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Vanya was really starting to enjoy getting therapy. At first, she’d been against the idea. Only speaking when necessary, and even then, holding back her true thoughts. But she’d come to learn it was actually very helpful. Apparently she had blocked out some of her formative memories. She wasn’t really sure why, but her therapist said it’s normally the brain’s way of coping with trauma - a sense of self preservation. Vanya didn’t doubt dad, and her siblings, had done things to her she’d subconsciously choose to forget. It was like she was finally able to start... moving on... become her own person. She was glad her professor at her music college had recommended she start therapy. Vanya was ashamed to admit it, but she’d neglected to tell her therapist of her anti-anxiety medication. She’d been on them as long as she remembered, the thought of coming off them was terrifying. No, they would remain her secret, and one of the last ties she had to her father.
Stepping out of the building, Vanya noticed how sickly humid the mid summer air was. She sighed and removed her backpack so she could take off her button up, leaving just her white t-shirt underneath. She rubbed at her bare arms self consciously, as though she could erase them from everyone’s vision.
“How the hell was I supposed to know it was soap?” Vanya paused, she recognised that voice, and the smell of cigarettes, and shuddered. “Well, why would they make it look so... cheese-like then?!” She could probably dart off in the other direction if she tried not to make too much noise. “At least I have the bath bombs now...” maybe she could just step back inside the building, wait it out. Klaus huffed out a chesty laugh “You’re just jealous you don’t have corporeal hands to pull off a five finger discount.” Screw it, she’d just try and escape. He’d probably not even notice, clearly occupied with his own imagination. Well - that’s what she had planned, until the large front entrance door behind her finally slammed and drew Klaus’ attention right to her.
“Vanny?!” his brow was furrowed in confusion, an animated smirk on his face. “I love the...” Klaus gestured a cigarette occupied hand at her hair, causing Vanya to let out a small cough and crinkle her nose “...banglessness.” he drawled. Vanya wished she still had the bangs right now, so she could hide behind them for this encounter. Maybe she’d have to get them cut back in. “Thanks.” she shyly smiled up at Klaus, “I like the uh...” she paused. She didn’t even know where to begin, she knew she wasn’t a fashionista like Allison, but even she could tell this outfit was... eclectic at best. “I like these.” she apprehensively pointed up at his tiny, hot pink sunglasses.
“Ask her how she’s doing.” Ben gruffly demanded. Jeez, where were Casper’s manners? Klaus pettily rolled his eyes at him and glanced back to his fun-sized little sister. “Soooooo... how’s uhhhh-” he tapered off.
“Music school.” Ben cut in with a sigh. Klaus snapped his fingers giddily “Music school, right!” Vanya was looking down at her feet, gently biting her lip. Oopsies, guess he hurt her feefees. “It’s going okay.” she spread her weight from foot to foot, clearly planning a way to get out of this chat. He didn’t blame her, he didn’t particularly want to be talking to her either.
It was uncomfortably silent between the two, the only noise being the riffraff from the street, and Klaus’ disgusting sniffles as he rapidly rubbed at his nose with the back of his hand. Breaking the lull, she mumbled “I didn’t, um... expect you to be the type to get therapy?” She moved her eyes up to the sign at the top of the building’s doorway that Klaus was casually leaning against. He snorted a laugh, then winced in pain and rubbed at his nose again. “Me neither, you have a flashback”, using bunny ears over the last word, “one time and next thing ya know you have” he made his voice whiny and sarcastic “court-ordered mandated therapy.” She assumed from the movement of his eyebrows that he did a theatrical eye roll behind his miniature magenta sunglasses. “You got the time?” He muffled from behind the cigarette butt he was trying to suck the last dregs of nicotine from, before making a little yelp as it burnt his fingers. Vanya glanced down at her wristwatch, “2:50.” she murmured. Klaus sighed dramatically and stamped out the butt with the end of his filthy purple sneakers. “Therapy time.” he sang-song at her, ruffling her hair before enveloping her in a tight hug - one she thought Klaus only reserved for Allison.
He pulled back from her - which she was grateful for as the smell of whiskey and cigarettes was overwhelming to her senses - and clasped her fingers tightly in his hands. Klaus pulled up his glasses and looked deeply into Vanya’s eyes and she could see fear within them, though she realised she was likely mirroring this look since the interaction was so bewildering for her. His pupils were ginormous. “Ben misses you, you know.” his voice was almost inaudible. Vanya’s blood boiled, and she harshly pulled herself away from his hold. “That’s not funny, Klaus - it’s never been funny.” her eyes filled with tears, she was so overwhelmed that she could’ve sworn she could hear her own manic heartbeat.
Klaus scrunched his face up and threw his head back in frustration, trying desperately in his thoughts to find some way to get her to believe him. He lowered his head back down, looking to her with pleading eyes. “I’m not kidding, Vanya.” he pulled his hands up into a prayer position, which made him feel a bit pathetic. “He’s right here, I swear to god!” Klaus threw both hands towards Ben, looking from him and back to Vanya again frantically. Vanya began to back away, her expression deeply disturbed.
“No wait, wait!” Klaus gestured a panicked hand towards her “Ben,” he turned to tearfully look at thin air “tell me something only you would know, please.” his voice breaking with emotion on the last word. Vanya couldn’t stand to watch this anymore... every possible rational explanation was utterly heartbreaking. Maybe he’d finally lost it, either from the drugs, his glaringly poor mental health, or a combination of the both. Maybe he was just making his lies more elaborate as a means to get more money out of them for drugs. He had done so many terrible things to make sure he never had to break his constant high, it sadly wasn’t even unlikely that he’d stoop that low.
”I’m sorry, Klaus.” she whimpered “I have to go.” She backed away quicker, watching him desperately telling her to “stop, he was telling the truth, no really this time, he swore to god, Ben was right there, he’s always there” before managing to blend into the crowded end of the avenue and turn away in the opposite direction.
—
It wasn’t until thirty tear-filled minutes into her subway ride home that she noticed her wrist was now distinctly lacking her watch.