A little flicker of irritation and self-hatred builds up in Klaus when Diego says that 'oh' in a defeated sort of voice, and it feels like confirmation of what Klaus had been thinking - that he has no right to be proud of his sobriety, that it wasn't an achievement because he couldn't have done any kind of hard drug even if he'd wanted to. Gnawing on his lip, he looks down at his legs again and exhales a rough huff of breath.

"I didn't drink though." he says, his voice stubborn, "I could have and people offered it to me, but I get self-destructive when I drink so I stuck with weed..."

He's probably just making it sound even less like he accomplished anything, and the bitterness overtakes him for a moment, he closes his eyes and pulls his knees up, wraps the arm connected to his good shoulder around them, making himself more compact. He can tell that Diego's bothered by something, he can hear it in the way Diego says 'what' and then his name, and Klaus glances up at him. Isn't sure what to say, and so he just lets it float past.

Diego's smile is so sad and resigned when Klaus says he wants to stay sober that it leaves him feeling like he's a hopeless case, he remembers being in his room after they'd saved Allison, after Pogo had told him he was too dirty to help his sister, that feeling of no one believing in him or taking him seriously. He does't blame them, but it sure makes it hard to stick to it, no matter how much he wants to, because feeling worthless just makes him want to escape. It's hard to care about what your siblings think of you when you're floating on Benzos.

The pills in his backpack burn at the back of his mind, but he glances up at his brother, "Yeah. I haven't drank here yet either. And they...probably have morphine and stuff here but I don't want to..."

He gestures vaguely with his hand. Doesn't know how to ask if Diego and Ben will be proud of him if he keeps off it here.