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Klaus is napping on the couch.
No, really, he is. Just give him a few minutes and he’ll be off to dreamland, very far from any new end of the world scenarios that he has no doubt will pop up in a few days. That’ just how it is when you’ve got shitty luck like them.
So, he’s napping on the couch when a shadow falls over him.
A very small shadow.
“Klaus,” the shadow says, way too bossy for such a tiny thing. Klaus peels one eye open and finds Five predictably scowling down at him. “If Luther or Diego asks, I’ll be back before dinner. Tell them not to start without me– are you listening to me?”
He waves a hand, “yeah, yeah. Luther and Diego are to sit tight while you’re off gallivanting in the real world.”
“This is not– nevermind. Allison should be back by then.”
And with that he’s off, shaking his head like he’s still the boss of them, which is ridiculous, because if anyone should be boss, it should be Allison, she’s the one looking like a proper grown-up these days.
The front door closes and Klaus shrugs; he’ll just sit tight too, then.
*
The shadow is back.
Klaus knows that because Ben hasn’t stopped whining about being bored since Five first left and his loud sighs are impossible to block out.
“Klaus,” the tiny shadow barks, and Klaus doesn’t even have to look up to know the kid is in a bad mood. “You tore through this place before. Where would Luther hide Dad’s guns?”
On one hand, this is a very troubling statement.
On the other hand, how’s that for being bored, now?
“Dad’s office, maybe?” He offers, glancing up at all the closed doors on the second floor. The big guy isn’t the smartest cookie in the jar, and he’s certainly not the most creative. Actually, Klaus wouldn’t be surprised if Luther had returned it to its exact same place. “Or the main bedroom. Under the bed, perhaps? Or inside the closet, if we’re going classic.”
“Already searched there. Where else?”
“You shouldn’t enable this,” Ben pipes up from the armchair, making a vaguely constipated face. “Can he even reach the top shelf?”
“I don’t know, he can teleport there,” he throws a pillow in his direction, hoping this is the kind of stressful situation to trigger Ben into being just a little bit solid. Klaus is not asking much. Just a little, just enough to bounce off his forehead.
And because Five has about the patience of soccer mom in a department store, he does the equivalent of asking to see the manager. “Forget it. This is a waste of time, I’m going to ask Mom,” and pops out of there.
“You really should stop him,” Ben says, looking dubiously in the direction of the kitchen.
Another pillow flies. “Quit being a little bitch, Ben.” A pause, “he says, with the utmost affection.”
Ben rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch in a smile.
*
For the third time that afternoon, a teeny-tiny shadow falls over him.
“Klaus,” Five shakes his shoulder without mercy. “Wake up, you’re driving me to the nearest diner.”
“Klaus,” Ben echoes, sounding alarmed, but Klaus isn’t very inclined to be alarmed himself, because, see, in his experience, Ben is easily alarmed by things. Such is the nature of ghosts, he figures. “I really think you should stop him now.”
“Go away,” he says instead, turning away and hoping both of them would get the hint and leave him alone, “I can’t drive, go bother Diego, he can play taxi.”
“Everyone’s out and you drive like a maniac. It should work as a getaway car as long as you don’t crash it– do you think you can manage that?”
The words are processed in stages. First, Klaus is offended because come on, everyone knows he can’t drive, it’s not his fault. Then, he remembers the ice cream truck and yeah, maybe he’s got a point. Finally– “Why do you need a getaway car?”
Klaus’ eyes fly open and he jolts up into a sitting position, the pillow he had been hugging falling to the carpeted floor. Holy crap, he thinks, Five snapped. It was bound to happen, really, but the sight of a thirteen-years-old holding a sniper’s rifle is always a bit startling.
Ben shakes his head, burying it on his hands.
“I need a coffee,” Five says.
“Okay,” Klaus blinks, “are you taking me hostage?”
“What? No, I need you to drive me there and leave the car ready while I hold the diner hostage.”
“That’s– do you need money? Because I’m broke, but we can totally pawn some shit and–”
“Stop wasting my time, of course I have money! That’s not even close to the problem– do you know how hard it is to order a black coffee alone when you look like this?” Five gestures himself, the movement a little awkward on the account of his holding a gun bigger than his short body, but that doesn’t stop him, he’s clearly very passionate about this. “Very difficult. If anyone else asks me one more time if I want a milkshake instead,” he trails off, taking a deep breath, but the message is pretty clear because, you know, gun.
Ben is still muttering to himself, apparently checked out of the conversation. Which is great, honestly, leave it to Klaus to talk the tiny assassin down from murder. However possibly could this go wrong? “I think,” he says carefully, “there are a few steps we could take before escalating to homicide.”
Five closes his eyes as if praying for patience. “I’d kill for a decent cup of coffee,” he adjusts the rifle on his hand with frighteningly ease, “literally.”
“I can see that, yeah?” Klaus smiles, reaching deliberately for the gun. Surprisingly, Five gives in after only a couple minutes of tug of war. Again, all very safe and responsible. He sets it down on the coffee table after double checking if the safety is on. “That’s great, buddy. Now, why don’t we skedaddle out of here before Luther finds this and goes all self-righteous on us?”
“Luther can–”
Shushing him with a finger, Klaus clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Mind your language, young man. I thought I raised you better than that.”
“If I wasn’t short on bullets, I would shoot you right now,” Five informs him in a pleasant voice, like the darling family psycho he is.
“I know, and I love you too,” he gets to his feet, picking up his coat from the floor and Diego’s wallet from the table, after all, babysitting Five should always be a team effort. “Now come along, kiddo, tell me which waitress made you cry and we’ll guilt trip her into giving you some coffee.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if the apocalypse wouldn’t have been better.”
“Hey, I’m buying you coffee, you are contractually obligated to be nice to me.”
Ben, who had finally lift his head from his hands, stands up as well. “I don’t know, isn’t caffeine suppose to stunt your growth?”
Klaus grins. “Yeah, he has a point. Isn’t caffeine gonna stunt your growth, short stack?”
“I should’ve sneaked out the fire escape,” Five sighs, trailing after him with a last longing look at the rifle.