Speak of the Devil // COMPLETED ✔

Did Someone Say EXPOSITION???

When Gon left the bedroom, he didn't pause to assess the damage Meruem had done to the hall, or to address Killua's grandfather and brother waiting out there for him.

He walked past them, struggling to contain the dense ball in his chest where his heart should have been as it vibrated in increasing intensity. Meruem's rings had kept it caged, suppressed, until this moment. And now, he was trembling against its urge to fling and crash itself into everything.

The floor shook. The shattered glass clattered in a crescendo of chimes as they skittered out of range of Gon's footsteps.

"Gon, what happened? You're awake," Zeno asked, trailing behind him. "And you... feel different."

"That's because I am," Gon said, hollowly. He paused partway to Killua's room, squeezing Killua tightly to him. "Different, that is. I'm not safe for Killua to be around anymore."

Zeno studied them both. Killua was limp in Gon's arms, his head slumped to the juncture where Gon's neck met his shoulders. The heirloom ring was on Gon's hand.

"Meruem's rings suppressed me," Gon explained. "I was able to pass as a demon because of them. But now..."

"You feel similarly to Meruem's presence now," Zeno commented. "Are you perhaps... a Prince?"

Gon's frustration shattered to make way for unabashed grief. "You've seen how humans react to Meruem. How can I be with Killua when he can't control himself? Everything I say, everything I do—"

"I'm speaking with you now," Zeno said, plainly. "Is this not a lucid conversation?"

Gon frowned, jaw tight. "I... suppose."

"And Killua rebuilt his conscience over the weekend," Zeno reminded him. "Is it so far-fetched to presume that he couldn't overcome this?"

"It's—It's not the same," Gon insisted, trembling. He tried to loosen his grip on Killua, but the agony tearing through his chest made him hug Killua to him all the more. Killua was blissfully ignorant in his compliance the previous weekend—the fear Gon saw in his eyes wasn't that.

"Set him down a moment," Zeno suggested, and after some tense thinking, Gon complied.

He laid Killua in the remains of the fourposter bed. The brackets had snapped overhead, and the drapery now blanketed them both as Gon pushed through. Gingerly, he removed Killua's bloody socks.

"Are your feet okay?" Gon asked, turning to Zeno.

"Oh, yes, I wear slippers everywhere," Zeno reminded him. "Illumi?"

"Same," Illumi said from a distance. He couldn't stand to be within twenty yards of Gon and couldn't believe the strength of his grandfather to rest a reassuring hand on Gon's back.

Gon flinched against the touch. His antlers were caught in the sheer curtains, threaded by golden webs. "Illumi and I will take care of Killua, if you don't mind. Do you have tweezers on hand?"

"I can... get some," Gon said, but didn't move.

"Some warm water and towels would also be good."

"Okay."

Zeno rubbed Gon's back as he bent over Killua's stomach and tried his damnedest not to cry.

_________

Killua was groggy but aware of the torture the soles of his feet were enduring. He writhed to kick his legs away, but his grandfather held his knees down while Illumi inspected for more shards with a magnifying glass.