Wow, that update was fast. This was not where I saw this going, but it went there, oops. Next two chapters will be confrontations, and then maybe some happy? No guarantees, angsty Leopikas are what come naturally.
Disclaimer: I do not own HxH, I only own the sick and twisted ideas that lead the HxH characters down this fanmade path.
When Leorio opened the door, Kurapika was nowhere to be found.
He panicked, hot blooded, immediate cold sweat type panic. The bedroom they shared was completely void of life, the blankets of the bed in the center of the room thrown off to the side in a messy heap. The doctor's eyes wandered frantically, searching for a sign of the other in the dingy room.
His mind raced as he stood, paralyzed in the doorway. There was no way he could've gotten far by himself; he couldn't even walk, and he was sure he hadn't pissed the blond off to that extent yet (though it had been close on a few calls). But if someone had helped him, rather, if someone had moved him there were few contenders, meaning-
His thoughts were cut off a he tore through the main room, making sure he hadn't missed anything on his way in before stumbling back into the bedroom, finding it still empty. There was a small noise on the far end of the room, perking his ears, when the obvious occurred to him. Still in huffed panic, he threw the only remaining door open, pausing only for a moment at the sight inside.
Kurapika was face down on the bathroom floor, legs sprawled at unnatural angles, shaking and breathing rapidly.
Leorio rushed to his side immediately, turning the younger man over and supporting his head. The blond hissed at the movement, pushing weakly at the other's grip like a petulant child. The one eye that was not covered with bandages narrowed, deepening in color as Leorio shifted to try and pick him up.
"Let me go, Leorio," the Kurta barked, coughing violently as soon as he did. Leorio ignored the leg that was trying to kick at him, instead pulling the other closer so that his head was supported by his upper arm.
"What were you… never mind. We're getting you back to bed. You need to stop doing this, Kurapika." The blond fought the urge to spit at him, since his head was still too far to bite effectively, but settled on scratching at his arm with dull fingernails.
"Put me down. You know damn well that I'm not trying to escape; you can let me do this alone." Escape? Since when had he become the warden of a prison, Leorio wondered. He sighed, but loosened his grip. Still, he had no intention of letting the other go.
"Kurapika, you're the most reasonable person I know, so why are you fighting me? You can't even make it in here by yourself. I'm a doctor. Let me at least get you to-" The noise that the blond made to cut him off was painful for both of them, Leorio understanding the pure, raw frustration that gargled from his inflamed throat.
"I don't care if you're a doctor; you're still Leorio. Will you not leave me at least my dignity?" The older of the two faltered, his heart aching at the way the other seemed on the verge of tears over his temporary disability. The shaking had worsened as Kurapika held himself back, no longer fighting but so very angry, that Leorio couldn't help but tighten the arms around him for a moment. Only for a moment.
"Fine. Just let me get you there. Let me get you out. I think you opened something when you fell, so afterwards you'll let me clean you up, okay?" The body in his arms went lax, the open eye growing dull before closing. Leorio would have been frightened at the change if not for the way the fist at his side clenched, strong despite it all.
"Yes." It was spoken through clenched teeth, but it was a weak plea, and all that Leorio needed. He hoisted the other up, cringing at the way the blond's broken leg hung heavily, before getting him situated. The Kurta refused to look at him, eye faded, remaining completely unmoving until Leorio left the small room.
It had come in the form of a blessing that the old man from the medical facility had chosen to live out the rest of his days there, and that he had been kind enough to offer up his residence to the two travelers who, like him, had ventured in from the outside world. Kurapika had been intent on refusing, but Leorio, having two working legs and the ability to stay conscious for more than twenty minutes at a time took the advantage, agreeing wholeheartedly to the arrangement while the other slept. He had, of course, emphasized that they would only be staying as long as it took for the blond to heal enough for them to travel, even offered up his father's real gold watch as collateral, but the older man had refused, smiling sadly as he explained that homes were meant to be live in, not died in. He'd taken Kurapika there the next day, carrying him while under his last sedating dose. He'd woken up bewildered and afraid, but the doctor had been right there, grasping his hand as he struggled into awareness, telling him that everything was going to be alright.
That was the last time Kurapika trusted him to be cared for, relaxing into the soft touch long enough to fall back into sleep, but waking again to be cold. Distant.
When Leorio was called back in, disdain dripping from his name like poison, he found the other standing over the sink, barely keeping himself up. He didn't comment on it, just slipped his arm under the other's legs and carried him back to the bed.
The silence was heavy as the doctor worked, bathing the other with a wet cloth before tending to his wounds. Kurapika didn't put up a fight, just moved as he had to, letting his eyes close with exhaustion when he deemed it necessary. Leorio took great pains for each of his touches to be gentle, no more than brushing against the other's soft skin when he had to. If Kurapika noticed, he made no sign of it.
He took care of the other's abdomen first; the wound had in fact opened, but wasn't as bad as he expected. It took a little re-stitching, nothing too extreme, but the blond made it a point to glare at him through the entire process. Leorio whispered profuse apologies until the other flicked him on the forehead, muttering something about how he wasn't the one who should apologize. Half the time, Leorio wasn't sure if Kurapika was angry at him, or at himself.
The leg was next. It had turned a sickly yellow from the internal bruising, the splint pushing against it unevenly. It had been the best he could do at the time, fashioning a brace out of the medieval wooden casts that completely failed to serve their purpose. Here, he could only do what he could to make the other comfortable, using Nen from time to time to make sure that he was healing correctly. Still, it was guess work without the proper machinery to help him visualize the wound, to draw out where the cracks were and how the bones had settled. Kurapika winced as his leg was moved, Leorio shooting him a sheepish glance as he did, but it was a necessary pain to assess the more damaged areas.
He hesitated when reaching for the other's face, the Kurta raising an eyebrow at him as he did. The wrappings around the blond's head had at one time been tight, but after over a week of wear the bindings had begun to wind down around the sides, ends poking out where they had torn. He wavered in using his knife, cutting a single piece of cloth with it, for fear of taking a strand of gold by accident.
The dirtied cloth fell easily, Leorio taking his time in unwinding it. He was less concerned with the strips of cloth than he was with the gauze underneath, which was cushioning the other's eye. It was terribly swollen when he'd patched the other up, but it had been long enough that it needed confiscation either way. He removed the gauze with slow precision, wiping around the edges with the wet cloth to aid in its removal. He rubbed over the other's closed eyelid, which was back to a normal size and color, tossing the dirtied square into the bin in the corner. Kurapika opened his eye slowly, blinking with difficulty as he did, before he was able to look at the other unencumbered.
"There," Leorio murmured to himself, unthinking, swiping his thumb across the blond's cheek and smoothing his hair out of the way with the other hand. "There's that beautiful face I missed."
Two years ago, during the weeks that he had been in near constant company of the doctor, Kurapika would have found himself blushing, stammering some sort of claim to ridiculousness. At this, though, he did nothing more than stare blankly. Leorio faltered, pulling his hand back slowly, more thrown by the other's non-response than his own words.
Oh, what it was like, not to feel.
The doctor's face fell, hands drawing back as he collected his tools and the waste. He stood, making his way over to the dresser across from the bed where his briefcase resided to deposit what didn't need cleaning, before disappearing into the bathroom to wash the rest. Kurapika listened with closed eyes as the water ran, turning toward the door as it stopped, but finding no one there. It was another minute before the older man returned, eyes redder than he'd remembered. The blond swallowed roughly as he walked past, without so much as a glance, to tidy the rest of his things.
Driving Leorio to insanity would surely make it all easier. Even so, he found himself regretting each act that pushed the other further away.
"Leorio," he tested, his voice uncharacteristically meek. This was a moment of weakness, nothing more, his mind whispered as he spoke. You can allow yourself at least one. "You should get some sleep."
The doctor's eyes flicked over to the blond as a small hand patted the bed next to where he lay, the younger man trying to move himself over without much success. The doctor shook his head quickly, fiddling with the top two buttons of his dress shirt and pulling the corners from the waistband of his pants. It felt suffocating.
"Just come to bed, Leorio," he tried to sound aggravated, but all that came out was a sorrowful plea. He cursed himself mentally for the way the words rolled off of his tongue. "It's cold."
For a moment, it seemed to render the reaction he had wanted. The doctor's hand twitched where it stopped near his neck, his eyes downcast. Without looking at the blond, he began to walk over to the edge of the bed, stopping abruptly at the other's side. Kurapika went to shift, stopping suddenly as something fell into a heap in his lap. It was another moment before the lump of brown registered as a blanket, Leorio's blanket, the one that had kept him from freezing to death as he slept in the chair by the Kurta's bedside. Kurapika's hands fisted in the material as he looked up, genuinely confused for all of a second before the doctor strode toward the door, stopping in its frame.
"I'll make us a cup of tea. Then you should get some rest, Kurapika."
He walked into the kitchen, long legs taking him out of sight quickly, before collapsing against the countertop, contemplating the meanings of hurt and confusion. He took his time, stalling in filtering the murky water through the city's only innovative form of technology, in lighting the fire, in seeking out the old man's collection of herbs and infusers. Even with the fire alight and the ingredients assembled, it was all Leorio could do to stare, the chill of the evening not touching his sweat slickened skin.
The sound of soft sobs broke through the impasse. Leorio brought the kettle to the burner, hoping its whistling would drown them out.
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