Dark Wings of an Angel

by Cherrie

Killua hides in him a dark past he couldn't forget. Illumi x Killua (incest), Hisoka x Illumi

Title: Dark Wings of an Angel
Author: Cherrie (kurapikasama@yahoo.com)
Chapter: 1/1
Rating: PG13 - R
Disclaimer: Yoshihiro Togashi is a god. If you need someone to bow down to, he's very much alive ^-^
Notes: I'm doing really well writing this Gravitation fanfic. Too well, that I'm afraid I'm neglecting my other works. So, I swore that I won't be writing its next chapter until I've finished something related to Hunter x Hunter. Somehow, life has a weird sense of humor, and instead of doing a chapter for Luminescence or Interviews..., I instead came up with this. I've been meaning to write this for a long time now. I just finished the idea last night. Insomnia isn't so bad when you think about it ^____^ This is the first fanfic that I *wrote* on paper (I was possessed. Does anybody realize how LONG this thing is!?), so it's somehow very precious to me. Not that I'd let anyone I know read it. Yeah, I'm that disturbed by it ^.~
Warning: To those who have read Silence, forget it for now *sweatdrops* because Illumi will be a bit evil in this fic. To sum it up: Dark. This fanfic is written a few hours before dawn, and coincidentally with Gregorian's Before the Dawn played over and over in maximum volume that practically erased the whole world from the author's consciousness, which may explain the mood (but mind you, Before the Dawn is my favorite chant). The following selection contains mild incest (relations between siblings), and a possibly disturbing storyline. The author will not tolerate any flames against this. The proper warnings have been given. I'd shut up now because I'm sounding as if I don't want anybody to read this at all o.O

* * * * *

The pained cries of a child echoed through the stone dungeon. The sounds of metal chains furiously beating with each other and the cold, chilling hum of white electricity danced with that desperate voice, making an unmusical song that all the more intensified the intangible gloom that surrounded the dark prison.

The screams continued. The words cried were almost inaudible, the shocks painful enough to freeze that childish jaw over to stop the words from forming. The sparks flowed through the wholeness of his lithe form, his fingers threatening to burn, his chest feeling like it would explode from the inside. His whole body was frozen, as if arms both cold and hot held him to keep him from escaping. And just when the young one thought that the pain would not go away, his vision began to grow dark, the soreness of his body leaving him. He bid the ghosts in the room a relieved "thank you", and consciousness finally let him go.

The cries died down, leaving only the radiant blaze of electricity to create the remaining sounds in the room. Realizing this, the shadow that stood hidden in the darkness finally emerged into the light, revealing a young man with long, death black hair. He had his arms folded critically, and his large but empty black eyes remained focused on the unconscious boy.

"Milluki, that's enough." His voice was light, but cold; commanding, but emotionless. The deafening sounds of the white current died down, heeding the said words.

"Is he dead, Illumi?" asked another boy who stood a few paces behind the two, his hands still touching the controls. Milluki was a large young boy, and he had the same striking features as that of the other man; empty black eyes, dark raven hair and dead white skin. But the similarity in their looks were somehow marred by the fact that Milluki had a more than healthy body compared to the lean form of his older brother.

Illumi didn't bother to answer Milluki's useless question. Instead, he moved towards the still body of his light-haired brother, with a grace that was rare in most men. A single key was held in his long, graceful fingers, and this he used to unlock the simmering chains from the thin wrists of the boy. The boy's limp body fell easily in his arms as he lifted him off the floor.

His steps created no sound, as if he merely floated above the cold stairway as he carried the young one's body against his own. A slight mumble broke the quiet; the boy's voice almost unrecognizable from the raggedness of its state. "A-niki...?"

The older one's hold tightened, and promptly, the young boy succumbed to that familiar touch. Illumi brought their heads closer, almost like a gentle cuddle, his voice uncharacteristically kind and soothing. "Killua did well. Aniki's very proud."

* * * * *

"Ne, Killua?"

He bolted upright. What happened?

Light brown eyes met dark purple-black, the former reflecting worry and anxiety. Gon has always been the more thoughtful one. "Killua, are you okay?" he asked again, laying a gentle hand against the other's tense shoulder.

Illumi. Why was he always thinking about him? Why do those empty eyes haunt him even in the outsides of his sleep? Weren't his nightmares enough? And what was this heavy bitterness he would always feel every time he catches himself thinking about his brother? Why did it seem like...he wanted to see the real one instead of the illusions?

"Killua?"

He shook his head. "I-I'm fine, Gon."

The frown that marred the young boy's face was evident. "Killua's not feeling well," he stated, patting his friend's cheek to wake him up from whatever state he's been through. Killua's skin looked more pale than usual, as if no blood ever bothered to grace his face. He was death cold. Gon knew something was wrong.

Killua watched the many emotions that played on Gon's innocent face. But almost immediately, those large, expressive brown eyes were replaced by empty black, the rosy cheeks lightening up to a hue of death white. Gon's touch began to disappear, leaving him with the feel of cold skin caressing his pale cheeks, as the familiar music of his brother's voice sang through his ears like a disturbing requiem.

Don't be weak, Killua. You wouldn't want to disappoint aniki, would you?

He could almost see himself reply. No, aniki, I wouldn't.

"Killua?"

All of a sudden, Gon's gentle voice began to bother him, and the supposedly soothing atmosphere of the room began to become heavy and suffocating. He pushed the covers aside, his steps heavy as he ran away from the one he had called his friend, refusing to share with him the darkness of his secret. He ignored Gon's voice calling out for him, shutting away the comfort it offered.

Gon, if I tell you, would you understand...?

* * * * *

His whole body was freezing beneath the covers. As consciousness graced his mind again, the sudden shot of pain immediately came to him. He could feel the raw throbbing of the wounds underneath the bandages, bringing back the memory of the usual whip that supplied him with the blows.

"How was it, Illumi?" he heard a woman's voice ask. Kikyou. His mother.

She was talking to his brother. That meant Illumi was there in the room. His vision was still blurred, so he relied on his ears to bring him the comfort that he needed, waiting patiently for that peacefully quiet voice to calm him down.

His patience was rewarded almost immediately. "Milluki did as you told him. Father was right when he said that Killua can take it even this early. He did well."

He did well. A ghostly smile graced wounded lips.

"That's very good to hear!" came Kikyou's enthusiastic voice, but she was all but ignored by the immobile child who lied on the bed. But Kikyou didn't know this, and her words were still directed to her eldest son. "Does that mean that your father can bring him to the Sky Arena now?"

Killua waited for his brother to reply, but no such voice graced the room this time. But perhaps he had nodded, for Kikyou burst out again with a happy "Wonderful!".

Leave us, came the almost hateful thought. It was strange that he didn't find comfort from the other members of his family. True, his elders treated him kindly, except for the "training sessions" they liked to call it as. But he didn't like any of them that much. Not as much as he liked Illumi. Of them all, he felt as if he was only safe when he was with Illumi. He didn't know why. But Illumi would say many things to comfort him. He always believed everything that came from him.

"I'll go and talk about it with your father. Watch over your brother for me."

By the time he heard the door close, the young boy finally moved, shifting his head weakly to one side, facing his brother. He searched for his form amidst the haze that his vision only allowed him to see. There was a deep, royal blue that stood out from the gray darkness of his room, and he knew that he had found what he was looking for.

"Aniki..."

The blue cloud that he thought to be Illumi moved, looking as if he was turning around to face him. He blinked his eyes to clear away the fog, wishing only to see the vivid clarity of that gentle face.

The bed shifted slightly from the weight as Illumi sat himself down beside him. There was a familiar warmth that surrounded his cold hand. Following his hand was his whole body, the soothing warmth covering his wholeness more and more as his brother's calming scent overcame him. He was too filled in with his own emotions for the other that he almost missed the fleeting kiss that his brother made when he brushed their lips together.

His vision was clear when he opened his eyes, as if the other just pushed away his dizziness, and he now saw Illumi watching him quietly. There was a feathery touch that moved against his hair. It must be Illumi's hand, idly caressing him.

"What's the Sky Arena?" he asked, an innocent question that he had conjured up in the memory of his mother's words.

"It's a place where you get paid when you win a battle. But our family use it as a training grounds in way," came Illumi's patient answer.

"And I'll be going there?" the young one asked again. Upon seeing Illumi nod, he asked again. "Have you been there?"

Again, Illumi nodded. "Yes," was all he said about it, not looking as if he's interested in sharing more. Instead, he leaned down against the boy on the bed, his breath warm against those cold lips. He could feel Illumi's hand on his cheek, and unconsciously, he leaned against that welcoming warmth. Illumi's voice sang through his ears again. "Enough. Don't think about it anymore. You need your rest."

The little one nodded obediently, his tired eyes drifting closed. The feeling of the other's presence overwhelmed him, and almost immediately, he felt his limbs grow weary. But before slumber overtook him wholly, a gentle wind passed his ears, followed by his brother's quiet whisper.

"Mine."

* * * * *

The spasms of the nightmare lingers still in his limbs. The darkness around him forbade him to see beyond the white covers of his bed. Finding no more use for his eyes, he let them drift closed, a trembling hand coming up to touch his lips. There was an ill comfort in his hand's own touch. Like the kiss of a gentle wind, the warmth cradled him in cold arms, and he minded not the hot sting of unshed tears in his eyes.

It was a curse. A curse was put upon him the very moment his innocent skin touched his brother's own. He loathed him, and yet he felt as if he'd die if he had to endure one more minute of this madness. He missed him so; the sick comfort he'd give, the lies he'd whisper to him that would rouse his distrust upon the world, and strengthen his dependence upon the illusion of a loving brother. Disgusted with himself, he didn't even notice that he was crying until he saw the teardrops sparkling in his shaking fists.

"Killua?"

A ghostly touch not distinctly his own brushed against his cheek. Bronzed fingers traced down the wet trail. When did he arrive? The young assassin felt his whole body freeze, knowing whose hand it was that touched him. Immediately, he willed himself to stop crying, stop before he asks questions, but for some reason, he couldn't. Instead, he found himself leaning in on that hand. The warmth it radiated was welcoming. So much is it different from the comfort he was familiar with.

"I want to help you."

There were so many things he wanted to say. For once in his life, he wanted to share what he felt, feeling as if he'd burst from the inside if he did otherwise. For whatever reason, he wanted so much to tell this boy - the one he had somehow called his best friend - how much he was hurting. But now that he thought about it, no words seemed to come out from him. He didn't know where to start, didn't know where it should end.

So instead, he found himself shaking his head. His mouth opened, and his voice filled with regret as he spoke. "You can't."

His bed shifted, and not a second after did he find himself face to face with a pair of hazel eyes, blazing with a fire that shown in the darkness.

"Try me."

* * * * *

"Aniki, why can't I talk to Karuto?"

Being in Illumi's arms is like sleeping on layers upon layers of blankets on a winter's morning. Standing on a mountain, the Zoldick mansion is naturally cold all throughout the year. He sighed, his child's cheeks nestling comfortably upon his brother's chest, the cold completely forgotten.

"Karuto is being trained herself. You two don't have time to talk," was his brother's cold reply. Had it not been for Illumi's gentle fingers caressing his hair, he would've been afraid. Illumi, despite being always by his side, still remains to him a dark mystery.

"Killua."

He looked up, and saw Illumi looking down at him with a strange expression. His hand still danced through his hair, and suddenly he felt so sleepy. It was always like this. Whenever he'd say something that Illumi seemed to particularly dislike, Illumi would hold him and immediately he'd feel so tired. It was almost like magic. It felt as if Illumi had a strange power over him, willing him to feel things he wanted him to feel. Controlled. But his young mind didn't pay this much heed. To him, he could trust brother.

"Why do you ask about Karuto?" asked Illumi, his voice rousing him up from his dazed state.

"I don't know," he mumbled, leaning closer to take more of his brother's hold. "She's my sister, but I've never spoken to her even once."

For a moment, there was complete silence. He peeked through his half-opened eyes, and saw Illumi's cold expression. He suddenly regretted what he said, for it was obvious that Illumi didn't seem to like something about it.

"Forget her." Illumi's tone was almost commanding. "Karuto will be raised to be by mother's side, and will someday serve you, for you are father's heir."

"But I saw you with her," said the boy, remembering the time when Illumi came back from his work. Before he could come to him, Karuto had got to him first, and Illumi held her to him as she welcomed him back. It was strange watching them. He could almost hear his own voice in his mind cursing the younger girl. Illumi was supposed to be his alone. "What do you tell her when you two speak?"

"Enough." Illumi's voice silenced him. "Karuto is of no interest to you. She is like everyone here. Everybody here sees you as the heir and nothing more. They'll never understand you like I do. Why do you ask these questions? Aniki isn't good enough for you anymore?"

"No!" he cried immediately, knowing that he has somehow offended the other.

"Always remember this, Killua." Again, that drowsy feeling overcame him again as Illumi lifted a hand to his face, enfolding him in a light touch. His eyes fell closed at their own volition, and the world around him faded into a black wilderness. Illumi's voice served as the only thing for him hold on to. "The world is a vast place, and as you grow you'd realize that you'll be alone. I am the only one who ever bothered offering himself to you. To each other we are bound." He felt himself being lowered, his brother's hand now resting lightly on his neck. He felt him kiss him then, a fleeting touch, but enough to finish off the spell that he cast. "No one else should lay claim on you."

* * * * *

The fire in Gon's eyes grew as he went on with his tale. Like a river his words flowed right after Gon broke through the dam. At last, he said the last words he had to share. He included none yet of what he felt, both because he wasn't sure if his friend was ready, and also because he wasn't quite sure of things himself.

"Don't you see? Killua, he's playing with you!" cried a very furious Gon. "For some reason, he wants to keep you to himself!"

"I know!" was Killua's answer, cutting right through the other boy's words. "Don't you think I've known that by now? As I grew up I finally came to understand what he has done to me. That's the reason why I ran away."

Gon stared at him, and unreadable expression etched on his face. "But then...why?"

"Because he was kind to me," said Killua, answering the unsaid question. He let out a spiteful smile, not knowing how to show how he felt. "Because even when I'm starting to see right through his act, I still needed him. The things he had told me were lies, but somehow he wove them in a way that they almost can be passed as truth. In a way, I really was alone, and during my weakest, he was always there. Had I not been stupid enough to listen to him when I was younger, things would've been different.

"I tried to look, you know. I almost found one."

"Kanaria," offered Gon.

For a moment, Killua seemed to smile. "Yes, Kanaria," he said. "The other servants were somewhat kind to me themselves." He paused, his smile immediately fading. "But I think Illumi got to them as well. One day, Kanaria stopped wanting to be my friend." The young assassin's face twisted in anger. "I hate him so much."

Gon was silent as he watched his friend's lowered head, the covers scrunched up beneath the other's trembling hands. "But, Karuto," he said, not knowing how to put his worries into words. But he had always thought that she and Killua had something. After all, he saw her anger when he went to their mansion to take Killua back with them.

"I don't know what Illumi said to her either. But she's always been quiet. It's strange really. My mother and Milluki, I honestly dislike them. But my father and my other elders, they're not really that bad. The reason why Illumi was always with me was because my father assigned me to him. In a way, he taught me things behind my elders' backs. I never really understood him, Illumi. I don't think he wants to be understood."

"During the Hunter Exam," said Gon. "I was told that you were..." he stopped again, lacking the right words.

"Terrified," supplied Killua without a trace of emotion on his face.

"Yes, terrified. When you saw him, you didn't say anything, even when he started speaking to you. Leorio and Kurapika tried to pull you away, but they said that you just wouldn't budge."

"That's just it," said Killua, his face twisting again. "Despite the many realizations I've had, I can never erase him away from me. Illumi is powerful, don't you know? He manipulates the mind like no one else I know can. So long have I been under him that I'm afraid that he has already laid claim on me."

Silence came between them again. Killua felt drained, as if there's nothing more he could give. He had laid himself open, and he wasn't quite sure whether he's done the right thing. Gon can be so innocent. How dare he soil him like this? To share with him the dark side of life...it felt like he just committed a sin so grave that he could feel his chest caving in again. Had he made a mistake telling him? If so, then everything else is a mistake. Someone like Gon should never be friends with someone so...dark. So tainted.

"Killua."

He looked up, and despite the darkness he could still see him. His expression was unreadable, and still the fire in him burned. It was then that Killua realized how bright, how alive, Gon's eyes could be. His eyes spoke of a million things, bared open for the world to see. He wanted him to see him, and he kept nothing from the person he cares about. He was nothing like Illumi. He was everything Illumi should've been.

"I want to help you," came Gon's next words, repeated from the statement he had said earlier.

"But...Gon--"

This time, it was Gon who cut him off. "No," he said, his voice hard. "I will show you that there is no truth in your brother's words. You said that he spoke as if he made his own truths. But he was also the same one who said that you're alone." A hand each on his shoulder, and a weight that pushed against him and yet kept him up; Gon's words continued. "You're not. And I'll prove it. I'll show you the people who care about you. He isn't one of them." His hold tightened, and he forced his friend to look at him. "Please, let me save you."

Again, he could feel the heat behind his eyes. So long had he turned his back on hope. He never even thought of hope. All that he ever did was run away so that he didn't have to face the demon that chased him even as he hid. But here, here in front of him was the very epitome of hope, looking up at him with a fierce determination that he'd be there, regardless of whether or not he'd accept the given offer. Gon's is always like that.

There was warm rush that went through him, and without even knowing it he found himself lunging violently forward, caught in the secure hold that his friend gave him. His breathing came out in gasps, and he realized that he's crying. Shutting his eyes, minding not the fact that Gon is seeing his weak side for the first time, he spoke. It seemed as though he had no more choices. Trusting Gon would be the only way for him to forget his hold on the past.

"Please. Save me."

* * * * *

Outside in the bitter cold of the night, two figures loomed on a rooftop. One sat silently upon the concrete edge, peering down upon the city's streets with an indifferent expression. His eyes seemed to be focused on a window on a building right across from him.

"You can't wait for him forever, you know," came a voice from behind him. The sound of footsteps came, and soon he felt a careless brush of skin against his clothed arm. His companion gazed at the very same window, tilting his head thoughtfully. "To be honest, I think it's useless to wait at all."

He looked away, shifting his look instead on the firefly-like lights of the street lamps below him. His expression was unreadable like always, and he spoke no words in response to the other's remark.

"Things don't always come your way. I should know. I failed just recently on something I've waited for for so long. Years of patience amount to nothing. It came as so much of a surprise that I forgot how angry I'm supposed to be."

Again, silence.

The man smiled and just shook his head. Mechanically, he produced a deck of cards in his hands and began playing with them, a gesture that he does almost out of instinct. "But thanks for your help anyway."

The other, at least, nodded his response, his eyes still fixed on the city below them.

"I don't think the child ever thought that your illusion of love would last. Your wish to hurt him scared him somehow, whether you both know it or not. Hate bound you to him."

"You know nothing about me," said the silent one, almost too quickly. His patience ran thin. "What makes you think you can say all these things to me?" he asked.

"We share things that bind us with each other."

"It is merely the presence of danger that binds us together."

"Things are much more complicated than that," said the one who held the cards. Golden eyes sparkled dangerously on his face, and leaning in, he claimed the other's lips in a kiss, a kiss that was empty to them both, yet sealed their connection far beyond words could explain. "How does it feel like to be owned by somebody, Illumi?"

Blank eyes stared back at him. "Perhaps the same way it feels like for you, Hisoka."

A hollow laughter rang through the silence of the night, serving as the hidden response to the pale one's last words. The magician's presence faded into the shadows as he walked away, but somehow his companion knew that he was still there. Waiting for him.

He said that they were bound, and perhaps they really were. None of them dominates the other, serving only as each other's shadows in the bitter dark. And like shadows they merely watch, waiting for something. Perhaps it was for the danger mentioned earlier. Or maybe it was something more complicated, as the other one insisted.

Illumi stood up to follow the path the magician took. But before he moved, his head shifted back to look down at the dark window once again.

Once I lay claim on something, there is no letting go.

Willing his eyes to look away, his footsteps sounded against the cold concrete. He stopped by the stairway where the other stood, allowing himself to be pulled against that warm body. A hand crept behind his neck, pulling him closer as kisses upon kisses planted themselves upon his skin, willing him to forget his initial worries. For a minute, he almost wished that he could, but something in his mind kept him, and his eyes drifted back to that one window.

Believe in your little illusion for now, Killua. This game is far from over.

- End -

A/N: Oookay...that was weird. But do tell me what you think. That is...if anybody actually lasted this far without wanting to ring my neck o.O