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York New city is loud, even during the night. It’s constantly noisy, cars loudly rolling through the streets, the idle chatter of the bustling nightlife. It’s always loud, and it’s very, very distracting.
Kukuroo mountain was silent. Any noise came from inside the house, and because of the silence, Killua was always able to wake up to any of his family members sneaking up on him in the night.
It becomes immediately apparent, on the first night in their new little apartment, that should someone sneak in, he would not wake up to them. The streets outside are simply too loud. Killua’s senses are keen, keener than most, but even he wouldn’t be able to hear an intruder before it was too late to do anything.
It’s hard to sleep with all the noise, anyway. Everytime Killua’s mind would finally begin to settle that first night, someone would honk their horn and startle him awake again.
So he doesn’t sleep. One night really isn’t that big of a deal, especially not for him. He barely even feels tired at all. The second night is the same. And the third. And even the fourth. It’s the fifth night when it really begins to take a toll. His eyelids are heavy, and his brain feels a bit like mush in his head.
But he can’t sleep. He can’t sleep even if he wants to because if he sleeps then they’re all at risk.
Now, Killua isn’t an idiot, he knew full well this wouldn’t be something he could do every night, but he had assumed there would be time during the day for him to take a quick nap, but there hasn’t been. There’s always someone, be it Gon, be it Leorio, trying to interact with him. He wouldn’t mind at all if he weren’t so damn tired.
He feels himself drifting off, and for a moment he thinks it might not be so awful to try and get a little bit of sleep tonight. The city is quiet tonight, anyway, surely he’ll wake up if something happens. He jerks awake a second later. He isn’t just staying awake because he can’t sleep, he’s keeping them all safe.
The rest of the night goes like this, his head lolling as his mind tries to settle into sleep, before he startles awake again a few seconds later.
The next morning is not much better, and all he wants to do is curl up in his bed and sleep, but he can’t. He needs to pretend everything is fine or Leorio and the others will get suspicious. He can tell pretty quickly it isn’t working, though, because all four of them are sending him odd looks across the table. Probably because it’s all he can do to keep his back straight and his fork on track to his mouth and not into his eye.
“Hey, Killua, did you get enough sleep last night?” Leorio asks, in that careful way of his. He only uses that tone with Killua, when broaching a subject he thinks will upset him.
“Yeah,” Killua mumbles. He’s good at lying, good at hiding things, but he’s too tired to put the usual, convincing charm into it. Leorio and Kurapika glance at each other, and Kurapika, who is often content to let Killua drive himself into the ground if he so wishes, simply shrugs.
“Are you sure?” Leorio pushes. “If you want to, you can go take a quick nap.” Killua hates when they do this, when they give him a stupid amount of pity. He doesn’t understand it, and for as long as they’ve been together, it’s still new to him. Something that feels a lot like nervousness rises in his chest, slowly but surely. It’ll come out like anger, especially now, when he’s not in control of his mind like he normally is.
“I’m sure,” he spits. The back of his mind screams, begging him to stop, to be kind so they aren’t driven away. “I don’t need a nap.” He was planning to sneak away and take one himself, but when Leorio suggests it…
“Ok,” Leorio says. He always backs off quickly when Killua starts to get upset. He’s good at that. If it were Kurapika, they’d probably already be shouting at each other. Breakfast is tense from there, and Killua spends the rest of the day locked in his and Gon’s room, staying resolutely awake.
The sixth morning is bad. He can hardly keep his feet beneath him, and he laments his lost skills. He had no problem staying awake for a week straight, or going days without food, but he’s gotten so used to this life of not having to fight to survive that his proficiencies have begun to wane.
He trips on something in the living room, maybe the edge of the rug, and doesn’t get back up. He wants to cry, he wants to sleep. He’s just so exhausted.
The first tears come quickly, and after that they flow freely, like rivers. He’s bawling loudly before he even realizes it, hands fisted in the plush rug, chest heaving as best it can while trapped under his weight.
“Killua?” Leorio is by his side at once, and Killua only cries harder when he realized he hadn’t heard him come in the room at all. “Killua, what happened, what’s the matter?”
“I’m tired,” Killua wails. Wails. Like a baby. “I just wanna- go to sleep!” Leorio makes a confused noise and hooks his hands under Killua’s armpits, pulling him up and into his chest. “I’m so tired!” Leorio shushes him softly, maneuvering Killua so that he’s sat in Leorio’s lap with his head on his shoulder.
“Why haven’t you been sleeping, Kill’?” he asks, softly. Killua hiccups, sobbing into Leorio’s shoulder. He feels like an idiot, but the hold feels so wonderful.
“It’s too loud,” Killua explains, miserably. “It’s all too loud. I won’t- hnn- I won’t wake up if- if someone breaks in.” He curls up tighter, relishing the feel of Leorio’s arms around his back, tight but not restricting.
“You’ve been staying awake to, what, listen for intruders?” Killua nods, and Leorio makes a dismayed, wounded little noise. “Oh, Killua.” It sounds like disappointment, and if he weren’t so tired, it might scare Killua enough for him to run away. “You don’t have to do that. There are all sorts of security here. I can show you later, if you want. And if someone did break in, it’d be loud enough for you to hear.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you come out whenever someone gets home and you hear the door open.” Killua is an idiot. Why didn’t he think of that? He can hear the door open from his room, even during the day, when it’s loudest outside. He would definitely be able to hear someone in the house who doesn’t belong. “Why don’t we go take a nap?” By ‘we’, Killua knows Leorio does not mean himself. He doesn’t really care, though, nodding his assent.
Leorio doesn’t make him walk, simply picks him up and carries him into his and Kurapika’s room, setting him down in the middle of their big bed.
It’s quiet in here, and dark. Killua likes it a lot, and they have that fluffy, weighted blanket that Killua loves so much. Leorio lays it on him, tucking it against his sides like he does to Gon.
“Sleep well, Killua,” Leorio whispers as he quietly steps out, closing the door behind him.
Killua doesn’t fight it anymore, letting his brain finally go quiet.