[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]

Okay.

[ There is an implicit promise in that small word - that, in the future, when things are bad, he will try to let it be Klaus's turn again. They had leaned on one another equally when they were young, as Ben remembers it. Even in their mid-teens, when Klaus went from being high some of the time to high most of the time, he'd still always been there for Ben if he needed him. It was only after he'd died that things had shifted. He'd never been in danger, never needed anything. And so Klaus had always been the one in distress, Ben had always been the one trying to pull him back to his feet.

He's not sure it's going to be possible, to go back to how it was, as if all those lopsided years hadn't happened. But he's willing to try. At least for tonight.

So when Klaus encourages him to just sleep here, the two of them sharing the bed like they had when they were small, Ben gives a small nod. Even if he hadn't said that many words in total, he feel like he has communicated a lot in the last few minutes, and it's drained him even further. He doesn't say anything else as he kicks off his boots and sinks onto his side, stretching out on the bed on one side.

Klaus had been wise to suggest it. The idea of getting up, choosing one of the empty beds to be his, putting sheets on it, getting the room all set up, and then laying down by himself to sleep for the first time in fourteen years - that all seems so impossibly complicated. But this bed is still warm, already messy, like he's just going back to sleep. Ben exhales long and slow, and there's audible relief in it. ]

These beds are comfier than they look.

[substances]

Good.

[Things had always felt equal to Klaus - or at least not completely tilted in one direction - even after Ben had died. After all, he'd been high enough that he'd left Ben alone for long stretches of time, hadn't been able to interact or help him or anything. And when he'd been sober enough to interact, he'd held books so Ben could read, he'd gone places with him so he didn't have to go alone, and Ben had helped him in return, watched his back on the streets and tried to talk him into making good choices. Obviously, Ben had been putting in more effort on Klaus' behalf than Klaus had been capable of returning, but it hadn't seemed so imbalanced to him.

So now it's his turn to put in more effort, to be the one capable of returning all the effort Ben has put into him for the past decade while Ben is the one struggling. He remembers the drugs in his bag, feels a surge of guilt, because he wouldn't be able to do any of that if he's back on drugs, and he bites the inside of his lower lip.

Focuses on Ben, looking at his face and watching as Ben nods, as the muscles in his face shift with his microexpressions, as the timbre and strength and speed of his breathing alter slightly, as he looks over at Klaus and then kicks off his boots. As Ben does that, Klaus slips off his Converse and kicks them under the bed, shifts to make room for Ben to lie down, and then clambers in behind him, flopping onto his side and resting his head on his pillow beside Ben's. That exhalation of relief and comfort is music to Klaus' ears, and he makes a soft half-laughing breath, lifts his arm and drapes it loosely over Ben's side, so he can't forget Klaus is there even if they're not pressed together body to body.]

Right? I thought they were going to be awful but then they were really nice.

[His voice is soft and a little mumbly, and his hand idly moves against Ben's waist, just reassuring himself that his brother is warm and solid and present.]

This is nice.

[benhargreeves]

[ It is, as Klaus says, nice. Really really nice, in fact. Laying down feels amazing, and the weight of Klaus's arm is a small but constant reminder that he's tangible. Ben makes a small, wordless noise of agreement and spends the next ten or so minutes relaxing, heartbeat slowing, staring into the dim quiet of the still room.

There comes a point when he could, perhaps, have simply drifted off to sleep. After all the chaotic, emotional events of the day, he is worn out. But despite his exhaustion, as his mind is winding down, it snags on an unpleasant thought. An unpleasant thought that he can't push away, that digs itself deeper and deeper, like a splinter, or a fish hook.

Ben doesn't move. He stays where he is, but bit by bit, tension creeps back into his body. Now, not only is he not giving in to sleep, but he is fighting it. The fear is sharp and thin, pinning him in place. He doesn't even know if Klaus is even still awake when he whispers, so quietly: ]

What if I don't wake up?

[ There's no logic to wondering it, of course. No reason why going to sleep would have some special impact. But then there is no logic to why he is alive again in the first place. It had just happened; an interval of unconsciousness that felt like only a second to Ben but that could have been any length of time, and then he was here, alive, breathing. None of it makes sense. He doesn't know how it happened, so he doesn't know how to keep it from stopping. And irrational as it is, all Ben can think now is that, maybe if he goes to sleep, he won't ever ever wake up again. Not alive, not as a ghost. Just - nothing. ]

[substances]

[Klaus had been asleep for hours before this, and now he's lying still thinking about a lot of things - trying to figure out what he's going to do about the drugs in his bag, how to make sure Ben keeps eating and drinking and sleeping, how to make sure he can be the most reliable person he can be when 'reliable' is not something that's really in his bag of tricks. But if anyone could make him try to be, it would be Ben.

He's relaxed, dozing but not asleep as he feels Ben slowly go boneless, hears his breath evening out into sleep breathing. Klaus is about to relax and let himself fall asleep when he feels the tension start draining back into Ben's body, feels his muscles go tight, his shoulders square, his breath shallow and fast and Klaus is about to ask what's wrong when Ben talks.

It's like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over Klaus' head, and he exhales shakily, brows furrowing.

'What if I don't wake up?'

Klaus actually feels his throat choke up, he pushes up on an elbow and scoots in closer to Ben, pressing his body in against Ben's back, burying his face into the back of his neck. He's trembling, a little, but then he makes a noise in his throat, shakes his head.]

You're going to wake up, Ben. Seriously. You are. I'm gonna have a nightmare in about an hour and wake you up and you're gonna be so mad at me because I disturbed your first night of sleep in fourteen years, and then you're going to go back to sleep. And wake up in the morning. And I will find a way to make some goddamn waffles for you here. Okay?

[benhargreeves]

[ Ben lets out a tiny, hiccupy laugh when Klaus says he's only going to get an hour of sleep before Klaus wakes him up with a nightmare. It is easy enough to picture, considering how many time Klaus and his nightmares has distracted Ben from whatever he was reading or thinking about at the time. That mental image helps to edge out the one that had been spinning around in his head before: Klaus, waking up in a bed next to his corpse, touching his shoulder only to find it cold and stiff.

There's no evidence for anything that Klaus is saying. It's just wishful thinking - but his voice is full of a conviction so fierce it is almost like anger. Ben wants to believe it is true. He tells himself that it must have happened for a reason. Whatever had given his body back to him had done so for a purpose. That purpose isn't fulfilled yet. So maybe - maybe he won't die.

Ben can't answer at first; he has to just breathe for a little while, controlling his inhales and exhales, keeping it together, if only barely. Klaus's presence helps, and Ben is glad that he moved closer. By small degrees, the worst of the panic fades, leaving Ben feeling stretched thin, transparent with exhaustion. ]

...Okay. Okay. I'm gonna... sleep, and I'm gonna wake up in the morning.

[ Swallowing, Ben shuts his eyes and tries to empty his mind out, to let it be a complete blank so that he can just get some rest. But nothingness proves ineffective at keeping out thoughts that are intruders. So instead, he casts his mind to the last book he had been reading, back at the house, after the funeral. He runs through all the details he remembers from it, trying to sort out the timeline, remember the names of each of the characters - and eventually, the fatigue wins and sweeps him into a deep and dreamless sleep. ]

[substances]

[The way Ben laughs makes it obvious how affected he is, how hard this is for him. Klaus can basically feel the anxiety rolling off of him, and so he pushes in a little closer against Ben's back, he bends his arm so he can press his palm against Ben's chest. Presses their bodies together so Ben can't forget that he's here and solid and not alone, because Klaus doesn't know any other way to reassure his brother besides angrily insisting he'll be here in the morning and they'll find a way to make waffles.

For a little while, they're quiet while Ben breathes through his anxiety, calms himself down, and Klaus just rubs gentle circles against his chest in an attempt to help him relax.

And then Ben says that he's going to sleep, he's going to wake up in the morning, and Klaus makes a soft noise of agreement and approval in his throat, nods with his face still against the back of Ben's neck.]

Yes, you are.

[His voice is soft. After Ben finally relaxes and Klaus feels his breathing even out, the tension leave his body, he finally manages to calm himself down enough to fall asleep himself.

It's a surprisingly deep and comfortable sleep, most likely because his brother is with him in bed like he had been so many times during their childhood. Because Klaus just always sleeps better when he's in bed with someone else, and it's half the reason he's had so many on-again-off-again boyfriends, so many friends with benefits, all just to have a safe place to sleep and someone to stay in the bed with him.

In fact, it's not Klaus who wakes Ben up with a nightmare an hour or so after they fall asleep - it's the other way around.]

cw for gore

[benhargreeves]

[ Klaus's steadying and warm presence is probably the only reason the nightmare didn't come sooner. Ben had somehow forgotten, how bad they could be sometimes. Nowadays, when he thinks of nightmares, he thinks about Klaus. But, of course, he had used to have them, too.

He doesn't realize it's a nightmare while it is happening. In the dream he doesn't remember anything about being dead, about this new world they are in. There's nothingness, and then he is in that place again. In the dream, his eyes are open, but everything is pitch black, and he knows somehow he isn't blind. He's just in a world without a trace of visible light. There are noises, though. The echoes and the damp tell him it's some kind of cave, somewhere underground and wet, slick and fetid. Everything smells organic - decay, rot, and over all of it, blood. Ben knows the smell of blood so well. He could recognize it anywhere.

His stomach tightens with the recognition, and the awful thing is that in he dream, he doesn't know if it is terror, or hunger. All around him are the slithering sounds of movement. He's never sure if the whispering he hears within it is his brain trying to make patterns out of chaos, or if it's really there. Ben can feel them moving around him. The creatures on the other side of the portal. He is never sure how many of them there are, what they really look like. They could be the size of mountains.

All he knows is they're here and he's here, really here, on the other side of the door. He is amongst them, in their home, tiny and fragile as a mouse. If he moves an inch, makes the slightest sound, they will instantly realize he is there and pull him to pieces. He knows just what it looks like, when they pull a human body to pieces. He's seen it so many times. He knows where bodies will tear when wrenched, which organs will splatter in what ways upon impact. He has seen so many people battered and broken and torn to a pulp. There's no need to imagine any of it.

So he has to stay perfectly, unblinkingly, unbreathingly still. In the dream he can feel tears running down his cheeks. There's a hundred screams bottled up in his chest, but he can't so much as sniffle or it's all over. The pressure of all that terror is unbearable. He feels like he might burst from it. One of the creatures shifts, and in the dark Ben feels it brush against his arm, suckers dragging along his skin, slightly damp. He is going to break. The terror is too much, and he can feel it eating away at the edges of his mind, driving him insane. Maybe it would be better to just get it over with. Cry out and let them end him quickly.

In the bed with Klaus, Ben is not speaking, the way Klaus does in his nightmares - murmuring protests and pleas. He is just as paralyzed as he is inside the dream, still but sweating quite a bit, breaths coming thin and fast and nakedly terrified. ]

[substances]

[Klaus doesn't wake up right away, because the way that Ben acts out his nightmares is different than the way Klaus does. Klaus whimpers and cries out and screams sometimes, but Ben is still and tense and silent, his back all cold sweat and breath coming fast and shallow. If Klaus weren't such a light sleeper, he might have missed it altogether.

But he is a light sleeper, he has been for most of his life, honed by years of sleeping in unsafe places, alleys and strangers' homes and homeless shelters. So when the way Ben rests against him changes, and he feels the front of his body wet with sweat from Ben's back, and hears the change in the way Ben breathes, it stirs him to consciousness. Slowly, he groans and blinks slowly, groggily. At first he can't remember where he is or who he's sharing a bed with, but after a few moments it clicks, and he pushes himself up on an elbow, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes and looking down at Ben.]

Ahhh, shiiit.

[It's soft, a little whimpery, because it's obvious Ben is having a nightmare. His breath is high and thin and reedy and full of terror, but his eyes are still closed even though his body is tense. Ben is freezing in his sleep, instead of fighting or fleeing, and Klaus' stomach does a heavy flop. Leaning down, he shakes Ben's shoulder lightly.]

Hey, hey Ben, come on man, wake up. You're okay, come on. Okay okay okay...come on man, wake up.

[His hands are gentle and careful because he doesn't want to startle Ben awake, doesn't want him to jerk out of a nightmare and feel threatened and afraid and disoriented and open the portal by accident.]

Ben, come on...it's okay, you're safe, just wake up, I got you man...

[Voice pitched careful and soft, he keeps talking in as reassuring a voice as possible until Ben wakes up.]

[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. ]