Escape

[Tags: Killua-centric, violence/abuse, PTSD, nightmares, drabble-ish, feelings without plot]

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"What can you even want?" Milluki pants out.

Killua slowly blinks, his vision blurring with each agonising hit from the whip. He clenches his pale scarred hands into fists, the clinking of the chains matching the tremor of his body. The words don't sink into him until moments later, when another hit lands diagonally across his cheek. He can barely see with his left eye now, cheek swelled up with the multitude of calculated hits on the same spot, a steady stream of blood dripping onto the dirty floor from the fresh source. What can he want? What is that even supposed to mean?

As if in answer to his thoughts, Milluki yells again. "You have everything. You're the entire fucking family's favourite fucking child. And yet..." He pauses, as if unsure on whether to continue his tantrum verbally or physically. Tantrum. Killua snorts. The term fits his older brother only too well.

Milluki's eyes widen. Before Killua has time to register the sudden change, a pale muscular hand emerges from behind-- one he knows only too well-- locking its fingers iron-tight on his throat. Killua gags, struggling to breathe. Struggling to keep himself sane. Struggling to break out of his chains and run. Run. Because that's the only way of escape he knows.

Jet-black locks brush against his swollen cheek, and Illumi steps out from the wall behind him, wrist twisting at odd angles to accommodate the painful grip on his throat. In a moment, their eyes are locked. Fearful blue against empty black.

"And yet, Killua..." Illumi too pauses, but this one is devoid of any possibe attempts at humour. This one is calculated, meant to draw out his suffering. "... you dare run away from your responsibilities? Run away from... home?"

Home? The word on his tongue as he absentmindedly echoes it back. "This is not home." Somehow, he's able to speak.

"Oh but it is." Illumi's eyes widen, not in fear-- but, warning; as if to capture every inch of his terror. "This is the only place you belong, Killua. And so..." An empty smirk mangles his features. "... this is the one place you cannot run away from."

Killua loses his ability to speak once more. To think. To breathe.

And he wakes up, fists whiter than the sheets they clutch, body covered in a layer of cold sweat. But also, he doesn't. Because his mind is still there. Still there in the dreaded mansion, the place where he spends nearly every single one of his nights. Because Illumi is right. He can't run away.

And that's the one thing he has always wished for. To be able to run away. To finally be able to live in the moment. To escape.