AN: / Gon and Killua finally break.
[ Warning: Graphic depictions of Violence. Language. A heck of a lot of abuse, brief description of rape, tons of flashbacks; etc. ]
This thing is so long fricken overdo. I am so sorry. I cannot apologize enough. I don't want to burden nor annoy anybody by rambling about my own predicament, as I am sure everyone has their fair share of struggles; so I will simply just apologize, bow my head, and hope nobody has forgotten me just yet all this time. Again, I thank anyone and all who still stick around or happen to read this, for being there.
This chapter is graphic, violent, and was very difficult to write because I was not sure how I wanted to go about it. But I finally did, and despite not liking it, I'm going to post it before I bury myself in a writing block. Comments and critic is always welcome. Again, I apologize. But like I always say, things get explained as we go. Thank you.
Enjoy.
iKudo: Pshhh. It gets explained now (sort of?) but it'll all make sense hopefully in the long run. THANK YOU AHHHH. I appreciate it!
MeowMeowChwan: No no thank youuu awe.~
Psychosis
Noun
1. A severe mental disorder in which thought and emotions are so impaired that contact is lost with external reality.
2. Any severe form of mental disorder; as schizophrenia or paranoia for example.
"Just to get high."
"What the hell are you talking about, Gon? It's me, Killua. Your friend?"
It was around a minute until Killua finally pulled out the courage to speak, because walking in on someone you've grown believing was your trusted friend – and more – disregarding as if you were a commonplace stranger, hurt. It hurt, inexplicably, and Killua couldn't come up with an immediate reply, simply standing there with his tongue rolling around his mouth and his teeth grinding together. Yet none of that was curbing his anxiety, and if Killua didn't speak up, then what would happen then?
Gon would probably just run off, flee from this 'stranger' and that would be the end of it; as Killua gave up before he even tried.
No.
"Take it, please. And live. Live Killua. Help Gon. Help your friend. By whatever means, please. He helped me. So please, help him. He needs you."
And so, Killua squared his shoulders, reminding himself that this was just 'the drugs talking' and all would be over soon, and edged closer. Gon did not budge, but the confusing word still hung in the air, stiff like silence.
"Er. Friend?"
"Yes, friend." Killua enunciated, waving his hand in the air for emphasis, then pointed between him and Gon twice. "I'm your friend, Gon. Remember the Hunter Exams? Where we met?"
The gears were turning slowly in Gon's mind, Killua could tell, but at the rate he was processing information it'd take him a decade and then some until he understood. Killua did the only thing he could think of, right off the bat, to assist his companion.
He punched him, straight across the face.
Fortunately, Killua took the much required time to curb his strength and Gon only flew a few good feet then promptly fell to the forest floor below, tangled in weeds and lumps of grass he took in the unwelcome trajectory through a couple of bushes. Killua flinched, covering his mouth with a small 'ouch' and Gon spat out a wad of dirt with big, yellow brown eyes blinking rapidly in puzzlement. His lip was split, specks of blood on his cheek and jawline, but visibly little damage overall.
And then his face twisted from blank and expressionless to beaming with realization that turned into over abundant joy. Killua sputtered.
"Killua!"
Gon jumped and Killua tried to sideswipe away but was caught by a tanned skinned arm outstretched, snatching him up in a giant bear hug that had the young assassin squirming and wheezing for relief. "G-Gon, s-stop, you're killing me. Let go!"
"Oh. Oops, sorry Killua."
Carefully, Gon sat up and allowed Killua to rise from the ground, dusting at his clothes with a disgruntled face that wanted nothing more then to deck Gon another one, using at least half his strength this time. But this was Gon, so of course he couldn't say no, let alone break from his desire for this. His friend, smiling ear to ear as he stared at him, ever pleasant on the mood. Killua didn't realize how much he really missed this; since leaving to earn his Hunter's license, until this very moment.
Fuck, I'm still crushing hard aren't I?
"Uhm, so, Gon-" Killua laughed, awkwardly, and Gon's head cocked to the side curiously, "-How, well, how have you been?"
"Great!" Gon answered, too fast to be normal. He fist pumped a few times, shuffling in his spot as he rose to his feet to tower over the kneeling white-haired teen. He threw his arms up and laced them behind his head, eyes fluttering shut with a smile. "I've never been better, actually."
Killua felt his heart drop like a rock in his chest to his gut below. So, Gon really hadn't missed him as much as he did Gon? He would have been more bummed if a slim part of him hadn't anticipated this happening. And as it laughed, oh, how he loathed that part of him.
It wasn't quite an undeniable truth but neither was it entirely a lie, either.
Killua's words tumbled around in his mouth, like his tongue again, then bowed his head and nodded slightly. "I see. Well, that's good to know then."
"Did you pass and get your license?"
Without saying anything, Killua flashed the dumb piece of plastic in the air, its glossy shine reflecting off Gon's dark skin while the islander teen laughed and fingered it with a grin. "Wow, yours looks so much more nicer then mine."
Killua dropped the thing back into his pocket and shrugged. "They're the exact same cards, idiot, just with different numbers printed on the back and our names. They don't look any different then each others."
"It's nicer then mine." repeated Gon. Killua squinted one eye open; since he had closed them awhile back, and his sapphire irises widened in surprise. Gon's face had taken on a more malevolent appearance, amber eyes like molten fire, burning black and angry that Killua was twitching in its stare. He moved back, averting their gaze, and caught a glimpse of those teeth bared at him, curling past Gon's upper lip in a weird snarl.
What the hell?
"It's nicer then mine." Again, Gon said, and Killua huffed, swinging to face him with a scowl.
"Yeah, I heard you the second time, Gon. You don't have to repeat yourself."
"Well it is." Gon defended, his expression darkening to a point. Killua actually wanted to move, because he looked like a bull ready to charge suddenly, and he had no clue why or what was causing this sudden change. "It's nicer then mine."
But it was frightening and Killua wanted no part in it, even if this was Gon.
"Tch, Gon-"
"Hey, Gon-"
There was a strange man coming towards Gon; muscled arm outstretched and fingers snapping like a pair of jaws readying to grapple with him. Gon saw flashes of old reoccurring memories of people grasping him, of people yelling and beating and abusing him so closely in his ears that he could even make out the soft echoes of their breaths on his skin. There was goosebumps there when he turned, eyes widening upon instinct, and as he moved to see this stranger approach he did the next best thing he could think of.
He swung his fist straight at them.
BAM.
As much as Killua kind of deserved the punch from Gon for the one he dealt earlier, he didn't expect it to be as powerful as what he had delivered, because he was flying through the air so fast and hard that the snap of branch and bone was more then enough to give him a clear message that this was about to get ugly.
Much uglier.
Killua tried, but in vain, to right his position from the strength of the blow, but he was unfortunate when he was hurled through a nearby bush and straight into a huge, hidden rock face. His arm had been thrown out to catch his fall much to his mistake of calculations and the force shoved his limb away and in, the sickening crack of his elbow to his wrist ringing clear as day. His arm folded in and his shoulder and side took the rest of the damage. With a pained groan, Killua sagged to the ground like a broken lump.
Thankfully (in a cruel, unjust way thanking his parents) for Killua, he had, had his fair share of broken limbs and was accustomed to the pain, but it made it no less pleasant to deal with in this sort of situation.
"Damnit." He cussed out loud and curled up on his unscathed side, limp and dangling arm cradled into his chest. There was no way he could pop this back into place, it was obviously shattered somewhere around the base of his elbow. The side of his right jaw was starting to swell and his tongue licked over a few cracks in his teeth that he received from Gon's steel-knuckled fist, wincing when he tasted blood on his gums. He spat out a glob of red and his glare traveled from the ground up to the slowly approaching Gon, looking passive and nonchalant as ever. "What the hell, Gon?"
"Killua." Gon called out and like a light switch that flipped from on and off in seconds, his face lightened back up and he was grinning again, so broadly that it swallowed up half his face in a sickening gesture. Killua grimaced. "Hey, what are you doing?"
Although Killua wanted to shove his broken arm's fist right down his friend's throat (and he could have, too) he didn't and hissed out. "What does it look like I'm doing, idiot? You just punched me and expect me to act all happy-go-lucky like you? What the fuck is your problem?"
"I don't know."
"It feels like there's bugs beneath my skin." Gon said, dragging his fingernails across his calves and thighs as if he was intending to itch, but wasn't sure how hard to press. The boy with brown hair nodded, sitting beside him as he poked at the thick red lines on his own knees, laughing.
"That's because there are bugs in there. And the only way to get them out is to scratch until they come out."
Gon bobbed his head and glanced back down, trying again and this time pushing much harder then the last. He hissed and was mesmerized by the blood that bubbled to the surface from the disorganized surface marks, wondering if it was possible to see the bugs flow up and out with the liquid, free him from this itch.
They didn't.
"I don't know." Gon recited out loud then reached up, crossing his arms over his chest, and began to scratch, hard, into his exposed arms. So hard, that his sharp nails drew blood from jagged lines and Killua felt stomach acid rise in his throat, horrified. Gon ran his fingers down the length of his arms to his wrists and then the knuckles before pulling them away, allowing the bit of blood soaking under his nails to drip on the grass at his sides. His arms looked blistered, puffy and gross with flecks of white around the cuts and Killua saw a flash of the same powdery stuff from before on Gon's nails, like a second coating.
Methamphetamine.
Killua almost, almost, threw up there, but held back and swallowed down his own bile before sitting fully upright with his arm supported by his other, hugged to his chest in a defensive way. Blue eyes gazed cautiously into brown and Killua gulped loudly for the other to hear.
"Gon, are you okay?"
"What's wrong with them?" Gon asked, watching two boys rough housing, or at least it, it had started out that way. Now they were full-on fighting; fists and legs swinging in repeated 'thumps' and Gon could hear each blow like blunt trauma on his brain. Somehow, it hurt more for him to watch then it probably did to the pair as they fought each other. He didn't like it. "Why are they doing this? Shouldn't we stop them?"
"Nah." spoke up a half-shaven girl, part of her flaxen hair flowing out on one side while the other was hairless. She waved her hands in the air, fanning out the smokey clouds puffing out her mouth around the spaces the cigar did not cover. "Get in the way of them and they'll just fuck you up even more. Stay here, kid, if you know what's good for you."
"But-"
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Gon's eyes almost exploded in a similar manner like the shorter boy's own skull did, for the back of it ruptured from a bullet wound and blood sprayed out a moment until he collapsed and the red liquid was forced to puddle under his lifeless, prone corpse instead. The other kid blew away the smoke from the gun's barrel, shoved the weapon back into his pocket, and stalked away spitting on the ground at his side. There was a complete hushed silence of the small group around them, the one Gon was gathered in, while they stared emotionless at the dead person laying in a pool of their own blood.
"See? What did I tell you? Get in the way and you're fucked. Dumb ass deserved it for pulling that shit, anyway."
The crowd dispersed, leaving Gon to stand motionless as a statue next to the slowly receding puddle of blood and the body frozen within it.
It took him no more then a heart beat and a blink before he was vomiting off to the side, violent and hard and uncontrolled.
"Shit- Gon!"
Killua jumped to his friend's side, reaching out to grab at Gon's hand; or anything for that matter to show his reassurance because the loud, retched sounds Gon made as he barfed right in front of him was torture. As much as he wanted to loathe Gon for some things; for all the crap they had been through together (and even apart), it didn't make it any better to actually watch your friend suffer before you for their actions. Killua ached, his chest hurting, and he rubbed small circles along Gon's back until the recedes of his coughing made him pull away and another fist swung at him, throwing him on his butt in order to avoid it.
"What the hell was that for moron?!" Killua hissed, unbroken hand splayed in the grass with the other cradled to his chest still. Gon rose to his feet, twisting in place, and a sinister grin flashed on his face. There was specks of bile and saliva gathered around his mouth and he wiped them away on the back of his sleeve with a bitter laugh.
"You hit me." Gon simply said, stepping forward. Killua scooted back an equal distance. "You hit me, so I'm returning the favor."
"No I didn't."
"You did."
"No!" Pushing himself up, Killua met Gon halfway up in place and unfortunately it was Gon's hand who sped by faster, the ex-assassin wheeling sideways from the strength backing that copper fist. He stumbled to regain his balance and swung around again, fire on the tip of his tongue to retort, when Gon charged straight at him and tackled him to the ground. Dirt and leaves clogged Killua's throat, choking on a gasp from the shock of his skull vibrating through the trauma of colliding with solid ground.
"F-fuck." He gargled out his cuss, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Gon wrenched a big handful of white locks in his fist and slammed Killua's head face-first into the ground again unexpectedly, throwing stars across his vision with a wheeze. "G-Gon, s-stop-"
Again and again Gon wrenched up Killua's head only to squash it back down thereafter, that Killua was beyond helpless to fight it. He was already disorientated from his crash in with the rock and the injury to his broken arm wasn't making the pain any less dull then it already was, so to have his head consecutively pile-driven into hard Earth was the least bit pleasant or consulting for his senses.
After around the tenth time (Killua tried to keep track of the number but figured he'd be off by a few) Gon's voice broke the surface of his hazy mind clinging to the edges of reality and unconsciousness. "Shut up." He said, once, then Killua's face was squished into the dirt, unable to reply. The twigs in his white mane was scratching his skull but it was nothing compared to the ache in his head from the pounding of a conflicted emotional migraine. "Don't say anything."
"Don't say anything."
A growl from above and Gon's vision spiraled downward, face-first into the water. He choked for air, for any sort of oxygen, as the icy, unforgiving liquid drained him dry and left him struggling for breath.
Gon felt himself flailing and struggling to break free from the grip on his head, but they were relentless and he was weak.
"Don't speak. Don't say a word. Don't say anything."
A spew of bubbles emptied out his mouth as Gon soundlessly screamed into the depths he was submerged within. It was all he could do in this kind of situation, caught in a punishment of almost being caught by the police stealing from the small rest stop for drug cash.
The others bailed him out. But that was five strikes out and Gon was on his last hit.
The rest of his punishment had been torture, actually, so this was nothing compared to the earlier mishap. He deserved this, he thought, told himself and believed somewhere that maybe it was best to stay quiet-
"GON STOP-! Mmmmpgh!"
Killua's eyes watered, gagging on the huge clump of grass and mud stuffed into his mouth that Gon had placed there, to stifle the sounds, as Gon narrowed his eyes and flipped him over onto his side to rip away at his shirt. Killua's uninjured arm flung out, desperate to defend himself, and he felt his nails filled with warmth when they caught Gon's shoulder and sprayed out a fan of blood into the air. It tore through his jacket, his undershirt, and straight across his sun-speckled skin.
Red gleamed in his vision, dark like the suns rays peeking behind the treetops. At the first hint of blood, Killua froze like a still-frame, unable to move. In the meantime, Gon groaned, teeth grit, and grabbed more dirt from the ground, pushing it all into Killua's face. The dirt that filled the young ex-assassin's nose was gritty, painful, and he couldn't breathe while he thrashed upward with dagger-like nails trying to lash out at anything he could grab, before his wrist was slammed to the ground. Chilly evening air stung his bare torso and something even hotter then blood and pulsing dripped onto his skin, burning hot like a brand.
"Ne, Killua."
There was a look of concern in a young girl's eyes, staring at the burnt patches of skin on the underside of Gon's arms, his wrists, and his elbows. The scorched flesh peeking out behind the exposed areas of his tank-top made her shudder. "Doesn't it hurt?"
"Does it hurt?" Gon repeated the question, glancing at where the acid mixed with Meth had burned straight through, gray white bone shining past.
"Does it hurt, Killua?"
The only reply he got was Killua's gargled scream ringing in Gon's ears while he watched the vial of liquid travel a wobbly line from his friend's pale collarbone to his belly button; scarlet, vengeful, and unforgiving. The same look that flashed into those blue irises, if only for a moment, reflected in Gon's own amber pair.
Somehow, he smiled.
"Does it hurt?" Gon shook his head, smiled, and looked up despite remembering how he was burned by the others. Firstly, for an experiment, and second, for punishment. Failure strangely was one of Gon's strong points after all. "No." He licked his lips and shook the vial above him, twisting off the knob to let it fall naturally down by the pull of gravity. Liquid fell and he shut his eyes, refusing to look.
"No it doesn't."
"FUCK. FUCK- GON. STOP-!"
Tossing aside the emptied vial, Gon flexed out his own blunt nails and dragged them down agonizingly slow over the leftover mark. Killua was coughing and spitting out dirt, frantically trying to clear his mouth of the debris to speak coherently, but Gon's torturous movement across an already inflamed wound was making him seize and jerk away from the touch on pure instinct. Although he had been trained to withstand the cruelest of abuse – This was nothing in comparison to the abuse received from someone he considered much more intimate then friends.
Killua almost wanted nothing more then death, then to suffer through this and think he could endure the rest of his life with a sense of normalcy.
Would things ever be normal after this, either ways?
Gon reached out, grabbing hold of both wrists suddenly, and Killua's world distorted, thrown sideways and slammed into a small spread of very green grass fairly reminiscent of where Gon and himself had shared their first time. Well, in all honesty, it was Killua's first but he did like to pretend it had been Gon's as well if circumstances hadn't bent the way they had. If fate had played out better, the way Killua imagined in his dreams, wanted in his fantasies.
It was a shared moment between them meant to mean something.
But this was nothing like what it should be. Killua knew better then to hope for more then garbage scraps.
The slapping sound of Gon's own skin reverberating from the shock wave of a hand smack was growing tiresome after the tenth time. His cheeks burned, blood draining into his eyes hot and heavy like lead that tried to persuade him to shut his world into darkness. But Gon can't find himself to care too much, too used to the sound of skin hitting skin and the bruising welts that have formed, nor to pay attention to the blood from the head wound sliding down his face.
Red painted his vision, the least, saving him from seeing reality for what it was. Gon was grateful.
There was hushed voices all around him, talking and chatting like a gathered crowd and Gon smiled as his head was thrown sideways and a left molar tooth went flying.
"Ow." Weakly, Gon laughed then righted himself, peeking one gold iris up at the fist that brought the bit of metallic tang to his mouth and pursed his lips out like a fish. "That wasn't nice."
"Shut up." The fist returned and Gon's jaw reeled upward, biting down on the corner of his own tongue unintentionally. Now his mouth was filled and Gon's voice was bubbling in the back of his throat, before punch after punch replaced the slaps and Gon oddly started to miss the slaps, even after mentally berating them earlier. "You little rat ass punk from that dirty scum across town. Think you can just waltz in on our side expecting to steal our stash of drugs? Fuck you! This is what you get for trespassing into our territory, filthy piece of shit."
Knuckles, like steel, brought tears to Gon's eyes he had been hesitating to release the entire time - Along with a soft, mumble of a name, just on the edges of his own strangled, broken breath dipped in blood.
"K-Killua-"
"G-Gon!"
It took every ounce of effort for Killua to dodge that last punch, because the constant slapping and yells of 'Shut up' had completely thrown him off track and for Gon to accelerate into full-blown punching was madness. With his uninjured arm, he stopped the incoming fist and gripped it so tight his pale hands went bone-white. Killua's teeth were chattering and his chest was heaving but he held steadfast as Gon remained motionless, quiet; a dead look in his eye.
Gold held no light here, for either of them.
Killua swallowed, a bit of dirt scratching his throat on the way down, and dared to ask, "Gon, are you okay?"
No response. Gon's distant stare traveled right past Killua, straight through him like he was transparent as a ghost. He was hardly breathing, Killua noted, for his chest rarely rose nor fell in times with his breathing, unlike Killua who could scarcely keep up with a jackhammer heart rate.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Killua voiced his thoughts out loud, tossing Gon's now-limp arm away to reach up and snatch at his friend's throat – A force of habit after killing so many by simple means of strangulation and depriving of oxygen and blood. Plus, when the bone snapped, it told Killua when to stop expending so much energy, saving him in the long run. Although he had no intention unless provoked to choke his friend into submission; there was no way Killua would allow Gon to continue beating the living shit out of him. Enough was enough. "Why are you doing this? What has gotten into you, Gon?"
Gon mouthed something Killua couldn't comprehend nor read and scowled. "Gon, so help me, I will kick your ass right now unless you start talking-"
There was a blur of white, quick movement of something else to the right, and Killua had only a split second to pick which direction to fend off. Because they were both coming at him on either side and without his other arm he could only defend from one angle.
Killua hoped he didn't pick wrong. He chose the right, shielding himself with his forearm and elbow just in time to block an incoming Nen-enhanced punch from Gon straight to underside of his earlobe. An almost fatal point, really, if he hadn't defended in time, and the ring of Gon's power shook him to the core when they collided, that it was all he could focus on when the white blur from the left hand side hurled towards him at breakneck speed.
Or, rather, headed right into his mouth as Gon's open palmed hand stuffed something white, chalky, and foul past his parted lips. There was so much of it that some slipped up his nose, stung his eyes, burned around his cheeks and chin and Killua wanted to both spew and sneeze everywhere if he were able. He choked on it for there was so much ramming down his throat that all he could do was flail, gag and wheeze; force it down as fast as he can less he die of asphyxiation.
Gon was handed a small, blue and white colored pill and he stared at it, transfixed. "Eat it." The first boy he had met, the one who had given him the drugs originally back in the alley, said.
With everything that had happened thus far, Gon trusted this guy to some extent. He was Gon's age, shared similar features, and he knew his stuff.
So when Gon grabbed hold of the pill and tossed it into his mouth without a second thought; the euphoria that enveloped him was nothing like the latter.
It was far more intense, far more quenching, and Gon crooned under its spell like a true addict.
All for a good 50 seconds until collapsing, straight into the other boy echoing a laugh in the background.
"Eat it." Gon said, from high above or somewhere far off. Killua didn't know which.
"No."
"Eat it."
He shook his head to disobey and Gon's scoff sounded hollow in his ears. A loud thunk and the back of his skull slammed into the ground, shaking his entire skull, and the residual bounce of his head collision made him move up into Gon's hand and the horrible tasting whiteness he was subjected to. Killua gulped, his saliva not much aid in guiding the extremely dry powder down, and by the time the last of it was sucked clean he was heaving and gasping on his side, just a smidgen of air left in his lungs to last on.
Shit. Killua thought, eyes widening. He recognized the overpowering stench of bleach in his nose, the hint of sweetness on his teeth, and the aromatic tickle on his tongue. Shit. Shit. Shit!
Gon had just shoved Meth down his throat. Killua had just ingested a whole shit load of Meth.
It felt endless, for how long had he spent taking in all that drug into his system? Just where the hell had Gon even managed so much drug, either way? Despite Killua's skill outlasting the effects of a high poison tolerance, this was by far even too much for his body to handle in one sudden assault. If Killua didn't throw up now, he'd be in some deep trouble.
He made a move to twist his fingers into his mouth and stimulate his gag reflex but Gon somehow read his silent actions and swung his fist down with Nen, punishing Killua's fingers into the dirt with a sickening crack. Two fingers broke. The rest were spared by Killua's own careful defense, but it was still more then enough to render him unable to forcefully conjure up his own stomach contents before the Meth hit.
In a panic, Killua kicked out at random, striking Gon in the gut. The tanner boy choked on a surprised gasp, lurching back, and Killua took the opportunity to bolt with whatever shreds of his torn shirt falling off behind him.
I have to get away, Killua knew, feet pounding on the grassy underbrush beneath his shoes, Get some space between us until this drug is out of my system. If I can just wait long enough, I can meet up with Biscuit again and then we can tackle Gon together. With the way he's acting I can't take him on alone. Then-
Out of the blue, Gon's blurry form dove through a bush and tackled Killua to the ground. Air sapped from his already thirsty lungs, and the pair of them rolled across the grassy floor until Gon pinned him successfully below. The compromising position was more or less unsatisfactory. Killua tried to remedy it by tucking in his legs for another kick, but Gon hastened his freedom by sitting right on his legs, his heavier weight baring down at him as did Gon's shadowed, emotionless mask of a face grinning down.
There was a smile there, a tortured, manic grin and eyes engorged with flecks of black. There was trails of blood running down the side of his head where Killua had punched him and his far shoulder was coated with crimson bruises. But the expression he bore, was foreboding. He cringed.
This wasn't Gon Freecs. This wasn't even close.
"Who." A pause. Killua licked his parched lips, brain growing foggy and Gon's image starting to spin across him, multiplying and fading away in broken snippets like those on a movie reel. Like he knew it would be, the disorientation felt oddly pleasant, alluring; satisfying. "Who are you?"
"What are you talking about, Killua? I'm Gon."
Gon titled his head, in but a blink and he was looking as normal and ecstatic as ever. Amber eyes were glowing, bronze skin bright as the sun. He was smiling, like he was confused but yet goofy and happy as always and Killua frowned. Wrong.
He repeated, again and again. His mind, betraying him.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
"Idiot, no you're not. Not right now at least." Killua started and Gon bent down, sealing away the last of his protests in a kiss. It was for only 10 seconds, but 10 seconds plenty to relax the ex-assassin for an instant enough to let Gon bite down on his mouth, earning a bloody tang in his saliva, and blunt, thick nails found the rim of Killua's waistband, dragging it down. Killua squirmed, unsure if it was his body's way of rejecting the touch knowing full well this would lead him astray, or because the drug enticed him to ask for more.
He didn't want this. I don't want this.
Reaching up with what unbroken fingers were left, Killua pushed on Gon who's head found occupancy on his neck, sucking painful hickies along the sides, "Gon. Stop." Gon's fingers hovered at the edge of his boxer briefs, the last thing shielding his naked body from the crisp, icy air of evening fall and Killua was not about to give in with chemicals engulfing his system and a Gon who wasn't even remotely a Gon or someone Killua recognized at this point.
"Stop." He tried again, pushing with his knuckles. Gon's teeth were on his chest, biting anything in sight, and Killua hissed and reflexively bucked because his legs wouldn't kick out like he wanted to, let alone were the receptors in his brain listening enough to obey. "Gon, I said stop."
"This doesn't feel right." Gon urged, but the guy atop him didn't slip in his actions, running a scaly tongue along the underside of Gon's thigh, up to the rim of his entrance, and Gon shook his head like it'd ward the bad chill he got from the foreign sensation of a tongue probing there. "Maybe you should stop."
"Why should I?"
Gon didn't. He dipped low and his incisors scraped along the insides of Killua's pelvis until his canines bit hard into the hip, red liquid surfaced and pooled into the dip around his belly button. He didn't stop when the first drop rose and he was biting and biting and Killua was hissing and barking for Gon to quit but he wouldn't and everything was pretty much going down hill, fast.
Killua didn't expect things to escalate so quickly but Gon was ripping away his undergarments and pushing his mouth through the thick pearly white curls there and laughing like a kid on crack as Killua thrashed to no avail. He didn't want this, didn't think it would turn out this way with Gon acting like a complete lunatic and god-knows how high he might be, let alone how high Killua would be once his bloodstream absorbed enough of that damn Meth.
He hated this. Killua hated all of this.
"Why should you?" Gon repeated over the guy between his legs and glowered, pressing both hands against the others head only to pull back patches of dry, dead hair in clumps. He shuddered, the blonde hair faintly glowing like a halo of white and Gon hated thinking this may had been Killua's hair at some point. This was wrong. It all felt wrong. Even with the addition of his already overdosing on Meth, it still didn't feel right."It doesn't feel good, that's why. You need to stop."
"I don't think I will." They laughed, pushing his tongue in and Gon's leg jerked on instinct before the man slammed his fist down on it, ending the fit there. "Besides, you're going to like it eventually."
"Gon, stop!" Killua willed his voice to sound authoritative, commanding almost, or at the very least threatening; as he pulled his nails forward and proceeded to slash forward at the air in warning. His dagger-like claws caught some of Gon's ebony locks, casting off matted lumps the more he swiped, but Gon brushed his hand away with an air of nonchalance that Killua spat at, teeth grinding in frustration.
Pausing in his ministrations to bite the piss out of the inside of Killua's once clean, polished and untouched thighs; Gon leaned up on both his elbows and smiled, sweet like spoiled milk, while he responded to Killua's words with a chuckle.
"You're going to like it, I promise."
Gon shuddered, trying to withdraw, but unable as the boy leaned up and slithered over him; like a snake sizing up his prey. There was venom in that tone, poison dripping from his eyes, and Gon wanted to run, to flee; because this wasn't how things were supposed to turn out. None of it is. "Y-you lie."
"Lie? Why, Gon, when Meth and Heroine meet, they never lie."
He held up a very large syringe and flashed it over his face, shielding half his smirk from view.
"Besides, you won't remember a thing when I'm through with you."
"Why should I?"
He gave a lazy flick to Killua's lax, softened cock and dropped his chin atop the tuft of white, grinning lopsided, casual. Killua's eyebrows pressed forward, seething. "Killua will eventually want it if I don't stop, so, why should I?"
"You don't want to do this." Killua interjected, reaching forward to grasp at Gon's hair again but Gon smacked the hand away with more force then necessary. The pain of his broken fingers bouncing made him think twice then to try again. "You're under the influence of drugs. You don't want to do this, not right now."
"Hm. Am I under the influence?"
"What?"
Killua blinked and before he knew it, Gon's hands were shooting forward and hurling him back to the grass, strangling him. Saliva bubbled up into his throat and stayed there; Killua flailing his broken limb and half-injured one with terrible effort, as his knees buckled and his bare hips were thrown side to side. Gon stayed upright, his weight pressing in on him from his lap, as he tightened his grip around the base of Killua's throat and choked and choked for what seemed like eternity that Killua went without air, went without any sense of semblance then his once dearest friend was actually strangling him into oblivion.
Is this really happening? Killua wondered, his vision blurring over again as another small wave of strangeness overcame him, eradicating the pain of being choked, being broken and beat and bruised and bloody. He felt nothingness consume him, a loss of all sensations except mind-numbing pleasure, and Killua wished he could laugh at the sickness of it all for finding pleasure in being overpowered by your best friend.
Killua desperately wanted to reach up, grab hold of Gon and return the favor of being torn down like a mere doll, a puppet and Killua reminisced of the days back when his parents found luxury in torturing him for the 'good of the family name'. When waking up already pulling out the bandages and setting out the antiseptic ahead of time, getting ready for the days of abuse and mistreatment bound to come, so as to avoid extra time trying to expend wasted energy hunting for things to patch himself up with. If it were there ahead of time, it saved him the tired effort of crawling blindly without aid; for there was no one to help Killua then.
And even now, when Killua had grown accustomed to the knowledge that there was people there to help him, that he had others to trust and to turn to – Lies Killu, you have no friends. Only enemies – He hesitated trusting his heart instead of his head that afterwards there would be someone to help him.
Is this even real?
Killua's body was flipped over, sometime between the daze of tasting copper pooled under his tongue and his own saliva that was laced with bleach; his face smothered into the dirty patch below. Gon was muttering unintelligibly above him, hovering like a dark cloud so his shadow eclipsed over Killua's own. Blue eyes hardly registered his own broken limbs being tied behind him with something like a shoe lace or some other light-weight, thin material.
There was something shifting behind him, clothes ruffling and a zipped being drawn, and Killua's world was tipsy by then; spinning and spiraling in all sorts of colors that made the trees and shrubbery all blend into one abstract painting. The browns mixed with greens and Killua laughed and laughed since it all started to grow fuzzy and funnier by the second. A soft breath of warm air brushed his ear, tickling him, and Killua edged forward wanting to get away from it.
The feeling was too nice. He didn't warrant this, didn't want to be subjected to such unrealistic kindness.
"Don't." Killua managed, weakly, tears pricking at his eyes. Fresh blood was sliding down into his eyebrows, stinging the corners where the tears gathered and stayed, not ready to fall just yet.
"Please." There was a sharp, tiny prick on his arm and something cold and slimy being injected into his forearm, but he couldn't feel a shred of pain from it even if he tried. He heard more whispering, something akin to 'You'll like it.' and 'I promise it'll be good.' before a hot-skinned mass lied over him, covering him fully from behind. There was something just as hot, like an iron rod, pressed against his backside and Killua's mind was too focused on momentarily trying to remember his own stupid name for Pete's sake to care about it.
"Stop." A tender grasp of a hand encircled his neck like a promise ring, his throat being grasped from behind as something else filled up his insides simultaneously. It felt too nice, too light to be real, and Killua grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut so the blood and tears mixed there burned like coals and made him wanted to cry more at how oddly nice it felt.
This is so fucked up.
Killua hiccuped, a broken sound in his throat before his face was pushed into the grass, muffling his sounds while his body was pressed up and forward from the force lunging behind him; in and out, in and out in repeat. "Stop." There was a quiet panting in his ear, matching the tempo in which he muttered that word to no one in particular. "Stop." Killua whispered further, though his own words never reached his ears, as he repeated it himself in the same manner as the one above him thrust in, in and out like a pendulum. The pace was hypnotic and if Killua stilled just enough, he experienced the euphoria of being truly lost for once; like time did nothing but tick back and forth to the rhythm and Killua rode to the beat, pliant and willing.
He wanted it to stop though. Even as it felt good, as the drugs made him believe it was good – There was nothing good about any of this.
And for once, Killua was rendered helpless, immobile, numb and weak. Killua was weak.
Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally too. Killua was weak. He was weak for a friend; for his first friend. Killua was weak for Gon Freecs.
And that truth terrified him more then anything.
Gon knelt with his forehead pressed to the floor and murmured repeatedly to the only thing present in the room before him; a single-lit candle on a nightstand.
"I'm sorry."
He rose, blinking away the greasy film of slime over his eyes; the residue of so much smoke sticking to his face that it even gathered on his vision, blurring his world and his life. Gon sniffed, rubbed at his nose once, then placed his forehead right back to the floor again.
"I'm sorry."
He rose, tossing aside the bag loaded with a mix of drugs; primarily Meth, and glared at it as globs of fat tears edged his eyes and he choked on a sob, hating how the drugs glowed in the dark, glowed in his presence.
Gon dropped back to the floor immediately, head bowed.
"I'm sorry."
Peeking up, Gon spared one quick glance at the blood-crusted knife still laying at his side, rolled up a spare tank-top to soak up some of the mess. But the blade was imperfect now, stained and gleaming an angry shade of scarlet like a vengeful glow of all that it had slain.
He placed his brow back to the floor and sighed.
"I'm sorry."
One last time, Gon rose to his full height at a sit and stared up at the candle flickering in and out, frown etching sad lines on his face. The candle flame represented life to him, tangoing with fate as it fought to keep lit while at the same time desiring to burn as brightly as possible – For there was no point in living if it had no one to burn for but to die out early would give it no purpose.
Gon wished he shared the same concept of understanding with a candle, because when he touched a hand to his chest; he felt nothing but hollow and empty where the Sin of his burdens did not fill. The burning of his soul was dirty and dark and did not glow like how he wanted to, how he wanted to be seen or acknowledged or noticed. Gon wondered how much the pleasure and satisfaction of heaven was worth if he himself no longer could be deemed worthy to taste it.
Casting out a sigh, Gon pictured Killua in his mind and then he himself tainting and soiling the pretty image of his childhood best friend dirtied by his taint. His black stained the white.
Gon slowly lowered himself, flat to the floor, and clasped his hands in prayer that hopefully;in someway or someday or another, he could find the answer, the cure to restore the halo of light he once knew.
"Please."
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
It was the last thing Killua heard, or at least, could understand coming out of Gon's mouth, before he slipped into the inviting hands of darkness.