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“Like I always say, you can never have enough black in your wardrobe,” Klaus shouted, his voice muffled by the closet he was currently rifling through. He made a noise of indecision and threw a mesh tank behind him not looking up from his current project.
“Do you say that?” Ben asked as he turned a page in the book he was reading, “I’m pretty sure you were trying to convince Allison she didn’t have enough color in her wardrobe yesterday.”
“Huh, was I?” Klaus asked, still rifling through his closet, the sea of color in front of him doing nothing to back up his previous claim.
“Well, I’m a mercurial fellow. And today, I’m saying you can’t have enough black.”
Ben snorted and looked up, a retort on the tip of his tongue as he watched Klaus pick up a brightly-colored shirt.
“Klaus, you’re literally holding a rainbow-colored shirt.”
Klaus shushed Ben, waving the shirt Ben’s way as he continued sorting through clothes. Ben rolled his eyes and continued reading.
“Oooh,” Klaus’ eyes gleamed as he twirled around, clutching a silk skirt, and took in the scene: Ben perched on top of Klaus’ dresser a book in hand while Five sat on Klaus’ bed, clothes heaped into a pile next to him, “Benny boy do you remember when I got this?”
“Honestly, no,” Ben replied warily, turning a page.
“Dumpster behind that place off 16th, some couple was moving out and pitched a bag of clothes. Whoever let this lovely lady go definitely had no taste.”
Ben looked up from his book and glanced at the skirt, “I’m pretty sure you stole that from Ally,” and went back to reading.
“Huh,” Klaus looked at the skirt again, “Yea, you might be right.” And tossed it behind him.
“So, Fivey,” Klaus’ eyes brightened as he rubbed his hands together, “Anything catch your eye?”
“Not really sure if Five is even listening,” Ben cut in, his focus still on the book, “He hasn’t really stopped staring at that skirt.”
Klaus took a moment to pause and take in Five. Noticing how still Five was, barely seeming to move, attention fully focused on the black velvet skirt in his lap, “Hey Fivey -- wanna hear about the time I dared Diego into getting his nipple pierced and he fainted at the shop?”
Nothing.
Huh.
Klaus knew Five loved his family, but he also knew that every one of them enjoyed a good ‘tricking Diego by way of a dare’ story. Klaus also knew that Five seemed more off than usual this morning. At the time, Klaus brushed it off, but now, as Klaus continued to watch Five hardly moving… well, now Klaus was a bit worried.
As Klaus watched, Five started petting the skirt, a lovely velvet number, almost in a trance.
Klaus made a quick noise of decision, then turned back to his closet, deciding that Five needed some space and a few minutes to follow whatever memory the velvet skirt unlocked. He’d be around once Five was ready to chat.
- - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - -
Five for his part was oblivious to Klaus’ internal dialogue.
If Five had noticed, he may have been annoyed at how easily Klaus could read him.
Instead, he was lost to his memories.
When Five first joined the Commission, he was granted a wardrobe allowance and had no idea what to do. In the apocalypse he never really cared about what he wore, as long as it was warm and practical, the way it looked on him didn’t matter.
He remembered feeling out of place when he entered his first suit shop. A sweet shop clerk who helped him started by giving him suggestions and ended their session by telling Five what to buy. Five was at a complete loss, he hadn’t cared how the suits hung on him. For his part, Five had just tried to get through the session without a panic attack enveloping him. At the time, he wasn’t used to being around so many people. Most of the session had passed by in a blur.
However, he remembered when he spied a velvet smoking jacket, how he laser-focused on the way the velvet caught the light. The shop clerk, who let it be known was very good at their job, noticed Five’s stare and slipped the jacket in with the other clothes for Five to try on. Five equally impressed and annoyed at how easy he was to read had felt his breath stop as he slipped the velvet jacket on. He had always loved velvet, it made him feel safe and comfortable (reminded him of Delores). Velvet… velvet wasn’t practical. It wouldn’t keep him dry. Five bought the jacket, the Commission could eat the costs.
(It did look damn good on Delores)
In the present day, Five looked down at the velvet skirt in his lap. God, does he miss her.
It’s just -- he knows this isn’t what his siblings expect of him. And not that it matters, what he wears. He grew up with Klaus. And even at 13, Klaus knew that he couldn’t be defined, by one gender, by clothing… nothing could define Klaus. Five’s sure that if Vanya wasn’t suppressing her emotions with those pills, she and Klaus would have swapped uniforms indefinitely.
So, it’s not that his siblings would think he was different if he claimed he actually enjoyed wearing Klaus’ clothes. Honestly, he’s not quite sure what it is that’s holding him back. One thing he knew, though, is that he’s damn thankful for Klaus’ constant chatter and ridiculous energy as he has his moment.
Five’s been sat for the past five minutes not responding to anything Klaus has said as he swirled around the room like a tornado grabbing clothes from his closet and chucking them Five’s way. Five’s eyes aren’t tracking Klaus. He’s still, save for his hand gently swiping up and down the black velvet skirt that Klaus had first flung his way. (It reminded him of Delores).
Five couldn’t really care about his clothes in the apocalypse. It was all about practicality.
But, velvet… velvet wasn’t practical. It wouldn’t keep him dry. (It did look damn good on Delores). It felt nice too.
Five liked the velvet. It felt nice. And, for once, he could wear it and wouldn’t have to worry about how he looked or how dry it kept him. But… something about it feels wrong and Five, for as big as his brain is, can’t figure out why.
- - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - -
Klaus knows Five is whip-smart. But, he also knows that for as smart as Five is, he’s not always observant. Moving too fast, seeing patterns that aren’t always there. Jumping to conclusions and ignoring social cues. But that--that’s Klaus’ bread n butter. He could case a john and, with a little help from Ben, have a pretty good idea how the night would turn out. He knew exactly what people wanted from him. Sure it took a lot of practice. Resulted in some near-death experiences. But he eventually figured it out. Developed a particular set of skills.
What Klaus is trying to say is that… he can see Five is having a moment. And he can also tell, by Five’s ramrod straight back, that he doesn’t want anyone to notice that he’s having a moment. So, Klaus has kicked up his *extra* factor a notch. It’s making Ben snort in the corner, so his performance is at least getting some appreciation.
“Five seems pretty into that skirt,” Ben noted. It had been almost ten minutes and Five was still focused on the skirt. Ben glanced over at Five and saw him begin to pet the skirt.
“Mhmm” Klaus agreed, not wanting to respond with actual words and throw Five out of whatever trance he had found himself in. The old man had earned a break.
The thing is Klaus got it. Velvet feels heavenly and divine. If Klaus could, he’d spend all of his inheritance on the finest velvets, silks, and cashmere. Be a real Queen Sheba. Wouldn’t need to steal items from Allison’s closet.
But, Klaus still hasn’t taken his inheritance out of Reggie’s account. As much as he’d love to go on a shopping spree and corral his siblings to join (the-little-girl-in-the-up-above knows that all, save for Allison, are desperately in need of a makeover) he doesn’t trust himself to not blow that money on something else. Something to make his veins sing.
(Ben says he’s proud.
Klaus says it’s nothing to be proud of.
He just doesn’t trust himself. He’s weak.
Klaus just wants one more hit.
He hates that he wants one more hit.
He knows that one more will never be enough.
He just doesn’t trust himself. He’s weak. The age-old mantra.
Ben says that he’s letting Reggie control his life from beyond the grave.
Klaus had laughed at that one.
Klaus knows Ben’s right, though.
He knows he’s letting Reggie’s static view of Klaus cloud any improvements he’s made.
And sometimes… instead of chasing after a high that will make his veins sing, he gives in and lets a new monster consume him.)
- - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - - ~ - - - -
“... and if Dave were here, he’d agree, Klaus -- he’d be so proud--” Ben was going on his third hour of trying to pester Klaus into believing him.
“Christ on a cracker Ben, *fucking* shut up!” Klaus explodes into motion and sound, launching from his seat on the couch to spin around and face Ben, who had materialized standing behind the couch as Klaus’ emotions soared. The stunned expression on Ben’s face gave Klaus pause, but the anger that burned within spurned him on “Stop bringing up shit you don’t know. I’m sick of this. Just fucking stop… just… God Ben. I can’t take this anymore. You don’t know shit, so just… stop man, just stop.”
The anger that had flared bright and red, cooled into an ember as Klaus finished. The energy seeping out of him as Ben flickered in and out of the corporality.
Here’s the thing… Klaus doesn’t do angry. He does bitchy. He definitely does asshole. He’s known to throw some drug-induced rage around, but that was generally toward himself. He doesn’t do angry.
So, while Klaus was a little surprised to see Diego at the table behind Ben’s flickering form, Diego seemed shocked.
“Klaus, Bro -- that was harsh,” Diego said, gesturing with one of the knives he was polishing to Ben’s flickering form before it disappeared completely.
“Cool bro, when I’m looking for an opinion, I’ll let you know. Until then, stay out of it,” Klaus snapped back. Diego’s expression jumped, performing some sort of gymnastics as it landed on shock.
And, if Klaus wasn’t so focused on trying to just stamp out the fire of anger burning in his belly, he’d laugh at whatever sort of routine Diego’s face was competing in.
Instead, Klaus closed his eyes and tried breathing the anger away. He tried the stupid breathing exercises Ben and countless therapists taught him in rehab. It wasn’t working. Nothing was working. And, boy, wasn’t that the problem.
Klaus was not this person. He wasn’t someone who burst into anger (that was generally reserved for Diego and Five, now that he was back). But, now he was getting angry that he was getting angry, he could feel it boiling inside.
Klaus dug his thumbs into the corner of his eyes under his brows, trying (and failing) to relieve tension that was building up. He took one more breath and opened his eyes back up.
Diego was studying him now with… something like curiosity, maybe pity, painting his features. The monster inside Klaus raged. He wasn’t something to be pitied.
“Bro, you’re not okay.”
Klaus’ anger reached a boiling point at Diego’s words. Who was he to judge? How could any of them judge? And then, without any warning, the anger melted away only to be quickly replaced with the need to cry.
And, nope.
Klaus wasn’t crying in front of Diego. Big nope.
He could feel pressure building up behind his eyes and a hitch in his breath; that was his cue to disappear. He needed a moment to breathe, stamp down his emotions, and just forget about everything. God, he needed a hit. Just one pill.
Something in his face must have clued off Diego.
“Klaus--,” Diego started, but Klaus cut him off with a quick, wet laugh.
“Yea, nope,” Klaus answered, popping the ‘p’, “I’m not doing this.”
Klaus left the foyer and hurried upstairs to his room, half expecting Diego to follow. Klaus wasn’t sure what he was more disappointed by, at himself for expecting it or at Diego for not following him.
Didn’t matter much -- Klaus was at his wit's end and only one thing would help. He needed to be numb again. He didn’t think he had any other pills stashed away, but he didn’t care. And, he thought, only one way to find out.
Thirty minutes later, Ben found Klaus mid-search. His room torn apart, mattress half off the frame, wardrobe doors flung open, as Klaus dug through his clothes trying to find any leftover pills long-forgotten.
“Seriously?” Ben asked, his voice somehow sounding drained, annoyed, and betrayed all at once.
“Yea, well -- what do you expect, Benny Boy? Between the ghosts’ constant screaming and your incessant badgering?” Klaus snapped back, his voice thick with frustration, unshed tears, and the anger that started calling Klaus home.
“So much for Dave then, huh?”
Klaus froze.
Slowly getting up from the closet floor, a shirt clenched in a fist turning white with strain, Klaus turned around and met Ben’s eyes. His body tense and coiled.
“Don’t fucking say his name,” Klaus said, his voice shaking with anger.
“What?” Ben said, mockingly, “I mean, obviously, he doesn’t matter right. What’s the point, huh?”
Klaus shook his head, emotions teetering between rage and despair, his eyes skittering away from Ben’s cold, judging ones.
“You’re willing to give it all up? What, for some pills and a quick high -- can’t have meant that much to you?” Ben continued, “Gonna look for a quick fuck next?”
Klaus’ eyes snapped back to meet Ben’s, wide and shocked. And the anger, the anger that had crawled inside Klaus’ stomach snarled and roared inside him, demanded to be let out. Klaus wondered if this was what it felt like when Ben was alive. This need to destroy. Klaus wrapped his arms around his waist, unconsciously mirroring Ben from years before, as he willed his anger to heel. Klaus let Ben’s words wave over him again and his anger quickly turned black with shame. Klaus turned his face away from Ben, soaking in the shame that now enveloped him.
“Guess he was just some Vietnam fling.”
The words stung, each one hitting harder than the last.
The silence that filled the room suffocating Klaus.
“Get out,” Klaus whispered, voice hoarse.
“Klaus -- listen, you’ve been doing so good,” Ben’s tone changed, dropping his previous facade and ignoring Klaus’ demand.
“I said get out,” Klaus repeated, eyes still downcast.
“Just, listen. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot, but damnit when aren’t you? And, okay, listen, I know I haven’t always been helpful. But, Klaus… Klaus, I’ve been so damn proud of you. You’ve been working so hard. And I just… Just… How can you throw it all away? All that progress.”
“What progress?!” Klaus roared, his body exploding into action, gesturing at the room. The anger dancing inside him with glee.“Exactly, what progress, Ben?” His body vibrating with anger as he met Ben’s eyes, demanding answers.
“Was it how many more ghosts are haunting the manor now? Or how about how I still can’t conjure my ‘Vietnam fling’? Or, gee, how every time I try to conjure him, I seem to just draw in other ghosts instead.”
“Klaus, I didn’t mean…” Ben began, but Klaus continued on.
“Ooh, or how about how the only thing I’ve been able to do is keeping you corporal just damn long enough to wave ‘hi’ at our siblings?” Klaus glanced at Ben and saw him open his mouth, and mimed zipping his lips together as he continued on, the anger within him singing, “And don’t tell me that you don’t care, because I see your face every day Ben. I see how disappointed you are. How disappointed they all are.”
“So, Benjamin, what exactly am I giving up, hmm?” Klaus asked arms held wide as he looked at Ben, eyes bright and red with unshed tears. “Because from where I stand, it doesn’t really look like I’m giving up much. From where I stand, it looks like I’ve worked my ass off for nothing and the least I can do. The least you can do. Is give me some damn peace and quiet.” Klaus finished chest heaving.
“Klaus, you don’t mean that,” Ben whispered, voice growing louder as he spoke, “You may want that now, but you’ll just get mad at yourself and then get mad at me and then…” Ben gestured at the room, “then it just becomes a cycle, every time you can’t handle shit you turn to drugs instead of actually opening up to someone and talking- ”
“Oh, talking, huh?” Klaus scoffed, interrupting Ben, “And tell me how that’s supposed to help anything.”
“Klaus, you… you can’t just keep this shit buried inside. It’s going to tear you apart.”
“Great -- looking forward to it. Hope it’s not as gory as--” Klaus snapped his mouth shut, looking at Ben, then away.
“I’m sorry Ben, I didn’t mean that.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not… god, I’m not lying Ben.”
“So, what? You didn’t mean it, you aren’t hoping that you self-destruct. You aren’t hoping that maybe you can just forget about everything?”
“No, I mean, yes… I mean… fuck, Ben, I don’t know. I don’t know what I want and..”
Klaus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his anger from before melting away.
“It’s just all too much, Ben. It’s been weeks, and it doesn’t feel like anything’s getting better, and I can’t sleep, and I’m cold all the time and I just...,” Klaus hesitated looking up at Ben, “I want to see him so bad.”
Ben rushed forward and motioned like he was going to try and grip Klaus’ arm but stopped short.
“You will, Klaus, you will. I know you don’t think you’ve made progress, but you have. And, I don’t know how to get it through that thick skull of yours, but I’m not disappointed by you or your powers, none of us are,” Ben continued on as Klaus scoffed wetly. “And I know you don’t believe me, but we’re proud of you man. You’ve been working so hard, everyone’s noticed. And soon it’s all gonna pay off and you’ll be able to find Dave, and he’ll be so proud of you. I just… I know it, Klaus, I know it.” Ben smiled brilliantly at Klaus, so much hope and faith in him behind Ben’s eyes.
Klaus knew it should be making him happy -- that he should feel good about Ben being proud of him, about his siblings seeing him work hard, and of all of them being proud of him. It’s just. Sue him, he’s not used to this feeling. He’s the family fuck-up, the disappointment. It’ll take a lot more than a couple of pep talks to undo decades of abuse.
The thing is, sometimes he believes Ben. Sometimes he really does think that it'll all pay off and Dave will waltz in with his brilliant smile and eyes full of love for Klaus. That Dave will take Klaus in his arms, hold his face between his hands and kiss hope back into him. That he’ll hold him and tell Klaus how much he’s missed him. That Klaus will try to bury himself within Dave, soak up his warmth, and assure him that he’s really here. That Dave will smile fondly, his arm wrapped around Klaus pulling him tight to his side, showing all the world that this is the man he loves, as Klaus introduces his family to the love of his life.
It sounds amazing.
It sounds too good to be true.
Klaus has been able to deal with a lot of shit in his life. He’s floated through life high on drugs and with little regard for what people think about him. He’s never given his heart over to anyone… at least, not in a long time. Klaus learned quickly what it was like to get burnt in love. He learned it was easier to slap a smile on his face, bury emotions deep inside, and laugh to hide the pain.
Klaus learned that hope was a waste of time. By five, he knew that it was pointless to hope for any hugs from his father. And by eight, he knew that no one was going to save him; stuck in a mausoleum, no escape from his fears. Hope, like fear, was for the weak. He’s built his walls high and Dave took each brick down so lovingly, kissed each one, and built a house for the two of them within his walls.
Klaus wanted to hope so badly that Dave would show up and kiss away the pain.
But, Klaus had learned long ago that hope was just another emotion their father had weaponized.
Even… even if Klaus was able to finally find Dave… what were the chances that he’d still be sane.
As far as Klaus knows, Ben’s one of the few ghosts he’s met who’s actually stayed sane and relatively normal. So, even if Klaus found Dave the likelihood that he was still his Dave was low. Strike one.
And, if he did find Dave -- would being around him without being able to touch him, feel him -- would it drive Klaus crazy? To have the thing he wants most dangled in front of him, tempting him like some purgatorial punishment without ever being able to feel his love again? Strike two.
And, if he did find Dave and he was his Dave, if he could be held in his arms again -- would Dave even want Klaus? Would Dave be proud of Klaus? Because… he’s not so sure.
His beautiful, wonderful, amazing Dave. Who hated the war, but talked so earnestly about fighting for his country. Making his family proud. Showing his mom that a good Jewish boy from nowhere New York could make something of himself and repay the country that had given her so much.
Because… the thing is… Klaus isn’t sure whether Dave would be proud of Klaus hightailing it out of the war at his first chance. Klaus isn’t so sure that Dave wouldn’t see Klaus for what he is. A deserter. A coward. All the words that Klaus never let bury underneath him… Dave could weaponize and destroy Klaus with. Someone who ran at his first chance, who left their brothers-in-arms to die in the mud. Who abandoned their friends to fate. To what? Come back to his family, to his amenities, and mope? Why would Dave be proud of him for that? Strike three.
So, as he’s wont to do, Klaus took the coward’s way out and left his hope bottled up and buried deep. Ben could hope enough for the two of them. God knows how he still had hope left to give.
Klaus looked at Ben and smiled weakly, his search for drugs ending, but not forgotten, “Thanks Benny Boo.”
---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----
Back in the present day marks about two months since Ben and Klaus’ fight. Klaus still hasn’t made much progress (Ben would disagree), but they’ve at least come to a truce. Ben doesn’t use Dave as reasoning for Klaus to stay sober, and Klaus tries to listen to Ben and talk to his family. Klaus still hasn’t been fully transparent with Ben, but godsakes, Klaus needs to have some secrets still.
It’s not a perfect system, but it works for now.
It’s part of the reason the three of them are in Klaus’ room now.
Klaus, and a corporal Ben (thank you very much), were chatting with the family in the kitchen that morning after Luther had made the family eggs. Five had mentioned something about keeping tabs on the commission and Diego had thoughts. When Five, apropos of nothing, mentioned that he wanted to change his outfit.
One could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence.
Luther looked up sharply from his heaping serving of eggs and glanced nervously at Vanya, who shrugged her shoulders with an “I also have no idea what brought this on” face. Vanya, for her part, chose to look down at her eggs instead of broach the subject that was Five and clothes. Allison was busy watching the two interact (Luther and Vanya’s relationship was still shaky at best). Diego caught Klaus’ eye and made a shooing motion in Five’s direction. Weeeeelllll.
“So Fivey, tired of the schoolboy chic?” Klaus asked, manic grin spreading across his face as he pushed his place away and rubbed his hands together “Because do I have so many ideas for you.”
“As long as it’s warm, I don’t really care,” Five noted, head buried in the notebook he was scrawling in, plate of eggs untouched, not paying attention to the slight heart attacks he had given his siblings.
Ben rolled his eyes at Klaus, Five really didn’t know what he was giving Klaus here.
“Warm, check” Klaus noted, miming checking a box with his finger.
“Any other demands?” Klaus jokingly asked, nudging Ben with his elbow.
“No sequins.”
Five snapped his notebook shut and blipped out of the room.
“Wow, ok -- warm and no sequins -- Benji, do you know what this means,” Klaus turned to Ben excitedly, eyes a bit too manic for Ben’s liking.
“Yea, we’re finally going to get Five out of the Umbrella uniform?”
“Oh, dear brother, no, no, no. This means that we get to have a fashion show and boy are there some outfits that I think Five would rock.”
“This can’t end well,” Vanya muttered into her eggs, shaking her head.
“Oh mon frere, that’s where I think you’re-”
“Ma soeur,” Allison interrupted Klaus.
Klaus paused and looked at Allison in confusion.
“What?”
“It’s ma soeur not mon free,” Allison explained as she grabbed her and Five’s dish from the table and brought it over to the sink.
“Ah, well, Vanya and I are brothers-in-arms in our mission to get Five out of his uniform, so it works,” Klaus waved away Allison.
Allison snorted by the kitchen, but didn’t say in response.
“Anyways, ye of little faith Vanny. This will either be a wild success or this house may finally burn down. Either way, a win!” Klaus finished cackling.
Which brought them to now, Five still sat on Klaus’ bed petting one of Allison’s old velvet skirts looking lost in time.
“Yoohoo Five -- hello, anyone home?” Klaus sing-songed, waving a hand in front of Five’s face.
Five visibly jumped, confusion flashing across his face, before settling into a weariness beyond his face’s age.
“I think,” Five started, holding on to the velvet skirt, grip tightening, “I think I like this.”
“Great. I’ve got a few other pieces I think would work well.”
“Allison. You mean, Allison’s got a few more pieces that will work well,” Ben interrupted, unheard by Five. Klaus glared and hissed at Ben, turning back to the closet.
“What did Ben say?” Five asked, toying now with the satin-lining of one of Klaus’ blouses.
“Nothing helpful.” Klaus rolled his eyes, back turned away from Ben and Five as he dug through his wardrobe. He swore he had a pair of velvet slacks in here too. They probably wouldn’t fit Klaus, which was a damn shame, but should fit Five with a little hemming.
Klaus at thirteen was tall and willowy, the tallest of the Academy besides Luther. Klaus had always loved his height. At thirteen, it was something he could lord over Diego and Five. And now, well, now he could grab the sugar from the highest shelf for his tiniest sister, so Klaus continued to count his height as a win.
“So, Fivey, you didn’t really give me a whole bunch to work on. You really okay with whatever?” Klaus asked, voice muffled from inside the closet.
“Like I said before: As long as it’ll keep me warm, Klaus, I couldn’t care less.”
“Really?” Ben replied unheard to Five, “Because he used to always complain how itchy the blazers were. Mom had to cut off any tags, they annoyed him so much.”
“Huh, yea?” Klaus’ head peeked out of the closet.
“I didn’t say anyth--,” Five started, “Oh, can you just make Ben corporeal? I don’t trust you to actually say what Ben’s saying.”
“Well I never,” Klaus scoffed, unfolding from the floor of the closet, hand pressed against his chest in mock shock, walking toward Five, “how could you accuse me of such a thing?”
“I mean, he’s not wrong,” Ben muttered.
“J’accuse!” Klaus turned toward Ben, hand still pressed against his chest in mock outrage.
“Really, I expected this kind of accusation from Luther, but from you, Five… well, no. That’s a lie. I pretty much expected this from you too.”
Five and Ben snorted in unison.
“Ooh, surround sound,” Klaus quipped.
“So?” Five gestured to the room with an impatient look.
“Yea, yea -- don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Klaus took a deep breath, closed his eyes and clenched his fists at his side, face pinched in concentration. His powers were dodgy at the best of times and as much as he laughed any misfires off, it annoyed him. He could begin to feel the tell-tale sign of his power working as tendrils of ice started to wrap around his fists. Scoring on the first try, Klaus thought, as he opened his eyes and glanced over at Ben in triumph just as he felt the cold tendrils fizz out. Klaus cursed, smirk falling off his face, as he cleared his throat, rolled his shoulders, shook out his hands, and tried again. This time sinking into the feeling of being grounded, spreading roots, wiggling his toes on the hardwood floor as he felt the ice enveloped his hands again, this time not taking his mind off the prize.
Too scared that opening his eyes again would cancel out his powers, he kept them closed and asked Five, “Anything?”
“Impressive,” Five remarked as he reviewed Ben, sitting on the top of his dresser.
“Thanks.” Ben chimed, a smirk on his face, as Klaus opened his eyes and shook out his hands. The blue light that signaled his powers were working misting around his unclenched hands.
“This time I was actually talking about Klaus,” Five replied, glancing away from Ben to take in Klaus. Five knew Klaus and Ben were training, Five could tell it was paying off.
“Okay,” Five nodded, setting the velvet skirt aside, “How are you feeling Klaus?”
“Well, I’m a bit peckish--” Klaus began.
“I mean your powers. Do you feel like you’ve made progress?”
“Ah, that,” Klaus sighed, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve, a slight hint that the conversation was veering toward uncomfortable territory, “Benny and I have been training and, I mean, I know it doesn’t look like much, but we’re able to keep him corporal for about five minutes now.”
“Impressive,” Five remarked again as Klaus visibly perked up a bit at the praise, “And, how are you able to keep Ben from phasing through the dresser? Is he able to interact with objects?”
“Huh, great question--” Klaus started.
“‘He’ is right here, you know,” Ben chimed in and Five visibly flustered.
“Wasn’t the whole point of this exercise so you don’t have to talk through Klaus?” Ben continued, a hint of exasperation in his tone.
“Right, right,” Five agreed, clearing his throat, “So, Ben, same question -- how are you able to sit on the dresser and not just pass through the way I’ve seen you pass through walls?”
“Huh, great question,” Ben repeated.
“Great, there’s two of you now,” Five lamented, “Ben, you’ve spent too much time around this dolt.”
“Hey!” Klaus yelled, “I take offense to that.”
Five waved him off.
“So, no ideas?” Five asked.
“I mean… not really. I’ve more or less always been able to do it. Honestly, walking through walls was the hard part,” Ben explained, as Klaus walked over to sit next to Five, crossing his legs, balancing his elbow on his leg, and resting his face on his hand, interest piqued.
“Really?” Klaus asked, “I don’t remember you having any trouble with the walls.”
“Eh, I usually played around with shit when you were sleeping. Only so much of your face I can take in a day.”
“Your loss,” quipped Klaus.
“So,” Five interrupted, “what was the issue with the walls?”
“Oh, well, it’s just… I mean I never walked through walls when I was alive. So, it just… I didn’t think I could do it and every time I tried I got nervous and ended up walking into the wall, not through.”
Five hummed in thought as Klaus laughed, “You mean that you deprived me of watching you run into walls?”
“Yea… there was a reason I practiced on my own.”
“So… walking through walls took a bit of practice, but it was easy to interact with other objects?” Five continued on, ignoring Ben and Klaus’ side conversation.
“It took a little practice and I couldn’t interact with everything, but more or less, if I thought I could do it… I could do it.”
“Elaborate,” Five said.
“Well, I mean, I can sometimes close doors, especially when no one is in the room or paying attention to--”
“How do you know you can close doors when no one’s paying attention?” Five interrupted again, following the thread. Ben perked up a bit, excited to jump into it as Klaus nodded along.
“So, this one time Klaus and this couple were hooking up and it was just getting graphic and--,” Ben stopped short and glanced at Klaus, Klaus nodded, lifting his head up to wave Ben along.
“Well… anyways, they were preoccupied. But, the door was open and it was a small apartment and there’s only so much you can take of hearing your brother… ya know. So, I tried closing the door and well, I did, but it slammed shut,” Ben stopped for a moment and looked up, “Think I scared you all actually.”
“Eh, I don’t think we noticed, a little preoccupied if you get my drift,” Klaus smiled and elbowed Five in the ribs as Five swatted his arms away.
“Yea, exactly,” Ben agreed excitedly, “You guys were so focused on… uh… other things, that I don’t think you even noticed the door close. I tried doing it the next day when you all were in the living room, but someone must have been looking or paying attention or something and I couldn’t. I’ve tried it a couple other times and I think I’ve determined that I’m able to interact with some objects when people aren’t paying attention.”
Klaus glanced over at Five and could see the cogs whirring behind Five’s eyes. Another mystery to unravel.
“Are there objects you can’t interact with?” Five asked.
“I mean… most things. Doors, well like I said. I can usually sit on anything: chairs, bookcases, dressers,” Ben continued, gesturing at the dresser he was sitting on as he spoke. “Err... Books are a hit or miss. Klaus has to like… kill the book for me to be able to read it.”
“Oooh yea, that definitely took some finegling to figure out,” Klaus chimed in as he un-pretzled himself to stretch.
“What do you mean?” Five asked, clearly confused.
“So sometimes, Ben is able to nag me enough and he’s able to interact with things. Like… there was this one time where he kept singing the ‘Song that Never Ends’ for like… three days straight… because he was annoyed that we wouldn’t go see the newest Lord of the Rings movie, ugh talk about a drag,” Klaus explained, boredom dripping from his words.
“First off,” Ben interrupted, “it wasn’t three days straight… it was like maybe a day,” he said as he held up one finger, uncurling a second, “And second, Lord of the Rings is one of the best sagas written. Don’t knock it before you’ve seen it. And if you just would have listened to me, you would have seen an amazing movie and gotten off the streets for a couple hours. So it was a win-win in my books.”
Klaus looked at Ben as if he was crazy, “And spend five hours watching some dwarfs return a ring, no thank you.”
“Hobbits, man, they’re hobbits. I’ve explained this like a dozen times. I’ve read this story out to you at least once. How have you not retained anything? You know, your memory worries me” Ben asked exasperated.
“My memory is perfect, thank you very much,” Klaus sniffed.
“Your memory. Is perfect.” Five repeated, emphasizing the words.
“Yep,” Klaus replied, popping the “p”.
“Last week, I had to remind you that you had already bought the same color yarn. Twice.” Five deadpanned.
“Oh well, those are trivial things,” Klaus explained, “Who remembers how much yarn they’ve bought or in what colors?”
“Me,” Five deadpanned.
“Rhetorical question, mein bruher,” Klaus cooed.
Five looked like he was questioning his entire life as Klaus booped him on the nose. That, or he was figuring out how he would murder Klaus and hide the body without his siblings finding out.
“While this is a riveting glimpse into the thing you call your mind, what’s the point,” Five asked, sounding both annoyed and exhausted.
“Um. The point is. Books. Dead books,” Ben explained, a bit worried by Five’s twitching eye.
Klaus snapped, “Yes! Dead books. So, okay, best part of the Dwarf Ring saga--”
“Lord of the Rings, Klaus, I swear you’re trying to kill me again,” Ben moaned.
“This does not feel like the point,” Five deadpanned at the same time.
Klaus threw a cheshire smile their way and winked.
“--anyways, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Dead books. So, I was trying to compromise with ol’ Benny Boy here, who drives a hard bargain, let me tell you. I, for one, did not want to spend a whole seven hours--
“Two hours. Not seven, two hours” Ben interrupted as Klaus continued without listening.
“--watching trolls try and return a ring to some king. (Ben dramatically moaned, burying his head in his hands) So, I hatched a brilliant plan. I asked ol Benerino whether he would just want to read the books. Which, of course, he did. So, it was my sole mission to figure out how to make it work. I strived tirelessly to understand the metaphysics behind my powers and Ben’s capabilities,” Klaus continued, waving his hands for emphasis as Five watched enraptured.
“Yea, no,” Ben interrupted, “What he means to say is he accidentally set fire to the book he stole from some thrift store when he was trying to light a blunt.”
“Rude,” Klaus gasped, “I was getting to that bit, Ben.”
“I’m sorry -- you accidentally set fire to a book,” Five asked, exasperated.
“Or was it an accident?” Klaus asked, waving his hands in front of his face like magic.
“It was an accident. I clearly remember you yelling, ‘Oh Ben, how could I let you down by *accidentally* burning the one thing you’ve ever asked of me in your entire afterlife.’” Ben replied, deadpan.
“I decidedly do not remember that,” Klaus snipped.
“Case. Point. Your memory worries me,” Ben feigned worry.
“Yea, well an accident that led to our greatest discovery of your ghosty powers yet,” Klaus pouted.
“So you admit it!” Ben exclaimed, pointing a finger at Klaus, “You didn’t mean to light the book on fire.”
“Hey… let me remind you… without that accident, you would have had zero books to read Benji. So I’d be singing a different tune,” Klaus said, crossing his arms across his chest.
“Yea.. okay,” Five nodded, “Want me to leave the two of you alone so you can work this couple’s spat out?”
“No” both yelled at the same time. Klaus’ quip of surround sound echoing in Five’s brain.
“A-n-y-ways,” Klaus said, lengthening the word, “Whether by accident (Klaus shot Ben a petulant look) or on purpose, we figured out that if we killed the book, Benjo here could read it. So, ergo facto, dead books.”
“Interesting,” Five mused, about to ask another question, he snapped his mouth shut when Klaus interrupted him.
“The whole point of this little power show here is because you wanted to know what Ben said earlier, so figure we should get to that before my powers be what they are and poof out of here. Benjamin, the floor is yours.” Klaus gestured to the area separating the three of them.
“Oh right,” Ben took in a deep breath, and Five made a mental note to ask him about breathing as a ghost, surely he didn’t need to breathe, “So, we know you said that you didn’t have a preference with clothes, but I also remember you complaining once to Grace about tags and her cutting them out of your uniform. So, I feel like you’ve got at least some preferences. Do some clothes feel “itchier” or more restrictive to you?”
“I meant what I said, it doesn’t matter,” Five repeated, hands rubbing the discarded velvet skirt next to him.
“What, I think, Ben here is trying to say, is that you do seem to be gravitating to some textures over others,” Klaus clarified, pointing to the skirt as an example. Five glanced down at his fists now clenching the skirt material, quickly letting go and placing his hands in his lap again, clenching and unclenching his fists.
“Very subtle, bro,” Klaus mused, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Five sharply inhaled and clenched his jaw, looking away from Klaus.
Klaus glanced at Ben once Five’s face was turned away, Ben rolled his eyes at Klaus and made a ‘carry-on’ gesture.
Klaus glanced up at the ceiling, lips pursed, and took a deep breath through his nose before nodding and looking back at Five.
“Right,” Klaus said, standing up from the bed, “You know it’s cool if you like skirts, right?”
Klaus waited a beat for Five to answer, when it looked like no response was coming, Klaus glanced over at Ben again before continuing.
“No one cares what you wear, Five. We just want you to be comfortable.”
“And happy,” Ben chimed in.
“Yep,” Klaus agreed, nodding.
“Wh-,” Five began, his voice cracking slightly before he cleared his throat to start again, “Did Ben say something?”
“Oh yea, he said--,” Klaus started, pointing at Ben behind him with his shoulder, before stopping and looking at Five, “Oh you can’t see him anymore, can you?”
Five shook his head, hands clenched around the velvet skirt that had found its way back into his lap, face still turned away from Klaus.
“Yea, he just said we want you to be happy. Happy and comfortable,” Klaus explained.
When Five didn’t respond, only clenched his fists tighter against the velvet fabric in his lap, knuckles turning white, Klaus felt his heart break a little bit.
Klaus knew that Five wasn’t the age he looked. He knew this. Maybe better than any of his other siblings. He knew that what you saw when looking at a body wasn’t always the whole picture. But, in this moment, Five’s face turned away from Klaus, his hands clenched so tight, voice betraying his age, and the slight tremor along his back that Klaus was sure was caused by crying…
In this moment, Klaus could only see his thirteen-year-old brother, the same one who skinned his knee once when the two of them were playing at eight and Klaus could tell Five was trying to keep his tears at bay and told jokes until Five could laugh. In this moment, Klaus felt the same thing he did all those years ago, that it was his job to make his brother happy, and goddamnit, did his brother deserve it.
Klaus crouched down in front of Five, who was still sat on the bed, and placed a hand on his knee.
“Hey, Five, is everything alright?”
“Of course,” Five ground out, voice shaking with barely suppressed tears, his face still angled away from Klaus.
Klaus in that moment flashed back to his argument with Ben. To the feeling of not being in control of his body, of his emotions. He still struggles with his anger. Ben’s helped him understand it could be a symptom of PTSD, whether that be from the war or living on the streets--or hell, even their childhood--he couldn’t say.
Klaus thinks back to how much he just wanted someone to notice him start to spiral again and how much Ben eventually helped him through that.
And now Five seems to be struggling with his own demons, with his own emotions trying to overwhelm his body.
Klaus slowly realizes that he can help Five with more than just clothes.
“You know, you say that. But, for some reason, I don’t believe you,” Klaus joked a bit, nudging Five’s knee with his hand. “I just… Five, I just worry about you. I missed you for so long, and I still sometimes get a jolt when I see you, like I can’t believe you’re here. I know you’ve been through so much, trying to get back to us. And… damn you’re going to make me cry Fivey… I just want you to be happy,” Klaus said, the green of his eyes shining brightly as he glanced up at Five.
“It’s nothing,” Five lied, a faint sniffle betraying him.
“I think it’s something,” Klaus countered, moving positions a bit to sit criss-crossed on the floor in front of the bed, “Do you want to talk about it?”
"No," Five snapped. His head seemed to snap too, twisting around to face Klaus, his cheeks red, eyes wet and determined.
“I just… fuck… I just can’t seem to regulate my emotions in this body,” Five ground out, hand running through his hair.
“Yea, emotions suck,” Klaus agreed, nodding, thinking of the rage buried in his own stomach, “But, sometimes it helps to talk about them. You know, get it all out, so you can breathe again.”
“Wow, how’d you get so emotionally mature,” Ben joked lightly. Klaus wondered if Ben was seeing the parallels between Klaus and Five too.
“Ya know, sometimes I actually listened during those group therapy sessions,” Klaus joked back. Five looked puzzled for a moment before he realized Klaus wasn’t talking to him and nodded.
“What, you? Listen? Never,” Ben deadpanned back.
“Drop dead.”
“Low blow.”
“Anyways, as I’m trying to be a good brother… what I’m trying to say Five, is that maybe it would help to talk about it,” Klaus responded patting Five’s knee.
“I don’t need to talk,” Five ground out, “All this family ever does is talk.”
“Yea, but this time, you’ve got the best listeners in the house, here with nothing to do but listen to you,” Klaus countered. Five turned his face away from Klaus again.
“Ben says that he thinks it would help if you maybe talked about the velvet skirt. You seem particularly interested in it, any reasons?” Klaus asked, ignoring Ben in the background jokingly asking whether it was a sin to put words in a dead man’s mouth. Klaus turned to Ben and hissed at him under his breath.
“She loved velvet,” Five started, voice small.
Klaus whipped his head around from his hissing fit with Ben and stared at Five.
“Holy shit it worked,” Ben said awed.
Klaus shot him a “told-you-so” glance.
“Oh god, shut up, you’re going to be insufferable now,” Ben groaned, “Stop looking at me Klaus and you know… actually listen to Five.”
Klaus waved Ben off, but focused his attention on Five.
“She… this wouldn’t happen to be the indelible Delores, would it?” Klaus asked.
“Sequins were her favorite. She looked amazing in velvet though,” Five continued, either ignoring Klaus or so lost in his memory he never heard him.
“She always told me not to worry about finding her clothes, but I knew she was a fashionable woman. There weren’t many appearances to keep up, but I could tell how much it lifted her spirits when she had something nice to wear.”
“I’m sure she looked lovely,” Klaus noted.
“My god, she did,” Five agreed, sighing, “And, when we danced, the velvet almost seemed to come alive.”
“Fivey, didn’t know you were such a romantic,” Klaus quipped softly.
“I wasn’t, not until I met her,” Five said, “She made me a better man.”
“She sounds amazing,” Klaus sighed wistfully, ignoring the tears beginning to burn at his own eyes, “Tell me more about her.”
“There’s too much to tell,” Five smiled, “She kept me sane. And… I owe her my life.”
Five studied the velvet in his hands, now bunched up in his lap, he smoothed it out and watched as the light caught on the color and prismed.
“You know, I don’t actually know whether she loved the velvet herself or if she just knew I loved the way it felt,” Five mused, continuing to smooth out the velvet in his lap.
“Does it matter?” Klaus asked, his voice wet with unshed tears.
Five looked up at Klaus to see a tear escape his eye and slide down his cheek.
“None of that,” Five admonished, wiping the tear from his brother’s cheek.
“Oh my god,” Ben breathed in the back, “Who took over Five’s body?”
Klaus laughed wetly as Five snatched his hand back.
“Sorry, sorry - Ben just doesn’t know when to stop cracking the jokes,” Klaus explained.
“You’re right,” Five agreed, ignoring Klaus’ last remark and continuing with their previous discussion, “It doesn’t really matter whether Delores actually liked the velvet or not. But,” Five paused and took a deep breath, looking at the velvet in his lap one more time before looking at Klaus, “I think it’s nice. It makes me happy.”
A smile bloomed across Klaus’ face even as his eyes stayed wet.
“Well, there you go, wasn’t so hard was it,” Klaus joked, patting Five’s knee as he stood up.
“Klaus, one more thing,” Five said, as he stood up from the bed as well--the Hargreeves having reached their emotional capacity for the day.
“Yea?” Klaus asked, turning to pop his back.
“I have it on good authority that I look damn good in a skirt,” Five said, holding the black velvet skirt, and blinked out of the room.
Klaus gaped, taking a moment to continue staring at his bed, before he whipped around to look at Ben.
“Was that a fever dream? Or like some drug-induced hallucination? Did I take acid again?” Klaus asked, rapidfire, not giving Ben a chance to answer.
“Yea… No. I mean. No. That just happened,” Ben replied, sounding just as stunned as Klaus.
“Huh.” Klaus said as he started gathering the clothes strewn across his room.
“You know,” Ben mused, “I don’t think you’ll be getting that skirt back anytime.”
“Oh, that thing. No worries, it’s one of Allie’s anyways.”
----
Two days later, Diego almost spit out his water when Five blinked into the kitchen wearing his academy shirt and blazer, and a long black velvet skirt.
When Diego recounted the story to Klaus and Allison later, he let it be known that it was obvious that the skirt wasn’t Five’s. Between the belt cinched in at the waist holding the skirt up and the way the skirt fell to his midcalves… the skirt swamped Five. Diego couldn’t deny… it looked good on him though.
Five turned around at Diego’s sputtering and smirked.
“I like it -- breathy on the bits.”
And blinked out.