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For so long, Ben had been afraid of going into the light. Moving on. He didn’t know what would happen once he finally crossed over, what he would find there, or if he’d even find anything at all. So, he had clung to his lifeline: Klaus. It was much easier to tag along with his brother, in life, than it was to contemplate whatever came with death. Whatever came when he finally loosened his grip on Klaus.
But as he wrapped his arms tightly around Vanya, around the big sister he hadn’t seen since childhood, Ben realised that it was time for him to go. He’d been incredibly lucky, in that he’d been given more time to hang around in the world that he’d left as a teenager. He didn’t regret the time that he’d spent with Klaus- with all of his siblings really, watching them grow up and find their own places in the world. He pressed his face into Vanya’s neck and finally, he let go.
He wasn’t afraid anymore.
When he opened his eyes, he found that Vanya had disappeared and he was alone. As for where he was, Ben wasn’t quite sure yet. He found himself standing on a beaten footpath, wide enough for a car to pass through, that ran through the countryside, fields of long grass on either side of him. Slowly, he turned and took it all in, noting that the only thing in sight was what looked like a treehouse and decided that he should head towards it.
Ben stepped off the path and onto the grass, feeling the strands tickle the soles of his bare feet. A breeze brushed past him, touching his face gently and rustling through his hair. Looking down, he wiggled his toes to feel the texture of the grass between them and realised that he had missed this. Passing through the world as a ghost had meant he was disconnected from these sensations, able to touch but not truly feel anything. Walking through the grass towards the treehouse felt comforting, homely somehow, warmth blooming in his chest.
Reaching the bottom of the treehouse, Ben looked up and realised that he couldn’t make out what the inside looked like. This piqued his interest further and he grabbed onto the rung of the ladder, enjoying the sensation of the wooden ladder creaking underneath his weight. It was just nice to feel some kind of weight in the world, the sensation of taking up space.
He was puzzled by what he came across at the top: it looked like some kind of bar or club, signs printed in both English and Vietnamese (which he couldn’t read), and despite the feeling he’d never been there in his life, Ben felt a sense of safety there. When he looked back to the ladder, confused as to how a club was balanced in a tree, he realised that it had completely disappeared.
Curiouser and curiouser, he couldn’t help thinking, remembering how Grace had read that book to him when he was little.
“Hey, you’re new here. You just get in?” a voice caught his attention and Ben spun around to see that there was a man sitting at one of the tables, a bottle of whiskey resting at his elbow.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben quickly crossed the room to the man and studied him curiously, “Where are we exactly?”
The man was about his height, a little taller perhaps, and had a kind sort of face. He had light brown hair, a little stubble, and was wearing a baby blue button-down shirt that exposed the top of his chest. He smiled easily at Ben, as if he was somehow expecting him somehow, and gestured for him to sit down. Noting the dog tags around his neck, something stirred in Ben.
Quickly, he realised that this was David Joseph Katz. But not the one that he had met. The one he had met in 1963 had been a kid, unsure of who he was and uncertain of his place in the world; this Dave was the man that Klaus had spoken about often, the one that he had fought with and watched die in Vietnam. And now, something (be it fate, an omniscient force, whatever) had brought the two of them together. Ben drew up a chair at the table.
“Well, I’m not exactly sure, but it looks a lot like where I served in the A Shau Valley,” Dave told him, pouring two shots of whiskey and pushing one towards him, “This place brings me a lot of happiness. I kissed the love of my life right over… There.”
He pointed at the far wall and Ben followed his gaze, smiling as he pictured the scene. It was nice to think of Klaus as being happy, carefree, and in love, even if it was against the backdrop of a terrible war that took thousands of innocent lives.
“Klaus,” Ben said, softly, and he knocked back the shot, “I didn’t get to say goodbye to him.”
Quietly, he couldn’t help thinking about all the people that he’d never gotten to say farewell to before he’d left. Not just Klaus, (who he regretted the most), but Allison, Diego, Luther, and Five. His siblings. At least he’d gotten to watch them grow up, instead of losing them immediately after that last fateful mission. He was grateful for it. Grateful to Klaus, for keeping him grounded long enough to see all of their lives unfold in front of him. Maybe it was for the best that he had left quietly: they’d all said their goodbyes to him at the funeral, as children, and there had been such a finality to it that another goodbye would’ve probably hurt too much to bear.
There was only one thing he was truly sad about, now that he thought about it. Ben was heartbroken that he’d never gotten to meet his niece, Claire. He hoped Allison still told her stories about him, so that he was still a part of her life. Even if it was indirectly.
Dave downed his shot in one, tilting his head back, and his eyes were sparkling when he looked back at Ben, “You know Klaus?”
When he looked at him like that, with that innocent youthful look in his eye, Ben could see the boy that he’d met at the paint store. Of course, Dave would have no idea that he had been there that day, in the shadows. Now that he thought about it, this Dave probably wouldn’t remember that event at all- so he didn’t bother bringing it up. It was good to see that the hardships of war hadn’t managed to take away that twinkle in his eye, which was good to see, and he realised what Klaus must’ve seen in him. Klaus probably fell head over heels as soon as he saw that sparkle.
“He’s my brother. My adopted brother, that is,” Ben told him, remembering his manners and holding out his hand for him to shake, “I’m Ben Hargreeves.”
“Dave Katz,” The man replied, confirming what he already knew and shaking his hand, “He spoke very fondly of you, when we were together. He said out of all six of them, you were his favourite one.”
This made Ben chuckle. His relationship with Klaus had definitely been a complex one: the two of them had always had a bond but they’d grown far closer after his death than they’d ever been while they were alive. Like the red string of fate had tied the two of them together, connecting them even in death. It hadn’t always been smooth for the two of them, of course, or they wouldn't be brothers. They’d argued a lot, Ben had despaired over Klaus, and Klaus had grown tired of Ben. But there was no doubt that they had never ever stopped loving each other, even when they were pissed off at each other. That was what being a brother was all about: unconditional love.
As much as Ben had been a source of comfort for his brother, always sticking by his side no matter what he did, it had worked both ways. Ben had been so afraid after his death, scared to go into the light just like he’d told Vanya, and the years that had he had spent with Klaus had alleviated the fear. Being with his brother had helped him more than Klaus would ever know. It was possible that his time as a ghost had been just as happy as the time he’d spent alive.
Memories of Klaus flashing through his mind, happy and golden, Ben finally got a good sense of what the phrase 'entire life flashing before your eyes' really referred to.
“He missed you a lot. How…” Dave swallowed, looking down at his hands, and his voice came out shaky, “How was he after I… You know?”
Ben thought about this for a moment. It was unsurprising that Klaus hadn’t coped well with Dave’s death, in the same way that he hadn’t coped well with Ben’s death or even Dad's death, but that was part of losing somebody you loved. There had been days of grief, despairing, and he had been there to watch Klaus sob his heart out as he sank into the bathtub. He had witnessed the tenderness with which his brother had touched Dave’s picture in the veteran’s bar and suddenly understood.
He had understood then, for the first time, exactly how much Dave had meant to him.
“Honestly? A wreck. But he nearly always is,” Ben answered honestly and they both laughed fondly; he paused, before continuing, “He learned to live with it, with time. But I don’t think a single day went by that he didn’t think about you.”
Dave nodded, seeming to process this information, “I think he’s the reason I’m here.”
“Because this place reminds you of him?” Ben guessed.
Having seen Klaus’s usual haunts, it was easy to picture him in this place. Prancing around the dance floor, slowly swaying to the music as it had taken over his entire body, and drinking far too heavily at the bar. Talking, drinking, and flirting. Just like he did whenever he was in a bar but, likely, much more passionately with the sense that he was living on borrowed time. Klaus would’ve known that his time in Vietnam would come to the end and, knowing his brother like he did, Ben suspected he would’ve seized every moment as if it was his last.
“No, that’s not it,” Dave shook his head slowly, looking thoughtful, “I’m… I’m waiting for him here. Does that make sense?”
It tugged at Ben’s heartstrings to think of how long the man must’ve been sitting here alone and he wondered how time passed here. Did it drag by like it did on Earth? Did it leap forward in bounds like it did for Number Five? Or did it drift back and worth, lapping like a wave against the shore, like it did for the commission?
“It must get lonely, waiting here by yourself,” Ben looked around, thinking that there wasn’t much to do here except drink. But as he did so, he suddenly noticed that the room had changed slightly in the time that they’d been talking, as if it had morphed to make itself more comfortable.
Now, bookshelves lined one wall of the bar and even from here, Ben could recognise some of his favourite books were standing proudly on the shelf. Not only that but the room looked a lot more like his childhood bedroom now: it was decorated with the same wallpaper that Grace had picked out for him and, among other things, a few Umbrella Academy posters hung on the walls, his siblings grinning back at him. Inspecting them closely, he saw that the posters weren’t exactly the same as the ones that had hung in his bedroom all those years ago.
These posters featured seven children, not six: little baby Vanya was standing proudly with the rest of them, finally looking like she belonged.
“It’s worth it, for him,” Dave replied and Ben turned back to look at him, feeling a lot happier already, “Trust me when I say I’ve had a long time to think about it,” Dave laughed, sounding more amused than sad about the fifty or so years he must’ve been sitting in this old bar, “I’m happy to wait as long as it takes for Klaus to get here.”
“In that case…” Ben reached for the bottle, pouring another two shots out with the kind of ease he’d seen his brother do hundreds of times, “How would you like some company while we wait?"
Dave smiled at him, nodding, “That would be nice.”
Picking up their shots, they clinked their glasses together before they drained them. Though, Ben suspected that the warmth that trickled down his throat and settled in his chest wasn’t just due to the whiskey. For the first time in a while, he just felt… at peace, sitting with Dave.
It didn’t matter how long they had to wait for Klaus, he thought to himself, or the others for that matter. The two of them had a lot to talk about in the meantime.