Chapter Text
Klaus had been away from home for . . . three months now? It was definitely colder, so, winter? Yeah, about that range, then. He didn’t care, though. As long as there was money to be had and drugs in his pockets, then he was happy. (Happiness was such a fantasy.)
And anyways, he was being constantly followed around by his dead brother, so . . .
So, yeah.
Ben was a constant in his life after he had died. He was always nagging at Klaus to stop doing drugs and eat more than just a moldy bagel from the garbage and go to rehab or a shelter or something because it's going to get too cold tonight and I don't want you to get sick.
Klaus didn't deserve it, and he knew he didn't, so he pushed Ben away. It hurt his brother every time, but it was better that way.
"Why aren't you haunting one of the others?" Klaus asked suddenly, probably high out of his mind to even remember this conversation later. He slumped against the alley’s brick wall behind him, his black jacket protecting next to nothing from the biting chill. He's gotten used to it now, since he's always been cold. "I'm sure you'd have a much better time following literally anyone else."
Ben folded his arms and gave Klaus a Look. He's been getting better at making Klaus guilty. "You know why I stick with you. You can see me. You can talk to me. Basically, you're keeping me sane."
Klaus rolled his eyes. "As if. I may be able to do those things, but the frustration of me never listening to you must drive you absolutely batty."
"Well, maybe if you just listened once I wouldn't be so frustrated."
"Brother dear," Klaus placed a hand on his heart, "that wouldn't be any fun. Live a little!"
"Says the living to the dead." Ben huffed and shook his head. He was just starting to move on from his death just a few months previous. Of course, it would probably come back now and again when Klaus did something really stupid, but Klaus could make dead jokes now without Ben looking extremely sad and lost.
"But, I mean it." Klaus shuffled from foot to foot, glancing anywhere but at Ben. "You could stay with Allison, who is probably going to rumor her way through acting school once she leaves. You could go to Luther and keep him company, because I'm near positive that he'll be all alone in that cold prison we called a home. And Diego, with his police stuff! Didn't he say he wanted to keep catching the bad guys even after we all left?" He threw out his arms. Ben raised a brow, unimpressed. Klaus looked back down. "What about Vanya? It would be peaceful to follow her, quiet. You'd always have a violin performance before bed. Or Five? I'm sure he's still alive out there. You could go on a journey to find him."
"Why do you want me gone so badly, Klaus?" Ben said sarcastically, but to Klaus’s messy mind he took it seriously. "Do you hate me or something?”
“I don’t hate you, Ben,” Klaus said softly. “I could never hate you. I do want you here.”
“What?” Ben furrowed his brows.
“I just . . .” Klaus thought about what he wanted to say. He knew he could say something to make Ben shrug him off or laugh or really anything, but . . . He wanted to be honest. He was so tired. “I know you and the others don’t like me much, if at all. I’m not really the first choice when someone wants to hang out, you know? I’m a junkie, and annoying beyond belief. I’m there for a pick-me-up, maybe a hug or two, but I’m easily replaceable with . . . I don’t know, a puppy or something.”
“Klaus--”
“So, I thought maybe you’d want to hang out with one of the others, because surely you can’t stand being around me all hours of every day, especially when nothing new happens. Well unless you count the times when I OD, in which case that can get pretty exciting.”
“Klaus, wait--!”
“I’m just saying, Benny-boy, I won’t be changing my lifestyle any time soon. Dad was right: I’m useless and a coward and I have nothing going for me except hospital bills and expenses for a funeral.”
“Stop! Klaus, stop! Please!”
Klaus sucked in a harsh breath, head shooting up to face his ghost brother. Ben swam before his eyes, and after a few blinks he realized he was crying. He didn’t mean to do that.
Ben was crying, too. Ghostly tears tracked down his dark skin. Huh. He didn’t think that was possible. Was it because of his powers?
“Klaus . . .” Ben reached out, but his hands simply passed through Klaus’s arms. The sentiment was still there, even if they both winced. “You don’t really think that, do you?”
Klaus tilted his head to the side and narrowed his hazel eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t really think that you’re . . . useless and easily replaceable and stuff, right?”
The fear in his brother’s voice froze Klaus in place. “What’s wrong? I was just stating the truth, and I really do think you’d be happier around someone else.”
“Oh, Klaus . . .” Ben sniffled and wiped at his face. “This whole thing isn’t just about me anymore. I got really mad at you, at first, for not conjuring me so I could talk to everyone, but I get why you didn’t, now. I get why you do drugs to make the other, nastier ghosts disappear, and why you hide yourself behind smiles and fake laughs to project that you’re okay.” Ben’s anguished face stared deep into Klaus’s soul. “You’re not okay. How . . . Why do you think like that? Don’t you know that it’s all untrue?”
Klaus huffed a short laugh, trying to break the tension a little. It clearly didn’t work. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. “It seems to me that all of what I said is true. There hasn’t really been a moment where I could allow myself to think differently, especially when it came to you and the others.”
With a jerk, Ben pressed closer to Klaus. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you when we were younger. But I’m here now.”
“Only because you claim you have to be, Benny.” Klaus gave a tight smile. Ben didn’t reciprocate.
“I stay because I want to. You’re my brother and I love you. I want to make sure you’re okay, and everytime something bad happens to you I get so, so scared.” Klaus’s eyes widened at the earnestness in Ben’s tone. “I . . . I might be the only one who still cares about you, and that hurts me, but I don’t plan on ever leaving you. So, deal with it.”
Ben finished, a little angry, but mostly determined. He stood up straighter so he was eye level with Klaus. Klaus just stared back in shock, mouth hanging open. Did Ben really stay for him? Why? Klaus was a terrible, selfish person. Ben was the best of them all, too good for the world. And yet, he would stay to be there for Klaus ? Weak, cowardly, junkie Number Four?
That . . . That was too much for him. He didn’t deserve it at all . Living the way he did now, on the streets, with drugs surrounding him nearly as much as the ghosts that screamed and begged and cried at him, was the life he deserved to live. He probably wouldn’t make it to twenty at this rate. Four years was a long time, and with the oncoming winter he was sure he would die before spring came.
But Ben, sweet, caring, loving, quiet Ben, believed he deserved more, that all the things he said about himself were untrue. Ben said he loved him .
Klaus gave his brother a small, genuine smile. “Wanna get waffles near that old motel?”
Ben smiled back, big and loving. “Sounds perfect.”
Sam stuffed his hands into his pockets to keep away the cold. Dean shakily walked beside him out of the airport, most likely still traumatized by the crashing plane. “We are never, ever , doing something like that again,” said Dean. “When I say we take the car, we take the car .”
The younger of the two rolled his eyes and huffed. “Sure, whatever you say.”
“I mean it. And now, I’m 200 miles away from my baby,” Dean said. He took the lead. The plan was to stay at a nearby motel until they got enough rest, then they’d head back for Pennsylvania and pick up Dean’s beloved car.
“The Impala will be fine in the airport parking lot until we get back. They have cameras all over the place, and security.”
“I don’t trust them with her.”
Sam sighed and shook his head. Dean might skip the first part of the plan at this rate. “Come on, let’s just find a place to sleep for a bit, then we’ll head right back. I don’t think it’s a good idea to drive when we’ve had maybe three hours of sleep put together from the last few days.”
Dean still looked keyed up, but he nodded. “Yeah, and I need a burger. Some fries. Milkshake. Pie . Like, three pies.”
With a snort, Sam followed behind his older brother. “Of course.”
Irritation bubbled up in Klaus’s stomach. “I can see the prices right there. It says it’s $29 for one night!”
The man behind the check-in counter raised a brow and gave Klaus another once-over with beady eyes. His combover was unflattering, and if Klaus wasn’t so desperate for him to cooperate, he’d give him a scathing review about his choice in attire. Seriously, who wore sports shorts and a tweed jacket?
“And I told you that the price went up to $80,” the man said.
After the lovely dinner of waffles and more waffles, Klaus and Ben had walked across the street to the cheap motel Ben had insisted he stay at least one night in. As soon as he came in, though, the man behind the counter had frowned and crossed his arms, then told him they raised the prices suddenly. Lies. The motel wasn’t good enough for that much money. It had ghosts crawling through the fake plaster walls and questionable stains everywhere. Not to mention the broken window on the second floor that they had duct taped back together. Yeah, he noticed that, idiots.
“Here, I have $30 and a little bit of chocolate? I bet in a place like this they don’t give you enough money for luxury stuff like this, right?”
“Moron,” Ben said next to him. He pretended to not hear him.
The man’s scowl deepened. He didn’t budge.
Klaus groaned and ran a hand through his curly black hair. “Look, man, it’s just one night! Can’t you give me that much? There’s supposed to be a storm! I have the money, so just--”
“I don’t want your kind in my motel,” he interrupted. He waved a hand up and down at Klaus’s outfit, then gestured to his face. “You’re clearly high, probably a hooker. What age are you, anyway? Fourteen?" He was actually sixteen, thank you very much. "Even if it’s a beat down place, doesn’t mean I want you scampering around.”
Now that was just plain rude. Offended, Klaus pointed a finger at him. “Look here mister--”
“He’s with me,” a voice said behind them. Klaus turned around to see an older man, probably late thirties to early forties. He had a kind smile and a business aura around him. Middle class, maybe? He stepped forward and placed a large hand on Klaus’s shoulder. Ben hissed at the touch on his brother and shook his head as the man gestured with his free hand towards the prices. “One night.”
“I don’t like this, Klaus,” Ben whispered. He nervously shot a look to the man, and back again.
You and me both, bro . Klaus wriggled underneath the hand clamped down on him. It was vice-like in its grip. He swallowed heavily. This was going downhill so fast.
"We don't have any rooms available," Mr. I-Don't-Like-Kids-Who-Dress-Better-Than-Me said. "Not to hookers and their customers."
"I'm not--"
"That's fine," the man behind him cut him off, hand tightening painfully on a pressure point to get him to shut up. Very, very not good . "We'll go somewhere else."
The hand clasped around his bird-like shoulder steered him out of the room. Klaus shot Ben a terrified glance, but his brother couldn't do anything except look just as frightened.
Klaus was led out around the back of the building and into an alleyway. "Ah, I see we're taking the scenic route. Lovely shade of gray, black, and brown down this way. And look! A bloodstain!" He laughed, nerves on fire.
"Klaus, hit him in the balls!"
"I can't hit him from here . . ." Klaus whispered back. The man held him at arm's length and was at least a foot taller than him. Plus, with the tight grip on his shoulder, he could neither run nor escape, and attempting to kick at the man would probably end badly for him.
"Shut up," the man said as he crowded Klaus against the wall, the boy's chest flat against the brick. His cheek was scratched from the rough handling, and he scrambled to get out from the vulnerable position.
"H-Hey, wait a sec--"
"I said shut up!" The roar caused Klaus's ears to ring. He slammed the boy against the wall and Klaus saw stars.
"Klaus!" Ben yelped. He looked furious. If he was still alive, Klaus was sure that he would open his chest to The Horror and splatter this guy across the already stained bricks.
"Please, stop," Klaus whimpered. "Don't."
A large hand tangled in his black curls harshly and pulled his head back, craning his neck at a very uncomfortable position. "You're a druggie, right? I'll pay you handsomely for a good night."
His breath made Klaus want to gag, despite the peppermint filling his nose. Usually, Klaus would lean into whatever touch he could get, no matter how harsh, desperate for it. But right now, all he wanted was to curl up in a warm blanket and listen to music while Ben read in the background. He didn't want this. He didn't want this .
"H-Help!" Klaus shouted. "Help! Please!"
His head smashed against the wall. One, two, three. Warm blood trickled from his hairline into his eyes, blinding him. Darkness crept into his mind and he went limp in the man's arms.
The last thing he saw was Ben's grief stricken and terror filled eyes.
They made it to a crappy motel sometime around ten that evening and got maybe two hours of rest before Dean was shaking him awake.
"Time to go, Sammy," Dean said cheerily, but Sam could hear the anxiousness in his voice.
Sam groaned and rolled over. "C'mon, Dean. Another hour at least."
Dean shoved Sam's blankets off and chuckled. "No can do. I won't feel better until we're back with Baby."
With a sigh, Sam rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat up. " Fine . But you don't get to complain about how exhausted you are while I get to sleep in the passenger seat."
They packed their things and headed out into the parking lot. To their luck, there was a car already on, no one in it.
"Jackpot! Here I come," Dean hopped into the car, throwing his gear carelessly into the backseat.
Sam carefully slid into the passenger seat, head bowed to keep from banging it against the door. He never liked it when they stole things from others, but the person that had left the engine on was practically begging for it to be stolen. Idiot.
Just before Dean drove off, a man in an expensive looking suit exited the motel and spotted them. His eyes went comically wide and he jogged for the car. “Go!” Sam smacked Dean’s shoulder.
Dean didn’t hesitate, peeling from the curb with a squeal of the tires. The man shouted for them to stop! , his arms waving about wildly. They left him behind.
“Dude was a freakin’ moron,” Dean said.
Sam couldn’t help but agree. “Lucky us.”
“Yeah. Lucky us.” Dean patted the dashboard and whooped.
The ride was mostly quiet after that, Dean turning on the radio to a low volume and the expensive car making a low hum as it rolled along. It wasn’t like the Impala, the usual growl of the engine being a comfort to Sam. Instead, it left him feeling unnerved and unsafe. He wasn’t home . It took him a long time to relax enough to fall asleep.
An hour later, Sam sleeping and Dean going at a speed that was far past the legal point, something thumped in the back of the car. The sound startled Sam awake, who looked like he was in the midst of a nightmare anyway, and Dean cursed before pulling off the side of the road.
“What was that?” Sam asked.
“Nothing good, I’m sure. Think maybe the dude we ditched was a vamp?”
“I hope not,” Sam groaned. Great. A victim that they technically just kidnapped. They’d have to drive all the way back and pray the police wouldn’t get involved.
“Only way to find out,” Dean said before he hopped out of the car and jogged to the back. Sam followed at a more sedate pace, wary of what they’d find. Dean already had a weapon ready, just in case, as he opened the trunk.
“What the--”