Gon POV
It doesn't take long before my attention is pulled away from the feline on my lap. Killua stood at the tailgate of the truck. His shirt and coat hanging on the back. The electric torch illuminates his features. I can just see his bare chested figure.
I want him. It's all I can think. I've been near bare chested men numerous times at basic and the barracks. Leorio included. But none match a figure such as his. Slender and sleek like a war ship. His muscles are toned and tight against his skin. Unlike the barrel chested men that reminded me of the armored bulk of a tank. Although to describe him as a warship doesn't feel completely accurate. It's truly like his body was carved from marble by the masters of Ancient Greece. Something that can stand the tests of time for centuries or even millennia.
I watch as he leans over and pours water over his head before muttering in German. He turns his head towards me and he freezes. Still as a deer in the headlights. His eyes widened slightly. "Now who's giving funny looks?" He asks. His voice is strained as he speaks.
His words shake me from my thoughts. I hadn't realized I started to bite my lip when I looked at him. Oh Christ. Quickly Freecss, think of something and play it off!
I open my mouth to speak but no words come out. I feel heat rushing to my face. "Uhm.."
He rolls his eyes and stands straight staring at me. The slightest hints of pink showing at his cheeks. My eyes travel down from his face to his chest and abdomen before going back to his face again. God, you could grind meat on those abs. I clear my throat. "Let me help you with your hair. She can wait." I stand holding the cat in my arms.
I walk closer to him and place the feline in the back of the truck. She walks around sniffing and inspecting items. "Gon I can clean my own hair." He says defensively. He crossed his arms. His body seems to tense up with each passing moment.
"I'm sure. But it's also my fault the mud is there in the first place. I'll make sure it all gets out." I say.
He turns away, his back to me. I can no longer see his face. "I'll use one of the truck mirrors." He replies. His tone sounds hard. Forced even. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? Do you not remember that I was your captor? That I abused you and now your life is in potentially more danger cause of me?"
He says the truth. He was my captor. But I've been thinking about it for a few hours now. So I have my own truth. "You also gave me the potential to see my home again. Even if it's minor. You could have taken my life when you found me and you didn't. If anything..." I pause and step a bit closer. I place my hand to his shoulder and I can feel his muscles tighten under my palm. For a moment I fear he may turn around and strike me.
"I owe you my life... If we make it to England, or anywhere out of this conflict, I will make it up to you properly. So let me do this." I finish, hesitating slightly. I want to say more. To say what I feel when I look at him. Now is not the time for that.
He hesitates before he takes a deep shuddering breath. I feel if I said any more, he would be even more tense. "Fine. Fine. You won't give in will you?" He asked me.
"Guilty as charged." I laugh a little. "Here. I'll put the tailgate down so you can sit." I remove my hand from his shoulder and turn to the truck. The hinges squeal as the gate swings down. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him slowly place a hand where mine had been on his shoulder.
Killua turns back to me for a moment before lifting himself slightly with his hands and sitting on the truck bed. He hands me the canteen he was holding and leans over slightly. Behind him the cat had come closer and sat at his back.
I pour some water onto his hair, most of the water runs right off however. The dried mud and dirt acting almost like a barrier. I place my hand to his head and massage slowly. Breaking the dirt away so more water can stick in.
I tug gently at small clumps, pouring more water as I work. As I do I notice him trembling slightly. The slight tensing of his hands on his lap. His shoulders are tight. Even his breathing doesn't sound calm. So I do the first thing that comes to mind. I sing.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There's a land that I heard of,
Once in a lullaby.
He jumps slightly as my voice breaks the silence that was between us. I try to keep my voice smooth and easy but my tone doesn't match that of the film. I try to keep myself from cringing. I feel like I'm butchering the song but I continue.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
As I go I realize Killua had slowly begun to relax. His eyes had closed and the trembling was fading away. His hands rested easily in his lap. I continue onto the next part as I work. More water breaking through the layers of dirt and grime. I place the canteen down and work with both hands. Gingerly revealing the white hair that lay hidden underneath.
When I finish the song I let the air fall silent. Almost silent. I hear a small sniff come from the white haired male. I look at his face and see faint tears emerging from his eyes. Small trails that flow to his chin. I resist the urge to wipe them away myself. "Killua? Are you ok?"
He tilts his head up to me. "Yeah. You're not hurting me. I'm fine. Why?" He asks.
"Then why the tears, mate?"
He gives me a curious look before touching a hand to his face. His tongue licks at his lips slightly. He then quickly wipes at his face with both hands. "Yeah. Yeah I'm fine, Gon."
I raise my brow to him. "Why are you trying to hold up the tough guy act? It's just me and you. Nothing to prove or show off here."
He stares back at me for a moment. His blue eyes still wet with tears before he turns away. "I'm a grown man. I'm supposed to be tough. My father was not a fan of watching his boys cry. So he taught us not to. To keep the emotion within. So that the enemy can't get in."
I watch him silently for a moment. The way he said it sounded unconvincing. "And where did that act get you, Killua? Part of Hitlers army. Killing civilians. Something that it seems is not you. You are human. Not some machine built for war."
"What would you know about me?" He asks harshly. "Far as you know, I could be tricking you this whole time! Just so I can collect intelligence!"
"The way you act is all I need to know. I've seen harsh men. Harsh men don't break down when beating their captives. They don't care for the lives they've taken. And they sure as hell don't save an orphaned cat." I cup his chin in my hand gently. "You aren't a war machine." I say again. "If your family didn't want you to have morals, they would have taught you such. Don't you think so?"
He bites his lip. A touch of blood breaks free and drips slowly to his chin. I wipe it away with my thumb. "You are a man who cares for his family. A man who cares for even the smallest life. Any man who has those qualities is a good one in my book." I smile lightly.
A few more tears break away from his eyes and he sighs. He pushes my hand away gently. "Verdammt." He says quietly. He sighs. "I was thinking of my family. Hearing you sing reminded me of better times. Times with my family that I've missed since this war began. Washing my hair like you are, it reminded me of my mother when she would care for me when I was young."
He wipes his eyes again before continuing. "All I've done through this war is be cruel. A monster under the orders of the Reich. Being treated with kindness and.." he pauses. Trying to find the word he's looking for. "Companionship." He says hesitantly. "It's jarring I suppose. To be able to relax near someone is hard after so long. Yet you make me want to.."
He goes quiet and I return to my task on his hair. He said what he wanted to say. It makes me feel better to hear it. Though his hesitation has me wondering what else he may have wanted to say. I suppose he might wonder what I hesitated about too. The time will come for the unspoken to be said.
____________
I sit on the edge of the truck bed. Attempting to spot the stars through gaps in the tree cover. The only sounds are crickets and Killuas soft breathing. After his hair was clean he layed back and fell asleep. The cat curled up on his chest. He didn't even bother to put his shirt back on.
My eyes have long since adjusted to the darkness that enveloped me. The sounds of the night are soothing to my mind that races with energy. The crickets chirped. The occasional owl call. Even the branches blowing in the breeze. I wish I could relax like him. Just let my mind ease away with the calm. But this is simply the calm before the storm. Tomorrow evening, we will make our move. I will wear my British uniform. He will be disguised as a civilian I "saved". But once again I'm wondering about the potential faults.
There's a chance the French could believe I'm some kind of spy. There is also the potential they will think he's a spy. Or if we actually get to England, they discover he was a mercenary serving under the SS. He could be executed and myself court martialed.
I pull up my leg and hug it to my chest. So many potential holes in this plan. Yet it's the only plausible plan we have. "Lord give me strength." I mutter quietly.
As if answering my little prayer I feel the cat next to me. Brushing her nose against my arm. "What is it you want, eh? Hope you're not planning to get a bite of me." I say turning my head to her.
Her wide eyes look back at me. Reflecting the little light that breaks through the trees. She meows and purrs rubbing herself against me. I shift myself backwards deeper into the truck. Letting my legs lay flat. She hops onto my lap and continues to stare at me.
"Well if you are planning to spend time with me, I suppose I can think of a name." I put out my hand and she bumps her head against it. "You want to be Lilly?"
She stares at me quietly. "Yeah. Maybe not. What about Cleo? Like the Egyptian queen?" Once again I'm met with a silent stare. "You must be a picky cat. Did your old owners even give you a name that you liked?"
She tilts her head. I shake my head in response. "I must be mad as the hatter. Talking to a cat in the dead of night like you understand me." Those words give me pause for a small moment. Mad as the hatter. I turn my head to Killuas sleeping form. "With a white rabbit." I look at the cat again. "How about Alice? Do you like Alice?"
At this I finally get a response. She starts purring before laying on my lap content with herself. "I guess that's settled then. You're my Alice." I smiled as I stroked her fur.
Alice has fallen down the rabbit hole. Following the anxious white rabbit, to the mad hatter. A fairytale comes true in some way. Although I don't think the white rabbit ever took the hatter captive then offered to save his life. Nor did I think one felt for the other.
I think about it more before shrugging. "I don't think he cares too much about being late." I mutter. I may not know the story too well but the coincidence still remains funny to me.
WC:2165. I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter! Spent a lot of time on this one and the next. As it is both of them have been through 4 drafts. Updates might continue to be slower going forward currently as I have resumed college as well as doing a little writing for a friend. That's a little project I'm excited about too. I also hope I don't get a copy write strike for the chap. I hope you guys enjoyed! I'll keep y'all updated on progress of upcoming chapters!