[ Klaus's face may be dirty and he may be swaying on his feet but at least he stands up, at least he finds that hard kernel of strength in him and pushes through, despite all of it. Ben thinks he never met anyone so resilient - even if half the time Klaus is crawling his way back out a hole that Ben warned him again and again not to walk near, to watch out for.
When Klaus jokes about being kidnapped from the Academy, Ben opens his mouth, the reflex there to protest that he had tried to warn Klaus there were intruders, had shouted his name again and again only for it to be drowned out with Klaus's music. But for once, he bites back the defensive words. 'Tried' hadn't been good enough - it was never good enough - and everything unsafe that has happened to Klaus tonight was because of Ben's trying. ]
I'm not gonna let that happen again, ever.
[ It's absurdly unenforceable, that promise. The truth is things happen in the world as they are going to and how Ben Hargreeves feels about them doesn't make the slightest difference. But Ben had been there the entire time Hazel and Cha-Cha had Klaus. If either of them get close to him again, well, he's going to do his best to find a way to make things different. ]
Dying isn't the solution.
[ The words come out tight, clipped with annoyance that doesn't hide the increasingly frantic concern underneath. Klaus had been so close to finally growing, finally starting to take steps towards healing. And now this: wishing he were dead, talking about how it's better than the life he has now. Ben can't let him talk like that. Can't let that kind of reasoning take root. He can see the gates of the Academy as they round a corner and his voice is low, encouraging and loving and exasperated all at once: ]
If you hate your life, then make your life better. 'Cause once you're dead, that's it. Nothing improves, not ever. And I'm not screaming or angry but I haven't slept in fourteen years so resting in peace doesn't seem to be on the cosmic menu.
[Klaus knows just as well as Ben does that there's no way he can promise to not let that happen again and actually be able to follow through. Ben is dead, and Klaus can just walk through him whenever he wants, all Ben has is his voice and emotional manipulation and his compassion.
But sometimes it feels like Ben is the only one who gives a shit. Maybe Ben pushed him to rescue Luther when Luther didn't really need rescuing, and maybe that pushing led to Klaus dying for a few minutes. But Klaus is alive now, and Ben kept him distracted long enough that he didn't immediately relapse when the worst of the dope sickness set in, and Ben is helping him get home after Luther ditched him dead on the floor of a club.
Klaus squeezes his arms around his middle a little harder, glancing over at Ben as his brother says that dying isn't the solution, and he can hear the worry with an edge of panic that Ben is carefully concealing with his usual placid demeanor. Klaus doesn't know what to say in response, so it's a bit of a relief that Ben doesn't bring it up again until they're almost home, gives Klaus some time to chew that over in his feverish head. His whole body feels too hot and too cold at the same time, and his stomach is twisting. He feels like he needs to go to the bathroom and empty himself from both ends, and if that isn't the most depressing, disgusting thing he can think of right now, then...well. He doesn't even know. It's this sad train of thought that Ben derails when he starts talking again, saying that if he hates his life that he needs to make it better, that nothing improves once you're dead, that he hadn't slept in fourteen years.
Klaus winces.]
Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah, okay okay, fine. You win. I won't go shuffling off this mortal coil anytime soon, so long as Luther doesn't go get himself high and drunk and laid again. Deal?
[It's a little sarcastic, but he also means it. He wants Ben to relax and stop worrying about it so much. Ben turns into an awful nag when he's anxious and worrying about things. Lifting a hand to rub at his face, Klaus winces again.]
God. It's not even like I actually want to be dead. I'm just sick of...feeling like shit, and I miss Dave, I miss him so much. I don't know how I'm supposed to want to be alive when he's gone.
[The grief washes over him again, and as he slips inside the Academy doors, he's got tears running down his face again, his arms squeezed around his middle, stumbling his way up to his room or the bathroom, whichever he feels like he might need more by the time he gets up the stairs.]
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substances) wrote2019-05-02 10:18 pm
no subject
When Klaus jokes about being kidnapped from the Academy, Ben opens his mouth, the reflex there to protest that he had tried to warn Klaus there were intruders, had shouted his name again and again only for it to be drowned out with Klaus's music. But for once, he bites back the defensive words. 'Tried' hadn't been good enough - it was never good enough - and everything unsafe that has happened to Klaus tonight was because of Ben's trying. ]
I'm not gonna let that happen again, ever.
[ It's absurdly unenforceable, that promise. The truth is things happen in the world as they are going to and how Ben Hargreeves feels about them doesn't make the slightest difference. But Ben had been there the entire time Hazel and Cha-Cha had Klaus. If either of them get close to him again, well, he's going to do his best to find a way to make things different. ]
Dying isn't the solution.
[ The words come out tight, clipped with annoyance that doesn't hide the increasingly frantic concern underneath. Klaus had been so close to finally growing, finally starting to take steps towards healing. And now this: wishing he were dead, talking about how it's better than the life he has now. Ben can't let him talk like that. Can't let that kind of reasoning take root. He can see the gates of the Academy as they round a corner and his voice is low, encouraging and loving and exasperated all at once: ]
If you hate your life, then make your life better. 'Cause once you're dead, that's it. Nothing improves, not ever. And I'm not screaming or angry but I haven't slept in fourteen years so resting in peace doesn't seem to be on the cosmic menu.
no subject
But sometimes it feels like Ben is the only one who gives a shit. Maybe Ben pushed him to rescue Luther when Luther didn't really need rescuing, and maybe that pushing led to Klaus dying for a few minutes. But Klaus is alive now, and Ben kept him distracted long enough that he didn't immediately relapse when the worst of the dope sickness set in, and Ben is helping him get home after Luther ditched him dead on the floor of a club.
Klaus squeezes his arms around his middle a little harder, glancing over at Ben as his brother says that dying isn't the solution, and he can hear the worry with an edge of panic that Ben is carefully concealing with his usual placid demeanor. Klaus doesn't know what to say in response, so it's a bit of a relief that Ben doesn't bring it up again until they're almost home, gives Klaus some time to chew that over in his feverish head. His whole body feels too hot and too cold at the same time, and his stomach is twisting. He feels like he needs to go to the bathroom and empty himself from both ends, and if that isn't the most depressing, disgusting thing he can think of right now, then...well. He doesn't even know. It's this sad train of thought that Ben derails when he starts talking again, saying that if he hates his life that he needs to make it better, that nothing improves once you're dead, that he hadn't slept in fourteen years.
Klaus winces.]
Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah, okay okay, fine. You win. I won't go shuffling off this mortal coil anytime soon, so long as Luther doesn't go get himself high and drunk and laid again. Deal?
[It's a little sarcastic, but he also means it. He wants Ben to relax and stop worrying about it so much. Ben turns into an awful nag when he's anxious and worrying about things. Lifting a hand to rub at his face, Klaus winces again.]
God. It's not even like I actually want to be dead. I'm just sick of...feeling like shit, and I miss Dave, I miss him so much. I don't know how I'm supposed to want to be alive when he's gone.
[The grief washes over him again, and as he slips inside the Academy doors, he's got tears running down his face again, his arms squeezed around his middle, stumbling his way up to his room or the bathroom, whichever he feels like he might need more by the time he gets up the stairs.]