Chapter Text
Gon quietly rolls over in his sleep. His even breathing rustles the soft sheets covering him. He sighs, his shoulder sliding the sheet from it. I reach towards him hesitantly, pulling the sheet back up. I don't touch him. He doesn't like it when I touch him. I used to be able to trace every feature of his face. I could kiss his tender, innocent lips and his sweet, soft neck. He would smile in the loving, unguarded way he reserved only for me and my cold heart would warm up a little.
Now, my phantom fingers only give him shocks. He shivers and looks around if I whisper to him what I always used to say. Now, my side of the bed is empty and cold. Gon's eyes are cold and hard. My touch is sharp and cold. Everything is cold. I wish dearly I hadn't done it. I could have persevered, for him. If I had known this would happen. If I knew every time he would wake up from a nightmare and reach for me in an empty bedroom; every time he would wake up crying and spend the rest of the night holding my pillow and apologizing; over and over and over he would apologize. I want to hold him close, to tell him it's not his fault; that I'm here and to tell him what I always said; but I cant. I'm not there. I can't touch him. I'm dead. I still love him, but it doesn't matter. I can't any more. I'm dead because I was selfish.
Gon rolls over again, frowning. He mutters in his sleep.
"K-Killua..." I lay next to him, desperately wanting to put my arm around him and make it better. "Killua... NO!" Gon sits ramrod straight, tears coating his face. I know that dream. That's the one where I tell him I'm going to the store. He finds my body. He doesn't have good dreams any more. I gently stroke his messy hair. Gon has no idea how sweet he looks when his hair is down and messy, strands falling into his eyes every so often. Gon wipes his cheeks. He looks at my pillow, where my head no longer rested. He pictures my tousled head making its light indentation next to his own and fresh tears start to fall. "Killua..." I stroke his hair.
"Gon. It's alright. I'm here." My own spectral tears begin to spill down my pale cheeks. Gon tilts his head back and begins to wail. I hear a thump from the room next door and the clomp of running feet in the hall outside. Leorio knocks respectfully on the door before walking in. Wordlessly, he sits next to Gon on the bed. He pulls Gon into a hug and Gon wraps his arms around Leorio's waist, sobs racking his body and his cries muffled by Leorio's side. Kurapika steps soundlessly into the room after Leorio and sits on Gon's other side. He rubs Gon's back, at a loss for anything else to do. I sit back and watch, powerless, as the person most dear to me cries. I want to scream at them to get away from him - to scream that he is mine and mine alone - but I know they can't hear me. That doesn't stop me. I scream and scream and cry and berate myself for leaving. When Gon finally calms, Leorio and Kurapika ask him the questions they always do. What was the dream; how is he now; if they can help; but the answer is always the same. I know it by heart. "It was about Killua, but I'm alright now. Thank you." They hug him and leave. Gon stares blankly at the wall. I know he's thinking about me.
Robotically, Gon stands. He walks across the room into the adjacent bathroom. He picks up Leorio's razor and simply stares at it. He rests the sharp edge on the soft inside of his wrist and prepares for the pain to come. I know this part, too. He tests his endurance. He tests precisely how much pressure it will take to simply slit his own wrist. I can visibly see - every time - when he rethinks his decision. He looks at the razor and I imagine he thinks of Leorio smiling at him. He thinks of Kurapika caring for him as best he knows how. Gon takes the razor from his wrist and slumps to the floor. It falls from his limp hand and tears begin anew to roll down his face.
"Killua..." He whispers. It breaks my heart. Every time. "Killua..." I say again what I always said and drew my voice from the depths of my phantasmal heart.
"Gon... I love you..."
But this time is different. "Ne, Killua..." Gon says, his tearstained face resolutely staying fixed on the floor, tears streaming down his face. "Why?"
That single word shattered what was left of my resolve. I touched him. I touched his wrist where the angry red line was. I touched his damp lips. I touched his forehead, his eyelids, his hands...
"It's not your fault!" I cried. "It wasn't you! I was the messed up one! I was the broken one who couldn't deal with anything! Gon I'm so sorry!"
Gon was frozen. I knew my hands gave him faint shocks, but I was too overwhelmed to care. He clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle another wail and curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor. "Gon... " I whispered. I needed to find a way to communicate with him. I needed to speak to him before...
Before he killed himself too.