Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"He's going to do it again," Rave growls. "He doesn't care."

"None of them do." Torture hugs itself and laughs. "How long were we gone again? And none of them ever noticed?"

"Can't I make one sandwich without you guys going all revenge-crazy?" Klaus groans. "Ben, could you-"

Ben smacks both ghosts upside the head.

"Thank you. Besides, I used to disappear all the time. They probably didn't even know I was in the house before it happened." He waves his hand dismissively at the ghosts.

"That's worse," Torture spits.

"Not really. At least they know how to give someone person space," he fires back.

"Um." He looks up at Allison in the doorway. "Are you talking to Ben?"

"No," Klaus sighs. "Just some pestering assholes who won't shut up about how they died."

"At least you can ignore them." Allison starts making herself a smoothie. "Must be easier to do when they can't touch you."

"They always assume they have it worse." Rave glares at Allison. "They don't know. They don't care."

"Let me breathe again," a six year old Klaus ghost cries at Allison as she cuts fruit. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, let me breathe again! I wanna breathe again!"

Klaus puts his sandwich down. His appetite is gone.

Ben kneels down and picks up the little ghost, trying to soothe it. The ghost keeps crying, grabbing for Allison desperately.

"We were just a kid," Rave says, watching Ben. "Just a kid..."

"We were all kids," Klaus mutters. "It's not like I'm the only person. Remember all of Viktor's nannies?"

Wrong thing to say. Another appears, three years old, sobbing. The ghostly tears drip off quick, it's neck and head bent at unnatural angles. The nannies appear next, scooping up the child and shushing it as Ben does for the six year old.

Klaus leaves his sandwich behind as he he flees.

"You can't be serious."

Luther keeps holding out the cup. "Look, we might need you to summon Ben again-"

"We're not worth anything to him." Not Rave this time, shockingly. A teen, maybe fifteen at most, glaring at Luther through a dirty domino mask. "He knew we were under that ceiling. He let it crush us anyway."

"I've got Ben keeping me in line, thanks." Klaus taps the cup. "Besides, piss has always been one of the few things on my 'no exceptions' list."

"... What?"

"Nevermind." Klaus tries not to look at the ghosts of... times he'd rather forget. Moreso than others. "Might be a little much for your freshly-popped cherry to handle, big guy." He forces a laugh.

Luther goes bright red at the reminder. Rave seethes and starts screaming in Klaus's ear about how Luther abandoned their body just to get laid.

"-even listening? We can't risk you falling off the wagon-"

"He dragged us into a place full of drugs when we just got sober."

"-and we probably need to start you training again-"

Screams of horror and pain and rage-

"-so just pee in the damn cup-"

"They still don't care. This isn't about helping us. How many times have we OD'd in this place and they didn't notice?"

"I'm not doing drug test!" Klaus snaps. "In case you haven't noticed I actually have a fucking reason for staying sober now! To see someone who cares about me!"

Luther reels back. "I do care about you."

Klaus laughs bitterly, hearing it echoed around him, and he opens his mouth to say more-

He sees Rave grinning.

He snaps his mouth shut. He sighs and rubs his eyes, trying to push out the feeling Luther the ghosts had stirred up. "I know. Sorry, just... forgot to eat today."

He grabs the cup. "Just don't sell it later."

"Why would I-"

"We've still got a few fans, you know. Paid for a hell of a night, I can tell you that."

"Remember how Ben said he walked right by us?" an overdose says with a laugh as he shivers, dripping wet from rain. "Just on his merry way, too busy saving lives to bother with ours."

"He just didn't see you," Ben says, glaring at the ghost.

Diego snaps his fingers in front of Klaus's face to get his attention again. "Did you hear me? I said we're gonna hit the gym together."

Klaus laughs. "The gym? I don't know if you've noticed but-"

"But you put on some bulk in that whole time-travel thing, and it's staying that way." Diego pokes his chest. "Then it's not all bad, right? Gave you something useful."

"DON'T SAY THAT ABOUT DAVE!" 'Nam wails. It grabs for Diego, snarling as it's hands go right through. Klaus claps his hands over ears as it keeps screaming, "DON'T SAY THAT ABOUT DAVE!"

"Hey, what the shit? Come on man, focus on me." Fingers snap in front of Klaus, and it just makes him try more to cut off his senses. "Luther, hey, what was the result of that drug test?! Something's wrong with him!"

"Always something wrong with us," a ten year old ghost moans, pale with blue lips and reeking of the musty scent of the mausoleum. "Why is it always something wrong with us? Why is it our fault?"

"I-I'm not high, Diego!" Klaus snaps, keeping his eyes shut and his hands over his ears. "Cripes, can't a guy have a sensory overload in peace?"

"What's overloading you?"

"Gee, I don't know, maybe the screaming undead!"

"Well how the hell do I help then?!"

"By not yelling more!"

"Will you be able to hear me if I stop?!"

"You're so bad at this!"

"Of course he is, he's never tried," Torture growls.

"Would you shut up!"

"Hey, I'm trying to help your sorry ass!"

"Not you, Diego! But you should shut up too!"

Ben slaps a hand over Torture's mouth, but 'Nam is still wailing about the perceived disrespect to Dave (and Klaus has to remind himself that Diego doesn't know, Diego doesn't know, he didn't mean it because he doesn't know-) and now that kid Klaus with the knife in it's chest is screaming-

"Fuck OFF!" Klaus isn't sure when he got to his feet and shoved Diego, but he's on his feet and Diego is stumbling back and Nam is hissing that Diego deserved it and Torture is laughing in a way Klaus is sure he's never laughed in his life and the kid one is trying to push Diego even more-

Klaus tucks his hands into his underarms and looks away. "Sorry. I just- sorry."

Diego eyes him for a second, and then shakes his head. "Can't help you if you don't want help, Klaus."

"We've never wanted anything more." Torture's former mirth is gone, now just... mournful.

Diego doesn't hear that, though.

So he walks away.

Five grabs Klaus by the ear and pulls him down to eye level while Klaus is busy modelling his first successfully knitted scarf for Ben.

"Hey HEY!" Klaus tries to tug away. "What's got your sweater vest so tight?!"

Five peers into Klaus's eyes. "Your pupil dilation is fine, but you're paler than I've seen you in weeks and you're shaking like I did my first winter in The Apocalypse. What're you on?"

"Again?" Klaus slaps Five's hand. "Why do all my brothers just assume I relapsed? I can't just have a cold?"

"Do you have a cold?"

"Not the point."

"Exactly the point, dipshit." Five pokes his stomach. "You're losing weight, too. All signs point to drug use."

"Or to the food in the house being a bunch of old musty shit."

"Remember when Viktor tried to get off the pills by putting them in our food?" a twelve year old ghost sighs. "I think we threw up less eating dumpster food."

"I know we did," an overdose snickers ruefully. "Little bastard thinks he's the only one who struggled to survive, at least he made it without a reset button."

"You ate army rations in the sixties, I think you can handle some stale peanut butter."

"You don't get to talk about it!" 'Nam swipes for Five's heart. "You don't get to talk about him! You sent us there! YOU MADE US LOSE HIM!"

"I can handle anything, but I don't always want to." Klaus puts his hand right in the center of Five's face and pushes him, just barely, just enough for Five to tilt a little but not even stumble. "Can I finish this in peace? Ben was about to show me in praise for my new scarf."

"It's actually not bad," Ben admits. "I don't get the mixing bright pink with black, though."

"That's because you have no taste." Klaus resolutely ignores Five still being there. "I think next I'll do a rusty orange. Like Dune."

"Dune?" Five scoffs. "When did you read Dune?"

"When did you?"

"You get time to read when the weather's too bad to scavenge, and I got days off sometimes from The Commission. I didn't even know you had the patience to read more than a bottle label."

He doesn't. But Dave would mutter to himself when he read on the bus, and after they'd stopped the world from ending it was some connection left, a thread, a tie...

"Well, someone I knew loved it." Klaus shrugs. "So I gave it a try." Muttering it aloud at night while trying so, so hard to manifest Dave, to find him, hoping it would bring Dave closer like it brought Klaus closer...

Five tilts his head a little. "The same person you love enough to get sober?"

Klaus looks up, and Ben looks at Five in surprise. Because someone is asking to know more.

"Yeah." Klaus's voice is soft. "Yeah. I... lost him too soon." He holds the dogtags.

"And that's worth giving up the drugs for?"

"He's better than any high I could have."

"More deserving of your sanity then we are."

"What?" 'Nam hisses.

"Little liar," Rave spits.

Klaus huffs. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just trying to understand why he was able to get under your skin so quickly and why his loss was so devastating to you. You know, The Commission is not above long-con missions, or sacrificing personnel."

Klaus grips the tags tighter. Ben groans and puts his head in his hands.

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. But I'm concerned about how you've been acting lately. And how this... random person you met after your time travel is influencing it."

"HE'S NOT SOME-"

"-random fling," Klaus spits, his own voice lower than 'Nam's but no less disgusted.

"I'm sure he wasn't a fling for you," Five says and god that know-it-all tone makes 'Nam scream again and Klaus can't even blame the ghost. "But I don't trust the timing. You said it was ten months. That's not a lot of time to have this... intense, of a reaction."

"YOU NEED TO-"

"-get out."

"Hey, I'm trying to help you." Five gestures around the room. "You're a mess over this. You're reading Dune, you won't stop wearing that stupid vest, now you're sick-"

"It's not because of Dave."

"We don't know that-"

"I do!"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT DAVE LIKE THAT!"

Klaus claps his hands over his ears at the scream, not just 'Nam but Rave and even Torture and more who died so much younger-

"Hey." Five pulls Klaus's hands away from his ears with a softness that surprises Klaus. "Look. I just got you all back, alright? And now it feels like I'm losing one of you again. I know we've never been particularly close-"

One of the teenage ghosts scoffs, a bullet hole through it's heart from a time Five teleported away form a bullet while Klaus was right behind him. His body had fallen behind a desk. No-one had noticed.

"-but I'm trying to fix that. So let's talk about this... Dave, and figure out who he was and why he has so much influence over you."

And the warmth that had wormed it's way into Klaus's heart vanishes.

"He has so much influence," Klaus says, gripping his tags protectively, "Because he was there for me. I got thrown, into a hellscape, and he helped me through it. When I cried, he didn't roll his eyes. When I screamed, he didn't plug his ears. When I d-"

"He begged the universe not to take us," 'Nam says softly. "He begged it to give us back. And wouldn't leave our side after it did."

Five has his head tilted, studying Klaus. Most of the ghosts hiss at him because of how much that calculating, curious gaze looks like their father's.

"When you what, Klaus?"

"Nothing." The word is more a deep-rooted sigh than anything else. "If you want to talk, we can. But not if you're going to keep accusing Dave of that sort of thing."

"I'm not accusing anyone of anything, you idiot, I'm trying to figure out if you've been brainwashed or manipulated. If you don't want my help with that-"

"Yeah, okay." Klaus flops over face-down onto his bed. "Bye-bye now." He waves at Five.

"You don't get to dismiss me when I'm trying to bond with you!"

"Yes, accusing the one person who ever loved us of being a fake is such good bonding material," Rave snarls.

"Just shut up," Klaus groans into his pillow. He means the ghosts.

"Fine. Lay here in your self-pity until you're ready to talk like adults." Klaus hears that warbly little sound that means Five's blinked away.

"You guys are assholes," he mumbles."

"We're not the one who took the one thing that made us happy and tried to shit all over his memory."

"... Ben, tell me they're being assholes."

"They're being assholes. ... But they're right that Five was out of line."

Klaus sighs into his pillow.

"This is one of your worse ideas since getting sober."

"Don't be a spoilsport, Ben." Klaus rifles through their father's office some more. "We never got our inheritance, and I need new shoes."

"Not eighty dollar boots."

"It's practical. The more expensive ones last longer! They're better than the ones I wore to the funeral, too. More lift."

"Do you need to be taller?"

"No, but I like to be."

"Hey, Klaus."

He startles, turning around to see Viktor standing in the doorway. "Cripes on a cracker, you almost gave me a heart attack."

One of the ghosts laughs airily. "That's not what it felt like, remember?"

Ben smacks that ghost on the back of the head. It shuts it up.

"Sorry. Um, just wanted to see what you were doing." Viktor's eyes flick around the office. "... Looking for something?"

"Yeah, yeah." Klaus lifts his leg up. "Need new shoes, and as much as I love going barefoot I love it a little less when there's knives and lots of broken glass everywhere."

Vitor blushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine, power training and all that, shit happens." He tries to ignore all of the blue-lipped and shivering tiny Klauses around him, mausoleum dust and grime still clinging to their spectral forms.

"Yeah. Kinda crazy to be the one doing it instead of just holding a clipboard for Dad. ... So um, what do new shoes have to do with Dad's office?"

"Well, mein bruder, I don't exactly have a steady income, if you haven't noticed." He flashes a grin. "So I figured dear old dad wouldn't mind a few parting gifts."

"... And that's... all you're using the money for?"

"Not this again." At least Rave sounds just annoyed instead of seething in unending rage this time.

Klaus's smile fades a little. "How many times do I have to remind you all that I'm sober?"

"Sorry. Just- I know relapses are common."

"Well, thanks for the concern, but I can manage."

"Right." Viktor lingers. "And, um... how're your powers?"

"What?" Ben and Klaus say at the same time.

"Just- wondering. ... Diego, said you were having trouble with them."

"Oh." Klaus blinks, still caught off guard. "They're, um..."

"He won't listen." One of the early-twenties ghosts. "Remember when you tried to reach out after that round of rehab? He used it in the book, like it was some example of our failure to get ahold of ourselves."

"It's not easy," Klaus says indirect defiance to that ghost, voice catching a little. "Lots of bitter bitches following me around."

Viktor laughs a little. "So they just... always follow you around? Like Ben?"

"Some of them. It's a little complicated, and... honestly, I have no idea how they work." He lets out a giggle. "No matter how much Dad tested and tested, they're just-" he swishes his hand around in the air. "-nonsense."

"At least you've had time to figure them out," Viktor says, and there's a teasing tone to the words but ouch.

"They still haven't pieced it together. Doesn't take a fucking genius to if they'd just pay attention," a fourteen-year-old ghost spits. He's one of the oldest Mausoleum ghosts.

"Well, about that." Klaus finds his hand making it's way to his dogtags. "The drugs sort of prevented all that, so... it's a little like I'm learning them for the first time."

"I thought they just prevented you from manifesting ghosts?"

"No, no, they... got rid of the whole thing." Klaus cracks another smile. "Traded screaming souls for diarrhetic hippos and a lot of distrust from my siblings. Seemed worth it at the time."

"... So you just... gave up on your powers? Because they scared you?"

"Well, yeah." Klaus scoffs a little. "You would too, trust me."

"No, I wouldn't. I-I had my powers drugged out of me for years, and it... ruined, my life. Why would you do that to yourself on purpose?"

"Is he... offended?" Ben stares at Viktor in disbelief.

"I know it doesn't make a lot of sense to everyone else," Klaus concedes, "But seeing mangled corpses gets old after a while."

"Klaus." Viktor's voice shakes. "You took away a part of yourself. You just threw away the thing that made you-"

"Horribly traumatized?" Klaus provides.

"Made you apart of the group." Viktor blinks at him like he's seeing the aforementioned diarrhetic hippo. "Do you know what I would have given to be you back then?"

"Do you know how fast you'd regret it?" an overdose whispers.

"Vik," Klaus says softly. "I know how you were treated wasn't right. But believe me, my powers weren't worth it. I'd be stuck on lookout and still unable to get away from the ghosts of people our siblings killed on the mission. Special training was-"

The mausoleum ghosts wail at the very mention, and he feels the blood drain out of his face as he lifts shaking hands to his ears. He whimpers.

"Klaus?" Viktor is closer now all of a sudden. "Klaus, come back. What's going on?"

"You think you're the only one who has panic attacks?" laughs Torture humorlessly over the sounds of the wailing. Klaus presses his hands even tighter around his ears.

"Let me try something." Viktor closes his eyes, and his skin starts to glow, and distantly Klaus thinks he might be trying to build up a sound for Klaus to grasp onto instead of the ghosts-

And then the three year old with the broken neck and bones begins screaming.

"NO! NO, NO, NO NO NO! NO GLOW, NO-NO, NO!"

Klaus shudders, shutting his eyes but instead of darkness he sees fuzzy, faded memories of Viktor having a fit over something and Klaus just so happening to be too close by when the wave of power hits-

"He's going to do it again!"

"We told you they don't care!"

"We warned you!"

"GET HIM AWAY!"

There's a shock of cold against his back, and then inside, sinking into the muscle and meat and bones, and Ben gasps and Klaus shivers and-

"What the hell!"

Klaus opens his eyes to Viktor now a few paces away. The three year old is standing just in front of him, laying on the floor.

"He slammed into Viktor's legs," Ben says in shock. "The rave one stuck his hands into you and the little on turned corporeal."

"What?" Klaus looks at his hands. "I didn't-"

"I'll just, leave you to it." Viktor stuffs his hands into his jack pockets. "Sorry for trying to help."

"No, wait-"

But he's already turned around and left.

Klaus collapses into Reggie's chair. Rave is looking at his own hands and grinning. Torture reaches into Klaus's chest, sending another shock of cold through him, and Klaus's hand splutter with blue.

Klaus jerks out of the chair and runs to his room, the delighted laughter of the ghosts following him the whole way.

Chapter Text

"Just breathe."

"Easy for you to say, Benerino," Klaus says, hugging himself and shaking his leg, eyes fixed on the wall. He lets out a humorless, near breathless (heh) laugh. "You don't have to breathe."

"Now's not the time for lashing out."

"Tell that to the other Klauses. Klausi? Klaus already plural?"

"Klaus!"

Another empty laugh. "Really eye-opening, you know, to know what I'm like after death. That I just turn into a bitter, loveless husk like every other damn ghost I know-"

"KLAUS!" Ben gets right in his face. "Knock it off! You aren't them!"

"Yes, I am. That's sort of the whole problem!"

"You're not, because you are alive! Put your hand on your neck."

"Not in the mood for strangulation, it's not even that fun sol-"

"Quit reflecting and put your goshdamn hand on your neck."

Klaus huffs, and rolls his eyes as he puts his trembling hand over his neck.

"What do you feel?"

"Sweat?"

"A pulse. You're alive. They're dead. They're not just bitter at our siblings, they're bitter at you."

"For pissing my life away?" Klaus snaps.

"I stand by that, you needed to hear i- FUCK!"

Ben hits the floor, and Torture pulls back his fist. Klaus shoots to his feet and tries to help Ben up, but his hands go right through.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Klaus tries to push Torture away, but again, right through. "You don't get to hit Ben! Only I get to fight with Ben, and not that hard!"

"I am you," Torture spits. "And he's the same as the rest of them. We died in that closet, and the last we heard before it happened was him tearing into us for something he doesn't understand!" It's eyes lock onto Ben as he stands back up. "You just can't help it, can you Benny? Ripping people to shreds when they're down?"

"Out of line!"

"You're too scared to say what needs to be said!"

"You're too stuck on your own death to let things go! This doesn't- this doesn't solve, anything!" He shakes his hands desperately. "We can't just stew in this misery!"

"We can't get out of the lows without getting much too high though," an overdose says breathlessly (moreso than is natural for a ghost).

"We can, we can! Find! Healthy... outlets!" Klaus looks to Ben for support. "Right?"

"Normal people can," Ben huffs, rubbing his jaw.

"You little shitheel-"

"Klaus?"

He startles, and the ghosts flood the room. He claps his hands over his ears as they all start screaming, screaming and clawing and gnashing and grabbing and seething and crying-

Luther is leaning in through the doorway, all of their other siblings just behind him. And they're all frowning at him, they're always frowning at him, what's new there, really.

"What's going on? We heard you shouting about Ben." He tilts his head at Luther, trying to read his lips. It takes three repeats for him to get it, the frowns turning more and more into scowls each time.

"Oh. Um..."

"Tell them!" Ben shouts above the clamoring.

"Some... ghost bitch punched Ben." Klaus shuts his eyes. "And they do not know how to take a hint to fuck off!"

"You want the wrong ones to leave!" one of the ghosts wails. "It's them! THEM!"

Klaus shakes his head, stepping back. He feels a hand on his shoulder, a living hand, and then feels a shock of cold in his side he jerks away from it and then the hand is gone and there's even more yelling-

And then the door slams and the ghost go silent. Klaus peeks his eyes open.

Just Ben.

"You headbutted Diego," Ben says softly. "Trying to pull away from the rave one."

Klaus flops backwards onto his bed and whines. "Shit."

"Am I in the clear?"

"Confront them," Torture hisses. "He cared more about his lady friend than us being tortured. Confront them!"

"Not talking to you," Klaus whispers sharply.

"You're in the clear," Ben says with a sigh. "Or you could, I don't know, tell them what's going on?"

"Yeah, that'll go over great, Benny. Hey guys, I've been lashing out lately because I'm surrounded by my own ghosts, a lot of whom died because of you all! Really good for our just-healing familial bonds. Probably even better for Viktor, I'm sure it won't send him into a panic attack."

"Klaus-"

"Making a sandwich, can't hear you."

He finishes his plain, sad little sandwich (turns out his stomach's a bit fucked up from years of hard drugs and alcohol and dumpster food, who could've guessed that outcome?) (Ben did) and starts to head to his room.

He pauses.

The ghosts... love his room. They trace the words and drawings on the wall with their fingers, so many of them having died so close to when those were written or added... sometimes they hold the smaller ones up to the words to try and teach them to read, but Ben's the only ghost Klaus has ever known who was capable of learning new non-ghostly things after death.

They're probably still there now, besides Torture and the stray teenage one. And a few non-Klaus ghosts, but with a bit of focus those ones go away.

... Klaus sits at the table.

He gets four bites into the sandwich before his family file in, one by one, to the little kitchen. He groans and shoots a glare at Ben.

"You said you couldn't hear me anyway." Ben doesn't even try to hide the smirk.

Klaus looks back at his sandwich.

"Klaus." Luther sits first, and everyone else follows his lead. "We need to talk about your behavior lately."

"Not on drugs, for the millionth time," Klaus says around a mouthful of turkey and mayo. And ugh, nutty bread. What's the appeal of bread with bits in it?

"Not that, but, we might revisit that later."

"He knows what being high looks like, even if he doesn't want to admit it," Rave spits. Klaus's shoulders slump as the rest of his ghosts trickle into the room, snarling and scowling and sobbing. "He just looks down on us."

But Luther shakes his head. "No, um, we need to talk about yesterday. About what you did to Diego."

Diego sits on the other end of the table, one arm crossed of his chest while he flips a knife with the other, a bandage over his nose. "You broke it," Diego says bluntly. "Didn't even know you could do that on purpose, much less accident."

"Why do they always assume we're weak?" a teen says, swiping a hand through Diego's head to try and smack him. "Let's see them die time and time again and stay sane."

"I wouldn't say you stayed one-hundred percent sane." Ben gestures at Rave specifically. Klaus laughs a little.

"It's not something to laugh about," Allison scolds. "Klaus, you hurt him."

"Sorry. No, I-I wasn't laughing about that, I swear. Ben made a- nevermind. I didn't mean to headbutt him, honest."

"Then what were you doing?" Viktor leans forward. "You kind of looked like... I don't know. I mean, I've had some overloads thanks to my powers before-"

"Understatement," Diego mutters, earning a glare from Five and Allison.

"-and it looked like that you were doing."

"Yeah, well, ghosts love emotionally vulnerable moments and hate being told to go away. Sort of did it to myself."

Luther frowns. "What, they were... preying on you?"

Klaus laughs again. "Yeah! Yeah, fuck. They are, aren't they? I always end up like that."

He forces himself not too look at 'Nam and the hole in it's head.

"Well... can we help?" Luther gestures at the air around Klaus. "Clear them away? Isn't, uh... incense, a thing?"

"Tried it, Luther, but thank you."

"What about your own powers?" Five has that studying look to his eyes again. "Can you make them go away?"

"Getting better at it. But some of them are stubborn old bastards."

"Not by choice," Torture grumbles. "We just don't have other options."

"I know," Klaus says with a sigh.

"... Know what?"

Klaus waves his hand in the air. "Ghosts don't get to stay sane. Ben's the only exception. This one was just reminding me it doesn't really have a choice but to stick around on this plane."

"They do have a choice not to torment you," Ben says, stepping forward. "You know they do."

Klaus nods a little. "But they're real dicks about what they do while they're stuck here."

"Forever," an overdose huffs. "As long as you are, good ol' pulse-boy."

"Terrible nickname."

"Well excuse me, I died with lethal amounts of heroin inside of me, so sorry my snark isn't up to par."

"What do they all think this will accomplish anyway?" the teen with the knife in it's chest spits. "They already killed us. Little late to start sympathizing."

"Better late than never."

"Klaus." Luther snaps his fingers in front of Klaus's eyes. "Stop debating the ghosts, or whatever it is you're doing. This is serious."

"So are we," Rave huffs. Klaus takes a deep breath.

"I know. It's just a little distracting."

"We're not just talking about yesterday," Five says, barreling over Klaus's statement. "You've been snapping at us a lot lately."

"Sobriety grumpies. Working on it."

"No, I don't think that's it." Five leans in. "You got pretty intense with me when I checked on you."

"And you were accusing the love of my life of being some spy," Klaus fires back, gritting his teeth a bit at the memory. "Excuse me for getting defensive of him."

"Love of your- wait, go back." Allison leans in now. "When did this happen?"

"Oh, I time-travelled. Five knows, I think I told Diego."

"No you didn't, when the hell was this?"

"After you all left us for dead!" Torture screams. Klaus winces, swallows, and speaks carefully to prevent his voice from shaking.

"The veteran bar fight wasn't enough of a clue?"

Diego's eyes go wide. "Shit. That's what you meant?"

"What else would we-"

"-I have meant?"

"Maybe you met someone who served, not that you met someone who served back in time."

"When?" Viktor holds a hand out to stop Diego from talking more. "I mean, when did you go back to?"

"... 1968. For ten months. Dave was... the only person that I've... that I've ever felt that way for."

"1968..." Allison catches on first. "Holt shi- the Vietnam War? How-how did you survive that?!"

Klaus and 'Nam both bark out the same bitter, half-amused laugh. It makes Klaus shudder immediately after.

"What's that?" Diego gestures at Klaus with his knife. "We're trying t-t-to listen to y-y-you. Y-y-you w-w-were in a w-war? A-a-alone?"

"I had Dave."

"How did you even- wouldn't you need a briefcase?" Allison looks at Five. "Did you-"

"No." The softness becomes... guilt. "Klaus mentioned it before. I disregarded it. ... I shouldn't have."

"Disreg-"

"He was tortured, by Hazel and Cha-Cha." Five looks Klaus in the eyes. "That's what you meant, right?"

They all look at him, with mixed expressions of horror and shock and guarded denial.

Klaus shrugs. "Tortured them back, if it helps. Not with the beatings, or anything, let's just say my shining personality and... eccentric tastes weren't something they loved being around. It's the first time that trait of mine's been useful, hah."

"Wh-wh-whe-"

"I told you about this," Klaus says softly, looking at Diego. "Remember? After the bar?"

All eyes turn to Diego.

"I-I-I... P-Patch-"

"Of course," Torture sobs. It turns into a wail. "OF COURSE!"

"Klaus told you he was tortured and you were focused on your police fling?!" Allison scoffs, turning away from Diego. "I can't believe you-"

"I-I was-wasn-wasn't the o-o-only one," Diego defends, eyes shining in the same light as the knife that keeps flipping faster and faster.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"None of you noticed," Rave growls. Klaus puts his hands over his ears.

"W-w-we all mi-m-m-missed that he g-g-got taken-"

"None of you noticed," Torture whispers.

"We were a little busy!"

"None of you ever notice," 'Nam spits

"So w-w-was I!"

"None of you ever will notice," an overdose cackles.

"You're one he's always clinging to-!"

"NONE OF YOU NOTICED!" Klaus jerks up. "OKAY?! NO-ONE NOTICED, SO STOP FIGHTING OVER IT! NO-ONE'S WORSE OR BETTER THAN ANYONE, OKAY? PLEASE!"

Silence.

The first to speak up is Viktor. "Has that... happened before?"

And it's like every bit of strength is sucked out of him.

He collapses back into the chair, and gives a weak chuckle. "Yeah. Yeah... you could say that." He looks at the mausoleum ghosts, with their baby-fat cheeks and ever-bloodshot eyes and trembling blue lips. "Once or twice."

The ghosts explode.

He gasps and slams his hands over his ears as they clamor, they scream, they demand justice and revenge and pain and acknowledgement and it's his own voice over and over and over screaming things he would never say never want never need-

"Fuck this!"

Two cold shocks in his back. His eyes fly open, mouth agape. His siblings are gathered around him, trying to snap him out of it and Diego won't let anyone touch him and he's crying and Luther is trying to swipe at the air around him and and Viktor is trying to get his attention to help him breathe and Allison is shock-still and Five is snapping his fingers but Klaus can't hear them and-

"Fuck this."

Two more shocks. He thinks he screams. Everything is blue.

"Enough is enough."

Two more. He chokes, and he loses.

"Klaus? Klaus, breathe with me- Five, stop it."

"He's catatonic."

"D-d-don't t-t-touch- he-he m-m-might not-"

"I can shake him out of it, just get off of me-"

Klaus lets out a short, sharp scream, and the blue flickering in his hands gets stronger. Ben flickers into view in the corner, yelling at-

"Who's Ben yelling at?" Luther asks.

Klaus chokes.

The room is full.

The glowing blue forms of dozens and dozens of ghosts appear all around them, making all of them jump and huddle together-

"Let me breathe!"

Allison looks down, and her eyes widen in horror. Everyone else follows and...

A child, no more than six or seven, is tugging at her pant leg. A child in a tiny uniform, sweater vest and tie and jacket, with curly hair and tired eyes, a child who is inarguably, undoubtedly-

"Klaus?" Allison's lip trembles.

"Please let me breathe! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me breathe!"

"I was right," Five says softly. "He did mean he'd died. But that means..."

They all, slowly, look up.

Every ghost, of every age, of countless and gruesome injured to barely visible signs of death-

"Klaus," Viktor breathes. "Oh, god, Klaus..." He startles as a toddler, toddler, with a broken neck and broken bones clings to his leg, sobbing and begging and it's barely understandable because he's just a toddler he can't even speak well-

"How many..." Luther looks at Klaus, the living one. "No. No, that's not-"

They all look at him. He's stiff in the chair, mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes blazing blue, hands glowing with the same intensity where they stay gripping over his ears. And around him, three more, all sticking their arms into his torso.

"You- you died that night?" Luther's voice cracks.

And one of them, in tree-patterned tank top, smiles. Coldly, gleefully. "Hi, Luther. Sure was some rave, wasn't it? That girl's boyfriend really thought so."

"No, that didn't- I'd have noticed-"

"Would you?" One of the others, with blood all over and only a towel around it's waist and tape over it's mouth, looks Luther in the eyes. It's voice rings clearly, despite the gag. "I'd say everything around you says otherwise."

"We didn't-" Allison looks down at the child still tugging at her pants. She looks at the ghosts, more than one, far more than one clearly having died on missions, died unprotected, died unnoticed-

"No-one ever notices." The final one by Klaus, in the army fatigues and with a giant hole in his head, his skull is blown apart oh god Klaus has had his skull blown apart-

"We can- we can fix this," Viktor says, stepping forward a bit. "We won't let this happen again."

"No." The one in the tree shirt laughs. "You won't."

All three pull their arms out. Klaus goes slack. But the glow stays. The ghosts stay.

"Don't do this!" they hear Ben shout from somewhere in the crowd.

The tree shirt one holds up one finger. "Ghosts are either inconsolably angry-"

The war one points at the children by Viktor and Allison. "-Utterly despaired-"

The tortured one points at the crowd of ghosts that they can only assume are overdoses, pale and shaking and laughing to cover sobs. "-or frantically hopeless."

All the ghosts, every single one in the room, speak the next words in unison.

"Ben is the only exception."

And then they swarm.

Chapter Text

It's kind of nice. Being a corpse.

That's what he thinks is happening, anyway. Maybe the act of thinking itself is proof against this theory, but then again he's died before and kept thinking afterwards.

But this time he's just still.

No greyscale world with the creator of the universe telling him how much she personally hates his guts. No hopeful search for his lost love just to find his asshole father instead. No waking back up.

No. Waking. Back. Up.

He's less aware of anything than he's ever been in his life, and it's incredible. Even drugs could never give him this, this sheer... respite. He's aware of nothing except how unaware he is. He can't feel his body, he can't see anything, he can't hear anything, it's all just gone. Fallen away with a shock of cold.

So he's pretty sure he's a corpse now. He can't believe how peaceful it is.

No wonder his ghosts were all so upset.

Five bodies hit the floor of the living room, and Five's body hits the floor of the living room. He staggers to his feet, clutching his arm as blood seeps from his clawed flesh. "Who's still with us?" he croaks.

Luther picks up Diego. Luther himself is in tatters, clothes and flesh alike shredded by desperate, vicious nails, some blunt and some overgrown. There's bites, deep bites bleeding as bad as a stab wound. But he's always been able to take a beating, physically strong in more than just muscle.

Diego is... out. He's breathing, barely, bruises already forming on his throat from sets of hands.

The tortured one started it. Other ones joined in. Some of the hands that had done this were so... small. Just kids. But kids with no remorse. And that's to say nothing of the matching bites and torn flesh they all shared, the only real 'weapons' these ghosts have.

Allison has matching bruises, and bloody punctures to her throat. She's nearly as catatonic as-

"Klaus is still down there," Viktor chokes, taking off his shirt and helping Allison stop the bleeding even as his hands tremble enough for the shirt to fall right out of his grasp.

"I don't think we need to worry about him," Luther spits, ripping off a piece of his own tattered jacket and wrapping it around one of Diego's legs.

Five sways as he stands, and Luther pulls him closer. Five leans on his big brother (and usually he'd argue he only means in height and bulk, but right now he feels too much like he did all those years ago, when he saw nothing but corpses and ruined futures-), head spinning. The clawing he could deal with, but the shoving and the punching and the kicking- blunt force trauma has always been his least favorite to recover from.

"He's not even conscious," Five says, voice slurring a little as blood dribbles from his split lip. "Whatever they did to him, they're in control."

"They are him!" Luther rips off another strip of fabric and hands it to Viktor, who starts wrapping it around Five's arm. Allison sits on the floor, hands over her throat, staring straight ahead.

The punctures are tiny. Tiny. A child's nails.

"LET ME BREATHE! LET ME BREATHE, LET ME BREATHE! I'M SORRY, I'M SCARED, LET ME BREATHE! PLEASE ALLY! PLEASE!"

"Do they act like him?" Five tries to snap, but it comes out weak, tired, wheezed. "He's... Luther." He looks up. "He's died. So... many times." His bloody lip trembles. He lets it. "Our brother keeps dying. Can you imagine what that does to a person?"

"Why wouldn't he just tell us?" Viktor can't stop pacing. "He-he's always been so open."

"Has he?" Allison's voice is distant. Barely a whisper. "... Did I really kill a six year old?"

"You were six too," Luther mumbles. Viktor stands on the couch to reach Luther's head, his blond hair a mess of sticky red in the back. The rave one had tried to rip his head open, it's own cracked skull flinging spectral blood everywhere as he it nearly frothed at mouth with gleeful vengeance.

"We need to move." Five tries to stop leaning on Luther, but the world sways too much and he slumps back against his brother's side. "Ben won't be able to hold them off forever."

He's the only reason they're alive, probably. one moment it had been a blur of Blue and Blood and Bashing and the next the ghosts had been screaming with a new rage, held back by tentacles made of their own energy.

"Klaus is still down there," Viktor says again. "He- he's stuck with them-"

"Vik-"

"Do you know what it's like?" The trembling has spread to his entire body. "When I was- down there, in the- I started seeing things. Myself, my- my younger selves. Telling me to get revenge. Telling me you all hated me. That was just in my head. That was just my mind turning in on itself."

Viktor points downstairs. "He's been dealing with the same thing. The same thing, but worse, because those aren't just a-a mental break, they're his ghosts, from his deaths. Five... he needs help."

"We can't help him." Five shuts his eyes to try and make the room stop tilting. "We can't even get close to him."

"We killed him." Allison presses a hand to her mouth. "He did my makeup. I killed him. He still did my makeup."

"He's hurt," Viktor's voice is breathless, on the edge of hyperventilation, and the wind outside is picking up. "He's hurting."

Someone yells downstairs.

Not Klaus.

Five's eyes shoot open.

"We'll figure it out later. Right now we need to move."

"Five-"

"I don't want to leave him behind either," Five hisses. "But in case you haven't noticed, we can't fight ghosts. They can touch us, and we can't touch them. And they are using Klaus as a battery right now, with seemingly complete control over activation and sustainment of his powers. So unless any of us happen to know the secret off switch to his powers, we're fu-"

"Drugs," Diego wheezes out, eyes fluttering as he struggles to regain consciousness. Everyone goes still. Diego draws another wheezing breath. "Klaus... told... once." His voice rasps, his chest heaving as he struggles to push the words through his damaged throat. "Thought... excuse."

Luther looks at Five. "It could be. If drugs stopped his powers, how was he able to see Ben for so long?"

"If drugs don't stop his powers, how come they've never manifested like this before?" Five mutters. "... Any drugs, Diego?"

A shaky nod. "Drinks," he coughs out.

"Drugs and booze. ... We can work with that. Luther, take me to his ro-"

Ben tumbled out of the floor, eyes wide, The Horror just barely seen as it flees back under his skin. "They're like animals," he says breathlessly. "They don't stop."

A hand reaches up through the floor. And another. Another.

They're coming.

Five grits his teeth, closes his fists, and blinks away.

The laughter bubbles up out of him like last night's booze after a sip too many. "Oh, why am I not surprised? Can't take what you dish out, big guy?"

Luther steps back, and Rave savors the look in his eyes. The same fear Rave held when he was tossed around like a ragdoll before chasing after this idiot just to be killed in the middle of a withdrawal-and-PTSD panic attack. Good times.

For everyone but him. He's just not allowed those, apparently.

"Klaus," Luther says in that Big Strong Number One voice that makes his already tormented spirit shriek inside, "I'm sorry. I wasn't- I let myself go, and let my guard down, and it got you killed. That should never have happened."

"That wasn't even the first time," Rave says, his voice sounding dreamy and far-off to even himself as his chest twists and aches as the other ghosts who claim Luther step forward. "A lot of causality-heavy missions, huh?"

"I know. It's not okay. Dad had us thinking-"

"Dad," Rave laughs again. "Oh, if only the old bastard was here for this... but you work too. After all-" He steps aside, and dozens of blue-lipped, tear-stained ghosts step forward. "-the negligence wasn't just on him. None of you noticed."

"Klaus." Viktor steps forward. "We would have saved you. If-if we'd known."

"Such a lovely sentiment! But I don't think you would."

"Of course, we would, I know what it's like to-"

"Do you? Good for you. How many ghosts do you have, hmm? Let's start from the first on my end." 'Nam walks to the front cradling the Stillborn. "Look at that! Dead on my birthday! I never thought anyone else could relate."

Allison lets out a choked sob at the sight. "Klaus." She stands, hands shaking, voice rough. "Please. We- we love you. We're your siblings. We want to help."

"And I'm sure he'd really appriciate that," Rave says, sticking out his bottom lip and holding his hands over his heart. He sighs. "But, he's down there and still blinded by Life, and the fantasy of family... so we finally get to defend ourselves."

And then it's a blur.

A fantastic, bloody, enraged, satisfying, VENGEFUL BLUR.

It's a blur.

Five finds some pills in Klaus's room in places Klaus himself probably forgot about, and blinks to the bar just long enough to grab a bottle of whiskey. He grab a couple bottles of strong painkillers and opioids from the infirmary just for good measure.

And then he stands before Klaus.

All of the ghosts are upstairs now. He can hear muffled screaming.

Klaus is still slack in the chair, but his mouth is no longer open in a silent scream. He's limp, eyes and hands and veins in all the way up to his shoulders glowing bright cobalt blue. He's staring into nothing, jaw slack, slumped in a crappy wooden chair.

He's never looked more peaceful.

Five sighs, dumping a few of the painkillers and extra pills into his hand. "Sorry to have to do this, Klaus." He gently grabs Klaus's face, pinching the sides of his cheeks to get his mouth open wider. "But there's no other way. Sobriety couldn't last forever for you anyway."

Five's heartbeat stills as he hears his own words.

Klaus's sobriety.

He'd worked so, so hard to get it. He'd died for it, alone on some rave floor with Luther ignoring him. He'd overdosed countless times, alone and out of his mind and hopeless.

Alone.

Why is no-on ever there for him?

Maybe Ben was there. Maybe. But what would Ben say? What could Ben do? Is that part of why he did the drugs? What was it like, his dead brother always hovering around him, reminding him, living through him? Did Ben ever get jealous? Did he ever scream at Klaus for wasting his life on drugs?

Or did he understand, the way none of them could?

When Five found Klaus, all those ears ago, amongst the rubble... had he been sober when he died? Had he fought with their siblings, somehow ending up along and separated in the alleyway by chance? Or had he been pushed aside again? Had Viktor gotten him, or the falling rubble, like so many of the young ghosts from their missions?

The drugs lay in Five's hand, the booze gripped tightly in the other. And he asks a question that, perhaps, has never been asked before (with concern, as it is).

What will this do to Klaus?

"Five!"

He jolts and turns to see Luther sprinting down with Diego and Viktor both thrown over his shoulders. His face is bloodier, his left eye swelling and his nose crooked in a way it wasn't before, his cheek clawed up and his hair missing clumps in places.

Diego has one of his own knives embedded in his leg and a bleeding wound just barely short of having pierced an artery in his neck. Viktor's head is bleeding, bruises littering his face from many tiny but fearsome blows.

Some of those ghosts are children. Five's hand shakes, just slightly, and he can hear the pills clinking together.

Viktor and Diego are both awake, groaning and trying to speak, but struggling. Allison comes down last, slamming the door shut behind her with a "I heard a rumor this door was ghost-proof."

It works for now.

"What're you waiting for?" she asks, stiff and wide-eyed, and Five knows she's barely keeping herself from panicking. "They're killing us, Five."

He looks into his hand. "He just got sober. He hasn't even hit six months yet."

"Ben can't hold them off forever. He's going to slip up again."

The fate of the world isn't hanging in the balance, and yet it feels like it is, al over again, the tunnel narrowing and time running out-

"We'll help him get clean again if we have to. Five, do it."

He puts his hand over Klaus's mouth. Something bangs on the door.

"Five," Diego wheezes. "Please."

Five's hand shakes. A pill slips out and lands in Klaus's mouth, on the tip of his tongue.

"He won't want us to die," Allison says, voice calm and cold but eyes pleading. "You know that."

"Sure sounds like he does out there," Five says, his own voice cracking.

"Ghosts," Viktor gurgles, blood leaning from his mouth. "No' 'im. N' really."

"YOU KILLED US! YOU LET US DIE! OVER AND OVER AND OVER! YOU HATE US! YOU HATE US!"

"They're tormenting him as much as they're trying to kill us." Luther blocks the door, knowing it'd do no good if the rumor fails. "He won't have to listen to them."

"They've been making him lash out, making him angry- this'll help. Until we know how to help better. Five, please, I-I want to see my daughter again Someday."

"... I can't."

"H'lp 'im," Viktor manages, giving a weak pat to Luther's back.

"Okay. Okay, okay. I get it. Emotional support."

Luther adjusts his hold. He walks over, as does Allison.

"YOU LET US DIE! YOU KILLED US! WE TRUSTED YOU! ALL OF YOU!"

"One," Luther says.

"Two," Diego wheezes.

"Three," Allison breathes out.

"Four." Viktor reaches out and holds Five's hand. The other siblings follow his lead.

"... Five."

He tilts his hand. The pills fall in. He pops open the whiskey, and tilts it.

Klaus's body doesn't resist. Doesn't choke. Doesn't splutter.

It all goes down so easily.

"NO, NO! NO, YOU CAN'T TAKE THAT FROM US, NO!"

"DAVE, DAVE, I'LL NEVER SEE DAVE! YOU'RE TAKING HIM FROM ME ALL OVER AGAIN!"

"THE RAVE WASN'T ENOUGH? WAVING THE PILL IN MY FACE WASN'T ENOUGH?!"

"NO, NO, NOT THE WITHDRAWLS AGAIN, YOU'RE MAKING ME GO THROUGH WITHDRAWLS AGAIN! NO!"

The glow in Klaus's skin flickers.

"NO, NO NO NO, PLEASE, WE CAN'T DO IT AGAIN, WE CAN'T DO IT AGAIN, PLEASE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE-"

The glow goes out.

The door stops banging.

The screaming stops.

Everyone sighs.

Five slumps into a seat, and Luther and Allison help prop Diego and Viktor up in them. The blood drains out of Allison's face as she does, and for the first time they all notice the gash in her side.

Soon they're all seated around the table. The same order they'd come in for the intervention.

"How long until he wakes up, you think?" Luther looks at Klaus.

"Who know?" Five shrugs. "Could be minutes, could be days. We don't know how his powers work. How an overload like that works."

"He'll... be okay." Diego rubs his throat. "He-"

His eyes go wide. "H-he-he's n-n-n-no-"

Five is by Klaus's side with a hand on his neck in a literal blink. The room is so, so silent.

Five buries his hands in his hair. "He's dead."

Klaus takes in the monochrome gray world and sighs. Oh, well. it was nice while it lasted.

He feels a tire bonk against his side. "Little Girl?"

"Get off my bike path."

"Sorry, but sitting up is a no-can-do. My head feels all fuzzy for some reason."

"You overdosed again."

"Oh. ... I thought I quit that?"

"You did."

"... Very helpful, thanks."

"You need to have a talk with your family. They're pretty distraught."

"Really? Over what?"

"They did it."

"... Did what?"

"You ask too many questions."

"Well, you answer too few."

"Go now." The tire gently bumps him again.

And in the little basement kitchen, he opens his eyes.

Chapter Text

Klaus blinks slowly. Once. Twice. He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

He waits for some comment. Some 'I told you so' from one of them, probably Rave.

It doesn't come.

What does come is a little bird, flying around wearing a pancake on it's head. He tilts his head, blinking at it for a second. The whole room looks wrong, like it's size keeps changing, and...

Fuck.

He groans and pushes himself up, briefly catching a glimpse of other bodies in the room but the realization getting lost in the haze. He smacks his forehead onto the table and giggles. "Good job, bud," he breathes out, rubbing his arms. "Ben, where are you? The other bitches aren't here to shout at me about this."

"Klaus." Ben's voice is soft next to him. "You died."

"Yeah!" Klaus giggles again. "I picked that up! What happened? Blacked out from the ghosts and just couldn't deal with it anymore? I feel like shit."

"Klaus."

"God, it feels like that time I gambled with the stuff I found in that abandoned hospital. ... Ha, God... she didn't even get off her bike to tell to fuck off this time, ha ha..."

"Klaus."

"What, what?"

"Everyone else is here too."

Klaus lifts his head. Five tear-stained, puffy, bloodshot faces look back at him.

"It's been over an hour," Ben says. "They've been here for the whole time."

"Ah... shit." Klaus grins and raises shaky hands, trying to conceal the tremors with jazz hands. "Surprise! I'm immortal, apparently, kind of. Sorry to be so dramatic about it, but I mean, I am a Hargreeves, you all know we can't do anything normally already, no surprises there."

Silence. He starts to drift off. That crack in the ceiling keeps changing shape, weird...

"You died. That's not immortal." Five's voice is strained, rough, probably in need of some water. Had they literally just been sitting and staring the whole time? He thinks they're staring, as he tries to focus on the table again. Their faces aren't very clear. Nor is the room. Or the table itself. There's a lock of hair in front of his eyes though. He shakes his head a little and giggles at the way it jumps around.

"Klaus?" Luther's voice is just as raspy as Five's. Klaus blinks at him, trying to look a little more attentive, but he misjudges how much force to put into leaning forward and thumps his torso against the table harder than intended. Everyone flinches. Something's off about their faces, now that he thinks about it...

"Yeah?"

"Please try to focus. We know it's hard right now."

"Right, yeah." But his voice is airy as he tilts his head, focus going somewhere other than Luther's words. Instead, it's on Luther's face. "Did you get in a fight?"

"... You don't remember what happened?"

"Oh, you know." Klaus wiggles his fingers at the side of his head. "This stuff doesn't help with memory building, you know, not that kind of medicine. Do you know what I got into? Helps figure out how long I'll be fucked for."

"Opioids," Five rasps. He's stiff as a board. "And a bottle of whiskey. And some stray pills in your room."

"Well," Klaus huffs, trying to scrounge up the memory of what the pills might've been, "That explains the swirling room and the... little cartoon-type birdies around, hi, hi birds, heh.." He lowers his head again after lifting it to see the birds, lightheaded and nauseous. "Fuck, that was a bad idea-"

"Klaus. You didn't take them. We made you take them."

Five's little voice doesn't really stick in his head as his mind starts to drift again. He hums a little to himself.

"Klaus." He looks up again at Ben's voice. "Klaus, look at them."

He trails his eyes over his siblings. He finally really takes in the state of them. He sits up more. "Wait, wait, shit... what happened? Did I miss another... cartoon mask fight?" Is that how he died again?

"No." Luther has his hands clasped tight in front of him. He's pale, under all that blood and bruising. "We um, we came down to talk to you about how you'd snapped at us a few times. Do you remember that?"

Klaus shakes his head. "Probably won't for a while, big guy, just-just tell the whole thing."

"Okay. Uh- well. We talked to you, and it... got away from us. We learned about what happened after the fight, the one here. We... learned that Hazel and Cha-Cha took you."

"... Oh." Klaus's mouth twitches with a smile that he doesn't feel should go there. "Well, cat's out of the closet. Bag. Whichever."

"And um, about Vietnam."

Klaus grabs his dogtags by pure instinct. "Wow," he breathes out. "Deep talk, then."

"And then you ah. Well, not you, your um. Your ghosts."

Klaus's blood runs cold (and why does that shock of cold feel familiar?). "Oh, which, um, which ones?"

"All of them." Viktor leans forward. "Klaus, they activated your powers, and-"

"They did that?" His voice barely makes it out of his throat, each word feeling like they drag claws up his throat. "They- no, no no no." He hugs himself. "I didn't want- I kept trying to tell them to let it go-"

"How long have they been around, Klaus?" Allison reaches a hand across the table. There's dried blood all over her palms. Klaus doesn't take it.

"... A few months." He shrugs.

"Since after... what I almost did?" Viktor lowers his head, staring at his hands. "Did I... did I trigger it?"

"No! No, no, it's just my, weird-ass powers randomly... spewing something new out, as usual." He smiles at his brother. "Not you, Vik."

"But it was us." Diego doesn't look up, staring a knife he's fiddling with in his lap. His voice is broken in a different way than the others', And Klaus tucks his hands away more seeing the bruises around his throat.

He knows it wasn't his hands that did it. But at the same time it was. Somewhere in this room, those ghosts are still lingering, just blocked by a haze of drugs and overdose. And when it lifts...

But right now his siblings are the ones he can see, and this situation is getting more real than he can handle right now. "Come on, bro, it wasn't-"

"Half of them," Diego interrupts. "Maybe more than half. Because of us."

"... You were six," Allison whispers, voice cracking. She lifts a shaking fist to her mouth and presses it into her lips. Her other hand is still reached across the table. Klaus takes it, trying to ignore the feeling of the crusty blood, the way it makes him hear bombs and gunfire and-

He takes a deep, deep breath. Quells it, before it can make this even more of a shitshow of guilt. He's almost impressed with himself for how well he succeeds at it while high.

"But I'm still here." He grins and gestures to himself with his free hand.

"But you're not." Five stands up. "Not all of you. Fuck's sake, you- what if this is why your powers are so fickle? Because it's connected to spirits, and yours is broken into pieces? We-" Five grips his hair. "Your head was blown apart."

"I don't really remember that one, honestly. Just waking up to the same old, same old, dirty trenches."

"Klaus, this isn't-" Luther is scowling, and Allison shoots him a glare. Luther blinks, and rubs his face with a sigh. "Why can't you just..."

"Just trying to lighten the mood, Luther. I'm not the one who looks like I took a tumble off a roof." He knows what that looks like, thanks to the ghosts. His siblings don't look anything like it. The point stands.

"Why can't you just take this seriously, why do you always feel like you need to-" Luther interrupts himself, the scowl slowly falling to confusion. "Wait... you're trying to make us feel better?"

Allison looks down at their clasped hands, hers shaking while his is, while not steady, but not shaking as bad. At the way his arm muscles strain to make sure he's not trembling.

Her tattoo is pointing up. Klaus remembers hugging her after they got it, wiping his own tears as quietly as he could while she sobbed into his vest. He also remembers sneaking her some painkillers from his stash once they were all dismissed.

She'd never asked how he'd gotten them. Maybe she was already suspecting by then.

"Oh, god." She looks him in the eyes. "Klaus, we're trying to comfort you. We-we just killed you."

"Happens."

It's the wrong thing to say. He hears Ben's audible facepalm just one second before tears begin streaking down Allison's face.

"Hey, no, no!" Klaus lets go and tries to get up on legs that don't want to listen. They're as disconnected from him as the ghosts are right now. Diego catches him as he goes down.

"Why're you doing this?" Diego gets him back in the chair as Viktor rubs Allison's back, tears streaking down his face as well. "Why don't you ever just get pissed off at us, huh?"

"Ah! That's not fair." Klaus points at Luther. "I yelled at him before Dad's funeral."

"About the summoning?"

"No, in the office, remember? I was stealing!"

"That doesn't count." If he thought Luther was pale before... "You barely raised your voice. And you- you let me throw you around. Before the-" He cuts himself off, now looking more green, and looks away.

"Look, I'm just not- not that kind of person, okay? Cripes on a cracker, a guy can't just let things roll off of him? I have to get into screaming matches like the rest of you?"

"The other ones thought so." Diego gestures around the room, barely hiding a wince.

"Okay!" Klaus laughs, hugging himself again. "Okay, but those aren't me!" he spits. "Those are ghosts."

"Your ghosts." Five runs a hand through his hair. "Your unfinished business. Which is revenge, on us." Now Five gives a bitter laugh. "And we'd deserve it."

"Yeah, well-" Klaus racks his brain for a logical argument. "-well ghosts are bitches. They don't know shit about what'll actually help them, okay?! They think screaming at a toddler will help, for fuck's sake, don't- don't listen to them."

"You deserve to get angry at us." Diego is scowling now. "What, you just go through life, letting people do horrible shit to you and shrugging it off?"

"Yes!" Klaus throws his hands up. "Yes, Diego, I do! Because I know that letting these- these little grudges and grievances take over do to someone! Because I am surrounded by anger and hatred every waking moment, and I am very tired of it! And because even if I did get mad, what would it do? What would it change? Cripes, I held a grudge against the old man my whole life, and when I saw him again he just waved it all off!"

"We're not dad!"

"But you do the same thing!" he laughs again, more bitterly now, and it makes everyone flinch. He puts his head in his hands. "And I don't blame you for it, you know? No matter what the ghosts think."

"... You should." Viktor's voice is small.

"It doesn't. Do. Anything." Klaus lifts his head again. "Did writing the book help, Vik?" He looks at Diego. "Did killing Cha-Cha help?" Five. "Did blowing up your old boss help either?"

Silence. Except for Klaus's breathing, and the rushing pressure in his ears.

"It's pointless, okay? No-one really listens to screams of rage."

Fuck you, Dad! Fuck you! Let me out, you evil old bastard! Let me out of here! Why do you hate me? I hate you! I HATE YOU!

"Beating someone up just hurts you right back."

He'd tried to punch the guy going after his cash in the alleyway. It broke his hand, and the guy broke his nose. All it did was leave him bloody and penniless. Again.

"And killing people is just the same as beating someone up."

It was the first time on a mission since the rumors had started. The first time someone had called him a slur directly to his face. He'd seen Red. Then it was coating the floor, and there was a bloody brick in his hands. His siblings killed on missions all the time, and this guy was a real scumbag. It didn't make Klaus feel any less sick after, and it didn't make the ghost leave him alone.

"I just want to have some peace," he mutters, going slack. "Just some fucking peace."

There's a long, long silence. Well, silence from his siblings. His blood is rushing in his ears and there's an annoying high-pitch tone drilling into his skull.

Peace is such a foreign concept. He doesn't even know what he'd do with it, if he had it. If he'd be able to hold onto it instead of seeking out Chaos. It's so familiar, even with how much it hurts him, he can't help but hold on-

"I think you should move out."

Klaus blinks, the words registering slowly. He looks at Five. "Hey, wait. I didn't- you don't have to kick me out. That doesn't work anyway, Diego's tried-"

"Not like that." Five’s voice rasps. "We aren't good for you, Klaus. Being around us isn't good for you."

Panic sets in, and his mouth starts going before his mind can even begin to catch up. "But-but I love things that aren't good for me, including you guys!"

"Fives right." Luther is slumped against the table, and Klaus realizes with a sickening metaphorical blow to the gut that he's seeing Luther woozy from blood loss. That hasn't happened in- well, he doesn't know about after he left, but before he did it hadn't happened in years. "We couldn't even find a way to fix things without killing you. We didn't even try to think of another way."

"But that doesn't mean you can't- we all got better with Viktor! Yeah? I don't have to- just Ben being around gets so naggy and-and boring-"

"Klaus-"

"It won't make them go away." His voice is getting desperate, he knows it, but he doesn't care. "They'll still be around, I- yeah, sure, they get madder when you guys are around but I don't care! I-I'll work on holding them back! I'll get them to chill out! I'll- I don't know, I'll take up drinking again, but nothing else-"

"No!" Diego would slam his hands into the table, but all he manages is a weak slap. "Klaus, don't you dare say that. We don't want you to- we like that you got sober, man. We're proud of you for jt. And we're sorry we... we're sorry we haven't told you that. And that we keep... doubting it."

"... We don't view you well," Allison admits through tears. "We didn't really realize how much we looked down on you until now."

"I'd look down on me too, I-"

"We need to learn how to get over the idea we have of you," Viktor pipes up. "It's something my therapist taught me, sometimes to correct your thinking about something, you need... distance, from it."

"No, I-I can't-" He can't go on the streets again, he can't risk having a really bad PTSD episode with no-one around, he can't be alone again-

"We're not abandoning you." Five rubs his eyes. "We'll visit. We can arrange an apartment for you from Dad's funds. Viktor's therapist could start seeing you, or maybe know someone else who can. We won't just leave you without support. But we cannot stop hurting you, even when we're not trying. And it's just as bad for you ad the drugs were."

... They're right. He knows it. But...

"Come on," he says, voice shaking. "I'm not some-some piece of old cake that you can just toss out."

"We're not doing that."

"It feels like you are!"

"We're trying to find a solution so we don't kill you again!"

"What, you just can't help it?!"

"CLEARLY NOT!" Five slams his hands down and leans closer. "Klaus. I debated it. I thought, what about your sobriety? I knew I would ruin it. I did it anyway."

"We all did," Allison admits. "Because he hesitated."

"... You- you thought about it?"

It's a conflict of feelings that rushes over him. He feels livid that they went through with it knowing exactly what they were doing. He feels warmly surprised that the thought even occurred to Five. He feels scared that it'll make him relapse and he'll be on his own again. He feels touched that they actually realize something they did affects him.

...

"I don't want to see Vik's therapist," he says. "I'll see a different one."

Five blinks. "... What?"

"I'm, I'm agreeing. But I'm also holding you to the visiting, okay? And I- I need-" He swallows. "I need a panic button. For- possible situations."

Flashbacks. Panic attacks. Overwhelming cravings he doesn't know he can win against. Days he wishes he could stop coming back.

The ghosts getting too loud. Too convincing.

"We can do that." Five sits back down.

"And I'll write where my old dealers were. I don't want to live in that area."

"That also works." Five's expression softens. "It'll be nice, you know. Finding a life outside of us. All of this."

"Might even replace everyone," he jokes weakly.

It actually causes a little amusement all around the table.

... Maybe a little distance isn't the worst idea.

Maybe... this, is what Moving Forward... actually looks like.