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One thing Ben didn’t miss about being alive was being dirty. Not that he was a clean freak by any stretch of the imagination. Dirt was all well and good. He just was quite glad to be rid of the weekly showers of blood, tendons, fat, muscle, skin, and organ tissue that would be dried in his hair, stuffed under his nails, staining his hands no matter how many baths he took. He had grown accustomed to that though, as well as the next days spent kneeling next to a toilet puking out his insides. He even got used to the dull ache of having his stomach ripped open. It was all more annoying than anything when he was alive so now dead, these memories served as a reminder that being a ghost was... not all bad.
But every year like clockwork, the memories took a somewhat different turn when he started dwelling on the day he died. It’s one thing to watch a bunch of people get violently murdered but to watch your own body get ripped apart? Feel your ribs shake and skin tear, the pain of the open portal turning from that dull ache to a fire was burning you up from the inside? Now that’s what kept him up at night. He hated reliving the memory of when his body couldn’t take it anymore or the moment when he knew it was too late when the pain reached a fever pitch before suddenly disappearing.
But the worst part was what came after he died: dissolving into nothingness. That’s what was haunting him ten years later, as he lay with his back on the coffee table in Klaus’ new apartment. He was staring up at the ceiling fan, contemplating the cobwebs that blew in the breeze in an attempt to distract himself from thinking about his death.
“You seem awfully down today,” Klaus said, swaying gently to the dulcet tones of Nat King Cole on the radio, champagne glass in hand.
Ben thought about the spider that was in those cobwebs once, working hard spinning them, catching little bugs, having babies… and now the webs are empty, nothing but a memory of a life that once lived. Maybe the spider lived to a ripe old age and died naturally, legs curled up getting dusty somewhere. Or perhaps it was violently smashed, pieces of its own guts pasted on the outside of its flattened corpse–
“Well now Benny boy, don’t be a stranger.” Klaus sat on the couch in front of him, taking a sip. “I know something’s bothering you. You haven’t touched that new book all day.”
Ben let his hand drop to his side and closed his eyes. “Death day,” he sighed.
“Ah, right. The annual uh…crisis.” And Klaus fell silent.
Ben inhaled slowly, trying to steady his nerves. His “nerves” that didn’t exist. His actual nerves were buried six feet underground by the Academy, probably rotted by now, and yet he still had the same anxious physiological reactions as when he was alive. Of fucking course he did. He could never be without his handy dandy anxiety, could he? That’s exactly what he missed about life: the churning of the stomach, the clammy hands, the tightening throat. Sooo grateful he didn’t have to go without that in death.
“So, what’s the deal with this existential crisis you have every year, huh? It seems to be a common thing with all ghosts,” Klaus asked, breaking Ben’s spiraling thoughts.
Ben rolled his head over and opened one eye to look at Klaus, who was staring at him intently. Huh, he actually wants to listen.
“Every year on the anniversary of the day I died, it just really hits me that uh...I’m dead,” Ben said. “I just keep reliving the memory and I also can’t stop thinking about how I don’t exist.”
He noticed his breathing quicken so he continued talking. “I also just feel really anxious and it’s the strangest thing because I feel like my heart is racing and my palms are sweating and stomach is churning but like…I know I have no heart or hands or stomach anymore so I don’t know why it’s happening and I just really hate it. A lot.” The words tumbled out of him before he could stop them, ending in an unsatisfied sigh. He looked back at Klaus, who was leaning forward, chin on his hands.
“Sounds bad,” he nodded thoughtfully, but stayed silent, pursing his lips awkwardly. Klaus was never a natural advice giver even when he wanted to be. Ben thought he rather enjoyed his role of being an example of what not to do.
“You know what! I have a great idea.” Klaus jumped off the couch, putting the glass over on a small bookshelf. “Let’s dance.”
Ben slowly turned his head to look at his brother leaning down to fiddle with the radio. “Okay, you’ve had a lot of bad ideas but this one is definitely one of the worst.”
Klaus gasped. “Bad ideas? I have never –“ He snorted, seeing Ben’s pointed glare, and waved his hand dismissively. “This is a great idea. You know why? I’ll tell you why. Dancing will distract you from thoughts of being dead.”
Ben stayed unmoved.
“Bennnnuh, you never let yourself look ridiculous, c’mon live a little!” Klaus grimaced. “Okay, poor choice of words.” He stopped flipping between stations and stood back with a satisfied smile. “Now, there’s no way you’re not going to get up and dance to this.” The beginning notes of some 80s song Ben didn’t know started playing. Klaus started swaying his hips from side to side to the beat, humming along with the tune.
Ben stared at him. “You’re either ahead of your time or the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.”
Klaus stuck his tongue out at him. “Well, I’m better than you because at least I dance instead of just lying there.”
“Fair is fair,” Ben shrugged and looked back up at the ceiling. The cobwebs brought back the image of a spider being crushed under a boot.
Klaus stopped dancing immediately. “No more clever retorts?” He walked over to the table and crouched by Ben. “I’m worried about you buddy...pal…my favorite brother….”
Ben looked at his own hands clasped together, waiting... waiting for them to dissolve into nothingness like they had ten years ago. “How come you always want me to leave unless I actually want to be left alone?”
“Well! Now you know how that feels,” Klaus laughed uneasily. “I just wish I could help you more, you know? It’s supposed to be such a celebratory day because of my new place. Your bummer mood is bringing me– us down!” But he got the hint and stood up and left, grabbing his empty glass on the way out.
Ben clenched his jaw and looked back at the ceiling, silently cursing his brother. Klaus was a pain in the neck, selfish prick who only went as far as to listen to him for two seconds just so he could have a better time. Hedonistic asshole. Doesn’t give a shit about anything Ben ever went through and how much it sucks to be dead. Thinks he knows soooo much about death and the afterlife, but he knows nothing. Nothing... nothing...
The world started to spin and Ben shut his eyes only to have the after-death memory come back. The feeling of weightlessness of the most unpleasant kind, falling up and down at the same time.
He remembered clasping his hands and feeling nothing. Rubbing the tips of his fingers together and then watching them disappear, along with his body under them. Then his hearing went, first a loud ringing as if he’d hit his head but then the deafening silence. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pop his ears but to no avail. His ears weren’t there. He tried to open his eyes, but they didn’t exist anymore.
But then there was something calling him...the light.
“Come. Come here.”
There it was. Too bright, too calming...he just couldn’t go. He knew if he touched it, he would cease to exist and he just wasn’t ready for that. He still wanted to see things and do things and talk to people and live a life. It wasn’t fair that he had to stop all that. But did he have a choice?
“Ben...go to the light, go to the light, go to the light, go to the light…”
Every fiber of his soul was screaming no. Some fear had grabbed a hold of him and was not letting go.
Wait! Maybe, just maybe, if he could make it back on earth… he could find Klaus.
So Ben turned away from the light and tried to imagine the world again. He fought back against the nothingness all around him, the nonexistence of death. It was like running in a dream where every little step took a huge effort. Like walking in quicksand. He didn’t know if he was getting anywhere or if this was going to be his eternity, but he kept trying to run away from it all.
Klaus Klaus Klaus Klaus he had to find Klaus.
Where was Klaus? WHERE ARE YOU KLAUS?
He screamed and screamed and screamed from a mouth that wasn’t there.
“Ben?”
Ben jolted out of his panicked stupor. “What?”
He opened his eyes to see his brother standing over him and the sight was almost as big of a relief as it was 10 years ago when he had been conjured. Ben swallowed, trying to get the lump in his throat to go away. Death was fucking terrifying.
“Come.” Klaus offered both his hands, as if Ben could grab them. “Ben. Come onnn! I’m not going to let you spiral about being dead on a night like tonight!”
“What’s so special about tonight?” Ben glowered at him but stood up and attempted to put his shaking hands in Klaus’, but they only fell through them. “Great idea,” he snapped and went to sit back down to get his breath steady again.
“Wait wait wait, Ben. Don’t sit down yet.” Klaus' eyes were wide and desperate, as he tried to grab Ben’s hand. He finally settled on just gripping the air where they were. “Look, Ben. You help me a lot when I’m going through all kinds of shit, even when I don’t want you to. And I'm in such a good mood now, why not return the favor?”
“Fine,” Ben said, folding his arms. He was quite touched but he wasn’t going to tell Klaus that. “So. How can you help me when you can’t even comprehend what I’ve been through?”
Klaus laughed. “The hardest thing you did was tylenol, Ben, and how many overdoses and withdrawal induced hallucinations have you gotten me through? Besides, I have ghosts following me around wherever I go, I think I have some authority on death.”
Dammit, he’s right. For once.
“So here’s what I think we should–” Suddenly Klaus stopped talking, his eyes wide. “Yes... yes this is exactly what we should do!” He ran over to the radio to turn it up.
“Ben… It’s our lord and savior Dolly…singing 9 to 5. ” He started rocking his shoulders back and forth to the music. “We must dance to pay our respects.” He put his hands together and bowed low before getting up and singing. If one could even call what he was doing “singing”. It was rather an offkey mumbling hyperventilating mess that Ben couldn’t help but laugh which only egged Klaus on. He extended his hand out to Ben, beckoning him to dance with him.
Ben groaned at the idiot of a brother he had in front of him. Pretty drunk, pretty annoying, pretty self absorbed but occasionally… a good friend. And Klaus was also the only reason why Ben was still here and even wanted to still be here. He could feel the worries that plagued him just seconds ago start to disappear at the comical sight in front of him. So, he reluctantly swayed his hips to the beat.
“There ya go!” Klaus shouted. Okay, so maybe Klaus had been right all along. By the chorus, any fears that Ben had been having about death and not having a body were gone, replaced with fears about his ghost vocal cords being shattered by tomorrow. He was pretty sure even his ghost muscles would ache with all the flailing around he was doing, if that was even possible.
“Do I look ridiculous?” he asked once while doing the sprinkler.
“Oh Ben,” Klaus laughed, coming over to stare him straight in his eyes. “You’ve never looked more ridiculous in your entire afterlife.”
“Good,” Ben said. “Because I was imitating you.”
Klaus glared at him. “If I could shove you, I would. Consider yourself, ghost-shoved.”
And for some reason in the moment Ben tripped on nothing and fell. “Did you do that?” But Klaus didn’t hear him because he was laughing so hard.
When the song ended, Ben’s worries started to creep back again but remained only slight preoccupations, easily remedied by dancing idiotically to whatever was on the radio. Amazing, a new coping strategy after death. Yes, Klaus was right for once in his life but was Ben ever going to tell him? Of course not! Klaus would never let it drop. No, Ben would just show his appreciation by dancing more and more ridiculously to make Klaus regret he ever suggested it. Ben couldn’t wait.