"Leorio!"
A hand on his shoulder, shaking roughly.
"Leorio, come on! You have to wake up! Leorio! Leorio, please!"
Fuck, fuck, fine, he's waking up, okay? Damn! A little patience would be great, Leorio thinks before the reality of what's actually happening hits him. He struggles upright, uncoordinated as he pulls the comforter from his flailing arms, and Leorio squints at Gon in the relative dimness of the hotel room. And he sees. Tears, streaking down Gon's cheeks, his mouth curved into a distressed bow, and Leorio reaches out to – to grab him, ground him, somehow calm the frenetic energy jolting through Gon's frame. "What? Gon, what's-"
"He's gone," Gon sobs. "Killua isn't here. He left and I don't know- I don't know what to do or where he went or how long he's been gone, but Leorio, Killua's gone!"
And Leorio looks over the room. There is one less bag, Killua's backpack conspicuously missing in the midst of everyone else's belongings. He himself is nowhere to be found. According to the clock by the bedside, it's barely even ten in the morning, and Leorio had talked to him last about seven hours ago and shit, Leorio had just left him there alone while Killua probably talked himself into leaving. Fuck. A white static crashes through Leorio's body. He is subsumed by it, gigantic and overwhelming as it lights up every nook and cranny, because this?
This is all his fault.
Leorio sat by and let Killua go back to an abusive household and he could have stopped it from happening if he had just fucking been paying attention to something else besides his own heartache for two goddamned seconds.
Fuck.
Frantic searching turns up nothing. There's no sign of Killua. The front desk can confirm that one of them saw him leave, but they don't remember when or what direction they took. (They also, helpfully, remind Leorio that he has to check out by eleven today, because why the fuck not have that on top of everything too? Hotel staff: super helpful at the best times, full sarcasm.)
As Kurapika helps them look, Gon tries calling Killua's phone.
And again, when it rings to voicemail.
And again, when he gets cut off.
That, finally, cuts Gon's strings. He sits on the edge of the bed, staring down, numb, eyes distant, until Leorio comes over and sits next to him, slowly rubbing his back. "Hey kid," Leorio says, gentle, as gentle as he can manage past the panic still clogging him, "What'cha thinking?"
Gon shakes his head. "I don't know. I just don't know what to do."
"What do you want to do?" Leorio asks. He doesn't stop rubbing Gon's back. The repetitive motion serves a dual purpose of calming the both of them down, grounding Leorio so he doesn't get up and start pacing through this. Again.
"I-" Gon cuts himself off, shaking his head as he draws his knees up, hugging them to his chest. "I don't want Killua to go home."
A snort from Kurapika. "Little late for that."
Leorio snaps a glare up at him and is viciously satisfied to see Kurapika already looking ashamed of himself, mouth twisted to the side.
"I can't leave him there," Gon says into the space between his legs. "I can't leave him there, not with how his family treats him, Leorio."
Kurapika makes a noise that Leorio isn't sure how to classify, his arms pressed tight against his chest, stiff and uncomfortable. "Apparently, Killua is willing to risk it for his sister."
Gon lifts his face from the safe haven of his arms, tear-soaked and red. "Then I'm not leaving her there either."
Leorio opens his mouth, takes a good long look at the determination on Gon's face, then sighs. "I can't believe I'm going to end up going to jail for kidnapping two minors before I even get into med school."
"Give yourself some credit," Kurapika interjects. Leorio is about to get angry at him when he recognizes the faint trace of wry humor around Kurapika's words. Teasing this time, then. "You have gotten into medical school. You just haven't started attending yet. Completely different. Still kidnapping though."
"So we're going after him then?"
Gon nods. Then frowns. "I mean, if you two wanted to go somewhere else, that'd be fine. I'm not coming back without Killua, but-"
"Nope, nope, not happening." Even the idea is completely ludicrous. The denial comes instinctively from a place deep inside Leorio without even a moment of hesitation. Leorio reaches over, scruffling Gon's hair until it's a mess. Well, more of a mess than usual. "No way in hell am I letting you take the Greyhound alone to Killua's family's probable murderhouse."
"Killua took it and was just fine."
"Killua's family runs a murderhouse, so it's whatever for him." Leorio waves off both Gon and Kurapika's worried and exasperated (respectively) expressions. Then he grasps Gon firmly by the shoulders, hunching just a bit to look Gon directly in the eyes before asking seriously, "Look, okay, do you have his address?"
"Y-Yeah?"
"Then we go after him, just like you want to. End of story, little cousin."
Kurapika chooses that moment, when Leorio has finally begun to clear the lingering panicked air around Gon and he starts relaxing, to say, "Even if he doesn't want to be found? Or brought back? It was his own choice to leave, you know."
Oh for fuck's sake. What the hell crawled up Kurapika's ass and died today? Leorio doesn't give himself time to second guess his words, the rush of anger too sudden to do anything except weather it. "Well, if you're fine leaving a kid to the hands of his stalker-abusive family, by all means, I can leave you enough money to get yourself a flight home."
And there's that out in the open too.
The option for Kurapika to just... leave, and Leorio just threw it out like it doesn't mean anything, like he isn't afraid to come back to Mito's house and find it empty of Kurapika's presence, to be drifting and more distant, passing silently at the campus except to make awkward eye contact. The option, right here and now, to leave and let Leorio know that his affections can be scabbed over in Kurapika's absence.
Kurapika, surprisingly, looks shocked at the offer, and he shakes his head jerkily after a moment. "No, that's-."
Nothing Leorio really wants to hear right now. He jerks his chin roughly at Kurapika's bag. "Then shut up and get packed already."
"…. Fine."
"He's still not answering," Gon says into the tense silence that follows, throwing his phone on his bed before he starts shoving spare pieces of clothing haphazardly into his suitcase. Leorio can see his hands shaking from here, and he frowns. Gon lets out a heavy breath, looking around with a determined set to his mouth, and nods. "That's all my stuff. Can we-"
A vibration. Two short buzzes, muffled by the bedspread.
All eyes snap to Gon's phone.
Gon grabs it, types in his passcode as fast as his trembling fingers will allow. Leorio doesn't look over his shoulder; he won't invade Gon's privacy like that, but he does stick close, watching the play of emotion on Gon's face carefully. Gon sucks in a tight breath.
"What is it?" Leorio asks.
"It's Killua. He says-" and Gon shakes his head, like he can dispel what he's read by the motion alone. "He says, "Thanks for having me along. It was fun. Goodbye." I don't..." Gon fades into silence, though his fingers are already furiously tapping out a message in response, brows drawn together, determined.
Leorio nods, standing in a burst of movement. "Okay, you text him back. See if you can get him talking. Kurapika, finish up packing while I check us out, okay? Meet me downstairs as soon as you're done."
Ten minutes later, they're on the road, the bright midday sun turning the highway into long, tan stretches of asphalt, and Leorio has to keep checking to make sure he's not speeding too egregiously. Most police officers probably won't accept trying to kidnap a kid from his abusive family as a good excuse for breaking speed limit, no matter how Leorio feels about it. Gon's foot taps constantly in the back, a quiet drumming that only heightens Leorio's own anxious twitching, but he can't bring himself to tell Gon to stop. Gon is direct. He solves his problems shortly, quickly, and the necessary delay in all of this is probably driving him nuts, the poor kid. Leorio should have never left Killua outside alone. This could have all been avoided if he had just... paid more attention.
Damn it.
"Leorio, speed," Kurapika says, and Leorio curses under his breath before slowing back down to a more respectable five-over.
"I'm getting Killua out of his house."
At Gon's serious voice, Leorio flicks his gaze to the mirror, getting a good glimpse of the determined set of Gon's face. Welp. The avalanche has made up its mind which way down the mountain it's going.
"I can't-, I won't just leave him there. He left because he needed to before, and he came to see me. I won't let him down, not when he came to me." Gon frowns. "I won't let this end with a fight between us. I... Killua's my friend. He deserves to know that he isn't alone."
"If Killua left of his own accord," Kurapika says, eyes downturned and unfocused, "then there really isn't much for us to do, is there? He's going home, and if he wants to stay there, there's nothing you can do about it."
Gon makes a frustrated noise. "You don't understand how they treat him there! I'm not going to just let him-"
Mildly, Kurapika interrupts. He does not move his gaze from the loose clutch of his fingers, the bright phone screen within. "You seemed content enough to let him do whatever he wanted to yesterday."
Gon freezes.
Yikes. "Okay, Kurapika, focus on navigating me, not on being a dick to Gon."
The mood in the car goes from tense to fucking icy in no time flat as Kurapika lifts his gaze to stare at the side of Leorio's face, coldly furious. No words come out of his mouth, and Kurapika very pointedly turns his back on them, tilting to look out the window at the passing scenery. Leorio sighs, quiet. Okay, so Leorio's temper isn't the best either. And he probably shouldn't have snapped at Kurapika, but fuck it. Everything's already gone to shit. He might as well heap it on.
"Sorry," Gon murmurs from the backseat. He doesn't sound sorry, he just sounds mullish and upset, but Leorio's beyond caring at this point.
"Don't-" Leorio sighs again. "Don't apologize. You're worried. It's whatever. Let's go get him back, alright?"
Gon nods, firm. "Right."
It's mid-afternoon when they finally stop because Leorio is too hungry to keep driving. It's quick and easy meals, McDonald's drive-thru bullshit at the first place in Wyoming that has one that Leorio scarfs down in a nearby parking spot, but even Gon's obvious impatience can't get Leorio to eat so fast he chokes, damn it. Every few minutes or so, Gon tries calling Killua again, but his phone rings, again and again, into silence.
"Leorio."
It's the first thing Kurapika has said for hours. Leorio pauses in draining a ketchup packet directly into his mouth to blink at him curiously.
Kurapika's mouth is pressed in a thin line, but the angle of his shoulders is upset, not defensive. "I'm sorry. About earlier."
"S'not me you gotta apologize to," Leorio says, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry to you, too, Gon. I shouldn't have snapped like that."
Gon shrugs. "It's okay, Kurapika. I forgive you. Can we start driving now?"
"I'm not-"
Kurapika interrupts. "I can drive. You, you've been driving so much. I can take over until you feel up for driving again."
Eying him warily, hamburger hanging half out of his mouth, Leorio squints. "You sure?"
"Positive."
Well shit, alright then. Leorio isn't about to argue too much about a chance to rest his eyes, so he lets Kurapika trade him seats, pushing the passenger side back as far as it can go and laying the seat down to get a little rest once he's done eating. Kurapika pulls back onto the highway and starts them back on Killua's probable trail.
The hum of the road surrounds them. Leorio finds himself drifting easily there, in the warm space between thought and dreams. A bare half-hour out of town, food happily processing in his stomach, Leorio takes stock of everyone. Kurapika seems clear-eyed, still, though rigid, but Gon has finally managed to fall asleep. Poor kid probably ran out of batteries. He needs his rest.
Leorio looks at the tense, straight-armed form of Kurapika in the driver's seat and his heart clenches. "Kurapika..." Leorio sighs, rolling over. "Are you okay?"
"When I said that we should talk another time, this isn't what I meant." Kurapika's mouth flattens. "I'm not going to have this conversation in a car where Gon could overhear us."
A bright spark of anger flares, pushing up, burning from his lungs to his esophagus, and Leorio exhales loudly just to push it out, the stop the crowd of words flooding his throat. There are so many things he could say to that, all of them varying levels of angry, and he knows that he'd be justified in snapping out about half of them and could make a strong case for the other half. Instead, he holds back, limiting himself to a terse, "I wasn't planning on having some intense conversation, though the fact that you thought so now kinda makes me want to. I just asked if you were okay."
"I..." Kurapika sighs, rubbing his face with one hand, the other braced firmly on the steering wheel. "Yes, I'm alright. Thank you, for asking."
"You know you can talk to me if you need anything."
"...yes, I know."
And Kurapika keeps driving as Gon rouses again in the back seat, tapping at his phone to hear the shrill ring, ring, ring, silence, again and again as the miles fly by. The lack of response never deters Gon. Every half hour or so, he wakes up and pulls out his phone to try again, to check the messages he gets (or doesn't), and it becomes so much habit that Leorio drifts in and out to it, marking the passage of time by the rustle of clothes and that ringing in the backseat.
Until.
It's cut short.
The oddity has Leorio waking and paying attention before he's fully cottoned onto what's happening, but Gon's excited, hopeful shout would have gotten him next if he hadn't. "Killua? Killua, it's-"
And Gon freezes. Extends the phone out and presses the speaker button.
"-who you are, Gon Freecs, and I think it is time you ceased contacting my brother," Illumi says, mild, threatening all the same. "He has made his choice."
Gon's hand clenches hard enough that his knuckles whiten. "I don't want to talk to you. Put Killua on."
"I don't care."
"Let me talk to Killua."
Illumi, calm -seriously, is there ever a time where this guy isn't doll-like in his fucking unflappable-ness? It's bullshit- says only, "No."
"Illumi. Let me talk to Killua. Now."
An aggravated sigh. "Asking more than once isn't going to change anything. Killua has decided, as he should, to come home where he belongs instead of haring off with you. He knows, as he always has, that his family is the best place for him, that we will love and support him, no matter what, unlike you."
"You don't get to say how I feel about him," Gon says, cold.
"Someone who cared wouldn't have fought with him. I understand him in ways you can never dream of. Killua is mine, the family's, and we are never letting him go. We never let him go the first time, not truly. And I'm sure he said he had fun with you all, but it's time for him to put such childish things behind him."
"He's only sixteen," Leorio growls. "He's has plenty of time to be a kid still."
For a moment, there is only silence.
"Killua will not," Illumi says, "now or ever, go back with you. He made his choice, and his choice was to come home and stay there. His good behavior for Alluka's treatment. He'll be happy here. Happier than he ever was with you. Even if he isn't completely content right now, he'll suffer anything for his sister, which will lead him to sacrifice for the rest of his family too. Killua's very smart and very good at learning what he needs to know. He won't make this mistake of trusting someone outside of the family again. So hear me now:
"Don't come near Killua ever again. I will make him regret it before I even lay a finger on him. You all, however, make excellent targets."
A dial tone.
With shaking hands, Gon lowers the phone to his lap.
"Hold on," Kurapika says. "I need to-"
He whips around an eighteen-wheeler blocking their way and floors it, zipping Paladin's protesting bulk down the highway. He's grumbling under his breath, furious, and somehow, Kurapika's anger makes this easier to bear. Easier for Leorio to reach into the back and fumble for one of Gon's clenched hands, to unwrap his fingers and thread them between his and squeeze until Gon looks less stony, less blank.
Brown eyes lift to his, and Leorio offers Gon a faint smile. "We're going to get him back. Come hell or high water."
Gon nods. Once, then again, firmly, because an avalanche doesn't stop for the trees in its way, and Gon's mind will not be so easily swayed.
It's late, the sun having long since set, by the time Kurapika pulls over into a well-lit gas station and rubs his eyes. "That's as much as I can do for right now," he says with a yawn. "Leorio-"
"Yeah, I'll take over. Fill up and bathroom break for right now, okay?" Hopping out of the car, Leorio puts one hand to the small of his back and straightens, feeling his spine shift in ways it really shouldn't, given that he's only barely twenty-three. He takes out his wallet, passes Kurapika his card, before he starts heading inside. "I'll be right back."
A quick trip to the bathroom later, Leorio comes out, rubbing still slightly damp hands on his pants, and stares at the florescent lit rows of candy and drinks. Something caffeinated can't go awry. He nabs a Pepsi and a small bag of honey roasted almonds and some jerky too, chewy things to keep him awake, and digs a couple of spare bills out of his pocket. The cashier rings him up, Leorio's eyes dart to the wall behind the tired worker, and he's saying "And a pack of the Camel Wides, please," while grabbing a cheap lighter and putting it on the counter too.
The cashier doesn't even blink an eye. Of course not.
But Leorio feels a twinned sense of guilt and "fuck it" that leads him outside, with his bag of actual goods hanging from his wrist as he drags the lighter and a single cigarette out of the bag. A careful flick, a gentle spark, and Leorio brings the cigarette up to his lips and takes a deep drag, letting the nicotine and mild oxygen deprivation calm the frantic churn of his stomach. It's disgusting, the way it always is, but a familiar kind of gross. Leorio only wishes that gas stations sold clove cigarettes. He could use something sweet smelling right now.
There's a step on pavement, and Kurapika approaches him, head tilted. He offers Leorio's card to him silently, and Leorio takes it, shoves it back into his wallet. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kurapika watch him. His expression is impassive, curious without passing judgment.
"I thought you quit smoking," he says.
Leorio shrugs, exhaling in a plume of fragrant smoke. "I did. But it -this, this whole-" and he waves as though he can somehow encompass all of the relevant bullshit in their current situation, "-everything. I mean, fuck. I needed a smoke."
Kurapika says nothing, does nothing except to reach out and take the cigarette. Without changing expression, he puts it to his lips. The act of smoking seems oddly practiced for someone Leorio knows has never smoked before. Kurapika looks a bit pinched around the eyes when he goes to exhale, and Leorio hides his amused grin when Kurapika glares up at him and starts coughing. There it is. Kurapika may be good at fronting confidence through situations unknown, but even he has his tells. Somehow, right now, it's reassuring to see them. To see something familiar, when so much else is not.
Still. Leorio gestures at Kurapika's stolen cigarette. "Didn't take you for someone who'd smoke," he says. Really, his self-restraint should be rewarded. He could have said any number of increasingly deprecating comments, and he managed to stay away from almost all of them.
"Well, it's not like it can kill me faster than anything else," Kurapika replies, dry throated and still coughing.
Leorio blinks. "I. That. No, that's exactly what it does, actually."
A snort. One, followed by the quick-stutter of a few more muffled ones, and then, like a warm, tinkling bell, Kurapika laughs. Leorio smiles, and then he, too is laughing. For a brief moment, everything feels like it's back to normal. The breeze picks up, lifting the blond strands of Kurapika's hair, and Leorio watches them fan out, and then the almost delicate way Kurapika tucks them behind his ear before going to smoke again. It's a futile gesture, really, since there's always more hair and the wind hasn't given up at all. Every time he gets one ear situated, the hair behind the other has tugged free.
Before thinking, Leorio reaches out and brushes the loose fall of Kurapika's soft, smooth hair back, tucking it behind the warm shell of his ear.
His red earring, caught in the wind, flutters against the heel of Leorio's hand.
Statuesque, Kurapika is frozen in place, staring up at Leorio who can only stare back.
"Hey," Leorio murmurs, "we're... okay, right?"
Slowly, Kurapika blinks. Blond lashes dip against pale skin, lightly freckled from the sun. A flash of pink tongue, Kurapika wetting his lips, and then he brings the cigarette back up to his mouth. He turns his head to exhale, dislodging Leorio's hand, coughing again. "Yeah. We're alright, Leorio."
Leorio's about to protest, when the filtered end of the cigarette is unceremoniously shoved into his mouth. Reflexively, he closes his lips around it, breathing in smoke. Kurapika waves at him, turning to head inside.
"Hurry up and finish, Leorio. And stop smoking. It's bad for you."
Well.
That was. The most anti-climatic conversation Leorio's ever had.
For a moment, Leorio honestly considers letting it go there. It would be easy, to let Kurapika retreat from this conversation the way he always does when he doesn't want to open up, but diverting the train of frustration from breaking out and saying something stupid apparently meant sacrificing the ability to resist making bad decisions for the rest of the night.
"Kurapika," he calls out, bringing Kurapika's retreating footsteps to a halt. Leorio doesn't wait for Kurapika to turn or acknowledge him more than that. "You know we can't avoid talking about this forever."
For a moment, it seems like Kurapika won't respond. Then, softly, "I thought me turning you down was clear enough, Leorio."
Leorio sighs. He scrubs at the back of his neck, tries to figure the shapes of the words clogging his lungs. "I'm not going to try and convince you to give me a chance, if that's what you're thinking. I respect your decision. But we're still friends, and there are some things you said while turning me down that I'd like to clear up."
"Like?"
"Like the fact that you think I'm not interested in men."
Kurapika starts. He turns, staring at Leorio with wide gray eyes as Leorio takes another smooth inhale from his cigarette.
"Because," Leorio says, his words shaking around the corners, in the uncertain, vulnerable tremble of his hands, "I feel like after-what, four years of knowing me?- you would know that I'm bi as shit."
"I... You... What?"
"I'm bisexual as hell, Kurapika. I haven't made an active secret of that since before I knew you. I thought you knew, honestly."
Kurapika's mouth opens, closes, his eyes darting around the steady contours of Leorio's face, which he makes sure to keep even and calm, squashing the slim ray of hope that maybe Kurapika's rejection was all a big misunderstanding. He can't get ahead of himself here. He can't make Kurapika feel like he's being backed into a corner. Worst option, there. Catastrophic in proportion. Leorio just has to be patient and calm. Let Kurapika come to him.
(What, he can be both patient and calm, and even at the same time without hurting himself, thank you very much. He just. Doesn't bother most of the time when he's not out on rotation, because maintaining that kind of emotional labor for everyone in his life -not just his patients- is tantamount to suicide. And sometimes, people need someone to just cut through the bullshit instead of tiptoe around it.)
"I didn't," Kurapika says. "Know, that is."
That's not a surprise. Well, it kinda is, but given everything Kurapika said to him before, it shouldn't be. How Kurapika hadn't known is still a mystery, because he's one of the few people that Leorio has ever unclenched enough around to admit that a few guys here and there weren't so bad to look at. Leorio nods. "Guessed that much."
"But this isn't-. This isn't the time or place. For this conversation. We can talk about it later, Leorio," Kurapika says quietly.
"If I leave it up to you, later isn't ever going to come."
Kurapika makes a sharp motion with his hand. "No, please. Just. Listen. Right now, this isn't important. What's important is finding Killua and getting him away from his family." He stands between Leorio and the gas station, braced against an unseen force, the delicate bow of his lips pressed flat, chin angled defiantly up, as though he expects a fight. "We can talk about this after."
Leorio searches his face. The determination, he expects. The defiance, the readiness for a fight, he doesn't. Perhaps he should. This last week only seems to be highlighting all the ways that Leorio doesn't actually know Kurapika. Perhaps they should have just stayed friends in the confines of their dusty study room. Perhaps Leorio should have never hoped for more.
(And yet. Still, still, Leorio can't bring himself to actually regret any of it, remembering the warmth of Kurapika's head on his shoulder, the glint of his eyes in the sunset, the poetry shared quietly between them.)
"Promise?" Leorio asks, suddenly, not caring that it's childish, that he's twenty-three and shouldn't need reassurances like a simple, easily discarded word. Because to him, it isn't easily discarded. Between him and Kurapika, it never has been. Kurapika always keeps his promises to Leorio. If he doesn't agree to the promise, all bets are off, but Kurapika has never bothered lying to him before. He'll evade and he'll lie afterward, but Kurapika doesn't make a promise with the intention of breaking it.
It hangs between them, heavy with their shared history and so many unspoken words.
"I promise," Kurapika says, and then he heads inside.
He takes a deep, clear breath. Ruins it by raising the half-abandoned cigarette to his lips and breathing in again. Leorio lets out a long, final sigh of smoke and crushes the cigarette beneath his foot. He can't dare to let himself hope, but it swells up sweetly within him against his wishes, a faint light beating back the darkness.
Driving through the night is an experience unlike any other.
Driving late in cities is one thing, the constant orange pass of streetlights and the occasional car company enough, but out in the middle of nowhere? On the long stretches of highway? First, there are the late drivers, trying to get home. Then they fall off and there are only eighteen-wheelers, trundling their deliveries.
At some point, even they, too, take a break, and it's there Leorio just drives.
He isn't thinking of much beyond the destination, the quiet drone of Gon's phone hooked up to the speakers, and the Maps app telling him how many miles before his next turn off. Everyone else has fallen asleep. It's too dark now to keep busy in the car, and really, there isn't anything else to do except sleep and wait. Leorio's feeling alright, after all, even though the world seems to hardly exist past the white illumination of his headlights.
Luckily, or perhaps not, that small stretch of road isn't all he has to look at.
Kurapika is highlighted gently in the blue-green glow of the car's center console. Leorio can't do much more than sneak glances here and there, but he tries his damnedest to set it in his memory. Just the way Kurapika's head is tilted over towards the window, arms tightly tucked against his body, blanket over his lap, pillow beneath his ear. The delicate fan of his hair and eyelashes against his skin, monochromatic and compelling in the late hour. His mouth is open gently, just the barest part, and Leorio feels something warm and solid lump in his chest, where his heart beats heavy and low.
Leorio looks away from the sight, turns his eyes back to the road, and keeps driving. The road stretches on, empty and dark in front of him. It is hard to breathe. Hard to resist the pull of strong emotion, strong enough that his throat closes against words he can't bring himself to say.
Turned low, the stereo murmurs into the night as Leorio drives across the barren middle of Nevada.
"-Cold pizza, tie-dye shirts, broken hearts, give 'em here, give 'em here."
Leorio can barely even hum along. His throat is too full with unnamed and unacknowledged feelings, and he knows he's avoiding thinking about it too much right now. If he drops one hand from the wheel, laying it down in the passenger seat where it's just close enough to touch Kurapika's thigh on the outside of the blanket, well.
That's no one's business but his.
"-I don't care (cold pizza) where you've been (tie-dye shirts), how many miles (broken hearts), I still love you.
"I don't care (hand me downs) where you've been (leftovers), how many miles (sloppy seconds), I still love you…."
Dawn comes. In strident teals and pinks and yellows, arcing across the landscape, turning it from featureless black to distant red hills and prairie scrub. Leorio is more grateful than he can say that it's all happening at his back, because his eyes ache already without the added stress of direct sunlight. Finally, though, near the border of California, he pulls into a rest stop.
"Leorio?" Gon asks, sleepy.
"Need to get out and stretch my legs." Also, he feels scummy and disgusting, but that's something that can't be fixed until they get somewhere he can shower and shave. Leorio knows his facial hair has gotten past the "carefully scruffy" look he prefers going for, and he rubs his chin with hands half-numbed from the road's vibrations. Ugh.
"Thank goodness. I could use a break." Kurapika stretches, his shirt lifting to expose the plane of his stomach, the soft golden hairs in a trail leading-
Leorio jerks his eyes back to the dashboard. Jesus. Self control, Leorio, have some, damn.
All of them exit and avail themselves of the bathroom, which doesn't take long. Leorio isn't surprised to find Gon sitting on the curb in front of the car by the time he's done, and he plops himself down in a tangle of limbs beside his little cousin. Gon has a surprisingly serious look on his face, watching the long stretch of highway before them.
(Leorio is reminded, uncomfortably, of another conversation with another sixteen year old, watching the road before them. At least this one he probably can't screw up nearly as bad.)
"What's eating you, kid?" he asks, jostling Gon gently.
Gon takes a moment to think about it, which is serious enough on its own. "Are Killua and I still friends?"
"Why do you ask that?"
"Well," Gon says, looking at his hands. "He didn't... trust me to talk about this? Like, any of it. His family, his sister. I knew things there weren't great, but he just brushed me off, and... I let him. And now we've fought, and, Leorio, we've never fought like this before. It's... between us, it's never been like this. So... is that why he left? Because he thinks we're not friends?"
Leorio lets out a long sigh. "I don't know if that's the case."
"I do," Gon says.
Okay, no. Leorio cuts that particular train of thought off at the pass. "Look, Gon, it's tough to understand, but. Sometimes, the people in your life are going to let you down. They're not going to understand what you need from them, for one reason or another. You're not going to communicate well, or they're not going to listen. You're going to make assumptions about each other, because you think know each other well enough that you don't need to ask. Assuming is easier than asking for clarification, and asking for clarification isn't something you see others do on television. On TV, you see people who need things spelled out as the butts of jokes."
Gon's mouth is still set in a stubborn moue, though Leorio likes to think that he can see a little uncertainty bleed into his features. Something other than the high of Gon's righteous rigidity would be so wonderful.
"Your own feelings are complex. Other people are equally complex." Leorio shrugs. "People are messy, Gon. And since your friend's been abused by his family-"
Ooh, fist clench. Yeah, Gon doesn't like the reminder there, but Leorio's already moving on.
"-then he's going to be messier than most. Killua has hidden potholes and speed traps. Things meant to protect him, yeah, but they're unexpected and devastating to run into." Scrubbing the back of his neck, Leorio sighs. "Maybe a minefield would have been a better metaphor. Point is, you can't predict what's going to make him blow up, but, pro-tip, when he does blow up? Blaming the entire problem on him being selfish? Not the best plan."
"I didn't-" Gon starts but cuts off when Leorio raises an eyebrow pointedly. He chews on his lower lip for a moment, then tries again. "I didn't mean to."
Leorio pats him on the shoulder, sympathetic and grounding. "No, you didn't. But that doesn't change the fact that you did. Now you know better. Now you can try to not do it again."
Gon nods. Then his face falls. "Assuming Killua ever talks to me again," he says morosely.
"Kid, I hate to break it to you, but you're a very likeable sort of guy and Killua's very devoted. I'd be more surprised if he didn't talk to you."
"But he hasn't been answering his phone."
Snorting, Leorio shakes Gon gently with the hand still on his shoulder. "Big Brother's still right there, isn't he? Bet you Killua can't call."
And then.
Shattering the moment with a shrill ring, Gon's phone goes off.
A cheerful jingle. They both flinch at the suddenness of the noise, one of Gon's many, many custom ringtones. Leorio thinks this one is from a game the two boys played together online all the time. Then Gon is scrambling for his phone desperately, clawing at his pants to get it free and Leorio has barely enough time to read-
Call from: Powderpuff BF
(Who the fuck? Gon names his friends the weirdest shit in his phone.)
But Gon's eyes light up and he presses the accept button as fast as his shaking fingers will allow, so clearly he knows who the fuck is calling him at -Leorio checks his watch- seven fucking thirty-ish in the morning.
"Killua!" Gon yells into the phone.
Oh shit. Leorio's eyebrows rocket up, and he leans back on the curb to look around for Kurapika, who has serendipitously exited the bathrooms and is headed their way, a curious tilt to his head.
"Killua! Where are you? Are you okay? Wha-" Gon stops, quiets just as Kurapika joins them, leaning over Leorio's shoulder. "Are you okay? Hm? I... okay?"
He lowers his phone and presses a button, putting Killua on speakerphone.
"Hey guys, sup, how are you doing? Great? Great, so, I'm gonna ask a quick, completely innocent and in no way related to my current situation question, okay?" Killua says, talking a mile per minute. "Out of curiosity, like, how close are you to Sacramento right now, and how soon would you be able to get here? Just. Y'know. Curious."
Leorio checks the map already up on his phone, squinting. "Uh. About... half an hour?"
"Sweet," Killua says, almost reflexively. Then Killua sputters. "Wait, half an hour? You do know I'm talking, like, Sacramento, California, right?"
"Yeah, I know?" Leorio scrunches his nose. For a moment, he didn't get why Killua sounded so surprised. Sure, they were making pretty good time, but it's not like Gon didn't know Killua's address. Then he realizes, and his tone gentles as he asks, "Killua, you didn't think we were just going to let you disappear into the night without going after you, did you?"
There's silence from the other end of the line.
"Dumbass fucking kid, I swear to god."
"Hey, you didn't have any reason to come get me. How was I supposed to know?"
"Except for liking you?"
"Ew, who does that?" Killua asks, faux-offended, but his fake laugh is trying to cover up the fact that his voice is audibly choked up. He clears his throat before continuing. "But this actually really helps, because I'm gonna need to be picked up before Illumi figures out I'm out of the house."
Kurapika leans over Leorio's shoulder. Leorio tries to not think about it too much. "Wait, how did you even end up in Sacramento? Your address is in San Francisco, isn't it?"
Killua makes an indistinct noise. "Yeah, look it's not that big of a deal, okay? I've used public transit before, and it's no problem. But seriously, Illumi's gone on some overnight business venture. I don't really want to think about it, and the timing is seriously lucky, but the sooner you get here, basically, the better."
"And Alluka?" Gon asks, and Leorio smiles, patting him approvingly on the back.
"Well, you know, there's nothing wrong with her big brother taking her on vacation. Dad already knows and then he said to not worry about it. He's going to have a talk with Illumi, and that should be it."
Leorio's mouth skews sideways. "Just like that?"
There's a long static silence before Killua sighs, and in it, Leorio can finally hear how tired he is. Has Killua even gotten a chance to sleep? He can't imagine the kid would feel comfortable enough to sleep in a car with Illumi and possibly Hisoka. "No, probably not, but it's good enough for now. Look, just-"
"Hey, don't worry yet, okay? We can talk about it when we get to wherever you are. Send Gon a pin of your location and we'll be there as soon as we can. And Killua?"
"...Yeah?"
"Don't run off like that again, okay, brat? Scared me half to death. Answer your phone, you're as bad as Kurapika." He ignores the quiet, offended "Hey," that gets him, and levers himself upright, one hand on Gon's shoulder. "Come on, then. Let's go."
Killua, voice small over the distance, calls, "Leorio?"
Leorio turns with a hum of acknowledgment, hoping that makes it all the way to the phone's microphone.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it, kid. We'll be there soon."
