[open] i'm high, broke, searching for symbols

[substances]

Who: Klaus Hargreeves; OTA
What: just a catch-all for some threads that don't fit in the intro log and an open prompt (might add more later)
When: month of July
Where: various
Warnings: definitely drug use or thoughts of drug use; anything else tba in the subject lines



👻 aspiring horticulturist

It had taken Klaus approximately four days to completely run out of the weed he'd had in his pocket when he came from Hadriel. But since he's not really the type to run rescue missions and doesn't have the technical know-how to fix computers, he's mostly been wandering around the city trying to figure out what he actually can do. Trying to keep his mind occupied now that he doesn't have pot to turn to, trying to keep his mind off the painkillers in his bag back in his room.

When he makes his way to the upper levels, he lifts the bottom of his shirt to hold it over his mouth and nose, because the air up here is awful, and he pokes around a little bit, determined to check out what's going on and get the hell out of here. At least, until he finds the horticultural area. There's a computer there, the screen cracked and flickering, but it seems to be at least a little bit functional. Klaus doesn't know computers, but he's been using a phone since he arrived in Hadriel and that's like a month and a half of experience, so he heads over to the terminal, tapping at buttons under the screen until he figures out which one scrolls through the files of what kind of plants are stored here.

When he hears a sound behind him, he turns halfway to the side, glancing over his shoulder.

"Oh hey, do you know anything about computers?"

Comments

[benhargreeves]

[ Ben doesn't ease out of sleep; one second he is in the nightmare with terror reaching breaking point, and the next he is in a different darkness, and something is touching him. For a moment, in his confused state, Ben thinks it is that same tentacle that brushed against his arm, moving further up, to coil around his neck. He flinches away with a terrified sound, involuntary and entirely too much like an animal startled by sudden pain.

But there is no pain, no wrench, and the darkness here isn't complete. He hears sounds, and it takes a moment for his brain to sort them into words, and then, words he knows, and then, words he knows in Klaus's voice. That is the final puzzle piece that tells Ben he is not on the other side of the portal, not in that cave. Klaus is here and Ben is in his bed and they are in a strange place together and Ben is alive. That is his heart thudding away, his body flooded with adrenaline, covered in sweat, aching from tension.

He covers his face with both hands and sucks in a sharp, shuddering breath. The relief that he is here, and not there, is so profound that he is having a hard time not bursting into tears. The Anchor might be a strange, unknown compound that they were pulled into against their will and are trapped in because of radiation and other assorted dangers, but right now, it feels like the safest, gentlest, best place in the universe. ]

Klaus?

[ His voice is tiny, and Ben reaches out in the darkness, fumbling towards his brother, to feel that he is there and make sure this is real, that he's solid and alive and safe. Here, not there. Now, not any other time. ]

[substances]

[Ben comes back to awareness all in a rush, and flinches away from Klaus' touch. This is familiar territory, and Klaus pulls his hand back, waits a few moments while Ben gets his brain sorted out, readjusts to where he is and who he's with. Ben covers his face and breathes heavily and deeply, that fear breathing Klaus knows so well, both from his own nightmares and from seeing Ben do the same thing when they were kids.

The minute Ben says his name, Klaus rests his hand back against his brother's shoulder, and then moves it to his chest, pressing it over where his heart is, under the ribcage. Ben is reaching for him, then, and Klaus shifts, flops down on his back and pulls Ben against him, rubbing his back and making soft, groggy noises of comfort, pressing his face into Ben's hair.]

It's okay Ben. It's just me. You're safe, okay? I'm here with you, and Diego is here too. We're together again, and we're gonna watch each others' backs.

[Gently, he squeezes around Ben's shoulders, exhales into his hair and makes a little hum of exhaustion and satisfaction.]

Man, I'm so glad you're here.

[benhargreeves]

[ Klaus has practice with grounding Ben after a nightmare, and he clearly still remembers what works. Telling him he's safe, not asking questions or showing distress or concern. Just providing a reassuring steady stream of sound and touch as Ben's body slowly realizes he isn't in mortal danger. Nonetheless, even if logically he knows he is safe now, it takes a while for the physical effects to subside. As far as he'd been concerned in the dream, he had been seconds away from being dismembered. Panic like that has an extended half life. He's shaking so badly it is almost like shivering by the time he can speak, choking out: ]

It was the same. The same dream... the same place I used to have those nightmares about. God, I'd forgotten-

[ All his gentle joking when Klaus talked in his sleep, all the times he'd lovingly bullied him to get more rest... Ben hadn't meant to, but he'd let all those years of being dead dull his memories of just how wretched it could be, to be alive, and full of fear. He should have known better. Been more patient. Taken it more seriously.

He sucks in a breath that is half sob, exhausted, head aching. Had the dreams always been this vivid? Now, again, he is terrified that if he falls back to sleep, he will be there again. The old fear - that it is not just a dream, but something real, a vision, that he could really be in danger - rears its head again.

At least Klaus is here, bony elbowed and too warm and infuriating and unquestionably the best thing in Ben's life. Ben turns, hides his face half in the pillow and half against Klaus's shoulder. If only hiding were a permanent solution. But it is nice, even if it can't last more than a few moments. ]

[substances]

[It's almost like an instinct, how to take care of Ben after a nightmare, doing it is like riding a bike, and even after years of not having to do it, Klaus still knows how. As Klaus drags Ben toward himself and holds him, Ben trembles in his arms, speaks in a choked voice about how it was the same dream he'd had as a kid, over and over again.

Klaus remembers those dreams, remembers night after night of holding his brother just like this as he cried and trembled and fought going back to sleep, terrified. Remembers all the nights that Ben had done the same for him, and when Ben hides his face against Klaus' shoulder, he turns a little so he can put an arm over Ben and rub his back more, presses his face into Ben's hair and exhales into it to add another layer of contact, of warmth, of reminder that he's alive and okay. That he's safe.]

Nightmares suck. Believe me, I know. It's all fake though, that's not...you're not there.

[Not for the first time, Klaus wishes that he knew more about how Ben's powers work, that he knew enough to say something logical and comforting about how he doesn't have to be afraid, but Klaus doesn't know enough to make that kind of statement. So he just keeps rubbing Ben's back and breathing into his hair.]

I'm here, Ben. I've got your back and... [His voice drops down to barely above a whisper, a little hesitant.] I love you. You're not alone.

[benhargreeves]

I thought- I was gonna- die- again.

[ It clearly takes a lot of effort for Ben to get the words out, and he takes the time he needs to say each one, even though his voice is so wrecked with emotion that he's only just comprehensible. Ben had forgotten what it felt like to cry, as a living person. The way his head pounded, how hot the tears were, the choking awful way it crept up on him. He cries almost completely silently - he'd learned that, growing up, and now he wouldn't know any other way. Ben tries to force it down, but the physicality of it, and his overwhelming exhaustion, and Klaus's soft-voiced kindness, are all too much.

It doesn't last long, but for a couple of awful minutes his back shudders with sobs and he keeps his face hidden, ashamed at his own weakness and lack of self-control. Somehow, Klaus's gentleness only intensifies that feeling. When he says he loves Ben, Ben pulls away from him, sitting up cross-legged on the bed and wiping at his face with the sleeves of his hoodie. His tears have stopped, now, but his breathing is still shivery, interrupted by occasional hiccups. Even in the dim light of the room, the redness around his eyes and nose is visible.

He had pulled away not only to recoil from the comfort (though there is a little of that, because being loved hurts) but because he wanted to look at Klaus when he responds. His voice is hoarse from the tears, but there is no longer that bursting pressure behind it. ]

I love you, too. [ Another swipe at his cheek, and then Ben says softly: ] Quit being so- so patient with me. When I've just- all I've been is angry and impatient and judgmental with you for - I don't even know. For so long.

[ It is complicated, and the both of them know that. Their relationship is full of love, but resentment and jealousy and bitterness and regret are marbled through that love. Klaus really could be selfish, unreliable, self-destructive, a genuine piece of shit. But Ben could be judgmental and envious and cold, too. And he's only just now realizing that being dead so long had perhaps made him colder than he realized.

Perhaps, too, there is a part of Ben that struggles with believing he is worthy of any kind of comfort, or reassurance, or kindness. He doesn't deserve that. ]

[substances]

[While Ben tries to speak to him, Klaus keeps quiet, just watching his brother as he struggles to get the words out, to explain that he felt like he was going to die again, as Ben cries and shakes and doesn't make any sound while he does it. Remembers all the times when they'd been kids when Ben had silently cried, hiding in some corner of the sprawling Academy, and Klaus had found him and sat with him. All the times Ben had sat in the tub and tried to wash up, but had been shaking so hard that Klaus had crept in and silently started to help him clean the blood off with a cloth, never saying anything while he helped clean him up. It was one of the few situations during their childhoods where Klaus had ever shut up, honestly, and it had always worked for them. After all, Klaus and Ben have been able to communicate well non-verbally.

So he's quiet again now, just keeps his hand on Ben and rubs his back and makes wordless little noises of comfort, but then Ben is pulling away from him, and he lets go, shifting to give Ben some space. For a few moments, he's anxious because he'd been vulnerable and suddenly he's not sure if Ben is going to reciprocate. But he does, and Klaus sighs as Ben wipes at his face.]

Hey, hey hey hey... [His voice comes out soft and he shakes his head.] Ben, you...I deserved it. It's not like you had a body to stop me from doing stupid shit, but you kept...you didn't give up on me Ben. You're the only one...Diego's been trying, had been trying for the few days before we left, but you've always been there.

[Lifting a hand, he scrubs it over his face and sighs.]

Let me be there for you? What can I do? If...if this bothers you, what can I do?

[benhargreeves]

Bothers isn't the word I'd use.

[ Ben sighs, then, head hanging. It is so difficult, to be loved. He knows that Klaus loves him - he'd never questioned that - but for so many years, there had only been certain ways for Klaus to show that. And the numbness he'd felt as a ghost had kept it from cutting too deep. Now, there is no barrier, and Ben is recalling all over again that restless, happy, uneasy, frightened feeling of receiving love.

Maybe, he tells himself. Maybe if he just tries to practice, it will get a little easier.

So he lays down again, not quite as near to Klaus, but with his wrist deliberately across one of Klaus's, a point of contact, to show that he is okay with proximity. Closing his eyes, yawning, Ben says: ]

I wouldn't have, you know? Even if I hadn't died. I wouldn't have ever given up on you...

[ It's not something he can prove, of course. The truth is Ben has no idea what all their lives would have been like if he survived. Maybe Klaus would have never gotten so far down the rabbit hole of addiction. Maybe Ben would have ended up growing into an asshole like Luther, still so desperate for their father's approval. But he wants to believe his words are true. And he wants Klaus to know that nothing about his loyalty to Klaus has changed now that he's alive again.

Another yawn creeps up on him, and Ben shuts his eyes after, humming a small noise. The adrenaline is sinking away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. He had gotten so little sleep before that nightmare, and his limbs feel heavy as lead. He doesn't want to dream again, to lose awareness, but it just feels nice, to keep his eyes closed for just a few moments. ]