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Fun fact: Klaus cannot lie.
Oh, he can bend the truth, sure, like the best of them. He’s learned how to not say exactly what he means, but the fact remains: Klaus cannot lie.
Now, do the others believe him?
Rarely.
Good Ol’ Reg knew though. Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? He knew about all of their powers, he knew what phrase Allison had to use, he knew that Diego could curve things as he threw them, he knew that Klaus wasn’t crazy and he actually saw ghosts.
He knew Klaus cannot lie.
And he used it to his advantage.
Before Klaus got labeled as a lair, an addict, a junkie, a whore, a good for nothing piece of shit; he was labeled as a tattle-tail.
Whenever someone misbehaved Reggie knew to turn to Klaus and ask what happened, who did it? And Klaus cannot lie. So he told, he said what happened, he said who did it. He hadn’t learned to bend the truth yet, to twist words to suit his purpose. That came later.
That came after he broke his jaw.
Due to the ghosts, the mausoleum, the fact that his family hated him, none of them wanted to spend time with him because he was a tattle-tail, he put on his nicest outfit and jumped.
He didn’t fall down the stairs.
They’d know if they asked him that, but no one did.
But because he couldn’t talk, and he had to write down what he wanted to say (still, even with writing, Klaus cannot tell a lie), he was able to take his time and learn how to twist the truth to what he wanted to say.
So while he didn’t die like he wanted, he did learn two things out of his experience. He learned he could sort of but not really lie to hide the truth and he learned that drugs made the ghosts go away.
“Number Four,” Reggie’s face got closer as he addressed Klaus during torture resistance training, “we are both aware of your afliction, and while you are doing moderately better at not giving the answers I want during torture,” he cleaned some blood off a knife, “you could also just not answer.”
Klaus had never thought about not answering Reg when he asked him to tattle-tail. And Reg probably didn’t mean to put the idea that Klaus could just not answer him, but the fact remained, Klaus now realized--
He could just not answer.
Not able to bend the truth? Time to not say anything and stare his father down, even as he was dragged away to be punished. He’d laugh in Reggie’s face, “I won’t tell you!” And he’d grin as Reggie smacked him because he’d told the truth. Klaus cannot lie and so he won’t tell Reggie.
No more a tattle-tail.
“God, Klaus! Why did you have to tell dad about my makeup?” Allison glared, arms crossed.
Klaus looked up from his book, confused, “I didn’t.” Why would he have? She let him play with the makeup, he liked it. He liked having eyeliner and blush and lipstick, his nails done so pretty. He would never have told Reg about Allison having it.
“Well he found out, and you’re always the tattle-tail!” Allison argued. “So I know you did it. When I get more, I promise I won’t be sharing it with you!” She stomped off.
Klaus wondered how Reg had found out, because Klaus kept his mouth shut. Possibly the cameras or it was just as likely Luther told. Maybe because he was jealous of Klaus hanging out with Allison, so he wanted to take away what they were bonding over. But Klaus knew he hadn’t told.
He wasn’t a tattle-tail anymore.
But then it was time for all the other labels to slowly get added to his person.
And not the ones he put there, the ones that he wanted. When describing Klaus they never mentioned his gender, his sexuailty, his better qualities. No, it was always a liar, junkie, good for nothing whore. Which, if you asked him, meant he was good for something.
Okay, he’d concede that maybe he was an addict, a junkie, a whore; but, a liar?
Never.
Whenever he did try to lie, he was overcome with dread, his vision would blur, his heart heard in his ears pounding and pounding and pounding and his voice would get stuck in his throat, hands shaking, no breathing or too much breathing, a whine may escape but no lies.
Never any lies.
Once he did pass out.
He’d just been sitting in his room, trying to tell a lie. Any lie. He was actually Queen Elizabeth, the sky was purple, Sir Reginald Hargreeves was a good father. But no words came, instead he passed out and woke up in the infirmary, hooked up to all sorts of wires and tubes.
Grace informed him he’d almost died.
He laughed and laughed and laughed. The liar almost dying from trying to say his dad wasn’t a bastard.
“Don’t bother telling them you can see me,” Ben said, watching as Klaus took some of his special pills he’d bought from the guy in the alley. “They won’t believe you.”
Klaus giggled, “No shit. None of you tend to believe me. Oh the tragedy of Klaus and Kassandra, one in the same”
“Kassandra?” Ben questioned.
Klaus waved his hand, “That greek myth. The oracle who was never believed.” He laughed loudly. He’d thought about it before, how similar he could be to her myth. Since no one liked hanging out with the tattle-tail junkie whore he found he read a lot. Sometimes he read when the drugs let him, other times he just enjoyed being surrounded by the smell, feeling the pages and the leather bound books against his finger tips.
Apparently Diego was walking by his room though because he looked in with a confused face, almost worried, “Dude, you okay? Your laugh sounded kind of sad.” A good brother who would check on Klaus, unlike Luther who would just shove him aside, not worth his time.
Klaus wiped at some tears, giggling softly, not looking away from Ben, “Yeah, yeah. Just telling Ben about the greek myth of Kassandra.”
Diego scoffed, making a rude comment and leaving, stomping away, not believing.
Never believing.
“But you were,” Ben said slowly.
“But I was,” Klaus agreed. “If you were a greek story would you be the Trojan horse? An army in your belly.”
It continued, this time with Ben by his side, noticing each time their siblings didn’t believe whatever Klaus said. Ben was obviously confused by how no one even believed the most simple things. No, Klaus did not eat your hidden cookies; yes, Klaus took your skirt and he looks better in it anyway; no, Klaus did not deface your poster in your room.
And he saw how Reg acted around Klaus, how he kept a steady gaze and never called Klaus a liar like the others, and how when Klaus spoke up he believed with a small nod and how when Klaus kept quiet he glared and later punished and told him how he should just speak up, Number Four, then the punishment will stop. No need for the silence.
“You can’t lie, can you?” Ben asked one night when Klaus couldn’t sleep. He was trying to make a house of cards but his hands kept shaking from Reggie’s forced withdrawal. The deck of cards was from the 70’s. He got it from a pawn shop when he lightened Reggie of some of his trinkets.
The cards had naked men on them.
He was on the lookout for the, probably, matching deck of naked women.
“I can’t lie,” Klaus agreed. “I have tried but nothing happens. Once I almost died from trying to say daddy was a good guy. Ha! As if. I’ve never been able to tell a lie. Not even when drugged. They stop most ghosts-- lookin’ at you Ben, but it doesn’t stop the truthfulness of my powers. Which is so gross. How is that even a power? Truthfulness. Bullshit is what it is.”
“I--” Ben looked down at his hands, “I hardly ever believed you.”
“I know,” Klaus swore as his cards fell again. “Remember? I’m Kassandra. No one believes me. And why should they? Why is my word so trustworthy? I’ve learned to warp the truth and sidestep it. Do that enough and no one can believe you. It was practice against when I need to lie but can’t. Also like, it was really nice to not exactly tell the truth. Thrilling. Klaus did you do the thing? Well why would I? Of course I did the thing, probably. But! I learned how to curve my words like Diego does his knives.” He let out a giggle.
Klaus cannot tell a lie.
And this counted with singing. If the song would make a liar of him, he couldn’t sing the lines. It was very annoying, with how much he loved and relied on music, to not sing along was almost worse than the torture Reg would do.
Of which he still had his sessions, Ol’ Reg worried about the weak link of his numbers. Had to make sure Klaus could withstand and not break for one day, Number Four, you will be taken. No spilling secrets (that came later and via a different number, told to the world, a best seller for a hot minute, then it was as if no one cared, no one cared about little, ordinary Number Seven).
When Klaus got out and cleaned up, only letting Grace treat his worst wounds, for Klaus found it hard to trust her fully. Oh, he did love her, but when she helped Reg with all of his dastardly deeds, it made it so that Klaus could not trust her. When was she acting on her own, with her love; and when was she a tool for Reggie?
She smiled the same either way.
And then he went to his room.
“What the hell was that?” Ben asked, eyes wide.
“Daddy’s torture sessions. I’ve told you,” Klaus said, pointing at his brother. “I’ve said he tortures me. But no, it’s all: Buck up, Klaus. It’s not that bad. Ha! Mind you these fun bonding times are almost preferable to--” he closed his mouth with a snap.
Ben honed in, “To what?” He looked almost pale, which for a dead dude was interesting.
Klaus shook his head. No need to bring up his special training. It’s not like Ben would believe him. That or he’d say it wasn’t as bad. At least then he didn’t get cut up by Daddy Dearest. But to Klaus the mausoleum was worse.
Physical pain? No problem. It’ll heal. It’ll go away. Who cares? Not him.
He’d almost take physical pain over no pain. Let him feel how he was still in his body, he wasn’t a ghost like those who surround him. He’s alive, he’s real, he feels things.
Klaus was grounded when there was something tying him to the earth, not letting him float away. A string to keep his balloon from joining the clouds, as much as he was high enough to reach them.
“Klaus,” Ben said, tone almost begging, “what else does he do to you?”
“I shan’t be telling,” Klaus said, sticking his tongue out. “And if I don’t break for him, what makes you think I’d break for you?”
“I’ll believe you,” Ben said imploringly. “I promise Klaus. I get it now, you cannot lie. Everything you’ve said is true, right? We just dismissed you.”
Klaus glanced at Ben before looking down at a fresh bandage, he smoothed down the edge of the tape. Voice smaller than he’d like, “You promise?”
“That I’ll believe you?”
Klaus nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
The idea of one of his siblings, of anyone besides Reg to believe him, to know he was telling the truth-- He knew that Ben hadn’t even trusted after he died. About his so-called power, to not lie. He knew it was hard for Ben to believe, but maybe? Maybe he saw through Klaus and finally realized. Maybe before when he said he understood that Klaus cannot lie, maybe Ben wasn’t lying.
“Of course I’ll believe you.”
Klaus opened his mouth and spoke of the mausoleum, of trying to kill himself at the age of twelve, of how he learned to lie even though he couldn’t, of how the drugs helped him, not just with the ghosts but with numbing himself to how no one liked him.
Of how he didn’t like himself, so he didn’t blame the others with how they treated him.
He ran away soon after, at Ben’s suggestion.
Not that Ben intended for him to become homeless in a week and selling himself more than ever, taking more drugs, eating less, sleeping either not at all or for far too long.
Ben didn’t approve.
Well fuck Ben, what did he know? He was dead.
Klaus knew, and if he said it, it had to be true right? After all--
Klaus cannot lie.
Knowing how to lie about lying was very handy when living on the streets. It was almost like he was a normal person. Hardly any ghosts, could hide the truth like the best of them. The drugs and the long winding way he spoke became his armor.
Still, sometimes his mouth got him into trouble because Klaus cannot lie.
“Just tell them what happened,” Diego pleaded to Klaus, sitting in a cell.
tattle-tale tattle-tail tattle-tail
“I’m not a narc, Diego,” Klaus muttered, his hands over his face. He wasn’t. He wasn’t a narc. He wasn’t a tattle-tail. He wasn’t.
“Klaus--” Ben started.
Klaus turned on him, “Shut up, Ben! No! You know-- you know--”
“Klaus,” Diego sighed, “Ben isn’t here. He’s dead and you’re still high. C’mon bud, if you just tell us about who is selling the drugs, you can come home with me. Sleep in a real bed, eat an actual meal, clean up. When’s the last time you ate huh?”
“I don’t remember,” Klaus answered truthfully; as if he could do anything but that.
“That sounds great, Klaus,” Ben said. “He’d help you get sober too.”
Klaus rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to be sober.”
Diego held up his hands, “Didn’t say anything about you being sober, bro. But if while you stayed with me you wanted to, I’d help you detox.”
“I don’t want to be sober. And I’m not a narc. I’m not,” Klaus crossed his arms and leaned back in the cell.
Diego muttered something that sounded like how that was news to him.
So off the prison he went.
“Well that was better than the Academy,” Klaus said, lighting up a cigarette as he left the building, a free man once more.
Klaus cannot lie.
“Luther!” Klaus ran up to his brother who he hadn’t seen in years. “It’s good to see you, man!” He grinned, happy to see that he hadn’t been killed by Reg yet.
Luther sighed, “I don’t have any money for you.”
“I-- What? I don’t want money from you,” Klaus frowned. He just wanted to say hi. Sure, he’d take money if Luther offered, but it was nice seeing a friendly face.
Or so he thought.
He glanced at Ben who shrugged.
Luther snorted, “Sure you don’t. Listen, I’m on my way to an important meeting with the mayor. I can’t chat with you, I can’t take you to get food, and I don’t have any money for you. It was good to see that you’re still alive but I don’t have time for you.”
Oh.
“Right.”
Well goodbye then.
But he couldn’t say it because Luther just walked away and there was no ‘good’ nor no ‘bye’ to be spoken of.
“What an asshole,” Ben frowned, watching Luther get farther from them.
“Nah, he’s just busy,” Klaus said, shoving his hands in his pockets. It was nice to see Luther. He wished it could’ve been for longer.
It was much later when he found a book signing.
“Not bad,” Klaus handed the book to Vanya for her to sign. “I really liked how you stuck it to the old bastard. And uh-- you have a good way with words. Very talented.”
She didn’t take his book, she didn’t open it up and leave a little note to him, she didn’t sign her name. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”
“I’m not,” Klaus said. “Like, I didn’t agree with everything you wrote but it’s still a good read.”
Klaus cannot lie.
Vanya did not know that, even when he said he didn’t lie, that he couldn’t lie, that he always told the truth--
“Please just leave before you start a scene,” Vanya said, looking down, as if he struck her, as if he had been the one to go after her character instead of--
He nodded, “See ya around, I guess.”
He didn’t. Not until the funeral that was.
And that was a mess, still no one trusting him, believing him. Five had shown him some mercy, asking for help, keeping him somewhat included but thankfully not too included.
When Cha-Cha brought out the knives, Klaus laughed so hard he started hiccuping. He remembered how Reg told him during a torture resistance session
for one day, Number Four, you will be taken.
Oh how right he was.
And if they thought a little pain would break him? Well, he didn’t know him very well. And it is important for the torturer to know whom they are torturing. Too bad they figured that out. Not that they knew everything, he didn’t know about how Klaus cannot lie, they didn’t realize that when they locked him in the closet it broke him better than any physical pain could have.
Klaus cannot lie.
“You just get into the country?” The handsome soldier asked.
“Oh, uh,” Klaus wasn’t sure where he was but he wasn’t in the USA, “yeah.”
Klaus cannot lie.
“Dave,” Klaus said, holding him close, listening to his heartbeat, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Spook,” Dave replied, hand running through Klaus’s hair. “I love you too.”
Klaus cannot lie.
“Please stay with me!” Klaus pleaded, “Stay with me!”
That was possibly the closest he had come to lying because Dave did not stay with him.
C’est la vie.
The world does not end, no one else dies, some could call it good planning, Klaus would call it a miracle. Not one that they didn’t pay for, not with Klaus and Diego losing loved ones, not with Allison’s voice taking a hit, not with how Vanya had to relive the trauma of being locked away. But Five just happened to come home at the right time and when Klaus met him at the door saying, “Luther locked her up!” Five believed him.
See?
A miracle.
While Five had believed him then, it was no promise that they all would for always. Slowly they started to believe him more, seeing that he was sober now, asking why he just had a panic attack, starting to not question him whenever he brought up what he’d been through.
But still, he knew much of what he said was taken at face value.
“Thank god daddy did give me torture training.”
“Better than what we had in the war.”
“I’ve met God and she has nothing to do with it.”
Then they were going through Reggie’s journals. Looking for information on Vanya’s powers or anyone else’s, small insights that might help them in the long run when--
“Klaus?” Klaus looked up to see Luther staring at the book in his hand, face gone pale. The others glanced at them, noting the tone in Luther’s voice. “Did dad torture you?”
Klaus shrugged, “Yeah? I’ve told you.”
“No, but like,” Luther gestured to the journal, “he actually tortured you?”
Klaus raised his eyebrows, frowning, “Yeah. I’ve told you.”
“Hold on,” Diego spoke up, “hold on. Like, what type of torture?”
Klaus shrugged, “All of it? He called it torture resistance training. I mean, it did help whenever I’ve been tortured since all those fun bonding times with dear papa.” He looked down to continue reading the book in his lap. It was some boring shit about a trip to Brazil he’d gone on.
“Klaus, we need to talk about this,” Luther said, snapping his fingers to make Klaus look up.
Klaus sighed and glanced at Ben who was watching them all intently, “Do we? It’s not like I’ve never told you and it’s not like you will believe me about it anyway. So why bother? I’ll mention something he did and you won’t trust me, which is ridiculous, honestly.” He smirked at Ben, “Ha! Honestly. Get it?”
Ben rolled his eyes.
Allison frowned, clearly wanting to help. We’re listening now. She showed off the notebook.
Vanya nodded, “I don’t think there is anything we wouldn’t believe after the last few weeks.”
“You should tell them,” Ben said, tilting his head and looking their siblings over.
Five grabbed the book from Luther’s hands, quickly glancing at it. “There are diagrams to what he did.”
“Kinky,” Klaus chuckled.
“Klaus this was real torture,” Five flipped a few pages. “Stuff they teach you at the Commission.”
“Sure,” Klaus agreed. “Cha-Cha and Hazel tried their best but nothing they did beat some of the stuff he did. I mean sure, they knew every trick in the book but I’d guess that dad wrote the thing. Can’t have me be a liability to the team.”
“Why would you be the liability?” Vanya asked. “I would think he’d call me the liability once he drugged my powers, right? I was ordinary.”
“I cannot lie,” Klaus shrugged.
“What? You lie a lot. Less now that you’re sober--” Luther started.
Klaus had thought for a second that maybe they’d start to believe him, they said they would, but he should have known. He shook his head, “Nevermind, man. Nevermind.” He started to get up and leave. He didn’t need to hear them call him a liar again.
Five looked up from the journal, walking up, he pushed Klaus back down into his chair, “You cannot lie.”
Klaus glanced from Five to Luther, back to Five and nodded.
“Five?” Vanya asked, “What did dad write?”
Five turned to the others, standing almost protectively in front of Klaus, “Klaus cannot lie. It’s-- the torture was because Klaus has a secondary power--”
Klaus snorted, “If you can call it that.”
“--where he cannot lie.” Five held up the book, “You can read about it here if you don’t believe him but,” Five then faced Klaus and put a hand on his shoulder, “I do.”
I do.
Klaus had gotten to where he never thought that his living siblings would believe him, about anything. Ben got a first hand look at how Klaus cannot lie, but to have someone who wasn’t stuck with him to believe-- Not just that, but Five, who had been gone for so long and only had Vanya’s book to trust beforehand-- Sure, Five had read it in Ol’ Reg’s journal, stating that it was a power but he’d been the first one to trust Klaus, to believe Klaus, even without the journal.
“Why wouldn’t you tell us that it’s your power?” Vanya asked.
“I told you-- I told you all that I cannot lie. Over and over again. None of you believed me. Afflicted like Kassandra, spat in the mouth by Apollo, cursed to be called a liar,” Klaus winked at Ben. He tried to not let the hurt show that even with backup from Reggie, his family questioned, unsure if he was telling the truth.
Klaus cannot lie.
The room was quiet.
He should have known they still wouldn’t believe him.
“Klaus,” Diego said, sounding choked, “you cannot lie? But you said-- the shit you’ve said--”
“It’s all true,” he worried his thumb nail. He knew how his life sounded, even with a Hargreeves background, it would be hard to trust.
The room burst in noise, all of them asking to expand on what he’d said over the years, apologizing for not knowing, not believing, for calling him a liar, for letting their dad torture him, that they would be there for him now, they would listen, they would trust, they would believe him.
Klaus wasn’t sure if they would hold up on those promises, after all, they could lie and
Klaus cannot lie.
Turned out, they hadn’t lied.