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Ben can't remember the last time that Klaus looked as though he had gotten a good night's sleep.
Ben thinks that he should say something about it. He should stop with his feeble glances and whispered words of concern. A quiet question of whether or not Klaus is alright – which always ends with his brother turning him away with a promise that he's doing absolutely fine – is not going to cut it. Klaus won't take the opportunity to talk about his problems. Klaus won't admit that he spends so many nights sneaking into Ben's room long after bedtime. He'll never admit to slipping under the covers – unaware that Ben is wide awake for it – and struggling to calm his breathing enough to even feign sleep.
Ben knows that he doesn't sleep. Even if he pretends. Even if he wraps an arm around Ben's shoulders and acts as though he's the big brother or the protector or the one looking to give comfort rather than receive it. No matter what act Klaus puts on, Ben knows that he's the one not sleeping. He's the one struggling. He's the one seeking comfort and reassurance.
Ben knows, because he struggles to sleep too. He struggles to slip away into any kind of peace and can barely find what he needs to relax his shoulders at night. He dreads the thought that he's yet to fully understand the creature lurking beneath his skin. What if he's been wrong about it? What if something happens? What if he loses control?
Ben lies wide awake with thoughts of the horror. He feigns sleep, more often than not, under the assumption that Klaus will be sneaking into his room once again. The last thing in the world he wants is for Klaus to have confirmation that Ben knows. If Ben knows, then Klaus will recede. Go back to hiding. Keeping himself at arm's-length and drowning himself in drugs that Ben still doesn't fully understand, but knows that he hates more than anything.
Knows that he hates more than anything, when he hears sounds of his brother retching and heaving in the bathroom just across from their bedrooms. When he sees the bloodshot redness of Klaus' eyes. When he sees how his brother's hands shake and the way his eyes dart around the room. Ben can't decide which he hates more. The drugs that take his brother from him, or the ghosts that left him with no other choice.
"Klaus." Ben's voice has always been small. Klaus has never stopped commenting on how adorable it is, that their most terrifying brother is the one with the smallest voice. Most nervous demeanor. Klaus will just smile and rub a hand through his hair and say something about how Ben should never change. He disagrees. He thinks, if he's going to be able to help his brother, he has to change.
"Oh, Ben." Klaus blinks those hazy-looking eyes, lifting his head from where he's crouched over the toilet. There are heavy bags under his eyes. Just like there always are. They pull his entire face down. They make him look older than the 14 they both are. There has to be something that Ben can do about it. There has to be.
"What's up, Benny boy?" Klaus' lips spread into that perfectly fake grin. The one that always seems to convince the others that absolutely nothing is wrong. Just Klaus being Klaus. Probably high again or just messing around. It might convince Allison. Luther. Diego. Maybe even Five and Vanya.
But not Ben.
It's never convinced Ben.
"Um... are you okay...?" He asks quietly, fumbling with his hands and glancing away from his brother's eyes. "Are... are you sick?"
Klaus raises an eyebrow. As if to say seriously? He’s probably right. It should be obvious. People – well, normal people – typically don’t hunch themselves over the toilet and make retching sounds if they’re feeling well. He must be dopesick again. Or he’s going through withdrawal? Ben isn’t sure. He isn’t sure that he wants to know. All he knows is that Klaus looks awful. Absolutely awful. His arms and legs are shaking like a leaf in the wind, his make-up (something he so rarely wears, and certainly not in front of the utter monster they get to call their father) is smeared, as though he was either crying or wiping a hand over his eyes or both.
“Um…” Ben looks down at his hands. It isn’t as though Klaus is going to say anything. If there’s anyone in this house that he can trust, that he knows won’t say a single thing to put him down or shame him for his quiet nerves or his complete inability to stand up for himself, it’s probably Vanya. But at a very close second stands Klaus, the one who responds to that quiet nervousness by ruffling a hand through Ben’s hair and calling him Klaus’ cutest brother. But none of that is important now. Klaus is sick and shaking and Ben doesn’t know what to say, but he knows that he needs to work that out sooner rather than later. Before Klaus stands up and walks off and they’re left to repeat that nightly cycle once again.
“Got something to say, bro?” Klaus raises an eyebrow, standing on shaky feet that make Ben’s chest swell with nerves. What if he falls? What if he hits his head? What if he hurts himself? Maybe Ben is too nervous. Maybe he’s too scared. Maybe the idea of anything happening to Klaus scares him so much because he just can’t imagine what he would do if he lost the one person in this entire house who he feels comfortable with. The only person in the entire house who knows how to smooth his hair just right to calm him down. The only person who lets him listen to their breathing at night – even if it is unintentional – and lets him forget, even for a moment, that he’s a monster. That he’s a demon. That he could very well end up out of control, killing everyone he loves, losing everything he cares about–
“Oh, um,” Ben somehow can’t find the words. How stupid. He’s so determined to help his brother feel even a little bit better, and yet he can’t even get the words out to do so. He takes a short breath. Klaus leans a hand against the bathroom wall, as though he can’t even keep himself upright without it. Ben thinks he feels something in him break, just a little, at the sight of Klaus’ knees trembling the way they do. “I, um, I can’t sleep.” He whispers, rubbing at his right hand with his left thumb. Trying to dispel the nerves bringing tension to his shoulders. “And… I heard you in the bathroom. I don’t wanna wake anyone up, so…” He glances to the side before looking at Klaus’ feet. “Will you… um…”
Klaus doesn’t respond, for a second. He blinks. Stares. Ben is almost afraid that he’ll say no. That he’ll laugh and wave Ben off with a cheesy line about how the owner of some crazed Eldritch horror doesn’t need his brother to comfort him to bed. Some part of him knows that Klaus would never do that. The rest of him isn’t following that kind of logic, at the moment. The rest of him is desperately worried that Klaus will turn him down, walk out of that bathroom, and never come back.
Klaus stares at him. Stares at him for another few minutes, as though he’s trying to figure out if Ben is telling the truth or if this is some kind of elaborate trick. Maybe it is an elaborate trick, but Ben can’t think of it as a bad thing. All he wants is for his brother to get some sleep. It’ll be easier to get Klaus to sleep if he can do something about it.
“You sure?” Klaus finally asks. He stands up just a bit straighter. His voice is just a bit more serious. His voice doesn’t doubt Ben. There’s no doubt there. It isn’t that. The uncertainty is more… with himself. As though Klaus doubts that he’s the right person for the job. As though he thinks Ben should leave him to choke on the bathroom floor and go ask someone else for help instead. The thought makes Ben nauseous. Not just the idea of someone else being the one to slip under his covers and smooth his hair and hold him until he falls asleep. Not just the idea of leaving Klaus here alone.
The sinking, horrid feeling deep in the pit of his stomach that, if he lets Klaus out of his sight now, he might never see him again.
“Mhm.” Ben nods. “I’m sure.”
Klaus blinks. Hesitates. As though waiting for Ben to change his mind. He doesn’t. There’s nothing in the world that could get him to change his mind.
Klaus sighs, runs a hand through his messy brown hair, and nods. Ben tries to ignore how his brother’s fingers are still trembling. He tries to ignore how Klaus looks as though he’s about to collapse where he stands. He tries to ignore Klaus’ eyes, still darting around the room, as though he sees something that Ben just isn’t capable of perceiving. Maybe he does. No, scratch that. It’s almost certain.
“Well don’t just stand there, Benny boy.” Klaus’ lips twist into that familiar smirk. It still isn’t convincing enough to make Ben think that it’s real, but he’d have to give Klaus an A for effort. He really is trying to sell it. “If you’re so desperate to get to sleep, then let’s hurry up and get you to sleep!” Klaus waves his hands emphatically. Ben can’t help but smile when he thinks about the last time he and Klaus got the chance to just talk. When Klaus had come into his room before lights out and just sat on his bed while Ben was mid-book. With anyone else, Ben might have been annoyed. But Klaus had looked so disturbed. Hair messed up and eyes streaked with tears and voice shaky as he rambled about how cool he thought it would be to get tattoos on the palms of his hands. He had described his idea of the perfect tattoo – a “hello” on one hand and a “goodbye” on the other – and Ben had giggled loud enough to seemingly calm his brother’s nerves and send Klaus into an entirely separate rant about how cool tattoos are as a concept. How he thought that he and Ben should get matching ones. As much as Ben doesn’t love the idea of letting any more of those needles anywhere near him, he might be willing to do it if it’s something that Klaus really wants.
Ben nods. Klaus wraps an arm around his shoulders and starts on one of his rants. He keeps his voice down as he does it, but he still starts rambling. Something about how sleep is important, Ben, and if you don’t sleep then your training performance will go down! You wouldn’t want something like that. Ben can’t help but agree, but has to resist the sudden and strengthened urge to ask how Klaus’ training is going, if sleep is so important to a good performance. It isn’t as though Klaus trains with them regularly – or ever. Ben thinks it must have something to do with his powers. He isn’t well-suited to combat. Klaus can barely lift himself out of beds in the morning, when he thinks Ben is still asleep and stumbles out of the room before he can wake up. How is he meant to send any bad guys flying? Though it leaves Ben with the question of what exactly Klaus’ training is. For all the time that they spend together, and how much more Klaus seems to trust Ben than their other siblings, he still hasn’t been granted that information.
Klaus leads right into Ben’s room. There isn’t even a moment’s hesitation in his brother’s body as Klaus sheds his coat. He’s wearing pajamas underneath it – was he just really cold, then? His eyes dart around the room again. As though an entirely new set of eyes that Ben can’t see have joined them while he wasn’t looking. Ben wonders, briefly, if Klaus’ training has anything to do with surveilling for dead people. He can’t think of many other reasons that Klaus’ eyes would be so alert. And yet, once that coat is off his shoulders and slung over Ben’s chair, Klaus’ shoulders almost relax. Almost. As though he’s relieved. As though he can finally relax. Ben doesn’t understand it, but right now he doesn’t need to. Klaus is here and isn’t going to leave, and that’s enough.
With an almost cheerful laugh, Klaus flops down onto Ben’s bed with no restraint or hesitation. He spreads his skinny limbs out over the sheets as Ben quietly closes the door behind them. He hears rustling, quiet and quick, and turns around to find Klaus settled under the covers. His arms are open, as though waiting for Ben to crawl right into them, and there’s a massive grin on his face. The others might think it teasing, but Ben knows better. There’s no judgement or malice in that smile, and Ben quickly slips under the covers and lets Klaus wrap him up in those skinny arms of his. Even though Ben was the one to ask for comfort, he can tell Klaus is the one who needs it.
Everything is quiet for a while. There’s no sound in the room except for the shaky and unsteady sound of Klaus’ breathing, as though he’s trying his best but simply can’t find a rhythm. Ben would have to admit that, even for him, staying awake is difficult. What with Klaus smoothing his hair like he always does, in that way that always makes Ben feel relaxed. Safe. Like it won’t matter if he closes his eyes and just lets himself drift away. But he refuses to fall asleep. Not until Klaus does.
He peeks up a few times and always sees the same thing. Klaus staring intently ahead. As though he sees something that Ben can’t and is trying to stop it from coming closer. One might even read it as protectiveness. As if he thinks whatever this invisible threat is might hurt Ben if Klaus doesn’t keep his gaze firmly fixed on it. The idea of anyone being protective over him is odd enough on its own, but that person being Klaus? Ben can’t say that it’s necessarily out of character, but it is surprising. Ben thinks it should be the other way around. Perhaps it is the other way around. Or perhaps it simply goes both ways. Ben would love nothing more than to stay like this – with Klaus’ arms wrapped around him and safely hidden beneath his covers – forever. He would love to keep Klaus far far away from whatever it is that makes his limbs tremble like a leaf in the wind and keeps his breath from steadying and stops him from getting the sleep he so clearly needs.
“Klaus.” Ben whispers, quiet enough that he fears for a moment that Klaus won’t hear him over the sound of his own breathing. It takes long enough for Klaus to blink himself out of his trance and look down to meet Ben’s eyes.
“Hm? What’s up, Bennerino?” Klaus smirks, and Ben wishes he could unsee the moment of pure terror in his brother’s eyes.
“Um… well…” He glances away from Klaus’ eyes. “You… were sick. Are you okay..?”
Klaus blinks again. Confused. Uncertain. His eyes search for a response for a long moment before his lips part and form that grin again. The grin that manages to convince almost everyone else under the roof that Klaus is just fine. That he’s just making fun. That he’s relaxed and laid back and nothing in the world bothers him. Ben might be able to forgive Luther and Diego and Allison for not noticing. He might be able to forgive Vanya and Five for not saying anything. He could never forgive himself for the same things. He’s the one Klaus speaks to the most. He’s the one who’s learned to read Klaus’ face like a book. Who’s going to notice if Ben doesn’t? Who’s going to take care of Klaus if Ben doesn’t step up to the plate?
“Course I’m okay, Benny.” Klaus says with that same confident tone, as though Ben can’t hear the shake still in his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be? Just got a little nauseous, that’s all. Don’t you worry about me.” Klaus ruffles his hair, as though they aren’t exactly the same age, and grins. Ben still doesn’t buy it.
“…you look tired.” Ben whispers. “You know you can sleep, right?” Ben looks up at him almost hopefully. Maybe, just maybe, he can convince his stupid brother to just fall asleep for once. “Whatever it is…” Ben raises his arms to wrap around Klaus’ torso. “…it can’t hurt you. I won’t let it.”
Klaus starts. Freezes up. Ben can still feel him shaking. He thinks that definitely can’t be healthy, and wonders just what could have his carefree, energetic, excitable brother going so damn quiet. Ben absolutely doesn’t like it. Klaus isn’t supposed to be shaking like he’s been left in the cold without a coat, and he’s definitely not supposed to look so exhausted and terrified. It only takes a moment for Klaus’ tension to melt away, however. He almost seems to relax. As though Ben’s words really were the reassurance they need.
“I dunno, Ben. It’s pretty scary.” Klaus whispers with his usual playful tone. “Sure you can handle it?”
“It can’t possibly be scarier than me.” Ben gives a cocky grin, something he so rarely does. “You know they call me ‘The Horror’ for a reason, right?” He smirks, and Klaus lets out a soft laugh. Maybe he finds Ben’s joke funny, maybe he finds the idea that Ben could scare off whatever it is that has him so nervous amusing. Ben doesn’t know and he doesn’t care. Right now, he really and truly just wants his brother to get some sleep.
“Hm.” Klaus hums. His eyelids struggle to stay up – Ben wonders when exactly the last time he slept willingly was – and his face seems to droop at the idea of sleep. It breaks Ben’s heart, to see his brother like this. He can’t think of any other ways to convince Klaus into sleeping, but he still can’t be sure that this will work. He opens his mouth, about to give further prompting, when Klaus’ eyes finally drop all the way shut and his brother mutters, almost under his breath.
“Fine fine. You better keep up your end of the bargain though, Benny boy.”
Ben feels his entire face practically light up. He nods enthusiastically, certain that Klaus can tell. He shifts, pulling his taller and lankier brother into his arms – though it’s a bit of a struggle, ensuring that Klaus’ toes don’t hang off the bed. Normally it would be the other way around. Klaus trying to cover up the fact that he was the one seeking comfort by pulling Ben into a hug and running fingers through his short black hair. Now, now that Ben has finally gotten Klaus to at least somewhat admit that he needs rest. That he needs help. Ben can get him to drop the cover. Klaus settles into Ben’s arms comfortably. Ben’s fingers run through Klaus’ hair, the same way that Klaus does to him. Even if he’s never tried, maybe it will help calm his trembling brother’s nerves.
It seems to work, as moments after the final words have passed between them, Klaus’ breathing finally evens out. His body seems to finally relax. His facial features drop into those characteristic of sleep, and Klaus stops responding to Ben’s quiet whispers. It’s a relief. Such a relief that Ben lets out a small sigh, and finally drops his own tension. Relaxes. Feels his brother’s chest rising and falling against him, and hopes that, for once, Klaus can actually get some rest.