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Klaus can only wait outside the medic tent for so long.
He should be relieved, really. In any other reality, he’d stand right at the entrance with bated breath until dawn, kept alert with the elation that Dave was actually alive. But despite that miraculous fact, he can’t help but feel anxious. Confused. Almost unsure of where exactly he is. He needs to get out of his head. He draws a cigarette, tries not to pay mind to how many attempts it takes his shaking hands to light it, and takes a short walk to the outskirts of the camp.
He’s out there for a half hour or so, kicking sticks around, listening to the whistle of wind through the trees over the muffled yelling and laughter far behind him. The kind of lantern-lit conversations that many of the men found oddly healing after a day as gruesome as this one was. Whatever works.
He stamps this last cigarette out with a bit more vigor than the others as a blade of anger cuts through his body. Anger at... the men? The waiting? He’s really not upset by those at all. But why is the tremor coming back to his hands? Why can’t he shake the feeing that something is horribly, inconceivably wrong?
“There you are.”
It’s coming from behind him, and it’s stern. Klaus turns and sees Dave making his way over, thick bandages under his shirt, arm across his chest, a hand gripping loosely against his ribs.
“Dave,” Klaus breathes. He runs up to meet him.
Dave stops and holds his free hand up to him. “What the hell did you do to me?”
Klaus freezes. “What did I... what?”
“Don’t play dumb, you know it’s not gonna work. What did you do to me?”
Dave’s eyes are burning into him.
“Wait, wait,” Klaus feels a nervous smile spreading across his face involuntarily. “When did I do what? What are you talking about?”
Dave throws a glance behind him to ensure their privacy and then steps closer. “Back there. On the hill. Klaus, I know that something happened. Tell me.”
Klaus can practically hear his own pulse pounding in his ears.
“Okay!” Klaus tosses his arms forward. “Okay, fine! I kissed you. Christ,” he sighs, “Sue me, Katz. I thought I was gonna lose you. I’m pretty sure the guys were too occupied in trying-not-to-die to even notice.”
“It wasn’t that.”
Klaus’s next breath comes out shaky. He knew it wasn’t that. He has a vague idea of what Dave is talking about but... he’s not sure he understands the details of it either.
He wasn’t sure what told him to do it. He remembers screaming in desperation on the battlefield, and then he remembers an Instinct. Something deep in his chest. A vague promise of a happier ending. And Klaus was never one to deny a ridiculous impulse.
He’d held his hands against Dave’s chest and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. Something simple and controlled, with a certain will behind it that was the closest Klaus had ever gotten to prayer.
And then he’d seen flecks of light. He couldn’t say for sure that the amber glow wasn’t just dying sunlight trickling down through the jungle canopy, but it almost looked as if it was drifting down Dave’s face like golden tears. Dave’s breathing had gone back to normal soon after, just in time for the medic to swoop in and usher him away.
“Klaus.” Dave’s voice brings him back to the present. And strangely, he’s starting to sound frightened now. “I want answers.”
“I don’t know.” Klaus forces it out, shoulders hiked up in defense. “I mean, I know, yeah, I know. I did some spooky superpower thing. But, shit, I didn’t know it would work. I didn’t even... I didn’t even know what I was doing, okay? I still don’t know what I actually did.”
Dave keeps pushing forward. “I’m hearing things,” He says. “This block of noise keeps washing in and out.” He furrows his brow as he struggles to explain it. “There’s like... voices. All yelling over each other. But I can’t tell what any one of them is saying.”
Klaus snorts. “What the hell is Thompson prescribing these days? A guy can’t get a measly little gunshot wound around here without being handed a fist full of horse tranquilizers?”
“The noise began when the meds started wearing off.”
Klaus’s face grows slack with realization. Oh. Shit.
“It’s not in my head,” Dave rambles on. “They said I was hallucinating. I was crazy...”
“You’re not crazy,” Klaus murmurs.
“...I mean, if it was that, I think I’d recognize the people. But I don’t. And it’s like they want to get to me. Specifically. I don’t know, but it just feels like... like...”
“Like they’re begging you for an answer, but no one will tell you what the goddamn question is,” Klaus offers, in similar phrasing he’d once used to summarize the sensation to Ben.
Dave falls silent. Dumbfounded.
“Yeah?” Klaus prompts.
“Yeah,” Dave answers. “My God. Is that... is that how you hear... Them?”
“Early days, yeah,” Klaus nods. His voice is light and far away as his brain tries to catch up to reality. “Honestly don’t think it got much worse than that ‘til the old man started trying to weaponize it.”
Dave just stares at him.
Then, he starts shaking his head. A worrying, unconscious gesture.
Klaus steps in and reaches to hold his chin. “Dave...”
“Don’t touch me.” Dave jerks away roughly and Klaus flinches back. “Not after you pulled your black magic shit on me.”
“Hey, I saved your life, asshole!”
“Did I ask you to?” Dave shoots back. “Do you want my thanks?"
"What? It's not like--"
"If I’d died up there like I was supposed to, it would’ve been with honor and—“
“Oh, cut the crap, Dave,” Klaus groans. “We’re well past believing in all that.”
“Screw you,” Dave spits.
Klaus knows the case being made isn’t that Ghost Whispering is a fate worse than death. It’s that Dave hates being out of control. Understandably. He knows when to fall in line, to follow orders, to take loss in stride. But this is something a lot more personal.
Dave is seething now, at a loss for words, just glaring with a crackling combination of betrayal and fear.
“I didn’t know,” Klaus says gently. “What would happen, I mean. I’m sorry. It was just this feeling.”
“Okay.” Dave drops his head into his hand and rubs his face. “Feeling?”
“You were already gone,” Klaus says. “All I knew was that this might bring you back to me.”
Dave doesn’t really know how to answer that, but most of his anger seems to have faded away. Only humming anxiety remains. He runs his hand over his eyes and down off his face. “God damn,” he mumbles.
“We’ll figure this out,” Klaus promises. “Maybe we can undo it. Or at least make it easier. I know, it’s a lot more insane sci-fi garbage than you signed up for.” There’s a weak chuckle in his voice that he doesn’t put too much heart into. “But if you decide you’re not too pissed at me, I wanna fix it. ‘Cause Christ knows you’ve helped me enough with it.”
Dave slowly nods. “We’ll figure it out,” He agrees, with not much else to say on the matter.
Klaus takes a soft step closer and Dave all but collapses into his embrace.
Klaus holds him a little tighter and Dave hisses in pain.
“Oh. Oh. Yep. Chest wound. Sorry.” Klaus awkwardly shifts his body accordingly.
“Yeah. Undead, not immortal, idiot.”
Klaus full-on giggles at the break in tension. Dave presses a calmed kiss onto his cheek. A whisper of forgiveness. A little token of trust. They’ll figure it out.