Warning: This chapter contains mentions of death, desecrated corpses, as well as major violence.

Hi everyone, I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's a little everyone-centric (less so about Gon, since he had his limelight in the last one). Thanks to paperhearts7 for betaing for me- I wouldn't have noticed any of the things you pointed out on my own!

Also, to whoever left me the anonymous review on Nov 4th around Midnight, thank you. Really, I have no words to express how that made me feel. But it was good. So thank you.(...pleasebemyfriend...)

Notes about Updates at the end!

Waking was usually an unpleasant ritual, a reminder that sleep was a time of vulnerability. It was disorienting, blurred like a distant dream, and often resembling one as memories faded into the background. Waking was a sign that life continued, whether the sleeping wished it or not.

This time though, he felt warm.

Sunlight brushed his eyelids, forcing him to blink a few times before the world came into focus. Even before being able to see he knew he was safe- there was softness against his cheek and heat around his toes, and a far off memory of what could have been a home. This, he mused in his half-conscious state, was what peace felt like.

The first thing he saw was immediately recognizable, he'd seen it often enough. Leorio's back was to him, his breathing even in sleep. He'd changed out of his dress shirt, a white tank leaving his shoulders and neck mostly exposed. Lines of tension were woven through visible skin, disturbing the ease that he should have shown. He wanted to reach out, to smooth away the worry, but something held him back. He shifted, looking down, startled at what he found.

His hands, bandaged thickly to resemble mittens, were bound together at the wrists.

He could recognize the other's handiwork without question in the way he felt no discomfort, yet still struggled to stretch his fingers. They felt slick inside their casing, as if coated with oil, and also a little numb, something he was sure he should be thankful for. It was a moment before the memories from the night before returned to him, his unwillingness to revisit them the most present cause. He'd shown up, after weeks of absence, to bleed on the other's doorstep. This time, he'd gone too far.

It had to end.

The bonds holding him captive, he knew, were meant for his own safety: there was no doubt in his mind that Leorio had been worried about further self-harm. It was also the reason he choose to sleep beside him: had the situation been different, had he given Leorio another choice, the doctor would have been nowhere in sight. He'd done more than enough to deserve that, the Kurta thought bitterly, reminding himself that once again the other had chosen to stay despite his resolution to distance himself. He'd forsaken that, just to make sure Kurapika would sleep without conflict.

The blond sat up slowly, trying his best not to cause any shifting in the mattress as he did, but knowing that the other had awoken anyway. Even so, he did not move, feigning sleep and fighting to keep his breathing from changing. Again, giving the other a chance to leave.

But he did not.

He almost lost his voice when he opened his mouth to speak, but pushed on despite the crack that sounded. The doctor twitched visibly, the pretense of sleep fading as he turned to face the other's voice.

"Leorio."

The doctor was shocked at the way Kurapika looked at him, calm and even, meeting his eyes without hesitation. It was different than usual- the directness of his gaze not meant to distract from more difficult questions of his whereabouts or wellbeing, just pure, unadulterated Kurapika. It was almost like when they first met, before his vengeance had been given the opportunity to truly thrive. It was enough to give him pause.

"It's about time we talked."

The doctor sat up with great reluctance, keeping a palpable distance from the other side of the bed. Kurapika watched him settle, keeping quiet until he was sure he could speak without thinking too deeply about what he wanted to say. It was easier, to focus on the other and let the words flow without allowing time for inhibition.

"It's been about a decade since I buried them. My friends. My family. Those beholden to me. I'm sure I've never told you about that- of the sights and smells of rotting bodies and of the rain. It's infinitely harder to dig when the rain keeps turning the dirt into mud as it goes. Infinitely harder when you were considered one of the weaker children in the tribe, in terms of physical strength. I kept slipping as I tried to haul earth out of the way for a proper burial, kept falling into the holes I dug along with those who I placed there. A few times after falling in, I was sure I'd never be able to climb back out. I remember that very clearly- the terror that I experienced when stuck in a pit only a few feet from the surface, the body of a neighbor or relative curled around my feet. The rest of my feelings were muddled, anguish and sickness, the near constant heaving of bile and stinging of forming blisters on my hands as I tried but failed to do them justice. After falling, I dug shallower graves, for fear of being trapped in one alive. Some of those bodies are surely long gone because of the work I did."

He blinked rapidly, as if experiencing a lucid dream while speaking, not knowingly looking away from Leorio but not quite meeting his gaze. It lasted seconds, the blond lifting his fallen head and remaking contact before speaking again.

"I didn't bury them right away, perhaps half a day after I found them. I don't really know. Time seemed to stop after I found my mother. I lay down next to her when I did, for a long while, just to be near her. What was left of her."

Leorio didn't know what to think as the other paused, breath shaky. He'd asked, as many times as he could when the situation had allowed, but not once had Kurapika reiterated any memory of the incident to him. He'd always just stared into nothing, blank as stone, before standing and walking away. Despite this, he could not find words to fill the empty space. It did not last, either way.

"My desire for vengeance has always been obvious to me, and more recently accessible. From the time I'd finished putting them in the ground, I knew that I would become something capable of taking every life that had snuffed out my people, in equal number, in equal brutality if necessary. I have always been prepared to kill those who have already killed. I have long since accepted that as a form of evil, but in the past few years I have also embraced it. It was all that mattered. It was all that defined who I am.

Leorio, I'm afraid.

I'm beginning to forget things, the things that defined my existence before, the things that made hate so necessary. I can't remember how certain games I used to play as a child were done, or the words to the lullabies that my mother would sing every night. The names of traditional foods and folklore are fading, no more than distant recollections and fuzzy images. It's all been replaced, replaced by anger and plans and training regimens. All I see, all the time, is nothing but red. I don't even know if I can stop. And that frightens me."

Leorio swallowed hard as heavy tears escaped the edges of his companion's eyes, though the look in them did not change. Rather, as wet trails made their way down his face, the blond smiled up at him, tired and refreshed and helpless all at once.

"You were right all along, Leorio. I don't know who I've become, and that is not something I can blame the Ryoudan for."

"Kurapika…" By now, it was taking every effort the doctor had not to reach out to comfort the other, despite the hurt and anger he had felt at his appearance. He held back, though, knowing that something was still yet to come, and while not knowing what it was, understanding that it was to mark an important change. For better or worse, he knew he would have to endure.

"I know I have no right to ask anything of you – I shouldn't even be here, under the circumstances- but I don't trust myself. I don't trust anyone. Except you. I've entrusted my life to you over and over again, but now I'd like to hand over my soul. Will you, Leorio… will you help me?"

His heartbeat slowed, he could hear its reverberations inside of his head. Of all things, of all nightmarish possibility, this was not what he had prepared himself for. He could only stare, humbled and bewildered as the blond in front of him cried silently, unblinkingly, waiting for his answer. He took in the sight of him, Kurapika now in clean clothes, his bandaged hands, the reddening around his eyes instead of within them, wondering if it was real. Wondering if, just possibly, the other had decided to live for his own sake.

He reached out, the Kurta's breath catching as he did, but stopped.

"I… I don't believe you."

The blond's eyes dulled at his words, sending a pain through both of their chests. At this, he did look away, trying to wipe away the moisture around his eyes with his bound hands and great difficulty. Leorio watched, surprisingly numb to it, and spoke before giving the other a chance.

"If I've wished for one thing, since I've known you, it's been this. But I don't believe you'd accept it so easily."

And Kurapika laughed, a sad, pitiable sound from his throat, incredulous and broken. It took the other off of his guard, just as much as the way he was looked at did. Understanding, and hurt all the same.

"Of course you don't. I don't either – not completely. That's why I need you, Leorio. I am so close to being destroyed by this, this quest, this thing, that I realize I'm no longer in control. I understand that I am not myself, and yet, I do not know what it means to be myself. But you do. You know me, you see in me what I cannot. I just want it to end, Leorio. I just want to be at peace."

"Why," the doctor began, finding himself in the dark space between angry and afraid, "does it sound to me like you're speaking of dying?" Kurapika grew quiet for a moment, lost for words as he tried to figure that out for himself.

"Perhaps because it is, in a way. Perhaps because if I don't do this, I will. Undoubtedly, if I continue on as I have been, I won't make it another year." From the look in his eyes, it was not a prospect he took lightly. That, his seriousness, was enough. "Will you help me, Leorio?"

Arms were wrapping around the Kurta before he could comprehend what was happening, his whole body stiffening for a moment before he relaxed into the hold. Leorio's hand was in his hair, pressing his face into the other's muscled chest, warm and safe. There was a shaking, and though neither of them could tell which one had started it, it had spread to both of them in no time.

"All I've been waiting for is for you to ask."

And with great skepticism, and trust needing to be earned, the doctor untied the bonds around the other's hands.

They stayed together, lying in bed and speaking deeper secrets between bouts of comfortable silence for hours, perhaps half a day.

Then, they got to work. There wasn't much to do on their end, after speaking with Alluka. Kurapika had laid his intentions out as soon as the doctor had given him enough room to breathe, while not quite letting him go. Of all things, Leorio couldn't think of anything better for them to do, anything better for Killua. Alluka had agreed, offering to make the arrangements for them. Neither of the men had any qualms, happy to work with whatever she thought would be best for her brother.

That left a final task before collecting the boy and running far, far away.

Finding Gon was not a problem; he always seemed to pop up not far from Killua. Talking to him, trying to make him see reason, was. Leorio was beyond his capacity for trying, as Kurapika could see, so the blond had urged that it would probably better if he approached the younger one. Though Kurapika's presence had always been scarce in the other's life, he seemed convinced that hearing it from another would be more effective than if Leorio were to try again. The doctor was happy to give it a shot, but didn't bother hiding how wary he was. Gon was anything if not stubborn, and it would be a long time before Kurapika held his faith. Still, he'd let him try.

They were careful in their approach, the surprise that was Kurapika their ace in the hole.

More captivating than watching the gears in the younger one's head turn as he was being addressed was the way the blond spoke, as if all of his internal strife had been cleared away to reveal a singular path. Leorio couldn't help but to stare when the Kurta voiced words of regret, speaking aloud realization that he hadn't even dared dream of. He watched, as the other suffered quietly in the acknowledgement of what had been done, and as the teen sitting in between them processed his words before agreeing. Everything, finally, seemed to be falling into place.

Leorio would have been suspicious if not for the overwhelming, titillating joy that came with walking away, the blond at his side.

They prepared to leave that night. Leorio took great pains to pack enough for the both of them in a small carry-on case- he'd snuck extra gauze and other supplies in while the Kurta had been busy making tea. In turn, Kurapika had spent what remained of the afternoon and most of the evening washing the blood stains off of his tabard, determined to wear it the next day. The doctor was unsure which sight he preferred: the image of his friend from their days in the Exam or the young man currently wandering around his living room in borrow sweatpants. Both were appealing in their own way.

Even with the additional bandages, they'd packed light, knowing that most things could be acquired when they arrived at their destination. According to Alluka, they were to take a night train across the continent, heading east. It made sense, of all directions to choose: to the north was Killua's home country, to the west memories of Yorkshin, and to the south whispers of the NGL that was. East seemed safest, a journey to the seaside, with new adventures in store. They'd never given the ocean much thought, besides crossing it with necessary burden on other trials. This time, perhaps, they could find some time to let the waves and sand bring them peace.

There was a little house there, a safe house, abandoned out of a lack of necessity but in perfect condition. The director had used it as a sanctuary back in her days as a student, struggling to memorize the innumerable adaptations that could be made to a body with the correct application of Nen. It had been her solace of self discipline and discovery, and she was more than happy to pass along its good will to the others. Particularly, to her colleague and his friends.

The thought was idyllic enough to surpass all of Leorio's fanciful daydreams, and it was only a few days journey away.

What really pulled at his heart, what really showed him that something was changing came when the doors to the hospital opened up. He'd been watching the former assassin closely for reaction, giddy at the surprise that lay in wait, but his expectations did not do it justice. He'd thought that the two would exchange heartfelt words, perhaps even a small moment in the form of contact. It stopped his breath when Killua looked up, all worry and anxiety fading into the background as the figure in front of him became clear, more than just an image. It was the way he ran to him, captured the blond in his embrace, that Leorio began to understand the extent to which- even after his departure- Killua had been afraid. It had felt nothing other than right to take them both into his arms, laughing with pure joy at the sight of them, appreciating what a gift he'd been given. In that moment, seeing how the two cared and were cared for in return, he couldn't have been prouder.

Though positive in trajectory, the days had been nothing short of exhausting for all three of them. They were boneless by the time they arrived in their compartment on the train, each of them ready for some well-deserved sleep but not wanting to succumb before having their fill of one another. Killua was determined to hear everything Kurapika had to offer about his reunion with the doctor, a story which was censored somewhat and told with shocking embarrassment, though the eldest of the three couldn't blame him. The blond's self-harm was not something he was keen on revisiting, making him thankful for the appropriate edits despite knowing that Killua had filled in the blanks for himself. Observing the Kurta's storytelling was mystifying, especially with the pronounced shyness that came with it. He'd never seen Kurapika as self-conscious as he did then, something he made a mental note of and stored in the back of his mind. Things, it seemed, were changing.

It wasn't long before all three began to drift into a peaceful slumber, the sounds of the steam engines and swirling colors of the outside passing by lulling them gently on their way. Kurapika was the first out, leaning gently onto Killua (who was determined to stay by the other's side- lest he suddenly run off after trouble yet again). Leorio followed quickly thereafter, at ease with the presence of the others. Killua, however, tried his best to stay awake, basking in the company of the closest thing he considered family before letting his eyelids droop.

He was the second to notice, and too late even at that.

"This isn't the station," Leorio had spoken, confused by the sudden slowing and then stop of the train. The lights flickered, dark on the inside suddenly matching the outside night before the auxiliary power kicked in, painting the compartment in red. Killua blinked slowly, lifting his wrist to rub the sleep from his eyes as the meaning of the other's words sunk in. It all happened before his hand could reach his face.

He felt the body pulled out from beneath him and the hit of the cold air before the sound had even registered. When it did, it landed with a painful blow, nearly rupturing his right eardrum in the process. There was a nearly instantaneous smell of sulfur overtaking the air- from the fallen ash from the volcanic mountains in the background. When he inhaled, the shock enough to sustain the loss of a few seconds, he could taste malice on his tongue. It was this, the culmination of his senses, that served as explanation for the spectacle in front of him. The side of the train car had been completely blown out.

He was moving within the next heartbeat, realizing that the blond had been torn from his side with intent. His trajectory was straight forward, down the slope that had raised the train tracks and toward the looming range of mountains. Leorio wasn't far behind; the younger one would have been impressed with his speed had things been different. The distance was cut short abruptly, what remained of the smoking locomotive still easily visible from where they were standing barely more than a kilometer away. Though he was prepared to jump directly into action, what he found upon stopping froze him in his place.

The blond was being held captive, disturbingly immobile, at the tip of a paper fan.

Kalluto.

Choosing not to move was one of the more difficult things he'd been faced with- not yet in battle, not yet avoiding it. It was a decision made with an intimate knowledge of the face staring him down (or rather, an intimate knowledge about how the owner of said visage had been trained and raised). Kalluto had elected to stop, Killua knowing full well that if he'd wanted to there were a number of means he could have used to make an expedient escape. His friend was still alive: his radiative Nen that was enough to provide him with the benefit of doubt that if Kalluto had intended to kill it would have already been done. Rather, there were other motives at play, motives that needed to be attended to before the violence broke out. Motives that, perhaps, could be played to. Knowing this, he kept very, very still.

That, and if he moved, Kurapika would surely die.

He didn't break eye contact with his brother as Leorio caught up, flaring his aura to signal a stop before the doctor took action himself. Leorio yelled the Kurta's name, earning him a small movement which was suppressed by his captor. His eyes, then, had been open in shock rather than catatonia, to Killua's relief. That was a small blessing, at least.

Kurapika, however, felt differently. Unconsciousness would have been preferable to the state he was in, or at least equally as useless. With the damage to his hands and the bindings wrapped around them it was impossible to summon his purposefully crafted chains, blood pooling from where he had tried. They were flickers of solidity at best, biting into his raw skin with the effort. If the chance came, one move would be all he had, a single blow with a single series of links from the place of least damage. Otherwise, his fate was in the other's grasp.

He did not like those odds.

"Hello, Nii-san."

Killua's eyes narrowed at the sound of the other's voice. It was slightly deeper than it had been when they were children, taking on the same almost inquisitive tone that his oldest brother's did. He hadn't really noticed the difference before, under those circumstances of extreme duress, not that he'd said much. His penchant seemed to be in watching, as he always had. Watching, as the truth was lain out in front of him, whether he liked the outcome or not.

I should have saved you, too.

"I didn't expect to see you here. Not after our last meeting. I thought you'd never leave Allu, after that."

He was disturbed by the way his brother addressed his sister- the lack of honorifics and shortening of her name sounded like the perversion of a pet name as it rolled off his tongue. There was no intonation to it, no respect, no overt disrespect, just seeming curiosity. That was enough to terrify him.

"Kalluto," he started slowly, ignoring the obvious attempt at rousing his wild rage. "I don't know what you think you're doing, but let Kurapika go."

The younger boy raised an eyebrow at him mildly, as if he'd been told something blatantly uninformed. It was with almost childlikeness that he cocked his head to the side, the shorter layers of his hair that imitated the bob he once had drifting off to one side as he did. His hair had gotten longer; it was folded neatly into a comb in the back, giving the illusion of a shorter cut than he had, his two straight forelocks revealing its true length. He still wore flowery kimono, if Killua was not mistaken, resembling a furisode. How he'd changed with age, to look like the proper apprentice to a samurai lord. Or, to look like one's lover.

"I can't do that, Nii-san. Not yet. I came here for something – something important to someone important to me. I'm sure you can understand that, can't you, Nii-san?"

He wondered if the other was trying to be cute with his coy speech and nonchalance that was uncharacteristic of him. It was his impatience that aided his ability to adapt quickly to situations, making him almost as talented at Killua in the art of killing. Patience must have been something that the Zoldycks could not teach him. He'd found others to do that for him.

"Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it here." Leorio chimed in, his eyes darting from one pale skinned boy to the other, head searching frantically for a strategy. "Let him go."

Kalluto didn't even bother acknowledging the doctor's presence, instead shifting his grip on the blond so that he was holding him with the same hand that threatened his life. His free hand darted out quickly, fingers brushing over the blond's cheekbones. Though his talon-like nails touched skin, they did not leave so much as a mark.

"Really, you're so very troublesome, hunting after the Troupe like that. You should see how angry he gets when we hear you're in the same area as we are. It really isn't fun, dealing with him when he's angry." Kalluto flicked his eyes back up to Killua, locking his gaze as if to signal that he was done speaking to the Kurta. "We aren't allowed to kill him, if that's what you're worried about. That's something special, just for Danchou. The others used to wonder why he was so concerned about the Chain Wielder, but now we're beginning to see it. He's like a shadow, always there when we least want our presence known."

That piece of information, the order not to kill, was enough to have Killua testing his boundaries the moment his brother stopped for breath. He stepped forward, just to try to close the distance, but the moment he did the fan was pressing into the blond's throat, an impossibly thin line of red ruining the untainted white of the paper.

"No, no, Nii-san. I really don't want to kill him- he'd be so upset with me if I did- but I will hurt him if you try to stop me. Just for you, Nii-san, I'm willing to restrain myself. See how grown up I am, not to play with my prey?" The boy's face went from entirely impassive to unhallowed in a second, eyes deepening and smile becoming more crooked as he continued. "They had to explain to me why he was so determined to come after us, since I wasn't a part of it then. When I found out, I knew what I could do to impress him. Even after all these years, he still treats me like an outsider, like a child, even though we're all family. So I thought I'd bring Feitan a present, to show him just how serious I am."

And then Kalluto was moving, so quickly that Killua did not see until it had already been done, until red was streaming down Kurapika's face and a sound utterly inhuman had filled the air. He stood, paralyzed like he had when he was twelve and staring down Illumi in the last stage of the Hunter's exam, but with the wrong brother. Frozen, he listened to the last words he would hear from the other that night, prophesizing battles that he had only himself to blame for.

"Because I love you so much, Nii-san, I'll only take one of his eyes."

Leorio screamed.

Thanks for reading! If you like what you see, leave me a nice comment (but please don't ask about the ending. Please. I'm begging here. Thanks.)

Notes on Updates: So, because I'm in a bit of a financial situation, I'm going to be taking a short break from Uncertainty to work on commissions (there will still be updates! Just less frequently.). YES: COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN AGAIN. If you have something you'd like to see done, feel free to shoot me an email or msg on one of my profiles (I do all kinds of writing work). If you're currently in my request queue and would like to see your story sooner, feel free to make it a commission job and I'll put you at the top of the list!
Otherwise, I'd really appreciate it if any of you who have been reading could spread the word that I'm accepting commissions. If you have tumblr, a shout out would mean the world to me. I'm entirely willing to negotiate pricing and have even been known to draw in the margins for special projects :)