A/N: This one's a little heavy, fair warning. It deals with depression, although not in so many words, and comes from some of my own dark places. Warnings for not eating/weight loss, throwing up, and general self-destructive behavior, I guess? Anyways, I definitely think everything Kurapika's gone through has to have left some kind of a mark, and this is my way of presenting a sort of beginning to dealing with that for him... Please let me know what you think on this one especially!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hunter X Hunter, Kurapika, or Leorio. I do, however, own this story! Cross-posting to ChocolatteKitty-Kat on Ao3 and , and maliciousbubbl3s on Tumblr.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Kurapika stared dully at his phone as the screen lit up, illuminating his face, the pillow, his rumpled bedding. He watched as the incoming call screen changed over to his lockscreen, which displayed a NEW VOICEMAIL notification for only a few seconds before it began buzzing again, once more displaying the information on the incoming call. Kurapika rolled over slowly, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders and shrinking down into the mattress.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Leorio scowled at the ground. Pick up the phone, asshole, he grumbled to himself. When it, predictably, went to voicemail—for the fourth time in a row—he clenched his jaw, listening to Kurapika's voicemail greeting instructing him to leave a message after the beep. At the beep, he took a deep breath. "Kurapika, I doubt you're even listening to these messages, but I just… I just wanted to say, please, please pick up next time I call. It's been almost two days since I heard from you. I'm starting to get worried."

.*.*.*.*.*.

Kurapika sat up, rubbing his eyes. His eyelids felt like they were backed in sandpaper. His throat was completely dry and felt sore and oddly swollen. He picked sleep-dust from the corners of his eyes and tapped his phone screen. Twelve missed calls from Leorio. He blinked, but pressed the lock button to turn the screen off again, laid back down, and pulled the blanket up over his head again. He willed himself to cry or sleep or throw up—all three felt like possibilities, but his body didn't seem to want to cooperate with any of them. He had to remind himself to breathe every now and again.

The phone began to buzz yet again. Kurapika reached behind him and felt around. When he finally felt the phone, he gave it a shove off the bed. Now he couldn't feel the buzzing, and he could hardly hear it, dampened from having falling into one of the blankets or pillows Kurapika had shoved off the bed at some point or another. He forced all of his breath out in a sigh. His eyes burned like there were tears trapped behind them, but none came out.

Eventually, he fell asleep.

.*.*.*.*.*.

"Kurapika, I'm starting to get really worried here. It's been over three days since I've heard from you… If you don't call me back by the time I get out of class today, I'm coming to find you."

.*.*.*.*.*.

Kurapika did his best to ignore the pounding on his door. Actually, at first he thought it was just his imagination; some sort of waking dream or hallucination. It wouldn't be the first.

When Leorio started yelling, Kurapika decided he should check the door, just in case. It wouldn't do to have the neighbors start asking questions. He dragged himself out of bed, kicking discarded pillows, blankets, and clothing out of the way as he crossed the small studio to the door, clutching his blanket around him. He unlocked the door, but left the security chain latched as he opened it.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Leorio's bellow actually forced Kurapika a step back.

"Please keep your voice down," Kurapika's own voice was barely above a whisper. He closed the door and slid the safety chain out of its catch, then opened the door wide enough for Leorio to come in. Kurapika turned towards the back, focusing his full attention on his footsteps. It would be embarrassing to fall in front of Leorio, although he was so light-headed that he wasn't sure he'd be able to help it.

Leorio looked around the room. It was bigger than his and Zepile's living room and kitchen combined, but not really by much. The floor was strewn with clothing, shoes, and, nearer the bed (which was really just a mattress on a boxspring on the floor, and the only furniture in the apartment) blankets and pillows. Heavy curtains were drawn over the two wide windows, cutting out most of the light. Leorio looked at the wall behind him, searching for a light switch. He flipped the first one he found and the kitchenette light blinked on. He turned back just in time to see Kurapika flop onto the mattress—in all honesty, he couldn't tell if Kurapika had chosen to fall, or if he had passed out or lost his balance.

"Kurapika?" Leorio took a tentative step towards the bed. "Are you okay?"

Kurapika curled up into a tight ball, pulling the blanket tightly around him. "Why are you here?" he mumbled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leorio demanded, crossing the room in only a few strides. "It's been three and a half days or more. You haven't answered my texts or picked up my calls. I was worried!"

Kurapika was silent under the blanket. Leorio wondered for a moment if he really had passed out this time, until a deep sigh emanated from the folds of fabric. "Well, clearly I'm fine, so you can leave now."

Leorio was stunned. He looked around at the pigsty of the apartment—literally the last thing he would ever expect Kurapika's place to look like—which seemed somehow worse in the light from the kitchenette. He sighed and sat down on the bed, reaching out to rest his hand on what he guessed was Kurapika's shoulder. "You're not fine."

Even through the blanket, he could feel Kurapika tense up.

"You're not fine," Leorio repeated. "Just one look around this place makes that obvious. This isn't you."

"Maybe you just don't know me as well as you thought you did," Kurapika mumbled.

Leorio fought down the urge to argue. "I think… I just don't know this part of you. Yet."

Kurapika stirred, pulling the blanket away from his face. "Why would you want to?"

Leorio reached out to gently push the blanket further away from Kurapika's face and shoulders. "I want to know everything about you. The good, the bad… whatever this is."

Kurapika could feel tears pricking at the back of his eyes again. I guess I'm not all cried out after all, he thought idly. "Why?"

"Because I love you," Leorio said simply.

Kurapika sat up, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. Within moments, he was bawling—body-wracking sobs that had him shaking so hard his teeth chattered. His nose ran and his eyes burned from the tears crowding to escape. He hunched forward, hugging his knees to his chest. Leorio rested a hesitant hand on Kurapika's back, between his shoulders, and rubbed it in slow circles. After long minutes, Kurapika's sobs began to subside. His breathing remained fast and uneven, accompanied by frequent hiccups and sniffles, but his tears began to slow as well. It was at this point that he pulled away from Leorio, standing up and taking a few shaky steps away from the bed.

"Why?" Kurapika asked again. His voice was shaky and hoarse, and he kept his back to Leorio, hunched forward with his arms clasped around his middle.

"I told you. Because I lo"—

"Why would you love me?" Kurapika refined his question.

Leorio froze. There were several heartbeats of silence, broken only by Kurapika's hiccups. In any other situation, it might have been funny, but now it was just heartbreaking. All Leorio could see was the way Kurapika's ribs were just visible on his back, even through the thin material of his t-shirt—a garment that was clearly supposed to be fitted, but hung loosely on Kurapika's slim figure. Leorio clenched his fists in his lap and glared down at them, tears beginning to prick at his own eyes.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he kept his voice low and even, but the anger behind it was impossible to miss.

"I mean… how could you?" Kurapika sounded like he was choking, forcing the words out past some sort of obstacle in his throat. "How could anyone love me ever again? How could I deserve that?" He was shivering now, hard enough to make his whole body shake. Leorio saw his fists clench in the fabric of his shirt, drawing it tighter across his back.

Leorio tried again to quell the anger swelling in his chest, at war with the intense love and sorrow and compassion he felt for Kurapika. Behind his ribcage his heart pounded so hard that he thought it might either burst out of his body or tear itself in two. He hardly even realized he was moving as he stood and took a shaky step towards Kurapika, reaching out to rest a hand on the smaller man's shoulder. "Kurapika…" he whispered, the tears in his eyes finally overflowing and beginning their journey down his cheeks as Kurapika turned to face him. As he stared down into his face, he found that he couldn't breathe. Even smeared with tears and snot and framed with hair that was dull and tangled and matted, with the blue eyes turned a murky crimson from emotion and pain, it was the most beautiful face he had ever seen. All of the anger in his heart melted away, and the love and compassion reached out. His heart was still breaking, but now it was tolerable as he pulled Kurapika into an impossibly tight embrace. The blond was stiff through the hug, but began to soften as Leorio released him, clamping his hands on Kurapika's thin shoulders and leaning down to his eye level. "Don't ever say that again, please."

"But…" Kurapika sniffled, swiping the back of his hand over his eyes. "I don't understand it. I can't. You know what I've done—some of it, at least, and it just gets worse from there. Leorio, I'm a monster. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve love. I don't deserve you."

Leorio pulled him forward into another hug, sinking down to the floor and pulling Kurapika with him as the blond began to shake with a fresh onslaught of sobs. "Don't say that," Leorio bawled, his own tears flowing freely now. "I don't want to hear it ever again."

They sat there for a long time—longer than either cared to admit—a tangled, vaguely soggy, mess of bodies. After a while, Leorio realized that the trembling breaths of the small form in his arms had evened out. A glance down showed that Kurapika's eyes were closed, the lines of his face smoothed out into at least a semblance of peace. Leorio bit his lip as a fresh wave of tears threatened to hit him. Why can't this be your reality? he stifled a sob. Gingerly, he scooped Kurapika up in his arms and carried him back to the bed, where he laid him down and draped a blanket over his still figure. He brushed a hand across Kurapika's forehead, frowning at the warmth he felt there. He kicked something hard with his foot and fished Kurapika's phone out of the wadded up blanket there. He checked the notifications. There were a whopping fifteen 'missed call' and twelve 'voicemail' notifications from Leorio himself, as well as five missed calls and two voicemails from Senritsu. He sighed and set the phone back on the floor.

.*.*.*.*.*.

Kurapika peeled his eyes open with some difficulty. He was met with the sight of his ceiling. Moving felt clumsy, as though he didn't quite have full control over his body, but he forced his head to turn from side to side until he caught a glimpse of Leorio. The tall man was seated on the edge of the mattress, knees pulled up to his chest and head in his hands. Kurapika had to use all of his will to move his hand to brush against Leorio's hip. His voice refused to cooperate.

Leorio jumped at the touch and whipped around. His eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and his nose and cheeks were red as well. Nevertheless, he cracked a slight smile—a smile that was not echoed in his eyes—as he looked down at Kurapika. "Hey there, sleepyhead."

It took a few tries, but Kurapika finally managed to get some words out: "What time is it?"

"Nearly midnight, I think," Leorio sighed and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"Why are you still here?"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Leorio snapped. "Where else would I be? I couldn't tell if you passed out or fell asleep, for one thing, and, for another, I honestly wasn't sure if you were okay to be left on your own. It doesn't seem like you've been eating or drinking anything, and who knows how much sleep you've been getting. Not to mention that when you lost consciousness, you had a fever. I didn't feel comfortable leaving you."

"That's not what I meant," Kurapika rasped, struggling to sit up. "Well, I guess it partly is. I meant… well, I was so horrible to you. I've been ignoring you for days, and the things I said earlier… I'm sorry doesn't even begin to cover it."

"No, it doesn't," Leorio said shortly. "Not even close."

"Well, I'll say it anyway, and mean it too: I'm sorry," Kurapika reached out to take Leorio's hand and give it a brief squeeze.

Leorio melted. He reached out to cup Kurapika's face, then slid his hand further back, under his hair, and pulled him close and into an awkward embrace—the first one of the evening that Kurapika reciprocated.

"I'm sorry," Kurapika whispered, grabbing fistfuls of Leorio's shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He felt like he was ready to cry again, but his eyes were completely dry.

"Shh," Leorio rubbed his back soothingly. "That's enough of that."

Kurapika buried his face in Leorio's chest, letting dry sobs shake his body. When he finally pulled away, he started coughing so hard that he gagged and set off running for the bathroom. He dry-heaved over the toilet for a solid two minutes before stumbling back to collapse on the bed next to a startled Leorio.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Leorio asked softly, resting his hand on Kurapika's arm.

"I have no idea," the blond mumbled. "A day or two. Maybe longer."

"And water? How long since you drank some?"

"Not so long ago. Maybe a few hours before you came. I'm not really sure."

"You're dehydrated. Wait here." Leorio went over to the sink in the kitchenette and filled a glass with water, then brought it back to the bed. "Small sips," he ordered, handing the glass to Kurapika.

"Leorio, you don't have to take care of me," Kurapika mumbled, handing the glass back after a few sips.

"I know," Leorio said simply. "But I want to. And, right now, it definitely seems like someone needs to, so I might as well just do it myself."

Kurapika shook his head. "It's not fair to ask you to"—

"Bullshit," Leorio interrupted. "You didn't ask, and you definitely don't get to decide what's fair right now."

"But"—

"Shut up and listen for a minute. I love you. You know that. I'm pretty sure you love me too. And love is definitely not fair. We've both experienced enough unfair love in our lives to know that by now. I would do anything for you. This? This is nothing. I'd walk to the ends of the Earth and back if you asked me to. I'd borrow Gon's fishing pole and use it to catch the moon and bring it down for you to see. I'd… I'd… you know what, I'm too tired to think of anything else, so let's just say again that I'd do anything for you. Say the word, and it's yours. Your wish is my command and all that bullshit. You know, I always thought that was a stupid phrase, but now I get it. Because, you know, I love you."

Kurapika stared up at him and reached out to slip slender, icy cold fingers into Leorio's hand. "I love you too. I'm sorry for putting you through all this."

Leorio smiled softly. "It doesn't matter, really. Not in the long run." He yawned widely. "Look, I'm exhausted, and I bet you are too. We've made up, technically, so we don't have to worry about that whole not going to bed angry at each other thing. Is it okay if I crash on your floor tonight?"

Kurapika nodded. "You don't have to sleep on the floor, though," he said as Leorio started to stand up. "I'd feel better if you were here with me. Just your presence would be soothing, I think."

Leorio smiled softly. How could I say no, even if I hadn't already told him everything I just said? He flicked off the lightswitch and climbed onto the bed beside Kurapika. For long minutes, they were both stiff, the air between them practically charged with tension. Then, Leorio reached out, wrapped an arm around Kurapika's middle, and pulled him close to his own body. Kurapika relaxed slowly, settling in close to Leorio. Leorio waited until Kurapika was asleep again to allow himself to relax, clutching Kurapika tighter as he turned his face into the pillow and started to cry again.

.*.*.*.*.*.

When Leorio woke the next morning, Kurapika was gone. He bolted upright and looked around wildly, until his gaze landed on Kurapika, seated cross-legged on the floor and folding clothes. "Hey," the blond said sheepishly. "I wanted to get a little bit cleaned up before you woke up."

Leorio looked around again, taking in the newly-tidied studio. "It looks like you made a lot of progress."

Kurapika shrugged. "It's better than it was."

Leorio smiled softly. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry again," Kurapika looked down at the clothes in his lap. "About the past few days. If I could take it all back, I would."

Leorio sighed. "It's okay. I mean, it's not okay at all, but… I forgive you. Just… promise me one thing for the future?"

Kurapika nodded.

"Please just answer the phone when I call?" Leorio asked. "I don't care if it's just to say 'now's not a good time' or whatever. Don't leave me hanging like that, wondering if you're even still alive or whatever."

Kurapika nodded again. "I'll try."

"Good enough," Leorio smiled, then stood up and stretched. "Now, what's for breakfast?"