Chapter Text
The ghosts were so goddamn loud.
They usually were, but today for whatever reason they seemed to think screaming was the only way they could communicate.
To say it was insufferable would be the understatement of the century. Klaus had fought through hell and high water his entire life, especially in the past few… years? weeks? ugh fucking time travel, but the screeches of his own personal peanut gallery—that he probably could have been used to by now—were really grinding his gears this morning. They were just getting to be too much again now that he was sober. They were always around now, always seeking a living thing. And that living thing was always Klaus. Klaus.
Klaus.
Klaus, Klaus, Klaus.
Klaus… Klaauuss!
“God, just shut the hell up!” Klaus screeched right back, now pressing his hands to his ears.
He half expected some sort of snark in return, but that was a particular ghost’s job. Ben’s job. And Ben was gone. He finally took the (usually) one way ticket to the wonderful Void Klaus had come to know very well—hopefully far from dear old dad—and Klaus was happy for him. Truly he was, but as soon as it happened the awful feeling of dread had buried itself deep beneath his skin. It quickly spread all throughout his body, making him feel hollow. He knew immediately that the tether connecting him to his brother had just been severed. He was gone, and he was never coming back.
Klaus had never felt more alone.
He never craved the sweet relief only certain substances could give him more than he did now. He’d probably never hear the end of it from his living siblings, but they were always telling him off for something anyway. Or perhaps more likely, they wouldn't even bother dealing with him at all. He was Klaus, after all. And Klaus was more trouble than he was worth.
He figured a cigarette break, somewhere far from the Academy, wouldn’t hurt right? He just really needed some warm spring air to chase away the chills he almost always had, and he needed to be away from people; living or otherwise.
Pulling on his old familiar patchwork coat, Klaus stepped out the side door into one of their alleyways. He was less likely to be caught going this way. It was the only blind spot around the whole Academy. There were no windows. Five’s fire escape was all the way on the other side. There was no way he could be seen.
Klaus made his way down the alley, toward the back of the Academy, and turned left to head to the only park he knew of. It was rickety and grimy, despite it rarely ever being used, but it served its purpose well enough. Sure, local parents no longer let their kids go anywhere near any of its equipment, but plenty of teens and adults found it to be the most luxurious place in the whole neighborhood. It almost became a club of misfits of sorts. Klaus reckoned it would have been a regular hang out spot for him and his siblings if they were ever allowed such a treat.
Once he arrives he takes a seat on an old creaky swing, and waits for it to settle beneath the added weight. Which wasn’t much from him, but the old thing was starting to crumble.
He pushes off the ground with his foot, only once before allowing gravity to take over. The swing groans as the whole swing set rattles, but thankfully the chains don’t snap. They’re rusty and feel rough against his hands, but he's felt worse textures. He lets go of one chain to pull a cigarette and lighter out from his coat pocket. He then places the cig between his lips to light it, inhaling lightly as he does so. He watches the tiny embers turn a bright red then carelessly flicks the lighter to the ground in front of him. There’s a small clunk as it hits a rock. Klaus tries to pretend that it didn’t startle him in the slightest. It really did though. He was so on edge. Despite being freezing cold Klaus felt like his whole body was set ablaze. Every system was fried, like overwhelmed servers. Klaus wasn’t even sure how he was still functioning. Maybe it had something to do with the whole superhuman thing. He didn’t really feel super in any way though. Never really did.
Klaus took a long drag, holding the smoke as long as he possibly could. He released it moments later with a small cough, and watched it dissipate into the early morning haze. It looked almost ghost-like itself, if ghosts really were what most people imagined. Where did they get those ideas from anyway? Hollywood’s portrayal of them was so bizarre. There were so little films that actually got it right. “Frágiles” was close to accurate. But that one movie his own sister had starred in, funnily enough, was so cheesy. “The Hat Man.” Sure, ghosts were totally shadow figures with funny little hats. What a joke. Klaus wished that’s all they were. Allison must have accepted the role knowing he would hate it. She was petty like that.
God, Klaus wished Ben was here to bounce his thoughts off of. And speaking of God, Klaus hoped the little bike riding she-devil—pun absolutely intended—was treating his brother well. There was no way she was forcing him to talk to Reggie, or threatening to kick him out right? Ben was the best Hargreeves there was. No way he was having a bad time. No, he was reading his favorite books, finding new ones he would soon love, and being treated to endless coffee and homemade waffles. He was at peace. And whenever Klaus—or maybe God—decided it was finally his time to stay, they’d get to be together again. And surely Dave would be there for him too. Then eventually the rest of his siblings would show up, and they’d all be happy. Maybe even functional for once. Wouldn’t that be something? Five would probably get along well with the Little Girl too, Klaus thinks. Or they’d attempt to strangle each other. There was no in-between.
It was strange as hell to think about but Five really was a lot like God. Neither of them looked their true age, and they were both so unnecessarily hostile. He didn’t know if he’d actually be able to handle having two Fives around. Still, it’d be nice for them to all be together like that. A family reunion that couldn’t end in bloodshed. An absolute dream.
Briefly, Klaus wondered if a sibling suicide pact would be asking too much.
Jesus, his thoughts were getting particularly morbid today. Like that would ever go over well. Even if they did agree, knowing his luck, he'd probably have trouble staying again. God would probably kick him out herself just like the first time, just to spite him. Then Klaus would truly be alone, with only the dead to keep him occupied. A nightmare.
“No thanks.” Klaus muttered as he took one final puff from his cigarette. He tosses it to the ground before stamping it out with his boot.
A sudden loud groan of rusty hinges and metal scraping against concrete pulls Klaus out of his head. He thought nothing of it but then there were voices. Voices that belonged to real, living humans. There was no mistaking it, not with Klaus.
Klaus looked up to see a few faces he might have known once upon a time. They were aged, but familiar. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on who exactly they were. He met a lot of people during his time on the streets. Some were friendly, most only pretending to be. Klaus desperately hoped they were some of the genuine ones.
“Holy shit, ghost kid?”
God, he really did not miss that stupid nickname. Well, now he remembered who these people were. They were serpents. All kind looking smiles, and sickeningly sweet words, just to lull you into a false sense of security. Then they bare their fangs, and they bite. Hard. Worse than vampires, Klaus thinks. If they existed they would just be doing what it takes to survive. These people were just assholes for the fun of it.
Klaus reaches for his—Dave’s—dog tags, seeking some sort of comfort. He clasps them as hard as he can. He focuses on the cool metal digging into his palms, and he breathes.
“Yeah, that’s definitely him,” One of them says, probably thinking Klaus can’t hear them. “Fuckin' wild. Never thought I’d see him again. Honestly thought he was dead.”
They snort out a disgustingly familiar laugh, and Klaus vaguely remembers their name being Maybe. What a name that was. Like he could talk. He and his siblings were initially named after numbers. And despite getting actual names at some point, his oldest brother still went by Five. It kind of just became his actual name as time went on. They all thought it suited him, but it was undeniably strange to outsiders. Though so was Maybe. And their personality matched it well.
“Hey, ghost kid!” The first to speak called out again. Alan? Alex? Didn’t matter. “What’s a matter? You go deaf or something?”
“No, just mourning the brief moments of bliss I had before you showed up.” Klaus quipped back, smiling sweetly.
The group of three cackled simultaneously, slowly inching closer like the serpents they were. Ben wasn’t here to keep him sane. This was going to suck.
“That’s cute, Klaus,” Maybe said. “But there’s no way you didn’t miss us.”
He did not miss them at all. He missed his darling Dave. He missed his brother Ben. He even missed his other siblings, and they were all alive at home. Some of them were probably waking up by now, if they even slept at all. Five probably stayed up scrawling equations all over his wall and telling a Dolores that was no longer there all about their escapades through time. Diego probably had a fitful yet relatively decent sleep. Same for Allison and Vanya, probably. And who even knew about Luther. His sleep pattern was all over the place. Living on the moon for so long really screwed with his perception of earth time. He’ll probably down the rest of whatever coffee Five has leftover straight from the pot.
“Hello? Earth to Klaus?”
“Almost forgot how easy it was to lose him sometimes.”
“Makes you wonder why Luther’s the one they call Spaceboy.”
Spaceboy. Luther. That caught Klaus’s attention. What were these clowns saying about his family?
“Ah, Spaceboy,” Klaus says almost wistfully. “Good ol’ Number One. Good thing you guys never met him. He’d pop you like a grape.”
Klaus demonstrates what that might look like with his fingers, and a comically loud mouth pop. Nobody’s amused.
“Yeah, he probably could,” Alan-Alex scoffed. “Don’t really see why he would though. Haven't done anything to the guy.”
Klaus can’t help it. He laughs. He just laughs and laughs and laughs. He’s close to full on hysterics, he can hardly breathe. Sure, they've never done anything to Luther, but they're so far from innocent. These people truly don’t understand that they’re the same kind of bad guys The Umbrella Academy used to go after. Luther would absolutely go all Hulk Smashy on them if he knew about all of the terrible things they’ve done.
All of the terrible things they’ve done to me specifically, his brain adds unhelpfully. It's like Ben was still there, trying to get him to care about himself. The bastard infiltrated his conscience. He hated it. Still, he just laughs and laughs.
“You always were a funny one…” Klaus trails off, unable to decide on which name is right. He waves a dismissive GOODBYE at him as he continues. “Anywho, it’s been a real treat running into you fellas, but I got places to be. People to annoy. You know how it is.”
Klaus moves to stand up, but one of them shoves him. He slumps back down onto the swing, and cringes at the resulting creak. It’s louder now, threatening to drop him to the ground. Klaus looks up to see it’s the quiet one that almost sent him plummeting. Storm, or something like that. Ironic.
“Come on, man. Hang out for a bit. We gotta catch up.”
Klaus doesn’t know who’s speaking anymore. Probably Alan-Alex. Maybe, well, Maybe. Definitely not Storm. All he knows is he needs to get out of here now. Nothing good ever came out of hanging around this group.
“Yeah, I'm gonna have to take a rain check on that. Obligatory family meals, ya know.” Klaus started to explain, hoping it’d be enough to satisfy them. “Still a thing. Just a lot more fun now that papa’s gone. I actually have a betting pool going. See, I think Five’s eventually going to murder Diego over the coffee first. Vanya thinks it’s gonna be me. Allison thinks it might actually be Luther. Fifty bucks on the table. So, I actually don’t wanna miss it.”
Klaus just kept rambling on and on, now hoping to annoy them into letting him go. It usually worked. Mostly just on his siblings though. Everyone else seemed to have the patience of a well respected doctor. Though he was close to pushing Hazel and Cha-Cha over the edge during the first apocalypse-that-wasn’t week—Apocalypsen’t, if you will, he was working on it—if he just kept going, he’d break these goons eventually.
“Jesus, Klaus. You gotta chill out, man. You should take a trip down memory lane with us.”
No. No. No, no, no, no. No. Non. Нет. Nein.
He was not going to break his sobriety again. Especially not with acid of all things. It made him so damn paranoid. More than he already was all the time. And sure it dulled his powers, Ben confirmed at one point, but it didn’t matter because Klaus could still hear the screams. Could almost taste them even. They weren’t actually there of course, but it didn’t matter. Acid was fucking torture.
“Oh, no I couldn’t, really. I’m sober. Honest. And I’m strapped for cash at the mo', wouldn’t wanna just take from your supply.”
The bastards just snickered at him, mocking him. Like he couldn’t possibly be sober. Like he was missing out on some golden opportunity. And he would be if it was anything other than fucking LSD.
No, fuck them. This wasn’t happening.
“Aw, baby. It’s alright. It’s only a microdose. You remember, don’t you?”
The pet name leaves such a rotten taste in his mouth. It’s only now that Klaus remembers just how much older Alan-Alex is than him. How young Klaus had been when they first met. He was taken advantage of, and it wasn’t fair that it was happening to him again in his adulthood by the same fucking person.
“Microdose, my ass!” Klaus snorts, he can’t help it. Alan-fucking-Alex-fucking whatever’s tabs were the highest doses he’d ever taken. That prick wanted him completely unaware of his reality. He was deliberately drugging him. Maybe even trying to kill him. “Like I said, always the funny one.”
“Stormy,” Alan-Alex lilts, straight up ignoring Klaus now. Rude. “Why don’t you hold him down for me? It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to play with this one.”
Storm doesn’t hesitate. He grabs Klaus’s arms and squeezes, effectively restraining him. His hands are ice cold, ghost-like. And suddenly he’s back there. His back slams hard against the stone wall as he tries to shrink into the corner, and the ghosts wail and shriek, and they touch him, and…
NO.
Those hands belong to a breathing human. He can tell. He can. Right? It was easier with Ben around. Ben was good at grounding him, but he’s gone.
Ben’s gone. Klaus is thirteen years old again, crying and pleading for his father to just let him out, please.
“Guys, really, maybe we shouldn’t,”
Well, that was different. Dad would never say something like that. Pogo had never even said something like that, never tried to stop dad from locking his own child in a goddamn mausoleum.
“Shut it, Maybe. Or you’ll be next.”
Maybe? Oh. Oh. Maybe. Right. He wasn’t in the mausoleum. He was somewhere arguably much worse. He almost wishes he actually was back there again. Anything over this. Please, God.
“Alex, please.”
Alex. Not Alan. Right. Well, how wonderful it is that he’ll probably be able to remember the name of his abuser this time!
Maybe continues begging Alex to stop, which is weird, but it’s useless anyway. Alex is already forcing a tab of acid under his tongue. Just like he did so many years ago. Fifteen years ago to be exact. He was so young, it wasn’t fucking fair.
Alex’s hands are gripping his throat now while Storm’s grip on his arms loosens. All sounds fade away as thumbs press into his jugular. His vision gets spotty for a second. Suddenly it’s just him and Alex. Alex’s breath is hot on his face, too close to his mouth. His mouth that’s now holding a rapidly dissolving acid tab. He can’t fucking breathe.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Alex soothes. “Just let go.”
The tab’s gone now, and it leaves a literal bitter taste in his mouth, but it shouldn’t. Acid isn’t supposed to taste like anything. He didn’t give him LSD.
Klaus doesn’t have time to question him, his mouth is crashing against his own mingling hot breath with bitter copper. Bitter. Goddamn fake ass acid imitations.
Alex moves down his neck, leaving bruising kisses in his wake. It’s hot, too hot against his freezing skin. It fucking stings. Like ice and salt over an open wound.
Klaus can’t take it anymore. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, and pulls. He pulls on the thrum of energy coursing deep within him until it surfaces, and pools down into his hands. His hands glow a bright beautiful blue.
It takes another minute or so but behind him he feels the—welcome for once—familiar chill of unknown spirits; conjured, materialized. Corporeal.
"What the fuck,"
They rush forward, unafraid, and pry Alex away. He screams in agony for what feels like hours. Then, silence.
Klaus opens his eyes, which he didn't even realize were closed. He’s surprised to find nothing. Absolutely nothing. Everyone’s gone. Not just Alex. Maybe, Storm, even the ghosts are nowhere to be found. The park is just as it was when he first arrived. Empty. Blissfully empty.
The peace doesn’t last long though. The high hits him like a fucking freight train. It's the only proof he has that all of that bullshit actually just happened. It's proof he very much could have gone without.
His entire body goes numb. There’s a dull hum ringing in his ears, it steadily increases in volume, rises to a crescendo. It’s like a plane flying laps around his head, he’s dizzy now. He stumbles off the swing and watches as the ground warps into different shapes and colors. He can’t navigate the new world building around him so he slows to a stop. He looks forward. Everything looks normal for a while, but then one by one things start to change.
The letters on the street signs are wiggling.
The front of a parked car looks more like a face.
The streetlight beside it flickers once then gradually starts to dim. He has no idea if it’s actually happening or not.
He thinks he gets his answer when the sun doesn’t seem to rise anymore. The warm glow of dawn slowly fades, enveloping him in darkness. He closes his eyes. When he reopens them the world he knows is back. The only difference is the luminescent fractals dancing along the distant skyline. He thinks they’re clouds, but it doesn’t matter. They’re mesmerizing. He stares, watches as they fade in and out of existence until suddenly a loud honk startles him out of the trance. Car horn, or goose he doesn’t know. He doesn’t think it’s anything to worry about until it happens again. This time he tries to find the direction it’s coming from, but it sounded like it was in all directions. It even sounded like it was coming from inside him.
Was his heart replaced by a fucking horn? God, he couldn’t breathe. His clothes were too tight. They felt like a snake, curled around his torso, constricting him until his heart—maybe horn—gave out. What if it actually was a snake? He wasn’t able to check, the world went dark again. He had to try to get it off anyway. He tried to grab it as he thrashed around blindly, but then something else was grabbing him. They were prying his hands away. Maybe they were going to help, but if they weren’t he was going to die. He couldn’t let that happen. He screamed, unsure if any sound was actually coming out. He couldn’t hear his own voice. Were his vocal cords taken too? Replaced by something else? He tried to grab his neck so he could try to feel if anything was different but something was keeping him still. Right, something else had grabbed him. That something else felt human. Which wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Humans did so much damage. He would know, he and his siblings were the literal poster children of death and destruction. This stranger could do unspeakable things to him if they really wanted to. He had to get away.
Klaus dug his nails into the human, trying to free himself but it was no use. The human was strong. Not as strong as Luther, but strong enough to restrain him still. Wait. Luther. Where’s Luther? Luther could help him. He just had to find him. He tries his voice again. He tries to call for Luther. He doesn’t think anything comes out. But then there were other noises. They’re not coming from him, he doesn’t think. They sound vaguely like different voices but whatever they're saying is all word salad, tossed by a shitty chef.
“Kite,” he thinks he hears, followed by, “Ben was the only one. What about me? On the moon. Children.”
That didn’t make any fucking sense. And how did this human know about Ben? How dare they put his name in their mouth? Only his family should be allowed to talk about him.
Wait.
Wait. His family. Maybe that’s who was talking. Maybe they were looking for him. Klaus’s eyes flew open all on their own—he again had no idea they were closed in the first place—and he realized it hadn’t gone dark again. The sun was still there, still rising. A real human person was standing in front of him. They were holding his hands against their chest. They felt like jello. And their face looked familiar, but their features kept shifting into something foreign. The specks of colors in their irises were swimming, and their mouth twisted into an unnatural smile. It was terrifying. Klaus knowingly closes his eyes this time, trying to block it out. Maybe this person wasn’t human after all. Maybe they were a ghost, or an alien.
He hears words again. It’s salad. Vomit. Nonsense.
“Car. Weirder. Pupils. Infirmary. Comes down. Headphones.”
There were new noises now. The noises sounded like music this time, but it was inside his head. How did it get inside his head? It needed to get out, this wasn’t right.
Klaus feels the grip of the human-maybe ghost alien-loosen so he takes the opportunity to smack his own head. The grip comes back fast this time around his wrist. His hand is being pulled away from his head, that wasn’t good. He needed to get the chip out, or whatever it was. He wasn’t safe.
More words are said, still jumbled but slightly easier to understand.
“Need to stop. Hurt yourself."
He thinks he understands. He’s hurting himself. But he needs to. How else will he be able to save himself? He tries again. There’s resistance. The grip is stronger. Different. More words.
“Back off. Monkey. Freak him out."
He doesn’t understand this time. He ignores it. He also gives up on trying to get the chip out. Maybe Five can help him later. Five was good at dealing with this kind of thing. Five. Five. Klaus misses Five.
“Five’s right.”
That voice knew Five. Who did the voice belong to? The human-ghost alien? How did they know Five?
“Hey. Okay. Here. Home.”
The voice was different. It sounded like…. It sounded like someone he knew.
Klaus’s head is turned to see Five staring into his soul. He didn’t know it was so visible. He examines Five’s face carefully. He can taste his anger. There's hints of disappointment, and some concern as well. He doesn’t like it. It’s suffocating.
“Bottle. Diego. Drink.”
Something’s being put in his hands, it’s cold and some sort of liquid sloshes around inside it. It smells musty, like the mausoleum. He doesn’t want anything to do with it. But wait. The new voice said Diego. Five’s voice said Diego. His family was here. Or at least it seemed like they were. He wants to think that this is real. That his family noticed his absence, that they came to look for him.
The cold thing is taken away, and he’s relieved for a moment. He’s instantly filled with fear when the musty smell gets stronger. There’s a human-like grip on his chin then his mouth is opened and the mysterious cold liquid courses through him. He’s reminded of acid being shoved under his tongue, chapped lips crushing his. He’s reminded of his brother forcefully entering his body, possessing him, taking control. His choice was being taken away again. He didn’t even get to consider giving consent. He shivers, and attempts to shove the offending object away. It floats away and flicks the liquid onto his face. He sputters, more liquid coming out of his body. The voices start again.
“Enough. Now. Home. Carry. No. I got him. Five. Bring us. Car later. Important.”
Suddenly, gravity is betraying him. The earth is falling away from him, abandoning him. He’s drifting aimlessly. He wonders if this is how Luther felt on the moon. Luther. Was Luther there too? He couldn’t remember. He doesn’t know how but he lands against something scratchy yet soft. It’s strange but it feels familiar. He notices there’s another grip, it’s somewhere else this time. Under his knees. There’s a pressure against his back too. He still feels floaty but tethered this time. There’s a safety net to fall back on.
He’s okay. He feels safe. He lets his guard down.
A blinding flash of light paints his eyelids blue, and then the world goes dark again.
The sun doesn’t come back this time.