Chapter Text
Attempt #1:
Klaus’ memory of his first suicide attempt was spotty at best.
What he could remember was spending an entire weekend locked in a mausoleum without food. The ghosts had been particularly visious this time around, screaming things at him and trying to hurt him. He was relieved when Reginald came to get him, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him home in the rain. He remembers how cold he had been in his thin uniform, how he’d tried to pull his arm away only for the grip around it to tighten and leave purple bruises while the man yelled at him for not trying hard enough. By the time they got through the mansion doors, Klaus almost wished the old man had left him in the cold dark crypt.
He remembered crying alone in his room after Reginald yelled at him, crying harder when the others were banned from talking to him for the night. He remembered wishing someone would ignore their dad and sobbing harder when no one did.
Klaus cried quietly under his covers until he was sure everyone was asleep, or at least in bed, before he dared to get up. He remembered the smell of the soap he used in his bubble bath and falling asleep in the warm bath only to be woken up by gory, screaming, ghosts. He doesn’t quite remember how he went from sleeping in the tub to crying and downing whatever pills he could find in the medicine cabinet. All he could remember about that decision is desperately wanting the ghosts to shit up and wanting to never have to hear them again.
The next morning when he woke up he wasn’t entirely sure how he had managed to survive (although later in life, after a lovely conversation with God herself, he would have a better understanding).
He didn’t tell anyone what he did, not wanting to see the disgust and disappointment on his families faces. He just cleaned up the vomit on the floor with shaking hands, then took a shower and went down to breakfast like everything was fine.
Attempt # 2:
The second time he tried he was freshly fourteen and he’d grown up quite a bit in the year since his first clumsy attempt.
He’d realized after waking up that first time that the ghosts that followed him were quieter after the amount of drugs he’d flooded his system with. He wasn’t sure what it was about the drugs that helped – was it the way they affected his mind? The way they messed with his brain or circulatory system? Was it how close to death they brought him? He had no idea, but as long as it worked he didn’t really care.
At first, he’d stuck with stolen sips of booze from his father's liquor cabinet and cheap weed. It seemed to help for a while, and he could actually get some sleep without spirits invading his dreams with their crying and demands. The peace he got from the weed was nice, but it only lasted so long and after a few months of using it wasn’t enough anymore – not enough to keep the louder, stronger, spirits away, and it definitely not enough to make dealing with their father bearable. It wasn’t long before he started spending whatever money he had on whatever he could get his hands on.
Thankfully, it was disgustingly easy to find people willing to sell drugs to a kid, even the hard shit.
He didn’t get high all the time though.
He told himself that since he could go days, sometimes even weeks, without a hit it meant he wasn’t an addict. He was always sober enough to go on missions or do training, sober enough to gossip with his siblings or to be there for them when they needed someone to lean on.
Klaus was pretty sure that no one knew he was popping pills (or doing coke, or on one memorable occasion trying heroin) but he was positive they all knew he smoked pot. He didn’t even try to hide it, even going so far as to roll a joint under the table during dinner at least once a week. He figured if they all knew about the weed, they would blame his odd behaviour on it. The plan seemed to work pretty well since even when he was high as a kite on some pretty looking pills or had done a couple of lines in the bathroom before lunch, all he ever got was an eye roll from the others and a disproving look from Reginald.
After a while it became like a game to him – how fucked up could he get before someone got worried about him?
The answer?
It varied from sibling to sibling, with Luther being least likely to notice and Diego and Ben pretty much tied for most likely. Sometimes he wondered if Five, who had definitely been the cleverest of them all, would have noticed or cared.
Dad caught on pretty easily to when he was high, but rather than trying to stop him, he would just extend the amount of time Klaus had to spend locked up with ghosts, spending the walk to and from the crypt lecturing him on how much of a failure he was turning out to be.
It was after another one of those lovely weekend long ‘private training sessions’ that he overdosed for the second time in his life.
This time, instead of looking for something to overdose on in the house he bought as many of his favourite little pills as he could. He went to one of the unused bathrooms on the upper floor of the huge house and ran himself a hot bubble bath before placing candles around the room. He knelt on the cold marble floor and listened to the water run while clearing his mind. He had been sober for about a week in preparation for tonight because he wanted to try one last time to contract Five before he killed himself.
He had d tried a handful of times in the last six months to contact his brother, both while high and sober, but no matter what he did he couldn’t find him. At one point he’d given in and brought out his old Ouija board and had a full-blown seance, but nothing had come of it. Either the kid wasn’t dead, or he was still a stubborn ass, even in the after-life. He guessed there was only one way to find out.
He got in the hot bath and relaxed into the bubbles for a moment before pouring all his pills into his hand and taking them all. If last time was anything to go by he was in for a rather painful time, but what was a little more suffering after the shit he’d been dealing with for years?
He felt kind of bad for whoever was unlucky enough to find him though.
It would probably be Mom.
He wondered if good ol' Reginald had programmed her to be capable of feeling sad and if she would care that he was dead. A part of him hoped she would – an even more selfish part of him hoped all his siblings would be sad too.
He closed his eyes and felt a sob crawl up his throat thinking about his siblings. He felt like he was letting them down by doing this, and he was sure it would break a few of their hearts that he didn’t even say a proper goodbye, but he just couldn’t do it anymore.
Sinking into the water he washed away the tears that had fallen. While he was under he felt the first signs of the drugs flooding his system and pushed away the guilt. It was too late now, but even if it wasn’t he wasn’t feeling bad enough to stop what was about to happen. Sitting up he felt his stomach clench and his eye droop. He didn’t try to fight it and let his eyes close.
From there he didn’t remember much.
His stomach ached and the high went from feeling amazing to terrifying real quick. He felt beyond hot and everything started to hurt and then the next thing he knew he was freezing and dripping water, with ice cold arms holding him. He vividly remembered the look on the face of the woman who picked him up and carried him through the house, remembered how looking at her was like looking into a warped mirror. He could vaguely recall the sound of an alarm going off, alerting everyone to someone needing help in the infirmary that was usually only used after missions.
The next thing he knew he was waking up, cold and alone in a hospital bed. A quick look around told him he was still in the mansion, and god if that didn’t hurt. Klaus couldn’t help but tear up. He covered his face with his hands and cried until he heard footsteps coming toward the door. He wiped his face just in time for Grace to come in the room with a sad smile on her lips.
“H-hey mom.”
“Klaus...” He wasn’t sure if the emotion behind his name was real, but he desperately hoped it was. He leaned into her hand when she stroked his cheek and gave her a watery smile. “We’re all very glad that you pulled through okay. You had us all so worried! Your heart stopped for a minute there but I fixed you right up!” She told him, checking his vitals before unhooking him from some machines. At a normal hospital he was sure he would have stay hooked up for a while, but Reginald had never been one to let them linger in the medical ward.
“I’m sorry, mom...” He had to fight to keep the tears at bay.
“Don’t apologize, Klaus... I’m sorry I didn’t see the signs sooner.” She told him, holding out a warm hand to help him to his feet and steadying him with her deceptively strong grip. She guided his hands on her shoulders once he could stand on his own and helped him into his uniform, even tying his shoes for him. “Everyone will be glad to see you’re okay!”
He shrunk in on himself as a wave of embarrassment and self-loathing washed over him. He figured, with the alarm and everything, that everyone would know what he’d done but he had hoped he’d get a day or two to come to terms with it before seeing everyone.
Klaus followed her through the house once he was dressed. He was grateful that she was going at a much slower pace than usual so he could hold her hand, and when she let go of his hand to head off to the kitchen he felt a bit lost. He wrapped his thin arms around himself as he made his way to the dining room, looking at the ground as he went.
He had barely made it through the door when a pair of strong arms wrapped around him, catching him off guard. He didn’t need to look up to know it was Diego hugging him, and he brought his own arms up, returning the gesture briefly before the tan boy was pushed aside by Ben. He laughed through the tears that had started to fall when he felt the movement of Ben’s belly against his own – it almost felt as if the monsters he housed inside were greeting him too. Allison and Vanya were next to hug him, pulling him between the two while crying and telling him how scared they had been. Luther offered him a hug too – he didn’t offer kind words or anything like the others, but he held onto him a bit tighter than usual and that was enough.
When their father made it down to eat he ignored Klaus completely, as if his son hadn’t almost died or spent three days hooked up to machines. Klaus didn’t mind though – he wasn’t sure he could handle the lecture he would eventually get in the state he was in at that moment.
The meal was spent in silence like it always was, but Allison hooked her foot around his and Ben held his hand under the table while everyone else kept smiling encouragingly at him. It was nice to feel loved by his family for once.
He did eventually get that lecture – and extra time in ‘training’ – but it was made a little less horrible by the fact that his siblings came to see him after he got home, helping him through the worst of the panic and pain.