Things to Know: Set during Chimera Ant Arc
Castration Anxiety:
Literal: the fear a boy in the phallic stage experiences due to a fear that his father will render him powerless if his father finds out about his attraction toward his mother.
Let's just focus the fear of powerlessness and make it less awkward for everyone.
Killua had been tortured to the breaking point since he was three. He had been whipped until skin could be pealed off. He had been exposed to electricity for hours on end until the shock traveled endlessly through every nerve in his body. He had played deadly hide-and-seek for years while the constant threat of being killed nipped at his neck. He had seen things that could make grown men break down into a fit of insanity.
Only one thing had ever phased him, back during one of his first jobs, when he thought he was going to die. He was eight and had panicked and cried and thought there was nothing that could be more painful than just lying there and feeling the blood drain out of an open wound that wouldn't be treated in time.
That—all of that—was nothing. Not one thing he had ever experienced existed on the same plain of agony and helplessness Killua was experiencing carrying a half-dead Gon on his back in the middle of a barren nothingness, the feeling of failure crushing him, of the protection he carefully built up around them crumbling, the light gone because he had been too powerless.
If he didn't know better, he'd say Gon's blood was burning him as it dripped freely from his served limb. Maybe it was because, for the first time, Killua actually felt the blood plopping against his skin, felt the heat instead of the icy apathy he was used to when killing. He had never felt blood on his body, not really, not until today.
It's strange how different blood feels when it's someone you know, Killua thought idly. He understood he was too calm, that his resolve that kept him putting one foot in front of the other was brittle at best. It was already crumbling, being swept away every time Gon's hair brushed against his leg or his check. It just wasn't right. It didn't feel like Gon's hair. It was too rough to be his best friend's hair. Gon's hair, despite all appearances, had never been prickly or pointy. Whenever Killua had him in a headlock and felt those gravity-defying strains sweep across his check, it had always been soft and healthy like his own, not caked in mud and dirt and blood—
Gon was always broader than him. Killua was all height and litheness, Gon all strength and power, but he was so thin now, so light. It was impossible not to feel the twisted muscle and bone rubbing against him. His once muscled legs were like twigs in Killua's hands, what little meat was left on them soft like was like carrying a skeleton. Gon showed about as much life as one.
There it was. The panic was inching back into his body. His throat was closing up. He worked so hard for this boy, did everything, and where was he now?! Was he really so unworthy?! So unable to fill his position as friend—
Calm down!
If he thought the blood was bad before, it was positively scalding when he became hyper-aware of it dripping down his back and legs. He might as well have been roasting in a fire when he could finally feel his clothes beginning to hold weight of the liquid seeping into it.
Gon's body was being jolted too hard against Killua's back, but Killua was too scared to tighten his grip. What if he broke his legs by mistake? But he needed to get Gon help! He needed to go faster, but what he ended up hurting Gon worse? What if he killed him?
What if Gon died on the way because he could do nothing to help?
Killua could almost feel his mind beginning to shatter at the burden. The urge to scream until his throat was ripped to pieces pounded at him with he step. He could barely form a coherent thought passed his best friend's name.
Dead. Gon. Dead. No. No way. It can't. That's impossible. It's Gon. Gon. Dead. No. Can't happen. No. It'll be okay. I can save him. Things will be normal. Killua nodded savagely to himself, his head jerking oddly. Right. He's fine. He has to be. We'll get back, and they'll fix him, and we can go look for Ging. Like old times.
Gon didn't react when a mad chuckle tore free from Killua.
No…no, we can't… I can't be like before.
People had died in his arms before, and he had never felt the need to help them. He had the power to let them live, and he had never cared. But this wasn't people. This was Gon, and he would've traded anything to have that power of life and death back in his hands for one moment in the middle of that barren land.
He felt so old and tired, the burden that had steadily built on him for weeks too heavy, his back finally broken with this one last body. His body curved as he folds in on himself, head down as he trudged through nothingness for the boy on his back, and felt a stronger resolve stirring in his gut.
He could save Gon. He would save Gon. There was something he could do, even if it meant going back to that godforsaken house, because it was nothing compared to being unable to be useful to Gon.