Archive of Our Own

When Klaus opens his eyes, he’s on the same bus that he was on when he went back in time.

He feels empty. He’s holding the damn briefcase, his hands slick with blood (Dave’s blood, his mind supplies - cool and sticky now, but once hot and fresh) and sitting on the bus bench like everything is normal. Maybe for 2019, it is. But for him, everything is well and truly fucked.

He gets off the bus at his usual stop; he hasn’t gotten on or off of this bus in ten months, but years of a consistent pattern of getting on and off have left an impression on him. He instinctually knows when to get off, even when his mind his spinning and his body itching from traveling from 1968 back to 2019. He stands on the sidewalk for just a moment before the entire world starts crashing down around him. He meant to go back again, just a little, not forward - never, never forward again, only back, back to a moment when Dave was still alive, his hands strong and warm on Klaus’s face, but -

He screams. He screams as loud as his lungs will let him and hurls the briefcase down onto the sidewalk. He wails and picks up the briefcase again and then throws it with all of his strength back down. He does this again and again and again until the briefcase finally bursts into flame and explodes in a flash of blue light and yellow fire. His body crumbles in on itself and he paws at the ground desperately, imagining that Dave is there in front of him, gaping chest and all, as if there’s any way he can save him.

He doesn’t remember making it back to the Academy. The only thing he knows when he comes back around is that he’s back in his old bedroom again. He doesn’t know if he got a ride or if he walked or if anyone questioned him about the blood (so much blood) on his hands and arms and clothes. It’s disconcerting to lose that much time, but he barely cares.

“Klaus?” Ben asks. Klaus’s whole body shudders. “Klaus? What happened? What - Where is all the blood coming from? Are you okay?”

“Ben,” he sighs. His chest still feels aching and hollow, but something else stirs there, too, if only for a moment. He turns around and Ben is there. He hasn’t seen him in almost a year. “I missed you.”

“Missed me?” Ben asks, surprised. “We were on the bus and then something happened. I couldn’t find you for like an hour. Where did you go? What are you - What are you wearing?”

Klaus looks down at his army greens and bloody hands. He doesn’t answer, just wanders out of his bedroom and across the hall to the bathroom, where he strips out of his clothes grungy clothes and turns on the water in the bathtub. He looks at the water and then at his hands.

He starts to cry again. He knows - He knows he has to wash his hands. He’s covered in sweat and dirt and blood and he has to at least wash his hands, but -

The blood is all he has left of Dave. To wash his hands means to wash away what’s left of him; Dave will just be rinsed away down a random drain and that will be that. Klaus leans his elbows against the edge of the tub, holding his hands away from his body, and weeps. He can feel Ben pacing behind him, but he doesn’t say anything. Klaus hangs his head and sobs, chin tucked right against his chest, shoulders hunched. He opens his eyes and sees a blurry glimmer through his tears.

He’s wearing dog tags. He never had his own set, really. He’d been dropped into the middle of the war with no papers or belongings at all, but that hadn’t mattered to anyone in the long run. War was war and they’d needed bodies. He scrubs his face against his arm and blinks rapidly to fight off his tears. He squints down at the dog tags.

KATZ
DAVID R.
019 76 4578
O POS
JEWISH

Klaus squeezes his eyes shut and presses the warm metal to his lips. He doesn’t remember taking Dave’s tags off of him. He wonders if he did or if someone else gave them to him. Curtis might have. He remembers Curtis being there, pulling him away. They’re part of Dave. It’s enough. He puts his hands under the water and rinses away the blood, plugs the drain, and lets the water fill to the rim of the tub.

He sinks into the water and lets it envelop him. It’s been ten months since he was last able to have a real bath. The showers in the barracks were terrible, and Klaus doesn’t count rinsing the sweat, grime, and blood off of themselves in the springs and rivers they came across as actual bathing. He sinks below the surface and rubs at his face harshly.

“Klaus?” Ben asks timidly when he remerges. Klaus leans against the rim of the tub and looks up at him. He looks worried. Klaus shudders our a sigh.

“Hi, Ben,” he whispers.

“Klaus, what’s going on?” Ben frets. Ben was always a worrier as a child. It’s something he never grew out of as his ghost matured to adulthood along with the rest of them.

“I...” Klaus’s voice dies in his throat. The light above the tub flickers. His vision blurs as the rush of the running water turns into something else. The white noise transforms from something numbing and soothing to something that makes his heart jump a staccato beat in his chest. He hears the whirr of helicopter blades, spitting gunfire, his own screams. Dave! Dave!

He gasps and throws himself upright, his hands fumbling with the knobs until the water stops. He hunches his shoulders up to his ears and sobs.

When he’s back in his bedroom, he doesn’t really know what the next step is. The last time he was standing in his room in nothing but a towel, he was kidnapped and tortured. His whole body shudders and he rolls his neck from side to side, trying to alleviate the phantom itch and tingling that’s crawling up and down his skin. Normalcy, he decides, is what he needs. Normalcy of 2019, more like. So he sheds his towel and finds his favorite leather pants with the laces up the sides and puts them on, then finds an old, ugly tank top in one of his drawers that could have belonged to an old drug dealer or hookup or even Luther for all he knew, and he pulls that on too.

“You okay?”

His brain struggles to place the voice for a moment. He turns and sees his brother at the door; it’s one of the live ones this time, though Ben is still hovering in the corner with that worried look on his face. Five is looking at him strangely. He wonders for a moment how he must look to Five now: a shell-shocked and even more fragile version of the person that he’d barely gotten to know upon his return.

“Hey. Yeah, just - long night,” he lies easily. His voice sounds hoarse to his own ears and he knows at once that Five won’t buy it. They don’t know each other well anymore, but he was always the most perceptive one of the bunch. Not that they’d ever really gotten along as children. Five had always been cool, calculating, ambitious. Klaus was always more easygoing, skittish, warm.

Five smirks. “More than one, from the looks of it.”

“Yeah,” Klaus says tiredly. Perceptive, yes. He is also the only other person he knows of who would understand the time travel thing. He is not, however, someone Klaus feels particularly like opening up to, so he just tries to focus on getting himself dressed and figuring out the best course of action to deal with the headache and the annoying itchiness in his limbs. He thinks hard but can’t remember if he had anything left in his stash all those months ago. Probably not, if he’d been taking the bus, he thinks.

“I don’t remember the dog tags,” Five presses.

“Uh, yeah. They belonged to a friend.” He nearly chokes on the word.

Five doesn’t seem to notice. “How about that new tattoo?”

Klaus glances down at his arm. The words SKY SOLDIERS and a grinning skull stare back up at him. “You know, I don’t totally remember even getting it,” he says, which isn’t exactly a lie. They’d all been drunk as skunks that night. No reputable tattoo artist would have let them get inked in the current century. “Like I said. It was a long night.”

“You did it, didn’t you?” Five asks. He’s still looking at Klaus strangely. Klaus wonders if he developed some sort of mind reading power in all the time he‘s been gone.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know, I can recognize the symptoms, Klaus,” Five says, finally stepping away from the door and into the room. “The jet lag, the full body itch, the headache that feels like someone shoved a box of cotton up into your nose and through your brain. You gonna tell me about it?”

“Your pals - when they broke into the house and couldn’t find you, they took me hostage instead,” Klaus says. It feels good to say it out loud. The pain of the torture he endured pales in comparison to the sting that no one even noticed he was gone. Five squints.

“So, in return, you stole their briefcase,” he says. No trace of apology or sympathy, only cool curiosity. Klaus shakes his head.

“Not at first. Diego and the lady cop... Eudora,” he remembers. His hands are trembling. He clasps then together in his lap. “They came and saved me. Then when I found out no one had bothered to even look for me besides the cop, I figured I had a right to a little compensation for my pain and suffering. I thought there was money in it, or I could pawn it. Then I opened it.”

“And the next thing you knew you were where? Or should I say when?”

“What does it matter?” Klaus asks. Five obviously has no concern for his wellbeing, and Klaus doesn’t want to delve into his loss with anyone right now, never mind his emotionless brother.

“What does it - How long were you gone?” Five asks. He’s pacing.

“Almost a year,” Klaus admits. Ben moves to sit next to him on the bed. He’s wearing his concerned face, which Klaus hasn’t seen in a long time, since even long before he spent ten months in Vietnam. He’s used to Ben sticking around and giving him a hard time, but he rarely shows real concern anymore, especially when Klaus is high.

“Klaus?” He whispers. “But you were only gone an hour.”

“A year? Do you know what this means?” Five sputters.

“Yeah. I’m ten months older now,” Klaus says sarcastically. His skin feels like it’s melting. He wants a hit of something, but he hasn’t done anything harder than pot and hard liquor in almost six months. He thinks about the bottles of obscenely priced liquor that dad has in his office. That will have to do in a pinch.

Five huffs. “This isn’t any kind of joke, Klaus. Hazel and Cha-Cha will do whatever they can to get the briefcase. Where is it now?” he asks. Klaus feels his shoulders slump.

“Gone. I destroyed it,” he whispers. He flutters his fingers toward the sky. “Poof.”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Five asks angrily.

“What do you care?” Klaus challenges, leaning forward to be just as much in Five’s space as he is in his.

“What do I care? I needed it, you moron, so that I could go back!” Five snaps. “So that I could start over! Where are you going?”

Klaus stands and stumbles toward the door. “Interrogation’s over,” he grunts. “Just leave.” But he’s the one leaving now. He grabs his military vest and leaves Five to his devices. He doesn’t even care if Five stays in his room and tears it apart. He can’t look at him anymore, can’t feel his uncaring stare. At least Diego had looked like he gave a shit when he saw how fucked up Klaus had been after his torture. He probably did care, to an extent. He was always softer than the others.

He trudges onto the landing and stops when he sees Pogo and Mom sitting on the settee. A memory passes briefly over him. He’d wanted Mom after he’d been rescued from the hotel. Mom was a robot, but she was sweet and patient with him. Even as a child, lighting his bed on fire and traipsing around the house in her heels, she’d always been so patient. She’s unmoving now, even as Pogo clips and tugs at the wires dangling from her arm. Pogo gives him a strange look, but he looks away before he has to meet his eyes.

Diego is coming into the foyer from the hallway just as Klaus reaches the bottom of the stairs. “You look like shit,” he says, but there’s no heat in his words. Klaus nods.

“Why, thank you. Hey, where are you going?” Klaus asks.

Diego hesitates. “Are you okay?”

Klaus wonders if he means from the torture or from being upset that none of his family cares enough to even notice he was gone. “No,” he says anyway.

“Klaus, I’m...” Diego sighs. He doesn’t say he’s sorry. That’s fine, because Klaus doesn’t want to hear it.

“Where are you going?” He asks again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Diego says.

“I’m working my way toward not being worried about anything. How’s Eudora?” Diego looks surprised. “What? I can’t ask after the woman who saved my life?”

“Doctors say she’ll be okay. Through and through; bullet just missed her collarbone. She’ll be in a sling for a while, but she’ll be fine,” he says.

“Good. I’m glad about that. I need a ride,” he says.

“No, Klaus. I have something I need to do,” Diego says.

“I’m not stopping you. You’re going to drop me off first. You know I can’t drive. I’ll just go get my things,” he says easily. He brushes past Diego and goes to Dad’s study. He takes one of the bottles off the shelf behind his desk and takes a long drink. He clutches Dave’s dog tags in his free hand.

“Klaus,” Ben whispers. “Are you okay?”

“I did miss you,” Klaus repeats. Dave’s tags are warm in his hand, but he feels very cold. He drinks again.

“You told Five you were gone almost a year. Where did you go? What happened?” Ben asks. He still looks so concerned. He’s not even giving him a hard time for drinking.

“I’ll tell you,” Klaus promises. “I just... I just can’t right now.”

Diego is still waiting for him when he and the bottle of vodka emerge from Dad’s office. He throws on his coat and continues drinking until the itch starts to subside. He wants to know where Diego is going that is so important that he won’t even share the details with him.

The bottle is already half gone when Diego starts to talk. “You haven’t been this quiet since we were twelve. You ran down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels, tripped over, and broke your jaw. How long was it wired shut again?”

“Eight weeks,” Klaus whispers.

He remembers the day. He’d been wearing Grace’s pink pumps that he’d always admired so much. He wasn’t supposed to be. Dad always had a fit when he saw Klaus in her heels or one of Allison’s skirts. He said it was unbecoming and had slapped him more than once over it. Still. He’d wanted to wear them and Grace never said no. He remembers how loud the crack was when his chin hit that first step and the slice of pain that tore from his chin to his right ear, and then not much else until he came to in the infirmary hours later with his jaw wired shut and a needle sticking out of his arm. His first ever dose of narcotics. It hadn’t taken him long to realized that the painkillers kept the screaming ghosts away. It was all downhill from there. He takes another drink.

“You can just drop me off here,” he says hoarsely, indicating with the bottle to the building they are rapidly approaching. V F W LAKESHORE POST B392 the sign screams.

For his part, Diego doesn’t question it. “You sure you’re okay?” He asks belatedly, but Klaus is already out of the car and doesn’t bother turning back.

He helps himself to a shot, and then another. Ben is trailing behind him, but he’s blissfully silent. He gets like that sometimes. Klaus knows he is the youngest patron currently at the bar, but he doesn’t care. He just walks to the wall where he knows the pictures of the 172nd Airborne will be. He’s been to this bar before, back before he was an actual vet. He wasn’t supposed to be there, then, but he was on the arm of an older guy who had been welcome and was promising a place to stay for the night if he could just have a little company. He doesn’t know why he so vividly remembers the memorial on the wall, but he does.

He touches the glass gently, the pad of his finger smudging across Dave’s face. “Hi, Dave,” he whispers. Just seeing him beings back the memory of gunfire and shouting again, and his legs very nearly buckle. The wound is so old but so fresh; it’s been 50 years and also only twelve hours since he had Dave’s body in his arms, his blood smeared on his palms.

A hand touches his shoulder. He glances over and sees his brother. “Just go away, please.”

He wipes his eyes. When was the last time he’d asked anything of his brother and actually said please? But Diego doesn’t waver. “Not until you talk to me,” he says.

“Is that a threat? You threatening me?” Klaus snaps. He’s embarrassed to be caught crying. In Diego’s timeline, this is the second day in a row he’s dissolved into a mess of tears.

“You’re still healing from what those two goons did to you,” Diego says. “And you’re acting weird, even for you.”

“Hey, guys,” someone interrupts. Klaus doesn’t bother to look. He only wants to see Dave. “This bar? It’s for vets only.”

“I am a vet,” Klaus says firmly. Ben steps into his line of vision then. Klaus imagines he and Diego are giving him twin stares of shock.

The vet has the nerve to laugh. “Really?” He scoffs. “Where’d you serve?”

“None or your business,” Klaus snaps.

“You’ve got balls coming in here and pretending you’re one of us,” the vet says.

“I have every right to be here, just like you,” Klaus says, finally turning on the man. He’s older. He’s looking down on Klaus like he’s something he stepped in. Klaus feels his temper flare. “Asshole.”

Diego is trying to do damage control, but Klaus only sees red. How dare this guy accuse him of not being a veteran? He has no idea what he’s seen, what he’s done, who he’s lost -

“Cool it, Chuck,” the bartender is saying. Klaus glances over at him. He’s tall and slim, and he’s got a bar towel draped over his shoulder. He’s got a hand on the vet’s shoulder, holding him back. Diego has a defensive hand up in front of Klaus, ready to hold him off if he needs to. “You don’t have any right to tell people who can and can’t be here. You can go ahead and leave that job to me.”

The old vet - Chuck - lets it go and walks away. Klaus all but wilts. He wasn’t exactly looking for a fight, but something to take his mind off the empty ache in his chest would’ve been welcome.

“Thanks,” Diego says awkwardly. “Come on, Klaus.”

“Leave me be,” Klaus whispers. He turns back to the memorial. The old bartender comes to stand next to him.

“I think you’ve had enough, soldier,” he says gently. “Why don’t you come sit at the bar and I’ll get you some water.”

“Don’t want to,” Klaus mumbles, and he knows he sounds like a petulant child. “I’m comfortably drunk right now and I have no interest in sobering up at all in the near future, thank you very much.” In fact, pills were sounding better and better. He wonders if his old dealer still hangs out in the same spots.

“You were sober yesterday,” Diego reminds him gently. “What happened, Klaus? I thought we were getting somewhere.”

“Your yesterday,” Klaus mumbles. His yesterday, he and Dave were sharing a joint behind a couple of trees outside of their tent.

“I don’t know what that means, Klaus,” Diego sighs. “Come sit down. You’re not making any sense and you need to drink something besides liquor.”

He lets Diego pull him toward the bar, if only because he can’t stand the worried looks on his brothers’ faces anymore. He sits and does take a few sips at the glass of water that the bartender passes him. Diego takes his half empty bottle of vodka back to the car and drapes his coat over his shoulders when he comes back inside.

“Keep drinking,” the bartender orders, and something in Klaus’s very limited army training alongside years and years of child abuse makes him inclined to obey.

“Thanks for helping him out, umm...” Diego trails off.

“Conrad,” the bartender introduces himself, and he holds his hand out to shake.

“Conrad. My name’s Diego, this is my brother, Klaus,”

“Guten tag,” Klaus mumbles around the rim of the glass. He giggles because he’s drunk and he’s inclined to.

“Why did you help us, by the way?” Diego asks. Klaus scoffs. Diego has never ever been able to just let anything go. He wants to know everyone’s motives about everything. Klaus doesn’t care. He’s still a little disappointed that he didn’t get to tackle the idiot.

“You know, I’ve polished the glass on that thing enough times that I sometimes see those faces in my dreams,” he says carefully. Klaus looks up at him. Conrad takes the soda gun and uses it to refill his glass with more water, then looks at Diego. “Maybe you should go have a closer look, son.”

Diego and Ben both go, not that Conrad knows anything about Ben. Klaus rolls his head from side to side.

“I could’ve taken that idiot,” he says.

“I know that,” Conrad agrees. “But then I would’ve had to ban you for life, and that’s something I don’t want to have to do.”

“Why aren’t you freaking out that I’m not fifty years older than I should be?” Klaus asks. Conrad reaches across the bar and taps the old, faded umbrella tattoo on his forearm gently.

“Don’t know much about where you all ended up as adults, but I remember what you were capable of as children,” he says gently. “You’re welcome here, Klaus. You served your country and I decide who gets to drink here, not Chuck or anybody else. Although, if you’re working on getting sober, I’m inclined to have you stick to cola from now on.”

Klaus grumbles. He wanders away from the bar and goes out to Diego’s car, which is locked, but the window is down enough for him to reach his arm and and unlock it. He knows Diego has some spare money in the center console; he’s stolen it from there before. He takes the cash and uses it to score a couple pills from a teenager who probably thinks he’s being incognito on the corner down the street from the VFW.

“Time to go. I’m taking you home,” Diego says roughly, startling out of the gleeful stupor he’s in now that he’s holding his own little pill baggy again. He takes Klaus by the arm and pulls him back to the car, and Klaus lets him. Diego manhandles him into the front seat and Ben sits in the back. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do right now.”

Klaus doesn’t answer right away. He pops a pill before Diego can stop him, then another before Diego manages to wrestle the bag out of his hands.

“Stop! I paid for those,” he grouses. Diego slams the center console shut and shoves the pill baggy in his pocket.

“It looks like I paid for them, actually.”

“I think my old dealer used to sell around here. Do you mind driving around the block? Can I borrow twenty dollars?” Klaus asks. “Those were good to take the edge off, but I’m gonna need a couple more in a few hours.”

“Why are you in that picture from Vietnam, Klaus?” Diego demands.

“I don’t want to talk about that. I want to be numb right now and since no one will let me drink, I need something else,” Klaus says. “Can I have the twenty or not?”

“No,” Diego grinds out. “I’m not funding your drug habit. Now tell me why you were in that picture and why you were in there crying like a baby and trying to pick a fight.”

“Because I lost someone!” Klaus explodes. “I stole that stupid briefcase you took from Hazel and Cha-Cha and it time traveled me to Vietnam and I fell in love, okay? I fell in love and it was the first time I ever loved someone more than I loved myself and I -“

Klaus dissolves into tears. Losing Dave is too fresh.

“Well you’re luckier than most,” Diego says eventually.

“Dickhead,” Ben snaps from the back. Klaus shudders.

“Lucky,” he repeats. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“When people you love die, at least you get to see them again,” Diego clarifies. Klaus looks up at him.

“It doesn’t work like that. It’s never worked like that,” he says.

“Maybe because you’ve been pumping yourself full of drugs for the better part of your life,” Diego says.

“You don’t get it. None of you do. You never tried to understand. Not even when we were kids and dad would... whatever. No wonder you left me to die with those maniacs,” Klaus says. It’s the alcohol making him loose-lipped, but he’s not about to stop now. He’s already lost everything. “I bet you wish I had just died in that closet and gotten out of your hair. Poor dead Klaus, boo-hoo, but at least he’s out of the way.”

“That’s not fair,” Diego argues. “I came for you.”

“After Eudora told you I was missing in the first place. You didn’t even know until it was spelled out for you,” Klaus spits. “Now, I appreciate you trying to forge some kind of brotherly relationship between us, but it’s a bit too little, too late, wouldn’t you say?” He opens the car door and starts to climb out.

“Klaus, wait,” Ben and Diego both say. He’s pulled roughly back into the car.

“Don’t touch me!” Klaus snaps.

“That’s him,” Diego says. “Look.”

Klaus looks in the door mirror and sees what he’s looking at. Hazel is coming out of Griddy’s Doughnuts. He looks happy. It almost makes Klaus laugh, but he’s seized with a kind of terror that he didn’t know he’d still feel after all of this time. Suddenly, he’s back in the chair in the hotel and Hazel is hitting him over and over and over -

He struggles to breathe. “I want to go home.”

“We should follow them,” Diego says.

I can’t, Klaus wants to say. He knows if they get him again, he won’t survive them, not in the fragile state he’s in now. But maybe that’s okay. He nods.

It all ends in a shootout in an ice cream truck, then he, Diego, Luther, and Ben are back at the Academy yet again, and it’s still the last place he wants to be. He wants the trenches, the hot and sticky rainforest, the cot where he curled up on Dave’s chest every night. He steals his pills back from Diego’s coat pocket while he’s in the shower and takes enough to make himself barely able to see straight. He wants Dave. He settles for his childhood bed and thinks, not for the first time, that he would have been better off taking the bullet instead of Eudora, instead of Diego, instead of Dave.

His brain keeps him up most of the night. He thinks about what Diego said about him being lucky. He doesn’t feel lucky. He’s never felt lucky with his power. If anything, Diego was the lucky one. He could bend knives through the air and hit his target every time. Luther was lucky, too. Super strength is an awesome power. Allison, Vanya - they’re all lucky. They can go to bed at night and sleep and dream in peace. They don’t have to see Medicare to block out the screaming, crying dead. They don’t have to see their suffering, their torn off limbs and their brains leaking out.

But something else Diego said still nags at him. Maybe he can talk to Dave again. The last time he was sober - tied to a chair and tortured for information he didn’t have, but still sober - he had been able to have actual conversations with ghosts that weren’t Ben. They’d been loud and insistent, but they weren’t screaming at him or attacking him like the ones in the mausoleum always had. He hadn’t been able to do that when he was a kid. Maybe if he got sober again, he’d be able to talk to Dave.

Luther calls a family meeting the next morning, bright and early. Klaus tries to pay attention - he really does - but he’s on his way to sober and he feels like he’s dying a little bit. Five appears in a flash of blue light that makes him flinch and he’s talking about changing everything, fixing things, the apocalypse -

“I feel like my skin is on fire,” Klaus says. No one spares him so much as a glance.

Sobriety hurts, he remembers suddenly. This isn’t going to be easy. He’s not gonna be able to do this on his own. The last time he was sober, he’d been tied up against his will. He could be tied up again, he reasons. He has a number of siblings who don’t like him much and would be willing to tie him up to get him out of the way. He brushes off their questions and goes upstairs to his father’s study. He doesn’t find any rope there, so he goes out to the shed and looks there. There’s a dusty blue coil on one of the shelves behind a bunch of sheets draped from the ceiling. He briefly wonders what that’s about, but in the long run decides it doesn’t matter.

“Diego?” he calls as he returns to the house. He’s got a bum shoulder, but he’ll probably be able to tie him up tight enough that he won’t be able to get out of them. “Diego?”

He wanders around the mansion, but every room seems to be empty. Of the living, anyway.

“Diego left with Allison and Five,” Ben says. “Will you tell me about Dave?”

Klaus trips over his own feet at the mention of his dead lover. “How do you know his name?”

“You talk in your sleep,” Ben reminds him quietly. Klaus sighs and adjusts the weight of the rope on his shoulder.

“He was...” That hurts to say. He was. He shouldn’t have been. He should still be. “He was kind. Strong. Vulnerable and... and beautiful. I would’ve followed him to the ends of the earth. I followed him to the front lines, more than once. And now he’s dead and I’m here.”

“You loved him,” Ben says.

“No,” Klaus says, shaking his head. “I didn’t love him. I do love him. Do you understand that? He died in Vietnam, but for me, Vietnam was yesterday.”

“So you want to try to get sober so you can try to conjure him,” Ben surmises.

“Yes. Unfortunately, the whole pesky thing only seems to work when I’m sober. It worked at the hotel. You were there,” Klaus says. He starts walking again. “Luther? Luther!”

“I wish you would get sober for yourself,” Ben says. “All these years of me begging you to get sober, of Allison paying for fancy rehab centers and Diego getting you out of lockup, and you’re getting sober for a guy who you knew for barely -“

“Just stop!” Klaus shouts, wheeling around. “Just stop. You don’t get it. You get it the best, but you still don’t get it. I love him. I am doing this for me. I need to see him, to try to talk to him. I need... if he won’t stay or can’t stay, like you can, I at least need some kind of closure. You weren’t there, you don’t know what it was like when we were in the thick of it. He believed me, always. I’ve never - I’ve never had that, Ben. He loved me and he believed me. So getting sober is for me, so I get to see him again, no matter how you choose to see it, and I would really appreciate if you have any more opinions about my sobriety or my love life that you would kindly keep them to yourself.”

Ben looks stricken. “I’m sorry, Klaus,” he says, but Klaus doesn’t respond.

He finds Luther in the sitting room at the bar. His huge shoulders are slumped. “Luther! Luther, you need to tie me up so I can - are you drinking?” Luther glares at him and takes a shot. “Holy shit! Holy shit, you’re drunk. And you busted into Dad’s liquor cabinet! He’s gonna be so pissed.”

Klaus pauses. It’s not that he forgot that Dad was dead, really. It just sometimes doesn’t feel real. Still, it seems to get Luther’s undivided attention.

“Get him,” he rumbles, setting down the bottle and shot glass. “Dad. Do it now.”

“I told you already, all right? I can’t,” Klaus says, and then Luther’s huge hand is around his throat. He gags and chokes, his hands scrambling at Luther’s arm as his feet leave the ground.

“Little shit,” Luther seethes, and it’s the meanest and angriest that Klaus has ever seen him. His eyes widen and he kicks wildly, still trying to loosen his brother’s hold on his neck.

“Please,” he chokes, “I...” Luther throws him to the floor. He sputters and coughs, trying to get his breath. “Luther! Of course I tried. All right? God knows, I’ve tried, but he is as he was in life: he’s a stubborn prick!”

“He needs to answer to me for what he did,” Luther gasps around a sob. “For sending me up there! I sacrificed everything for him! I never left this house, I never had friends. And for what? For nothing!”

He starts crying in earnest. Klaus watches him, wide-eyed. He’s never seen Luther display really any kind of emotion before, never mind ping-ponging between so many so quickly. He takes a step forward.

“Be careful,” Ben says fretfully. “He’s wasted. He could really hurt you.”

Klaus swallows. “I could try again,” he offers. “I mean, I can’t promise I’m clean enough, but... hey come on, that’s enough of that,” he says, and he gently takes the glass out of Luther’s hand. Luther lets him. “Come on. Chin up, big guy.”

“Just go,” Luther weeps.

“Why don’t we find the others? I’m sure Allison could help,” he says. Luther and Allison has always had the strongest and strangest bond. Klaus is sure she can talk some sense into him.

“No! I don’t want her. Besides I’d - I’d just hold them back. What they’re doing is too important.”

“What are you talking about? You’re our Number One, remember?” Klaus jibes lightheartedly. The numbers had always been a sore spot for him and especially for Diego, but Luther had always taken a lot of pride in his status as first number. He sits next to Luther and nudges him. “‘O Captain, my Captain!’ Remember? Yeah!”

Luther laughs a little, just for a moment, and then dissolved into tears again. He leans heavily on Klaus’s shoulder, and he does his best to console him. It’s a job he’s never had before. He doesn’t really know how to take care of someone else. He can barely take care of himself. He rubs Luther’s arm in what he hopes is a comforting manner.

“Diego was right,” Luther weeps. “Dad sent me up to the moon because he couldn’t stand the sight of this. Of what he did to me. Of what I’ve become.”

“No, that’s not...” Klaus sputters. He can’t defend Dad, though, even though he doesn’t really know what Luther is talking about. He guesses it has something to do with his massive bulk, but he doesn’t know for sure. “Dad was such an asshole. Right to the end. Luther, if there’s anything else I can do...”

“I wanna be like you. I wanna do whatever it is that you -“ Luther starts, but Klaus stops him.

“No. No, no. You don’t. Absolutely not.”

“I do. Yeah. Come on, Klaus, because you always... seem so carefree, and I just need it. I wanna be Number Four,” Luther weeps.

“Trust me. Trust me,” Klaus insists, looking directly into his brother’s eyes. “You don’t want that. You don’t want that. What you need is just... just lay down. Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning. Okay?”

“Fine,” Luther says, and Klaus lets his shoulders sag in relief for a moment. Then Luther says, “I’ll go by myself.”

“What? No.” Klaus follows Luther has he rises from the couch and heads to the door. “Luther, I can’t let you -“

He screams as Luther hurls him bodily away. His arms scrape the floor as he slides all the way across the room. Luther’s is already gone by the time he comes to a stop. He gingerly touches the door burn on his elbows.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks. He kneels down next to Klaus.

“Yeah,” Klaus sighs, then he shivers. “I guess I’m not getting tied up today, huh?”

“It doesn’t look likely,” Ben agrees. “You have to go after him.”

“I know,” Klaus groans. He feels sick to his stomach and he can feel cool sweat on his forehead and arms. It’s only going to get worse from here, he knows.

He and Ben spend the rest of the day and into the night looking for Luther. He forces himself to drink water and eat plain bread and he just sweats and sweats. His stomach cramps. He clutches his gut and leans forward, groaning. A couple walking his way quickly crosses the street. He braces his hands on his knees and breathes for a moment before straightening.

“This is pointless,” he says to Ben. “I’m going home. I... I have to go home. I’m so dope sick.” He starts walking, but Ben steps in front of him. He laughs. “You know I can just walk through you, right? Ta-da!” He waves his hands in the air and walks straight through his brother’s spirit, which is something he truly does not like doing. He feels bad immediately, but he keeps walking back the way they came.

“You need to keep trying,” Ben insists. “Help Luther!”

“But he could be anywhere right now, doing God knows what! You know what? That’s probably a good thing. The big guy needs a life, and tonight he’s out experiencing the real world!”

“He’s not ready for it,” Ben argues.

“Well who is? Was I?” Klaus asks. He remembers being twelve the first time he left the Academy searching for a high. He snuck out damn near every weekend for almost five years before he finally just up and left. Was he ready at twelve for the real world? Certainly not. He still doesn’t feel ready. “Were you?” Ben frowns. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know you weren’t ready to die violently at a young age. Ugh. Sobriety isn’t easy. What? Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not my responsibility! I didn’t sign up to save you or him!”

“You’re right. You didn’t,” Ben says, “but if you were in trouble -“

“Don’t say that he would come looking for me! We both know it’s not true!” Klaus screams. He’s breathing heavily and he’s plain mad.

“He didn’t know you were gone. If he knew, he would have helped. I really believe that. Our siblings love you, Klaus. You know they do,” Ben says.

“I don’t. I don’t know that,” Klaus argues, but there’s a voice in the back of his head that disagrees. “Stop telling me what I know because I don’t know that.”

“Klaus,” Ben says gently. Klaus blinks back tears and clutches at his own arms. He feels like he’s about to fall apart. “They love you. You drive them absolutely out of their minds, but they always have your back. I promise. And even if they didn’t, you’re a better person than that. You couldn’t leave Luther to get hurt.”

“I’m not. I’m not a better person,” Klaus weeps. “Look at me. Look at me, Ben.”

He shudders and sobs. His stomach cramps up again, so he sits down on the sidewalk, buries his face in his knees, and lets himself cry. Ben sits down next to him.

“I need Dave,” Klaus weeps. “I need help.”

“You can get help,” Ben says. “Call someone. Call Allison to come help you with Luther and then call Diego to get you sobered up. You don’t have to do this alone, Klaus.”

“I am alone,” Klaus weeps. “I am. Dave said I’d never be alone again but I’m alone, Ben, and I can’t do this. I can’t do this without him.”

“You’re not alone.” A hand rubs his back soothingly, cups the back of his neck. Ben knocks his head gently against Klaus’s. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

“You’re...” Klaus sniffles. He looks up in awe. Ben looks just as surprised. “You’re touching me. Are you doing that?”

“I think you’re doing it,” Ben says quietly, looking down. Klaus glances at his hands. They’re glowing blue. It’s bright in the darkness of the alley. He shudders and the glow fades out, and Ben’s hand falls through his body.

“What was that?” Klaus whispers.

“You’re sober,” Ben reminds him. “Maybe your powers are getting stronger. You were taking the drugs to stifle them, after all.”

“I feel sick,” Klaus mumbles. “I don’t have a phone or any money. What am I supposed to do?”

“Ask someone if you can borrow theirs,” Ben suggests. “You look awful. No offense. Someone might take pity on you if you stop talking to me. If you look like shit and you’re talking to someone who’s not there, they might help. If you look crazy, they’ll just run.”

“Great advice,” Klaus groans. He heaves himself to his feet and stumbles down the sidewalk, bracing himself on the wall as he walks. His stomach rolls and he has to take a moment to not vomit and just breathe. “God, I am so fucked.”

“Hey,” someone interrupts him. “Klaus, right?”

Klaus looks up and sees a vaguely familiar looking old guy standing in front of him, holding a paper bag of groceries in one arm. Klaus blinks at him and tries to remember where he’s seen him before. Then he leans his shoulder on the wall and vomits on his sneakers.

“Christ,” the guy swears. Klaus lets the guy steer him away from his puke puddle because he doesn’t really have much of a choice. “Easy, soldier. Keep breathing.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m okay. Leave me alone.”

“Klaus,” Ben reminds him

“Oh, right right right. Can I borrow your phone? I need a ride,” Klaus says. He blinks up at the old guy.

“I’ll give you a ride,” the old guy offers.

“Not getting in a car with you. No way. Been there, done that. Stranger danger,” Klaus says. He’s gotten into plenty of cars with people who just wanted to give him a ride and had taken a lot more from him in return. He starts to wander away.

“We met yesterday, Klaus. I’m Conrad. You remember?”

Klaus squints at him. Gray hair in a military cut, clean shaven, pressed plaid shirt under a jean jacket. He scrubs at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he groans. “Yeah. I remember. Hi, listen, it’s not a good time.”

“I can see that,” Conrad says carefully. “I do have a phone, you know. You can use it. I’ll stay with you and make sure you’re okay until someone can pick you up, if you want. At a distance, of course. Stranger danger and all that.”

Klaus huffs a laugh. Conrad hands him a cell phone - and it’s a frigging flip phone for crying out loud - and it takes Klaus a moment to get his shaking, sweaty fingers to cooperate enough for him to dial the Academy’s number. He leans heavily on the outside of the building they’re standing in front of and it rings and rings. No one is answering. He almost feels like crying again. Then -

“Umbrella Academy,” a familiar and gentle voice answers. Klaus almost cries anyway.

“Pogo,” he sighs. “It’s Klaus. Can I talk to Allison?”

“Of course, Master Klaus. If you’ll give me a moment...” Klaus waits while Pogo putters around, looking for his sister.

“Klaus, now’s not a good time,” is the first thing she says. Klaus loves his sister, but she’s always been very brusque.

“It’s Luther,” he says. That makes her pause. “He’s upset about Dad sending him to the moon. He was already drunk when I found h-him and now he’s out getting fucked up at a bar somewhere, and I’m sober, Allison, and I can’t... I can’t keep looking for him. I’m so sick. I can’t keep going in those places looking for him, or I’ll... I have to be sober, Allison, okay? I need you to come get him.”

He wipes at his stupid teary eyes again. “I’m coming to get him,” she says.

“Thank you,” Klaus sighs. “Can you have Diego come pick me up? I’m downtown by Griddy’s and I don’t think both me and Luther will fit in your car.”

“He’s not here,” Allison says. “I think he went to see Patch. Sorry, Klaus. Listen, I’ll come get Luther and then double back and get you, if you want -“

“No, no. Just come get him before he hurts himself. Thanks, Allison,” Klaus says. He hands the phone back to Conrad, who’s waiting patiently. “Thanks for letting me borrow your phone.”

“Any time,” Conrad says, and he looks like he means it. “Is your ride coming?”

“Nope. Looks like I’m walking,” he says lightly. “Come on, Ben.”

“Wait,” Conrad says. “Is this Allison not getting you?”

“No, just Luther,” Klaus sighs. He starts walking. Conrad follows.

“And what about Diego?”

“He’s MIA.”

“Klaus, if you’re trying to get sober, I don’t think you should be alone right now,” Conrad says gently.

“He’s right, Klaus. You said you were going to get help,” Ben says. Klaus stops walking. “He wants to help you. If you don’t want his help, at least let him give you a ride. You and I both know you’re going to pass at least one dealer on the walk home. I love you, but Klaus...”

Klaus swallows. “Even if you give me a ride, I’ll be alone. Allison will be busy taking care of Luther. Diego’s gone. Five is Five. It doesn’t matter. I can walk.”

“Well that still leaves someone who might help, doesn’t it?” Conrad asks. “That’s four siblings by my count. I remember you lost one, right? I’m sorry about your loss. But that still leaves one more.”

“Vanya!” Ben says excitedly. “He’s right, Klaus. Vanya can help.”

“Vanya won’t help,” he mumbles.

“Why not?” Conrad and Ben both say.

“She hates me. She hates all of us. Didn’t you read her book? We were terrible to her as children,” Klaus whispers. He’s seized with another vicious cramp and almost doubles over.

“Children are terrible to each other. Trust me, I know. I’ve got three,” Conrad says. “At least give her a call. Give her a chance.”

“I don’t even know her phone number,” Klaus sighs.

“Do you know where she lives? I’ll take you there,” Conrad offers.

“What if...” What if she’s not there? What if she tells him to go away?

“You can’t live by what-ifs alone,” Conrad says gently. “So I’ll tell you what. You can let me drive you to her place and we can see, and if you need a ride somewhere else after then I’ll take you there too, or I can call 911 now and get you some help.”

“I like him,” Ben says.

Klaus hesitates, so Conrad charges on. “I can see that you’re not used to asking for help, Klaus. May I be so bold as to say that that might have been what’s gotten you into this mess in the first place?” he asks.

“You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me,” Klaus snaps. His anger flares. “Just because you were a fan of a bunch of kids who were forced to do a lot of shit they didn’t want to do just because they were born with stupid powers they didn’t ask for doesn’t mean you know shit about me or any of us.”

“That’s true,” Conrad concedes. “But I heard what you said on the phone, and yesterday what Diego said at the bar. You want to be sober. So let me help you get there, soldier.”

Klaus wilts. “Your groceries,” he mumbles. He sounds pathetic to his own ears.

“The groceries will keep,” Conrad says firmly. “Come on.”

Klaus gives Conrad the address and climbs into the backseat of a nice little Prius. Conrad doesn’t question it, which gives him more points in Klaus’s eyes. He reminds Klaus gently of his seatbelt, and Klaus doesn’t argue.

“What if she’s not home?” Klaus whispers.

“Then I’ll take you somewhere else. Wherever you want. I’ll even take you back to mine, if you want. We already had dinner, but there’s leftovers,” Conrad offers.

“You don’t even know me. You’re gonna let some junkie off the street into your house?” Klaus asks.

“I know PTSD when I see it, soldier. You look fresh off the front lines, if I had to guess,” Conrad says. “We all needed help acclimating to home, Klaus. We help each other. Just because we weren’t in the same unit doesn’t mean the brotherhood isn’t there.”

Klaus sighs and shivers. He doesn’t really know how to unpack the PTSD statement. He’s pretty sure he’s had it most of his life. “I don’t feel good.”

“A little warning before you puke again wouldn’t go amiss,” Conrad says. Klaus nods.

“You’ll be okay. It’s not much farther,” Ben says. The car jerks sharply.

“Christ!” Conrad swears. “Who the hell are you?”

“You can see him?” Klaus asks. He looks over at Ben. “He can see you. Conrad, this is my dead brother, Ben. Apparently I can make other people see him now. I don’t know what that’s about. Not gonna puke though.”

“You’re a ghost?”

“I think the politically correct term is spirit,” Klaus mumbles.

“I don’t really know how to respond to that. We’re here,” Conrad says. He pulls the car over in front of Vanya’s building. He comes around to the back and opens Klaus’s door. “Your brother’s gone.”

“Nah, he’s still here. I don’t really know how it works,” Klaus mumbles. He fumbles with his belt and lets the older man help him out of the car. “Vanya has so many stairs. I can’t do it. Just leave me out front.”

“No can do,” Conrad says. He pulls Klaus’s arm over his shoulder and helps him walk up the single flight of stairs and to Vanya’s door. Klaus thinks about maybe not knocking after all, but Conrad does it for him before he can think of an excuse.

There’s shuffling noises inside. The sound of Vanya’s dainty footsteps. A male voice. That’s kind of weird, Klaus’s mind registers briefly, and then the door opens.

“I haven’t seen Mr. Puddles,” Vanya is saying. She stops, her eyes darting from Klaus to Conrad and back again. “Oh. Klaus? Hi - what?”

“You must be Vanya,” Conrad says easily. It’s like he’s made entirely out of confidence.

“I am. Klaus, are you okay? Please, come in, both of you,” she says, stepping aside.

“Thanks, sis,” Klaus mumbles. “I just need a place to sit down for a minute, and then I’ll get out of your hair. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a Boy Scout,” Vanya says doubtfully. Conrad eases Klaus down onto her overstuffed sofa. He lays down at once, clutching his stomach. He fees winded and ill. There’s a man he doesn’t recognize standing awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, watching. Klaus briefly wonders if he’s really there or if he’s dead, but he decides not to bring it up.

“I’m sorry to impose on you,” Conrad says. “I found Klaus outside the laundromat, and he looked like he was in a bad way. I asked him where I could bring him, and he thought you might be able to help. If that doesn’t work, I can -“

“No, no. That’s okay,” Vanya interrupts him hastily. “I can take care of him. Thank you for getting him here safely.”

“Vanya,” the strange man says. He’s got a strange expression on his face. Klaus decides he doesn’t like it.

“Does Vanya have a boyfriend?” Ben asks.

“I totally thought she was gay,” Klaus mumbles. The man gives him a strange look. Vanya huffs a tony laugh.

“Thank you so much again, Mr...” Vanya trails off uncertainly. Conrad reaches out to shake her hand.

“Conrad Evans. And thank you, Vanya, for taking care of him. Can I write down my number for you? I can’t imagine that getting sober will be very easy, and I don’t live too far away if you need some help,” he offers. Vanya nods, shooting Klaus another unreadable look.

“Let me just get you some paper,” she says quietly. “Umm... hold on. Leonard? Could you -?”

“Yeah,” the guy says. Not dead, then. Klaus groans and shoves his face into one of the pillows. Conrad writes down his number, then comes back to give Klaus a firm squeeze on his shoulder.

“You’re going to be fine, soldier. Give your best to your brother for me,” he says. Klaus just nods and reaches blindly for a blanket. He’s suddenly freezing.

He can hear Vanya and Leonard speaking in hushed voices in the kitchen. He doesn’t sound happy. Klaus wonders what big plans he’s interrupted by coming over. He feels bad. He starts to have second thoughts about staying when Leonard leaves abruptly and Vanya comes over to sit gingerly on the coffee table by the couch across from him. She holds out a glass of water, and he forces himself to sit up so he can drink some. He adjusts the blanket around his shoulders. She hands him two little blue ibuprofen.

“Aww, none of the good stuff?” he jokes weakly. She doesn’t smile. “Sorry I drove off your boyfriend. I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend.”

“Are you really trying to get sober, Klaus?” She asks softly. Ben sits down next to him on the couch.

“Yes,” he sighs. “I’m...”

“You can tell her,” Ben says gently. “We pushed her away for our whole lives. Give her a chance.”

“I lost someone,” Klaus says. “I want to get sober so I can... so I can try to talk to him again. But I need help. I can’t do it by myself.”

“So you picked me to help you?” Vanya asks. Klaus sighs.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to burden you with, and you’re not exactly my number one fan. I’ll go,” he says. He starts to shrug off the blanket, but she stands and wraps it back around him, then gathers him gently into her arms.

“Of course I’ll help you,” she whispers into his hair. “Thank you for coming to me. I want to help.”

His cheek is pressed against her shoulder. He lets go of the blanket and wraps his arms around her back. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s hugged one of his siblings. He doesn’t remember ever hugging Vanya at all. He squeezes her as tightly as he dares, for as long as he can, until she pulls away. His eyes are teary and so are hers and neither of them mention it.

“Can I get a shower?” he sniffles. “I’m definitely coming down. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin, and I just - I gotta be clean, you know?”

“Of course. It’s just through the kitchen. I’ll start some dinner while you’re in there,” she offers. Klaus perks up and follows her to the bathroom.

“Oh, can we have -“

“Waffles?” She interrupts. The side of her mouth flicks up into a smile. “I remember. I’ll dig out the waffle iron.”

“Oh, danke, Vanya. And if you see Ben, don’t wig out. He’s been manifesting on and off all night. I think it’s the sobriety thing. I’m working on it,” he says, then shuts himself in the bathroom before she can answer. No one had ever believed him when he talked about Ben before. He doesn’t really expect her to believe him now, and he can’t stand the idea of seeing the distrust on her face.

He showers, dries off, and wraps himself back up in the fuzzy blanket that he’s seriously considering stealing from Vanya. He pokes his head into the kitchen and sees Ben sitting at one of the kitchen chairs, watching Vanya putter around at the stove. She looks up and smiles at him.

“I don’t think I have many clothes that would fit you,” she says doubtfully, “but help yourself to anything you can find in the bedroom that you’d be comfortable in. Maybe we can put a movie on after we eat?”

“That sounds nice,” Klaus says. It feels strange to be in her kitchen, in her house. “Listen, I really am sorry about running your boyfriend off. I hope I didn’t start anything between you two.”

“Leonard is fine,” she says. “Don’t worry. We were planning on going away, but we can do that any time. Family comes first.”

Klaus swallows. Tears prickle his eyes. “Thanks, Vanya.”

“Go get dressed,” she says gently. “Food’s almost ready.”

Her bedroom is pretty bare. She has a very minimalistic style, Klaus observes; riffling through her closet. Nothing very bright or fashionable at all. He chooses a plain teeshirt that fits him okay and is probably oversized on Vanya, spends a moment wondering about pants, then decides on a pair of athletic shorts and his blanket cape.

“You look better already,” Ben says. “Less sweaty.”

“Thank you, brother dearest,” Klaus mumbles. “I definitely feel less sweaty.”

He’s about to go back to the kitchen when he spots a backpack on her dresser, moments before his billowing blanket gets caught on it and sends it topping to the floor.

“Shit,” he mutters. The zipper was partially undone. Some papers, books, and pens scatter across the floor.

“Klaus? You okay?” Vanya calls. He can hear her soft footsteps coming closer. She pokes her head in.

“Sorry,” Klaus mumbles. He starts haphazardly stacking up the notebooks and papers. “It was an accident.”

“It’s okay,” she says gently. She kneels down and starts gathering the pens. “It’s Leonard’s bag. He must have left it here accidentally. I’ll text him about it later.”

She holds out the bag for him and he goes to put his stack inside when something catches his eye. He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a red journal. The letters R.H. are embossed in gold on the front. She frowns.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ben asks.

“Is this Dad’s?” Klaus asks. He lets the book fall open in his hands. His father’s handwriting is scrawled across the pages. “Why does Leonard have Dad’s journal?”

“I don’t know,” Vanya whispers. Klaus turns the pages until he lands on one hand been dog-eared. It’s full of notes on Number Seven.

Klaus scans the pages and knows Vanya is reading too. He looks up at her sharply. “You have powers,” he gasps.

“I’m...” She swallows hard. “Leonard thought I might. He said I...”

“How did he get this?” Klaus asks. “Wait, Dad knew? He didn’t tell any of us, and - your pills, Vanya.”

Her lip trembles. “I haven’t been taking them. Leonard said... but I don’t understand. Dad always said I was just ordinary.”

“You’ve never been ordinary,” Klaus whispers. “If Leonard stole this from the house, he knew all along. I don’t think we can trust this guy, Vanya.”

“I don’t either. If he was keeping this a secret, he has to have some motive,” Ben muses. Klaus looks at him, then Vanya, whose eyes are wide. Ben looks between them. “Can you see me?”

“Yeah,” she says faintly. “Hi, Ben.”

“Hi,” Ben says warmly. He reaches out and gently touches her hand. It only lasts a moment before he disappears from her view.

“Sorry,” Klaus mumbles. “I don’t know how it works. I’m trying to make it last longer, I just don’t know how.”

“It’s okay. He’s been with you forever, hasn’t he?” She asks. Klaus nods. “I’m sorry we never believed you.”

“It’s okay,” he says awkwardly. He puts Leonard’s papers back in the bag but keeps his father’s journal in his hands.

“Maybe we should go to the Academy,” Vanya says.

“The others should know,” Klaus agrees. “Maybe Five will have some idea of what to do now. He was talking about the apocalypse earlier. Do you know anything about that? Do you think Pogo and Mom know about your powers?”

“Five told me,” Vanya admits. “I... I don’t know if they know or not. They must, right?”

“I’m so sorry, Vanya. I’m so sorry we left you out when we were kids. I’m sorry we all always did whatever Dad said,” Klaus says. He feels weepy suddenly. “God, we were awful to you. We shouldn’t have been. If we hadn’t pushed you out, we could’ve found out about this sooner.”

Vanya pats his arm awkwardly. “It’s okay, Klaus.”

“It’s not. It’s not okay,” Klaus sniffles. “I’m sorry, but I’ll help you now. I’ll help you with this, your new power. We all will.”

“I’ll help you with yours, too. And the sobriety thing,” she adds. Klaus sighs.

“I could really go for a hit right now,” he admits. He pulls at his fingers. “Luther is drunk right now, you know. I was trying to find him and get him home. He said he wanted to be like me; he said he wanted to be carefree and happy. I was never carefree or happy growing up, but that’s how you all saw me, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she admits. “With the drugs and the parties... it always seemed like you were having a good time. Like nothing affected you. I wanted to be like that, too, but...”

“I wasn’t,” Klaus whispers. “You never want to be like me, Vanya.”

“Tell her,” Ben urges. Klaus shudders.

“The drugs were to numb myself to the ghosts. I see them all the time. They’re always screaming and crying and - and they’re gross, most of the time. Bleeding and shit. They scared me so much as a kid, and I couldn’t control them or make them go away. The drugs made them quiet. I didn’t get high all the time for fun. I did it because I felt like I’d die if I didn’t,” Klaus sobs. “Sometimes I wished I would die anyway. I still do. I’ve done some really awful shit to stay high my whole life, Vanya. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry!” she exclaims. She pulls him in for another hug. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry. I never knew and I never asked. I just assumed. I’m so sorry.”

“I can’t go back there right now,” Klaus mumbles. “There’s so much booze there, and stuff I could pawn. You go. I’ll stay here with Ben. I promise.”

“No,” Vanya says. “No, I’m staying here with you. We can go in the morning. I’ll call and ask Pogo to get rid of all of the liquor. He’ll know what to do.”

Klaus nods. “Okay,” he whispers.

“And you’ll sleep in here tonight. Not on the couch,” she says. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. And I’m locking the windows. You can sleep in my bed and it’ll be like a sleepover.”

“A sleepover!” Klaus laughs. He pulls away from her embrace and wipes at his eyes. “Okay, sis. Thanks.”

They eat on the couch and watch bad television for a while. She rubs his back when he struggles not to vomit, then tucks him into her bed next to her, as promised. He sleeps pretty well, considering everything. He wakes up disoriented from a nightmare early the next morning, a sharp cry escaping him as Vanya shakes him awake.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“You were screaming for Dave,” Ben whispers. Dave’s face swims in and out of his vision. He covers his eyes.

“Is Dave the one you lost?” Vanya asks. “Is he here now?”

Klaus looks around the room for a moment. He only sees Ben. “No.”

They get changed, and Vanya calls a taxi. Klaus puts his leather pants back on and borrows another of Vanya’s shirts. She calls the Academy and asks Pogo to call everyone for a family meeting and to get rid of any alcohol in the house and lock up the medicine in the infirmary.

In the backseat of the taxi, she holds his hand. He doesn’t know if it’s more for her comfort than his.

“Well aren’t we quite the motley crew,” he jokes. Ben rolls his eyes from the front seat.

Everyone is already gathered when they arrive. That makes it easy. Luther looks like he’s nursing the worst hangover in the history of existence, which makes sense. Klaus can’t help but notice that the liquor cabinet is empty. Even being in the room is hard, though, because it carries so many memories of all the times he was high. He wonders if he’ll ever feel comfortable in the mansion or if he’s doomed to associate it with all of his traumas for the rest of his life.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with as much energy as he can muster. “I’ve gathered you all here today to -“

“Can we make this fast?” Five interrupts. “We have very limited time until -“

Klaus pulls the journal out of the back of his pants and slams it onto the coffee table. He tugs at his fingers anxiously. “Vanya has powers. She’s had them her whole life and Dad lied to all of us about it. It’s all here.”

“Why do you have that?” Luther snaps. He snatches at the journal but Klaus pulls it away. He opens to the dog-eared page and thrusts it into Luther’s face.

“Look,” he insists. His hands are shaking. “Dad wrote all about it. He started giving her the pills to suppress it when she was six years old.”

Luther bats the book away from his face. It lands on the coffee table again, and Klaus shrinks back as Luther stands and towers over him. Five snatches the book up and starts to read, his eyes darting from Vanya to the pages.

“Dad wouldn’t have lied about that,” Luther says.

“He did, though. It’s all there! I’m sure Pogo knew about it to, and he swore him to secrecy. Isn’t that right, Pogo?” Klaus asks. They all turn to him, and he nods solemnly.

“You’re right, dear boy. Master Reginald swore us to secrecy when you were young. He did supply the medication to suppress Miss Vanya’s powers because he feared them,” Pogo admits.

“See? We have more in common than you think, sis,” Klaus giggles. He nudges Vanya, who shrinks under everyone’s attention. “The drugs numb everything. How have you been feeling since you’ve been off of them?”

“You stopped taking them?” Five asks sharply. “Have you been able to control your powers at all?”

“Can you not compare our sister’s forced drug use to your junkie behavior?” Allison asks sharply. Klaus tugs at his fingers.

“Hey, we’re getting sober together! Isn’t that right, Vanya,” he says. Vanya nods.

“Klaus is staying with me while he sobers up. That’s why I had Pogo move all the alcohol before we came over,” Vanya says. “And I don’t really know how my powers work. I bent some lamp posts and made it storm on my way home from here yesterday, but I was so mad when I left... maybe I can only do it when I’m upset?”

“Is Vanya really helping you get sober?” Diego whispers to him. Klaus nods and tries to read the look on his brother’s face. He looks put out.

“I know you always tried,” Klaus says. “You and Allison both tried to get me sober for years. Ben says you care. He’s always said that. I’ve just made myself blind to it for so long, it never feels real. I know I’m the butt of every joke and Dad’s biggest disappointment. I think I had to... I think I had to make the decision to be sober on my own. I have to do it for me.”

“I get that,” Diego says. “I hope you’ll let me help.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to realize I can’t do this by myself. I’m - I’m gonna need all the help I can get, I think. Vanya too,” Klaus says. Diego nods, though he’s frowning. “I know you’re mad about the book thing. I get it. I was mad too, at first, and sad. But I think I was wrong about what I said before. I don’t think it’s too little, too late for any of us. Nothing about our lives has ever been conventional, but we might be able to be a family. If we try.”

“Okay,” Diego agrees. “I’ll try. For you.”

“Not for me,” Klaus disagrees. “For you.”

“Klaus, something’s happening,” Ben interrupts. Klaus returns his focus to the conversation at hand. Luther is flipping through Dad’s journal, looking increasingly more concerned.

“I don’t like this,” he says. “Dad has no idea what to do to control her power. She could be dangerous.”

“We’re all dangerous,” Five says brusquely. “That’s why we got training.”

“If she was too dangerous to train as a child, she can’t be taught now,” Luther argues. “I say we put her in lock up until we figure out what to do. If he was afraid of her, we should be too.”

“Lock up?” Klaus asks. “No, absolutely not.” He looks over at Vanya, who’s shrunken in the large chair.

“There’s a concrete room downstairs where she can stay until we know what we’re dealing with,” Luther forges on. He looks at Vanya. “Come on. Let’s go.”

“No way,” Klaus snaps. He springs up from the sofa and steps between Luther and Vanya. “You’re not locking her up anywhere.”

“I’m with Klaus. She’s our sister, Luther. She needs us,” Diego agrees.

“Get out of my way,” Luther says calmly.

“No. I’m not going to let you do this,” Klaus says.

Luther’s huge hand darts out and grabs him by his throat. Klaus chokes, grasping at Luther’s hand the same way he did the day before when he was in the same situation. He doesn’t have the strength to fight Luther off, especially not when he’s still suffering through the shakes and sweats of sobriety. Diego tries to pull him off, but Luther flings him away like he weighs nothing. Allison and Vanya are screaming. Klaus kicks out, but his vision is going dark quickly, and -

A fist collides with the side of Luther’s head so hard that it startles him enough to drop Klaus to the floor. Luther stumbles, his hand coming up to pass at his split ear. Klaus scrambles back, clutching at his throat. Vanya helps pull him away, letting him lean heavily against her as she props him up into a sitting position. He’s all but in her lap. Her hands flutter against his chest and back, as if she’s checking to make sure he’s still breathing. He pants desperately for breath, looking around at his shell-shocked siblings and wondering who was the one who threw the punch.

“Don’t you touch him!” Ben is shouting. It takes Klaus a moment to realize that all of his siblings are staring at Ben. They can see him. “Don’t you ever fucking lay your hands on him again! You can’t just choke people out when they do something you don’t like. He’s your brother, you fucking moron. If you ever touch him again, I swear to God -“

“Ben,” Klaus groans. Ben’s chest is glowing a dangerous blue that matches the blue glow surrounding Klaus’s hands. His heart is hammering at the idea that Ben might be able to release The Horror in his ghostly state. He doesn’t want to be choked out by Luther again, but he also doesn’t want Ben to kill him. “Ben, I’m okay. It’s okay.”

“Ben,” Vanya echoes softly. Ben looks over at her, then around at all of his siblings gawking at him. His anger deflates.

“Hi,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s nice to see you,” Vanya says shyly. Ben’s face softens.

“It’s nice to finally be able to talk to you guys again,” he says. “Listen to me. I’ve watched you all totally screw each other and yourselves over for years. It’s exhausting. You need to learn how to listen to each other and work together as a team. You can’t just punch people whenever you want to just because you’re stronger. You can’t just rumor your way out of the apocalypse, or teleport away or whatever. Vanya is our sister, and she needs your help.”

“Master Ben is right,” Pogo says. “Master Reginald was never successful in creating a cohesive team. In his attempts to unify you, I fear he tore you apart.”

Ben flickers in and out of view momentarily. Klaus winces. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how long I can hold him. I don’t even know how I’m doing it.”

“You need to stop doubting each other. Just help each other. Be a family,” Ben says. Klaus can tell when he stops being visible by the way his siblings start to look curiously around the room at empty air. He’s bone tired and sage back against Vanya’s chest.

“You weren’t lying,” Allison says faintly. “He really has been with you this whole time.”

“Of course he wasn’t lying. His power is literally conjuring the dead. Why would he lie about that?” Five asks. The siblings share guilty looks. Five rolls his eyes. “He was right, though. We can help each other.”

“Maybe Vanya’s the key,” Klaus mumbles.

“Come here,” Diego grunts. He hauls Klaus to his feet and puts him back on the couch. Klaus squeezes his arm in thanks.

“Maybe she can stop the apocalypse,” Klaus continues tiredly. “I’d love to dig into that idea a little bit, but...”

“Rest,” Five mumbles. “You might be oN to something.” He disappears in a flash of blue light.

“Come on,” Allison whispers to Luther. Pogo nods and heads toward the infirmary. She tugs him toward the door. “Let’s go sew up that ear.”

That leaves Diego, Vanya, and Klaus. Vanya looks at Diego nervously. He sighs and pulls her into an embrace. She clutches back at him briefly, and then they both pull away, looking awkwardly at anything but each other.

“I’m so tired,” Klaus groans. “And so sober. This sucks. This is the worst day ever. I hate -“

“Klaus?”

Diego and Vanya both turn. There’s a man standing in the doorway. Diego reaches for one of his knives. Vanya steps back, closer to Klaus, her hands up defensively. Klaus forces his eyes open. His face crumples.

“Who are you?” Diego shouts.

“Dave,” Klaus gasps. “Dave, you’re here. I did it!”

Dave bounds forward, and then Klaus is in his arms. He weeps into his shoulder - cold, but solid - and clutches at his vest. He pulls away long enough to cup Dave’s face in his shaking hands. He drinks in every detail, and feels the hollow cavity in his chest begin to fill again.

“Dave?” Vanya asks.

“I did it,” Klaus whispers. “I brought you back.”

“I missed you,” Dave whispers. He kisses Klaus’s brow. “It’s been so long. I looked for you, but I didn’t know how to find you.”

“I knew you could do it,” Ben says excitedly. He’s all but jumping up and down in excitement.

“You must be Ben,” Dave says. He looks at Vanya and Diego. “I’m Dave.”

“My lover,” Klaus says dramatically in response to their twin confused expressions. Vanya blushes.

“He’s the one you lost,” Diego murmurs.

“But I found you,” Klaus says. He curls his fingers gently around the back of Dave’s neck, feels the prickle of hair from the close military shave.

“I told you I’d never leave you alone,” Dave says. “You’re never gonna be alone again.”

“I’m starting to believe that,” Klaus whispers. He leans into Dave’s embrace.