Chapter Text
The cold was all there really was, here. The cold and the grey, seeping into every part of him until there was nothing else. Maybe there never had been anything else. Maybe he’d always been hollow and cold and alone. Maybe it was all just a part of him and he was supposed to ache like this.
Sometimes, there were others in the grey, but their presence was always fleeting. Probably for the best, they weren’t much on small talk. In the end, he was always alone again, the silence overwhelming as the grey pressed in around him and he’d lose himself to it again. In those times, he thought he could understand why they screamed. Sometimes he wanted to as well.
But that was why he was here.
He used to wander too, until he found this place. When he was very lucky, something would slip through the grey, here; flashes of color, the sound of footsteps, laughter, familiar prayers and words spoken in Hebrew. It was comforting. He couldn’t say why, and he didn’t know when he’d first heard it, but it helped. He’d hold onto it long after the grey had taken him again, and it would make him long for something he didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. But it let him distinguish himself from the grey and, for some reason, he wanted that.
It felt like he was waiting, but for what, he didn’t know. The next break in the grey, perhaps? He hoped it was something else. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, but eventually the answer came in the form of someone falling through a window. It wasn’t a whisper or snatches of a distant conversation; he could hear it more clearly than anything he had before and he couldn’t help but listen even if he struggled to truly comprehend.
“You’ve broken into some weird places before,” a voice said, clearly frustrated. “But a synagogue?”
“I don’t know,” another voice hissed in a harsh whisper. “Okay? I don’t know, I just feel like I need to check it out.”
“This is stupid, you’re gonna get arrested.”
“Not if you shut your face already!”
“I’m not the one they can hear.”
“But you’re distracting me, which is just making this take longer.”
The voices came to a sudden halt, and when one of them spoke again, his voice was breaking.
“Dave?” A pause, before he could sense him dropping to his knees in front of him, voice urgent and desperate. “Dave, can you hear me?”
He could feel him this close, like a warm breeze, like a memory that he wanted to be real. Then he remembered that he had eyes he could open, and a head he could raise, and when he looked, he heard the breath catch in the stranger’s throat.
“Dave,” he repeated, before rubbing viciously at his eyes as they welled up with tears, frustrated. “Shit.”
It wasn’t right. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want this person to be sad. He reached a hand out, and the stranger froze, as if he was holding his breath, waiting. When he didn’t pull away, he continued, carefully wiping a tear away.
As soon as he touched him, the grey retreated from around them and he remembered. Maybe not everything, and it all still felt so fragile and far away, like a dream that was already beginning to slip away after waking, but he held onto it with everything he had. It was enough for now because it was Klaus , he was here in front of him and, now that he remembered, he ached with how much he’d missed him.
“Klaus,” he said, and the name felt so right on his tongue, as if he was always meant to say it. He didn’t know how he’d forgotten.
Klaus’ hand flew up to his mouth as he tried to stop the strangled sound he made. But then, he seemed to decide he didn’t care after all, and threw himself forward. Dave barely managed to catch him, his movements too sluggish and slow, but he held him close. Klaus’ grip was tight, like he thought he might slip away at any moment, but Dave didn’t mind. He felt so warm in those arms. He hadn’t felt warm in a long time.
“I missed you,” Klaus whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Dave said, burying a hand in his hair, cradling the back of his head. “I think I got lost.”
“No,” Klaus said, wrenching himself away to see his face, foreheads resting together. “It’s not your fault. Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”
Dave still felt dazed as Klaus helped him to his feet, following with no idea where he was going and without the words to ask. He saw another from the grey, watching them, but Klaus didn’t seem bothered, so he wasn’t either. He was vaguely aware of streetlights and doors and hallways, and then Klaus was collapsing into a bed, pulling him down with him.
Leaning over him like this, he couldn’t help but cup Klaus’ cheek, stroking his thumb across his skin, wiping away the smudged eyeliner. His hair might have been a little longer, and somehow he looked even more tired, but he still looked exactly the way Dave remembered. He wanted to study his face, memorize every new wrinkle, everything. As he laid down beside him, they curled against each other, Klaus burying his face in Dave’s shoulder as he held him tightly, like he planned to never let him go. Dave ran his fingers through his hair and kissed the top of his head.
But then, suddenly Klaus was falling through him. Dave sat up in alarm, but as soon as Klaus recovered from the surprise, he crumpled, curling in on himself as a heart wrenching sob escaped him. Horrified, Dave tried to reach out, to comfort him, but his hands just phased right through.
This was it, the cruel reminder that he was dead. He was dead and any contact he might have with Klaus would be at his expense, forcing him to use abilities he hated until he was too exhausted to continue. It was too cruel, and Dave couldn’t even hold him when grief won out. And Klaus couldn’t do the same for him.
All Dave could do was stay close, whisper whatever comfort he could offer, fingers ghosting over him, desperately wanting to just brush away a tear, or smooth his hair back out of his face. But he couldn’t. All he could do was let the tears run their course in both of them.