been a broadcast made from the scene by one of the Spider Troupe members. His face was masked, but you could hear the ear-to-ear grin he was sporting in the way he spoke. Oh he sounded downright elated to be giving our country the news of our counsel's demise. To be sharing the details of how their entire bloodline had been slaughtered, children and all. To be calling out at the hungry and scared masses to seize their freedom, to finally do as they pleased and not as they were told.
The broadcast had only been on for five minutes that morning. From 9:23 to 9:38. And then it was just gone and the people took to the streets. Anyone who hadn't seen the broadcast sure found out about it quickly. That was how it happened in my town, and I was sure that's how it happened all across the country.
And then, somehow, a mob formed in the town center and they stormed the military base.
All I'd been able to do was watch it all happen from my porch steps as the people I'd grown up with and around raised up make shift weapons and cried out for blood. I'd been one of those to actually see the broadcast, to hear first-hand how an entire city had been brutally wiped out by a mere handful of people, and to literally see the blood and dead bodies in the street behind the masked man who had been behind it all. It didn't make me want to tear down what remained of the establishment – it just made me feel like throwing up everything I've ever eaten.
Fingers snapping in front of my face brought me out of my recollections. I scowled and asked sharply, "What?!"
The blonde just narrowed his eyes right back at me, "I tried getting your attention politely, but you were zoned out."
I grumbled nonsense under my breath. "Well, what did you want."
"Directions. A map would be great but I'm assuming that wasn't on many people's lists of things to salvage."
"Where are you headed?" Gon asked. If he wasn't a part of the conversation, he was now. I waited for the ambiguous blonde to answer because in order to give directions, I had to know the answer to the boy's question.
The corner of Kurapika's mouth twitched downward for a second before he answered. "I'm trying to reach the Capitol."
I wasn't so much shocked at his answer than confused. Why bother going there? Other than looting the rich estates of the slaughtered council members, no other reasonable explanation came to my mind.
But it was none of my business.
"You must not be from the country then," I remarked, "We have a saying here. 'All roads lead to the Capitol'. It's got a few metaphorical meanings attached to it, but it's also pretty true direction-wise. Just go north on the main road that cuts through this town and you'll eventually get there."
"I didn't know we had a saying…" Gon added with his head cocked to one side, as if the angle would help him remember whether or not he'd heard the phrase before.
I sighed and rested my chin in the open palm of my hand, "Yes kid, there's a saying, not that it matters much anymore, what with the government being out of order and all."
"How long is eventually?" the blonde asked, his face less stiff now, though still pretty emotionless.
"It's a big country. Two days if you want to drive non-stop. Probably a few weeks if you're trekking the whole way there. You could probably score a vehicle from the military base if they're not all destroyed, but with the way things are right now, I wouldn't suggest it – anyone sees a military truck driving, they'll most likely attack you."
His eyebrows creased a little, but not necessarily out of anger, "And there aren't any other cars in this whole town?"
I shook my head. "Nope. We're a border town – mostly field workers. Couldn't afford a car even if we saved up for our whole lives. You might find one eventually, the further north you get, but who knows the condition they'd be in." And with his gender-fluid looks, he would probably be in more trouble than the average guy.
The corner of his mouth twitched downward again. "That is unfortunate," he said quietly.
It felt more like an out-loud thought of his, but for some reason I responded with a sarcastic, "You picked a helluva place to vacation."
He immediately sent me a feisty look, which I have to say was fucking terrifying, but before he could start to lash out at me with either words or fists for my snarky comment there was a commotion at the door.
I never saw what was happening but I heard it. There was loud shouting somewhere in the distance and the sea of people packed into this dilapidated gym made waves of murmurs that fanned out through the whole building. There was a strange sensation of movement that followed, as if the entire group of refugees had all tensed up all at once.
Gon was suddenly on his feet, holding the straps of his backpack with a tight grip. "We need to get out of here," he said in an eerie calm voice. He no longer looked amused, but rather knowing.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I managed to get my lanky legs to support my tired weight once again. "That is a good idea," I replied. Besides the front entrance, the only other door out was a set of double doors…but as I spotted them on the wall closest to us I could see that they were chained closed.
If the lock was as old and beaten as this building was, then maybe it would be possible to break it.
I pointed towards it. "That's the only other door." Gon took off for it immediately, darting and weaving through people all slick and gracefully, leaving me to fumble after him trying my hardest not to step on the people below me.
Being so tall wasn't always a blessing.
I wasn't aware that Kurapika was following me until I reached the door and Gon. The blonde suddenly appeared at my side like a ghost, still looking a little peeved at me, but overall more concerned with the situation.
It had worsened and I feared that next would come gunfire.
I couldn't hear the actual argument that had started at the entrance, but it was loud and heated and hateful. I could feel the darkness in their voices and I was absolutely sure one of the arguers was one of the military boys I'd passed on the way inside.
Gon tugged at the chains around the door handles and then looked up at me, "I don't know how to pick a lock."
"Neither do I, but the padlock should be easy to break. It's probably cheap and rusted – just needs a good kick or two…I hope." I set my briefcase down by the blonde's feet and approached the door.
"That is very comforting," Kurapika said in a deadpan voice.
I ignored his remark for the moment and shooed Gon out of the way. I yanked on the chains until the thick, partially rusted padlock was isolated and hanging lower than the chains that wrapped a few times around the double doors' push-handles.
I braced myself against the door and brought my foot up and back down again onto the lock with as much force as I could.
It made a loud clanging sound that echoed out through the room, turning heads our way.
I clicked my tongue and steadied the lock so I could try again.
The murmurs in the room were progressively rising.
I brought my foot down hard on the lock once again. I thought for a moment it had given way and snapped apart, but no. It was still stubbornly doing its job.
I swore and steadied the lock again.
"Let me try," Kurapika stepped forward.
The eloquent phrase of Fuck off was right on the tip of my tongue when the unmistakable sound of a gunshot rang out. For a split second everything got quiet and still…
And then everything descended into chaos.
Screams, cries, scrambling bodies. Everyone in the area had started to flee like spooked cattle. More gunshots. Louder screams. People were herding towards us and the door.
The blonde gave a heavy kick to the pad lock and it fell to the floor. The horde was upon us in seconds and instinctively I grabbed Gon by the backpack and pulled him in front of me and braced myself against the door to keep him from getting trampled or lost in the thrashing ocean of people. I wasn't aware of much except for the fact that the doors were finally starting to push forward as the chain around the door handles began to unravel.
And then they suddenly gave way.
I nearly tripped over Gon when they did, but I managed to keep my balance and not step on the boy. The crowd pushed and consumed the both of us, but I kept my grip on the boy's backpack, making sure that he didn't somehow slip out of it.
Even after making it back outside into the muddy slush that was leftover from yesterday's light snowfall, there were people still packed around us, all trying to flee the gun fight in what had been our refuge and get as far away as possible. I was trying to wriggle a pathway through the crowd to the edge, when suddenly a pale hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed the wrist of my arm that wasn't currently keeping Gon from becoming a victim of the mob.
Kurapika managed to weave through the panicked rabble, pulling me and therefore Gon along after him. My gangly body made this a little difficult, and the blonde almost lost his grip on me a few times, but after what seemed an impossible amount of time spent amongst the desperate throngs of people, we managed to squeeze out of it and into a lightly wooded area to recuperate. I had a mini-panic attack when I realized I didn't have my briefcase – but then I saw the checkered object in one of the blonde's hands and figured he must have grabbed it before the herd had converged on us.
I sank down against the trunk of a pine tree where the ground had been kept dry and snow-free by the boughs. I could finally breathe freely now that I wasn't being crushed from all sides. It was refreshing.
Gon had let himself plop down in a particularly mushy looking bank of half-melted snow and Kurapika just crossed his arms over his narrow chest after having set my briefcase on the ground. I caught the blonde cringe and figured it must have been his stitches reminding him that he was still injured.
"Anyone hurt?" I asked, still feeling slightly out of breath and completely drained.
Gon replied, "Nope," from his damp clump of ground and Kurapika just shook his head.
I sighed and let my head lean back against the tree's rough bark. "That's good." I'd been slightly worried about ricochet bullets and more severely worried about someone getting trampled.
Gon suddenly sat back up, some of the ash on his face starting to run thanks to sweat and snow moisture. "Thanks for helping me guys," he smiled widely, "That was crazy."
I gave a small snort of laughter, "No problem kid, but we're probably not too safe here either."
He pointed behind him, "We should go that way – around the gym and past it a little. Not many people went that direction."
"That sounds like a good idea to me," Kurapika stated.
I stood back up and dusted off the seat of my pants. "Lets go then."
Gon grinned and got up, not caring in the slightest that his whole backside was marked with damp spots even though it was still early January and very cold. He led the way deeper through the woods.
Kurapika silently handed me my briefcase and took off after him, leaving me to bring up the rear. I don't really think any of us had a particular reason for sticking together – I didn't anyways – but it felt natural somehow. It was probably just the shock and adrenaline still plaguing my mind and body, but it still felt like we were trying to escape something and again the little voice in my head whispered, safety in numbers.
A/N: I've always been pretty fascinated by Leorio's character and I felt that the story would best be told through his POV. Some people don't much like first person perspective stories, but hopefully this one will be an exception. I'll probably switch between other people's POV's as well for some variety, but only Leorio's will be written in first person.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed it.
Reviews are much appreciated *wink wink*