[ When Diego tells him not to say sorry, that it wasn't his fault he died, Ben gives a small shrug. He appreciates the ferocity in Diego's words, and the sentiment behind them. Because he thinks he knows what his brother is doing. Diego has made the understandable, but inaccurate, assumption that Ben feels like his death with his own fault. Ben can see why Diego would think that. Reginald had taught all of them, again and again, that there was no one to blame for their failures but themselves. If they got hurt, it was doubtless because they'd made an error, or simply weren't good enough. So he gets it, why Diego has made the assumption that Ben is beating himself up for dying. And it's nice. Diego protecting him so passionately from himself - even if it isn't necessary.
Gently, he corrects: ]
I don't blame myself. But gone is still gone, and I am sorry.
[ He does Diego the favor of pretending not to notice that he's fighting tears back. Klaus has always been so free with expressing his emotions, crying included, but Diego and Ben are different. So he feigns ignorance, waits for Diego to compose himself enough to speak.
Ben nods slowly, when Diego explains why he didn't listen to Klaus all those times he talked about Ben being there, or offering his opinion. He had guessed it was something like that. And he knows, too, how much Klaus had strained the others's ability to trust him.
Always one to offer some gentle advice to his siblings, Ben says: ]
I know it's hard, but you should tell Klaus that sometime. About why you didn't believe him, and that you wish you had. I think it would mean a lot to him.
[ Ben knows how hard it is for Diego to express himself earnestly like this - to speak from a place of honesty and vulnerability. So much easier to lash out in anger or frustration or resentment. He knows, from experience, that Diego will have an easier time talking if he doesn't interrupt him, or react in any large way. Which normally would be no big issue.
Except when Diego starts talking about the period right after he died, and then talking about what had gotten him killed. What hits him is less what Diego actually says, and more the sudden worry about what he might ask about Ben's death. Ben only just realized now he might have questions. Want to discuss it. This isn't something Ben has had to worry about, with Klaus. The two of them have had an ironclad agreement - unspoken, unbreakable - all these years not to talk about Ben's death. The fact of him being dead, sure. They even joke about that, all the time. But the event itself? Never.
But Diego doesn't know that. So when he brings up Ben getting killed, Ben drops his head to his knees, hands raking through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. The change, from calm listening to contained distress, is unmistakable. Tightly, he warns: ]
I can't talk about it, Diego. What happened. I know you might want to but I can't.
no subject
Gently, he corrects: ]
I don't blame myself. But gone is still gone, and I am sorry.
[ He does Diego the favor of pretending not to notice that he's fighting tears back. Klaus has always been so free with expressing his emotions, crying included, but Diego and Ben are different. So he feigns ignorance, waits for Diego to compose himself enough to speak.
Ben nods slowly, when Diego explains why he didn't listen to Klaus all those times he talked about Ben being there, or offering his opinion. He had guessed it was something like that. And he knows, too, how much Klaus had strained the others's ability to trust him.
Always one to offer some gentle advice to his siblings, Ben says: ]
I know it's hard, but you should tell Klaus that sometime. About why you didn't believe him, and that you wish you had. I think it would mean a lot to him.
[ Ben knows how hard it is for Diego to express himself earnestly like this - to speak from a place of honesty and vulnerability. So much easier to lash out in anger or frustration or resentment. He knows, from experience, that Diego will have an easier time talking if he doesn't interrupt him, or react in any large way. Which normally would be no big issue.
Except when Diego starts talking about the period right after he died, and then talking about what had gotten him killed. What hits him is less what Diego actually says, and more the sudden worry about what he might ask about Ben's death. Ben only just realized now he might have questions. Want to discuss it. This isn't something Ben has had to worry about, with Klaus. The two of them have had an ironclad agreement - unspoken, unbreakable - all these years not to talk about Ben's death. The fact of him being dead, sure. They even joke about that, all the time. But the event itself? Never.
But Diego doesn't know that. So when he brings up Ben getting killed, Ben drops his head to his knees, hands raking through his hair, rubbing the back of his neck. The change, from calm listening to contained distress, is unmistakable. Tightly, he warns: ]
I can't talk about it, Diego. What happened. I know you might want to but I can't.