Archive of Our Own ^beta

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--”

Chapter Text

Ben could honestly say that the whole night was a terrible ride. He wanted off hours ago--or, well, wanted Klaus off of it hours ago. Nothing was really happening to Ben since he was dead. Details.

Before things went to hell, they had a conversation that Ben didn’t know they needed, then had a lovely dinner of waffles and way too much whipped cream. That was all fine and good, and he got to laugh at his brother when he got syrup on his “nicest pair of pants, stop laughing Ben!”. He honestly thought that the night was one of the best they had had in a long time. Then it spiralled out of control.

Seeing his brother so scared and acting like he wasn’t while in danger made Ben want to cry. Seeing his brother get beaten to the point of unconsciousness and possibly gain serious brain damage was most likely the scariest thing to happen to Ben, and he had lived with monsters in his chest for fifteen years. Seeing his brother stuffed into the back of a car and trussed up like a prized pig made his anger flare like never before. If he was still alive . . . If he was still alive!

That was the problem, wasn’t it? He was dead and couldn’t do a thing to help his brother. All he could do was spectate from the sidelines and beg for Klaus to please wake up, you need to fight back! You need to run!

He thought Klaus was going to be kidnapped by that man and have terrible things happen to him. He thought Klaus was going to be joining him way too soon in the afterlife, which was something Ben refused to have happen (he’d find God or the devil or whoever was in charge of that stuff and give them a piece of his mind).

He thought a lot of things, none of them good things, and all of them ending up with Klaus having a much messier fate than Ben, which is saying something.

He did not expect two other men to steal the car Klaus was trapped in and drive off without the business man.

“Klaus, you gotta wake up! You’ve been kidnapped from the kidnapper!”

Klaus didn’t respond, hands duct taped behind his back and his mouth taped shut. His head bled sluggishly, and detachedly Ben wondered if Klaus would complain about his ruined makeup once he woke up.

“Klaus.” Ben reached out to shake him, but like every other time, his hand just went through. “Klaus, please.”

Ben was laid down next to Klaus in the trunk, half of his body in the trunk and the other half in the back seat of the car. Other than the steady breaths of his brother and the quiet rock music playing from the front seat, it was quiet. The trunk was musty and smelled like gym socks, which Ben was sure Klaus would not appreciate.

The two new men, one with long shaggy hair and the other short and bow-legged, didn’t know that Klaus was in the trunk, that much was obvious. They stole the car out of luck, both for them and Klaus. Now if Ben could just get Klaus to wake up he could get him out of this situation . . .

“Klaus--”

Klaus’s eyes shot open and he let out a soft grunt of alarm. Ben instantly leaned further into his brother’s space, letting Klaus see him. “Klaus! It’s me, it’s Ben. Can you hear me?”

Klaus’s unfocused eyes rolled over to Ben’s face, which he counted as a win. Ben smiled tightly. “Hey, man. You with me?”

His brother blinked lazily at Ben, blank and struggling to understand. Blood dribbled from his brow and fell into one of his eyes. He winced and became a bit more aware. Ben could see the moment he tried to say his name, and when fear clouded his face as he couldn’t.

“Klaus, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Klaus let out a grunt and shook his head, eyes desperate. And, yeah, okay, Ben could see that this was definitely not okay, and who knows how long Klaus would be mentally sane and what if he was trapped in here for hours and hours and Ben could only watch as his brother slowly died from dehydration --

Ben took a calming breath he didn’t need to actually take. He needed to stay calm and collected for his brother. No sense in them both panicking. “Klaus. I need you to make noise. The guys in the car don’t know you're here. They stole the car. They might be able to help you if you make enough noise.”

Klaus slowly shook his head, laying it back down. He seemed completely exhausted, and Ben was nervous he might pass out again.

“Please. Once they hear you, you can lay down in the back seat and it won’t be as cramped or dark.”

Klaus whined, his breath picking up as he noticed how dark it really was in the trunk. How enclosed it was. Muscles tensed and legs jerked out against the walls of the small space.

He only managed to make a loud thump before he groaned and fell limp again. His eyes rolled around unseeingly.

"Okay, that's fine, you're fine. I'm sure they heard something--"

The car came to a halt and Ben grinned. "Yes!"

Two doors slammed and light footsteps rounded the car. Ben kept a constant hand on Klaus, except that neither could really feel the other and it was more of a hover just above his shoulder. Klaus seemed to calm slightly at the action anyway.

Anticipation for the trunk to open had Ben tensing and holding his breath, both of which he couldn’t actually do. If he still had a heart, he's sure it would have been thundering in his chest.

The door flipped open to reveal the shorter of the pair holding a huge hunting knife that glinted in the moonlight.

Ben chilled at the sight and shouted at Klaus, "Klaus! You gotta run!"

Klaus's eyes were closed and he remained completely lax. He had passed out again.

Horror washed over Ben. No way. Not now. He had to wake up. He had to get away! "Klaus! Klaus!! KLAUS!"

"What the--" the man switched the knife to his other hand and lurched forward. Ben had a moment of terror, throat closing and tongue tying as he made an unflattering noise akin to a protest. But the man only placed his fingers against Klaus's pulse point. Both relaxed.

"We have an unconscious teen in our trunk." He stood back up and tucked the knife away. "Taped up like a mummy. It looks like he's got a nasty head wound."

"Really?" The other man came into view. Ben noticed how he stayed behind the smaller man even as curiosity made him draw closer. “Oh . . .”

“Yeah. Guess the vamp theory was correct.” Ben had no idea what that meant, but he was just relieved that someone was able to help. The smaller man leaned down to lift Klaus from the trunk. He was most likely expecting a lot more weight, because he stumbled back as Klaus’s small frame easily came with him. “Jeez, when’s the last time this kid had a hamburger?”

“See, Klaus? I’m not the only one that knows you need to eat more,” Ben mumbled. A lot of the cash that Klaus had immediately went to drugs. The few bills that didn’t usually went to anything else, whether that be a warm meal, a new coat, or somewhere that he could hunker down for the night. Ben, more than a few times, has begged Klaus to use the money he had to pay for both a meal and a place to stay.

Well, and look how that turned out. Guilt gnawed at him. Klaus wouldn’t be in this position, wouldn’t even be hurt like this right now if it weren’t for him. If he hadn’t nagged at Klaus to stay at that motel, then his brother might be okay huddled near a dumpster or something.

That still sounded terrible.

Ben wished he hadn’t died, for most likely the millionth time in so few minutes.

He was shaken from his thoughts when the trunk was closed. With a sigh, he sat up so his head poked out. He watched as the two men hovered over his brother.

“We should take him to a hospital," the taller man said as he pulled out his phone. Ben tensed again. That was a very not good idea.

But . . . Klaus was really hurt, and he didn’t know just how much. There could be brain damage. He bit his lip. The possibility of an overdose was high if Klaus went to the hospital. Brain damage, or overdose?

"Good plan,” Dean said. He began removing tape from around the teenager while Sam called an ambulance. He kept checking to make sure that none of the tape had hidden wounds underneath that were being held together with the flimsy adhesive.

The black jacket the teen wore was covered in dried blood that cracked and flaked off as he moved him around. Curly black hair clumped where the head wound was still slowly leaking blood. His ripped jeans, which left hardly anything to the imagination, were ridiculously small, almost like a child’s, but seemed to fit near perfectly.

“Jeez kid . . .” Dean shook his head. Once the tape was fully removed (he bet that it was just a precaution--the kid probably could have ripped through it easily enough if he wasn’t out of it, despite his thin arms), Dean rechecked his pulse. The steady thrum of it under his fingers made him smile softly. Kid was a fighter.

“Ambulance will be here in a few,” Sam said. Dean looked up as his little brother knelt beside them, his hazel eyes narrowed on the kid’s head wound. “Took a nasty hit. Not from any kind of weapon, though. Wall?”

Dean shrugged. “Most likely. Not a vamp’s usual go to, but maybe he was fighting back with all he had.”

“You think he’s capable of that?” Sam frowned. “He’s really small.”

“Maybe he was thrown back into it.” Dean shook his head. “Look, doesn’t matter. Can you hand me a bandage or something from the bag? I wanna stop the bleeding, but I’m also going to keep a finger on his pulse in case it fluctuates.”

Sam nodded and stood back up. Dean sighed and scrubbed at his face. This was going to be a really long night.

Ben didn’t like that he had to squish in the corner of the ambulance once it got there, especially since he was partly inside of someone else. It felt wrong , almost like he was touching another spirit but not. When he touched other spirits, it was like when he was alive and could interact with real things. With this, it was like . . . squishy. Like there was a layer between them, but he could still feel it.

He was immensely grateful when he could get out of there. He shook himself off like a dog and briefly noticed that the woman he had been sharing space with stopped chattering her teeth. Klaus always did mention how the dead were freezing.

“Sorry lady.”

Ben followed the group that wheeled his brother inside, not wanting to leave his side for a second. The hospital seemed low budget and was smaller than anything he had seen on TV. Klaus hated the hospital ( “It’s so loud in hospitals, Benny. Why would I want to deafen myself along with whatever ails me?” ) and usually revived from an OD while on the way, so Ben never really got a good look at one before. He’ll admit, it wasn’t exactly what he had pictured.

The walls were white, the floors spotless, while the air smelled of antiseptic and rubber. Klaus was carted off behind a set of double doors that sealed off as soon as the group was through. He was left in the tiny waiting room with a receptionist behind a bulletproof glass window, and the chairs looked extremely uncomfortable. He phased through the double doors.

The rest of the hospital was standard. It had several rooms for patients and an ICU. Lights buzzed overhead and a few flickered as he passed them.

Klaus's room was nice. He was the only one in there, and as the doctors worked, Ben was able to get a good look around where his brother would be staying. There was a window on the far wall with a great view of the parking lot and a tree smack in the middle. It didn't look like it opened (but leave it to Klaus to still find a way).

All that was left to do now was wait.

Dean was sick of waiting. Shouldn’t the kid be done yet? It had been over an hour since they wheeled him behind the double doors and no word. He was getting anxious.

Anxious to hit the road. Anxious about the kid and what happened. (Anxious that his dad hadn’t contacted them in a long time.)

“Dean, would you just sit down? Your pacing isn’t helping,” Sam grumbled. No wonder he was grumpy. Those seats looked terribly uncomfortable.

“Can’t. Too much energy.”

Sam groaned. “You’re making me nervous! Just--”

“John Doe?”

Both men looked up at the new voice. A doctor smiled stiffly their way and gestured for them to follow him. He had brown scruffy hair and a mole under his nose, and carried himself with a purpose.

“He was pretty roughed up when you brought him in,” the doctor explained. “Concussion, major head wound, lacerations to his face and arms, and some fingers damaged from attempting to fight back. We patched him up and gave him a blood transfusion, and he should be fine as long as he wakes up within the next twenty-four hours.”

They nodded along to what the doctor said, but Sam piped up at the end, “Did he have any marks on his neck? Like puncture wounds?”

“What department did you say you were from again?”

The two showed their fake IDs they still had with them from the plane accident. The doctor hummed and gestured into the room where the kid rested.

His head and arms were covered in bandages, but his eyes were closed in a seemingly peaceful rest. His curls stuck up past the bandages in a chaotic mess.

“No puncture marks, just some scratches. May I ask why you ask?”

Dean shook his head and turned back to the doctor. “We’ve seen a few cases that were similar. The one who keeps doing it leaves puncture marks on the neck, like a signature.”

Sam gave him a Look, and Dean shrugged in response.

“I see. Scary.” The doctor shook himself and gestured to the boy. “Well, luckily, none of that.”

“Thank you for your help, Doctor . . .?” Sam trailed off.

“Schuett.”

“Doctor Schuett.”

Schuett sighed. “Stuff like this makes me so sad. He’s still a minor, not even old enough to make life changing decisions yet. We’re hoping he stays asleep through the withdrawal, but if not it would be beneficial if someone he knows is close by to watch over him.”

“Withdrawal?” Dean’s brows raised.

“You didn’t know? I thought that was how you found him.” Schuett pursed his lips. “Yes. He was on several different drugs that would put a normal teenager in the hospital ten times over. He must have been doing them since he was young. Or, well, younger. He was probably in the middle of a dispute over money when you found him.”

The brothers glanced to each other. What the hell had this kid gone through?

“Well, thank you for answering all of our questions, Doc,” Dean said. He gave the man a smile before seeing him to the door. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to stay here and interrogate him when he comes to.”

“Page either me or a nurse when he does. We need to check first if he has any memory problems.”

“Promise we will,” Sam said.

With that, Dean closed the door firmly, then locked it. He checked out the small window to make sure they weren’t being listened to and turned to his little brother.

“What the hell?”

“I don’t know!” Sam threw his hands up. “Vampires go after homeless people a lot, but drugs? And tying them up to throw them in the back of a car? This is super weird, Dean.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Dean flopped into a chair by the hospital bed. “Should we stick around until he wakes up? Make sure he gets home?”

“Of course we should,” Sam said. “He was kidnapped and beat up. And then kidnapped again accidentally. We may not have intended it, but he’s our responsibility now.”

Dean groaned and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling. Popcorned stucco stared back at him. “My baby is going to go another night without me.”

“You’ll survive,” Sam scoffed.

Vampires. The tall one just said vampires . That’s what they meant? Ben stared at them with wide eyes. They believed that vampires existed and that one of said mythical creatures had tried to . . . well, do something to Klaus. Hurt him? Eat him? Kidnap him and make him into a vampire too?

Ben had seen a lot of things, crazy things that couldn’t be explained by science. But vampires ? What? He had monsters that came out of his chest, but these guys were nuts .

Not to mention the fake IDs they both used to get in. FBI agents? As if! They stole a car, firstly, and secondly they had FAKE identification! These two were bad news.

“Klaus, as soon as you wake up, we’re getting the heck outta here . . .”

That’s when Klaus decided to scream.

Chapter Text

The kid started screaming. Sam had no idea why, but the pain and pure terror he heard in the boy’s voice shook him to the core. Images from his nightmares flashed before his eyes, the kid’s screams matching someone else’s. Someone he could never forget. Someone he could never apologize to. Someone he desperately wanted to see, one last time.

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

The teen on the bed was replaced with a blonde woman on the ceiling. Blood dripped from her middle onto his cheek. Drip, drip, drip . Her face was frozen in shock and pain, mouth moving but words unspoken.

Why, Sam? Why, Sam? WHY, SAM?

He could have saved her. He could have told her. He could have, he could have, he could have .

Your fault, your fault, your fault .

He choked on the smoke, the flames engulfing her. He couldn’t move to help. He couldn’t breathe .

“Sam!”

With a gasp, Sam came back to the present, Dean throwing him a concerned glance. 

Sam blinked at his brother. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused his eyes fully on Dean. His older brother gave him a tight smile.

"Help me with him, yeah?" Dean asked as he rounded the bed. Sam nodded without a word, feeling childish and ashamed. Shoving aside the pain and hurt and guilt for another time, he followed his brother's lead.

The boy began to thrash on the bed. Dean leaned down to restrain his arms so he didn't hurt himself. "Grab his legs!"

Sam did as instructed, the last of the memories fading as he focused on his task. The kid was stronger than he looked, and small enough that he could slip out of grips easy unless one were to hold to the point of bruising.

"STOP! NO!" the kid sobbed. "PLEASE! BEN!"

A blue haze filled the room, gradually growing brighter and brighter. The boy's arms glowed the same sky blue, his veins pulsing the color under translucent and feverish skin. The temperature of the room dropped drastically, Sam being able to see his breath misting within seconds.

Moans filled the air, the sound of agony and need overwhelming Sam. He flicked his eyes to the corner and froze at what he saw.

Hundreds. Thousands. An amalgamation of dead. So many ghosts that they were crawling over each other to get to the bed. They're outlines were that same sky blue. Sam felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him dizzy.

A look at Dean told him his brother was just as pale.

The kid shot up, eyes wide and searching. For what, Sam hadn't a clue. He and Dean removed their hands as if burned.

The boy relaxed slowly once he found what he was looking for. "Ben . . ."

Just like that, the ghosts vanished in a puff of smoke, the kid's arms returning once more to their natural color.

"What . . . the hell?"

So loud. So LOUD. STOP! STOP SCREAMING AT ME! PLEASE!

Klaus. Klaus! KLAUS! KLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKLAUSKL--!

“STOP! NO!” Something was holding him down. Suffocating him. Dark, so dark! “PLEASE! BEN!”

Cold, so so cold. Hands grabbed at him. He felt them .

Panic seized his chest and he pushed against the iron grip that held him down, clawed at him, refused to let go . He thrashed and screamed and cried.

"Klaus!"

Ben.

His eyes shot open to horrid faces and wailing specters. Hands, so many hands, reaching for him and begging for him to help, please help . But he can't help, he can't do anything, stop stop stop. Their screams mirrored his, trying to be louder, trying to be heard. Blood oozed from wounds, vomit dripped from chins, broken limbs and necks and spines stretched at his awakening, and eyes that remained dark and soulless were zeroed in on him and no one else.

"Klaus!"

Ben .

His eyes fluttered about the room, trying to spot his brother amongst all the deaddeaddead . There were so many. Too many. Cold and dead and gore and pain and dark --

"Klaus!"

Ben!

With a gasp, Klaus sat up, the hoards of the dead backing up and the hands clasped to his arms falling away. His eyes locked directly onto his brother's, Ben's dark (so dark, where's the lights?) orbs filled with relief as soon as he looked to him.

“You’re here with me. They can’t hurt you. They can’t touch you. I’m here and I won’t ever leave you.”

Ben’s litany of reassurances and soothing words slowly helped Klaus reorient himself. With his brother’s help, he got his breathing to a natural rhythm and started to notice the world around him. A hospital bed. A hospital room. Hundreds upon hundreds of ghosts murmuring in his ear. No wonder it was so loud .

"Ben . . ." Klaus breathed. His anchor. His brother. His best friend .

"Klaus. Hey, man. How do you feel?" Ben came closer, the other ghosts giving him a wide berth. They could sense the other worldliness about him.

"Like I got hit by a truck," Klaus answered with a grunt. He reached up to feel something soft surrounding his head. "Why does my head hurt?"

Ben tutted, hands reaching out uselessly in an attempt to stop him from poking at his head. "Careful, you don't want to disturb your bandages."

Klaus's eyes met Ben's once more. He frowned when he noticed the tight lines around Ben's eyes and the way he pursed his lips to the point they nearly disappeared. Something shifted beneath his brother's clothing. The Horror .

"Something's got you spooked. What's wrong?"

Ben glanced at him with haunted eyes. "You . . ."

Something scraped along the ground, drawing away Klaus' attention. Two men pulled up a chair on either side of him, one with shaggy hair and the other with a leather jacket.

"Explain," Leather Jacket demanded.

He honestly hadn't seen them, thinking they were some of the ghosts. They were real people, which meant that they heard him screaming, which meant they saw his panic attack, which meant they saw him talking to Ben.

Who were they? And why were they in his hospital room? He unconsciously tucked his head into his chest and pulled his legs and arms closer to his body.

“They’re the ones who helped you,” Ben explained. “They brought you to the hospital to treat your wounds.”

“Oh . . .” Klaus straightened but didn’t stretch out his legs. Instead, he tilted his head to regard them carefully. “Thanks for helping me, I guess. Explain what?”

“Who’s Ben?” Leather Jacket asked.

"Uh . . ." Klaus's eyes flicked to his brother, but Ben just fiddled with his jacket sleeves.

Leather Jacket sighed and snapped his fingers in front of Klaus’s face. Klaus blinked, startled by the action. “Okay, how about the reason behind you shrieking like a little girl into consciousness?”

Klaus scoffed. "Like I'd tell you that. You'd lock me in a crazy bin."

"Try me."

Klaus stubbornly remained silent, but with a sigh from Ben he frowned. "They already saw. Might want to tell them." He shrugged.

Klaus furrowed his brows. "Saw what?"

Ben shook his head. "I'll tell you later." He tucked his lower lip beneath his teeth, slender fingers tying themselves in knots in the nervous habit he never grew out of. He looked guilty.

Klaus did not like that.

Leather Jacket and Long Hair were still looking to him expectantly, but their eyes flicked to where he was looking at Ben every few seconds.

"Can you see the dead?" Long Hair asked bluntly.

That completely shocked Klaus. "Well, that came out of left field."

“They believe in vampires, Klaus,” Ben piped in.

“Wait, seriously?” Klaus tilted his head at his brother, eyes still on Long Hair.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Long Hair went on. He couldn’t see his brother, no way. His eyes were just a tad off. Highly superstitious, though.

Leather Jacket spoke up, “Not only that, but you can summon them?”

Klaus hunched in. “Uh . . . more like they find me. Honestly, if I could, I would just never have any of them bother me, ever.” He grinned at Ben. “Except for you, of course, Benny-boy. You’re the best ghost ever .”

Ben rolled his eyes fondly, sighing in exasperation.

“So, you admit it.” Long Hair nodded, looking pleased at having guessed right. “What was that earlier?”

“And who is Ben? You were screaming his name.”

“Mein bruder,” Klaus answered honestly. “And I get nightmares a lot, terrifying ones that are hard to get out of even when awake.” He fiddled with the paper thin sheets. Doesn’t help that the nightmare doesn’t ever end. He smiled bitterly.

The men looked at each other, communicating with their eyes. Which, that was so cool. “We need to learn to do that too, Ben!”

Ben just gave him a Look.

“Well, yeah , I can read you , but how do I know you can read me just as well? You and your ghostly brooding, I doubt you have time to notice all of my flawless features.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “You think me being stuck with you for months on end doesn’t already make me an expert on you?”

“Or, even better, we should learn sign language and mess with people.” He cackled.

“You already know, like, ten languages,” Ben said. Klaus could see the interest. “Why would you need to learn another?”

“Think of all the stuff we could get into. I bet I could get away with driving if they think I’m deaf,” Klaus shrugged. “It’s already half true, most of the time.”

Long Hair coughed, effectively drawing Klaus’s attention back to them.

“Yes?” Klaus fluttered his eyelashes. These two were exceptionally hot, no one could judge him on that.

Long Hair just raised a brow. Bummer. “So, your brother is here? And dead?”

“Exactamundo, big guy.”

“And he doesn’t, I don’t know, have anything else to do other than follow you around?” he asked. “Like, exact revenge or tell a loved one he’s sorry he’s gone?”

Klaus quirked his lips and lowered a brow. “What? No.” He chuckled, which grew into laughter. “No! Ben is the best out of all my siblings, no way he has any revenge plots.”

“Actually . . .”

Klaus just laughed harder, Ben joining in. “Good point, Ben, but I think we all want dad dead, so . . . not exactly special there, hm?”

“You want your dad dead?” Long Hair asked. One side of his lips tilted up so hard in disgust that it made his nose scrunch.

“As for the other thing, I’ve asked Benjamin the same thing,” Klaus said, rolling on past that last question. “He’s informed me that he literally can’t do anything without me, and that he loves me way too much to just ditch.”

“I did not say that, you ass,” Ben huffed. “And like I’ve said a hundred times before, Benjamin isn’t my name .”

“Not in so many words, Benny.” Klaus blinked. “Wait, it isn’t?”

Ben sighed heavily and Klaus’s lips curled like a cheshire cat.

“He really didn’t do all of . . . whatever that was earlier?” Leather Jacket asked.

“Gonna have to be more specific there,” Klaus said.

The men had another silent conversation. Long Hair scooted closer to the bed. “So the blue haze, the wailing hoard of ghosts, the blue pulsing in your arms . . . That was all you?”

Klaus’s eyebrows raised to his hairline. “Exsqueeze me, but what?”

Watching the kid have a one sided conversation was equal parts weird and entertaining. He seemed to be a ball of anxious and excitable energy, hopping from one point to the next faster than a rabbit. Whatever Ben said on the other end of the conversation just fueled the ramblings. It was cute.

Doesn’t mean it didn’t get annoying very, very quickly.

Sam was a straightforward person. Sure, he had more patience than Dean, and was usually able to get people to answer honestly to them by being sympathetic, but this kid . . . it was almost as if he was purposefully pushing buttons, testing boundaries. Possibly steering the conversation into his favor. Sam had to try really hard to stay focused on the point.

They touched something here, though. Sam glanced to Dean, who had straightened at looked back with wide eyes.

“Yeah, the freaky blue glowing stuff around your hands,” Dean eloquently put. Sam wanted to bury his face into his hands.

The kid just turned to his brother with a blank face. “Blue . . .”

He stopped, head just the slightest inclined. His brother was saying something to him. After a few seconds, his already pale face paled further, then went green. Sam stood, quickly grabbing a nearby trashcan just in case.

“I . . . What?” the kid gripped the hospital sheets to the point that they squeaked.

He listened again, breaths coming in quicker the longer the silence lasted.

“No. That’s impossible,” he denied. “I would know! I would . . .” His mouth dropped open, lips trembling, and no words escaping. “I don’t . . . Did the drugs . . .?”

A sharp inhale jerked him backwards.

“How? How, Ben?” His whispers sounded like a plea from a convicted man. He gasped and his hands flew up to his hair, yanking at the dark strands. “Oh no. No no no no no--Ben! Wh-What if dad finds out? He’s gonna--! I’m gonna end up--!”

The teen began to hyperventilate, eyes wide as he scrambled at the sheets to escape. “I gotta go. I gotta get as far away from here as possible. I gotta--I gotta--I just gotta--!”

“Whoa!” Dean lurched forward and grabbed the teen’s arm to keep him from moving. “Hold up, shortstack. You’re still hurt.”

“Let me go!” he shouted. “L-Let me go!”

The blue began to creep back into his arms through his veins. It looked like it was stemming from his heart. Sam narrowed his eyes.

“Stop! No! Not again!”

The wails picked up again.

“Dean! Let him go!” Sam grabbed his brother’s arm. “Give him space.”

Dean backed away, the kid falling to the floor in a heap. Shaking and crying, he didn’t attempt to move again. Rather, he curled tighter into himself and rocked back and forth. Sam’s heart twisted.

A blue form crouched beside the kid, vaguely in the shape of a person. “It’s okay, Klaus,” it was saying. “You’re okay, I promise. They can’t hurt you. Dad can’t hurt you. He’s not anywhere near us, and he won’t be any time soon.”

With a start, Sam realized the figure must be Ben . He took a small step back, mind boggled. This kid-- Klaus . . . just who was he?

“Dean, go get the salt.”

Chapter Text

“Watch him,” Dean ordered his younger brother. “If they ,” he pointed to the hoard, “get too close, protect him.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, Dean. I know what I'm doing."

He smirked at his brother. "May not be a little kid, but you're a little bitch."

"Jerk."

Dean's grin widened and he slapped the doorframe twice on his way out. His good mood deflated as he came across a doctor on his way down the hall. Klaus's doctor.

"Ah, hello," Schuett greeted as he put his clipboard down. "Has John Doe woken yet?"

They must not have heard the screaming. Stellar performance, these guys. "Nope, not yet."

"I see," Schuett pursed his lips. "Well, I was just on my way to check on his vitals--"

"Actually," Dean said, throwing an arm over the man's shoulders and leading him further from the room. "I have a question. It's about this weird skin thing on my back. My friends say that it could be cancerous, but I don't really believe that . . ."

Ben huddled in close to his brother, praying that his voice would be able to reach him. Just before he tried a different tactic, this one insults, the living man with shaggy hair spoke up. Ben's hackles raised.

"Ben? My name is Sam Winchester." He knelt down to be at eye level with the brothers.

Ben gaped. Right. He wasn't used to people addressing him anymore. Unless it was Klaus, of course. So these two believed Klaus? That was a refreshing change, to be honest.

Then Sam's eyes locked directly onto his. Ben sucked in a sharp breath.

"I need you to snap Klaus out of his attack. The ghosts are getting agitated because he is. I think." Sam's eyes flicked to Klaus, then back to him. How was this possible?

Oh . It's Klaus . Klaus and his new powers . Wow.

Excitement fluttered in Ben's non-existent chest. If other people could see him . . . Could his family see him too? Would he be able to talk to them? Would they be able to see him?

The possibilities were endless, swirling around in his mind like a whirlpool.

A sudden jerk from Klaus snapped him out of his thoughts, his imaginations vanishing in a flash. Right.

"Hey, Klaus, this guy thinks he can boss me around," Ben chuckled. It was hollow. "Sucks that I'm dead, otherwise I'd show him that nobody messes with me, right?"

Klaus rocked back and forth, but the soft tilt of his head in Ben's direction gave him hope.

"Just like no one messes with you, because you've got me to tell them off."

Not much of a reaction. Fine.

“You remember when Diego tried to help mom cook in the kitchen? He somehow set fire to water, mom’s skirt, and the ceiling all in one go.”

Klaus's lips twitched the slightest bit. The rocking stopped. Shivers wracked his thin frame as the ghosts flickered briefly.

“Good job, Ben,” Sam said. “Keep going." The man shifted back to his feet. "Dean should be back soon . . ."

Ben gently reached out a hand to his brother, laying it on his shoulder. "He was such a dumbass. Somehow even worse than you."

Klaus was silent, frozen in place. His hazel eyes were wide and pinned right on Ben's hand.

Ben's hand. That was touching him.

"Ben?"

Ben was deathly (ha) still, eyes just as wide and mouth on the floor. "No way . . ."

"Ben!" Klaus lurched forward into Ben, knocking them both over. They didn't care. They were hugging and it was amazing .

Ben could feel him. Really feel him. Even as he squeezed the life out of his brother, even as Klaus hugged back just as tightly, he could still feel him.

It was the best thing in the world.

Sam smiled at the brothers' hug. The ghosts were still a problem, and Klaus's hands still glowed blue, but it was a step in the right direction. Klaus trembled in his brother's grip, and Sam noticed Ben tighten his hold. They must have been dreaming of this moment for a long, long time.

The hunter sighed as he looked to the ghost hoard. It was . . . odd. They weren’t doing much, other than moaning and begging for help--that is, if they could talk--and shambled in place. Sam didn’t even have to do anything, really, but he still kept an eye on them. Their eyes were fixed on Klaus, but they kept back as though coming closer would hurt them. Wary glances at Ben made Sam wonder just what was up with the dead brother.

The door to the room swung open, Dean striding in with a huge bag of sidewalk salt. He grinned and held up his prize.

Sam rolled his eyes. “What took you so long?”

Dean huffed and ripped the bag open. “Had to distract the doctor. He’s currently doing like five tests, two of which I will not be sharing with the class.”

The younger smirked.

"Don't even think about it," he said with a pointed finger.

Sam raised his hands in a sign of peace. Dean narrowed his eyes. The younger just smiled wider, and his brother rolled his eyes.

"Alright, how'd you wanna go about this?" Dean asked. "We've never had to deal with Casper the friendly ghost, and these guys seem to be feeding off of Klaus's emotions."

"Ben stays," Sam said immediately. "He's a calming force for Klaus. The hoard, though . . .”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Follow my lead.”

Klaus held Ben tighter, never wanting to let go again. “Ben, Ben, Benny, Ben .”

“Yeah, Klaus, this is really happening,” Ben whispered, sounding just as in awe. “I’m hugging you. You’re hugging me.”

“This is so gay .”

Ben snorted and Klaus felt his brother’s hand curl into his hair, playing with the dark strands. “Leave the incest to One and Three, yeah?”

Klaus grinned, leaning into the comforting, familiar touch. “How long will this last?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Ben answered honestly. He took a deep breath and let it go in a sigh, and Klaus actually felt his chest move. “But I want to treasure it.”

Klaus nodded, dislodging Ben’s hand for a moment before it went back to petting him.

“Ben?” a voice said to their side. Klaus barely turned his head to glance at the shaggy haired man (What did he say his name was again? Sal?) who knelt down again. “We’re going to run. The ghosts won’t be able to follow us . . . hopefully. Unless Klaus’s . . . gifts?--do something that allows them to pass the salt lines. Try not to get caught in the crossfire.” He gave them a big grin and shot back up to his feet.

“He’s like a puppy,” Klaus said to Ben. Ben huffed a laugh.

Klaus, with a bit of Ben’s help, stood and joined the two men. His head still hurt, and he was still terrified of what his dad might do if he ever found out what happened tonight, but he had Ben, so he could get through this.

“You both go ahead of us, we’ll keep the hoard at bay,” the shorter of the two said. He gestured for them to leave the room.

“What about the doctors?” Ben asked.

“Eh, who cares? I’m getting out of this stupid hospital sooner than I thought. Let’s go!” Klaus took Ben’s hand (he could grab his hand now!) and ran for the door. Larger footsteps echoed behind them, and the hoard of ghosts screamed in outrage as they took their escape.

Klaus was afraid to look back, the screams terrifyingly loud and way too close for comfort. Instead, he trusted the men he just met and booked it through the sterile halls.

Ben cackled.

Dean threw the salt down as fast as he could once Klaus and Ben were out of the room, Sam hurling chunks of the stuff at the hoard to give Dean some time. They did not like that, already mad faces becoming murderous.

Sam gripped Dean’s jacket and pulled him back as a clawed hand reached out, just about taking his head clean off. He was nicked in the arm for his troubles.

The hunters ran after the younger brothers, the ghosts following behind near single file due to the small space they could crawl through that Dean wasn’t able to cover.

“Just how many people did you piss off, kid?” Dean shouted as he threw more salt down to slow them further.

“I have no idea who any of these people are!” Klaus yelped ahead of them. Dean glanced up to see Klaus knock over Doctor Schuett. The doctor fell to the floor with a heavy thud, his clipboard going flying. “Sorry!”

The doctor blinked several times, trying to process the scene before him.

Dean rolled his eyes and called to Sam. “Sammy! Grab the iron crowbar from our gear. We’ll lock ‘em in!”

Sam nodded and took off ahead of everyone. His much longer legs helped in overtaking everyone, even though Klaus was also pretty lanky.

Doctor Schuett watched as they ran past him, eyes impossibly wide at the stumbling crowd of ghosts that chased them. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle at the look on the guy’s face.

Once Klaus and Ben were past the sealed double doors, Dean threw down one last line of salt and followed. He dumped the now empty bag on one of the chairs outside.

“Now what?” Klaus asked through huffing breaths.

“Wait for Sam to get back with the iron. Then we haul ass.”

“Awesome,” the boy grinned.

The double doors shuddered as hundreds of ghosts slammed against it, trying to get to them beyond the line of salt. Mangled faces and bloody hands crowded the windows until the hallway where they had come from was blocked by howling masses.

“Come on, Sammy . . .”

Klaus jumped when the doors jolted with a loud bang, the salt line still barely holding up.

Ben gripped Dean’s jacket, something shifting beneath his clothes.

Moans and screams penetrated their ears, snarls and harsh words thrown at them. Hatred permeated the air. The poor receptionist fainted.

The lights flickered overhead. The room chilled, Klaus’s and Dean’s breaths fogging before their faces.

Another shudder, the salt line almost broken through.

“Got it!”

Sam suddenly shoved his way to the doors, iron crowbar in hand. He crammed it between the handles and stepped back. The wailing continued, but the attempts at the doors stopped.

“Come on,” Dean gestured for them to follow.

Ben sat next to Klaus in the back of the stolen car, hands still held tightly together. Klaus was beginning to look exhausted, like, Five-overworking-his-ability levels of exhausted. Absolutely drained and sickly looking. Ben worried that he might throw up soon. He squeezed his hand.

His brother gave him a shaky smile in return. “I’m alright. Just . . . tired.”

Ben nodded and gazed at his brother’s still-glowing blue hands. “Do you know how to turn that off?”

“You think I know anything about this?” He lifted their joined hands.

Ben bit his lip.

“Alright, we’re taking you back to where we found you,” Sam piped up from the front.

Klaus raised his brows. “The motel? Sure. Well, but honestly, you could just drop me off anywhere and that would be fine.”

Sam’s brows came together, but Dean spoke. “What about home? Where is that for you? Won’t there be people that would be worried if you don’t get home?”

Klaus and Ben shared a look before they both burst into hysterics. “Worried? Nah, if they were worried at all, they would have went searching for me a long time ago.” Klaus shrugged and looked out the window. “Hell, I’ve been living on the streets for months now and there haven’t even been missing posters.”

Sam looked back at that, while Dean glanced through the rearview mirror. “What? No one has been worried for you at all? You’ve been homeless ?”

“How long, exactly, have you been out there?” Dean asked.

Klaus shrugged. Ben said, “Three months, give or take. It’s December, right? I died a week or two after our sixteenth birthday. So . . . yeah, maybe a little before the three month mark.”

The men had tons of questions burning behind their eyes, Ben could see it. Sam settled on, “So . . . where should we take you?”

Klaus grinned mischievously. “Honestly, I couldn’t care less. Somewhere I can get a hit. You drop me off, and I’ll be on my merry way, never to be seen in your lives again.” He snapped his fingers. “By the way, thanks for the salt tip. I will definitely be using that to keep the nasty ghosties away.”

Dean frowned and pulled off to the side of the road. He turned around in his seat and narrowed his eyes at Klaus. “There is no way in hell that we are letting you go off and get drugged up again.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Oh, please , save the lecture. Daddy dearest has given me plenty. ‘ You’re useless like this, Number Four.’ ‘You’ll get everyone killed if you keep this up, Number Four.’ ‘You can’t use your powers if you continue down this path, Number Four.’” Klaus waved a hand in the air as he pretended to be Reginald.

“Number Four?” Sam asked.

Klaus grinned. “Yep! Pleasure to meet you both.” He held out his free hand. “Number Four, Klaus Hargreeves, at your service.”

Ben did the same with his free hand. “Number Six, Ben Hargreeves.”

“Awe, Benny, I love it when you catch on to my charms.”

“Shut up, idiot.”

The men ignored the hands, looking flabbergasted. “What, were you two part of an experiment or something?” Dean asked.

Klaus shrugged and took his hand back, Ben tucking his into his pocket. “Pretty much. Ol’ Reggie bought seven of us from our mothers and studied us. He trained us to be ‘superheroes’.” He used quotation gestures with his fingers. “Sucks for him that not all of us had powers that would help him in his plan to stop the end of the world or whatever.”

“Yeah, he would never win the ‘Father of the Year’ Award,” Ben agreed.

Sam and Dean looked appalled by the information. “So you’re number four on the list of children he bought ,” Sam pointed, “and you’re number six?”

Klaus nodded.

“Powers?” Dean asked.

“Yeah!” Klaus beamed and held up his glowing hand. It was beginning to fade, just as Klaus’s eyes looked to be dimming further. The circles under his eyes grew darker. “I see dead people,” he said in a dramatic voice.

“I have interdimensional monsters in my chest,” Ben said. “Or, I used to, while I was still alive. They’re still here, but . . . they’re more muted, you could say.”

They gaped at the boys. Ben snorted. “Yeah. We’re the furthest thing from normal.”

Klaus nodded. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just be on my way.” He reached for the handle, prepared to step out of the car.

“Hold it!” Dean grabbed Klaus’s wrist. Klaus froze. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Ben tensed. What did that mean? Were they suddenly going to turn on them? Were they going to send Klaus somewhere bad? Were they planning on doing something to Klaus? Klaus seemed to be having the same thoughts as Ben, hazel eyes flicking towards him in panic.

Sam rolled his eyes. “What this idiot means is that we won’t let you out just so you can live on the streets again.”

“And we’re not taking you back to your . . . ‘Reggie’, again,” Dean added.

Ben slowly relaxed. “Really?”

They nodded.

Klaus huffed. “Look, thanks, but no thanks--”

“I think you should listen to them, Klaus,” Ben interrupted.

Klaus’s wide eyes turned on Ben. “What? No! Where else would I go but the streets or dear old dad’s place?”

“You can come with us,” Dean said.

Chapter Text

Klaus thought for a second that he had water in his ears. “Sorry? Try that again.”

Sam looked just as confused.

“Come with us,” Dean repeated. Klaus glanced to his brother, but Ben only had his brows furrowed.

“Klaus . . . That’s up to you.”

“Oh, come on, Ben. You’re my voice of reason.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not. I’m your brother.”

Klaus stuck out his tongue. “You’re no fun.”

“Dean.” Sam used his eyes to speak. Klaus found that he was beginning to get annoyed by that. With a sigh, Dean shook his head.

“Klaus,” Dean said, drawing his attention back. “You can come with us. At least until we get you to a safe place.”

Klaus bit his lip. On one hand, he could go back to the way things were, living on the streets, getting the next high, never knowing when he’d have a roof over his head or a meal in his stomach, and he’d live his life like the trash he is. Or . . . He could learn more things about the ghosts, like the salt trick that they used earlier. He wasn’t too sure which option was the better one.

His mind screamed the gutter, but his heart screamed the road.

Another look at Ben and he knew his choice was obvious.

“Well, I always did like road trips.”

An hour into the drive and Klaus was passed out in the back. Literally. His glowing hands must have been the cause, since he had no idea how to turn them off, and he had begun to look increasingly tired the longer it continued. Ben had tried to help him, but in the end just held on tight until Klaus was out and the ghost disappeared. Sam wasn’t too worried, having checked his breathing already and positioning him in a more comfortable place.

The conversation they had in the car circled around in his mind as they drove. It was . . . really freaking weird to learn about Ben and Klaus. Their childhood was worse than his and Dean’s, which was quite a feat to achieve. Learning that both, and more children like them, had some kind of superpowers hit a little too close to home for Sam. It made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to talk to them about it in private later. Could it be possible that he was like them? If so, had he gotten lucky in not becoming one of Reginald Hargreeves’ experiments?

Of course, the hunters also shared what they did for a living with the teens.

“ You drive around the place and hunt monsters? That’s so cool! What kind of monsters are out there? Are they anything like Ben’s monsters? Would you have hunted Ben? Sorry, but I wouldn’t have let that fly. Wait, you won’t try to hunt him now , right? Because then this deal is off. ”

Dean was unnerved at the ghost in the back of the car, and in a way, Sam was too. They had had it drilled into their heads since they were young that all supernatural creatures were evil and were trying to kill them. Nothing was good or pure in the world, especially if it went bump in the night.

But Ben . . . Sam was finding that Ben was different from the other ghosts. Perhaps it was because of Klaus’s abilities, perhaps it was something else. He wasn’t sure. 

Ben had been pretty interested in what they had to say, while Klaus went down tangents they hadn’t even seen coming. He was a different kind of interesting in and of himself. Nothing about him was logical, which frustrated Sam to no end.

Lucky for Sam and Dean, Ben kept up just fine and would help in translation if needed. Sometimes very literally, since Klaus would switch languages every now and again, especially with words that were specific to that language that made sense in the context to him. Sam hoped they could see Ben again, for more reasons than one.

On the one hand, having Ben there was good for Klaus, and in helping the hunters understand Klaus. On the other . . . he was just a fun guy to talk to. He was much more mature than Klaus, and had a good head on his shoulders. He liked to read, and he and Sam got along well on that front. From what Sam could tell, Ben had been taking care of Klaus during his time on the streets. He didn’t think Klaus could have taken care of himself for so long without his brother’s influence.

During the quiet that circled through the car, Sam had somehow fallen asleep. He didn’t realize he did until Dean was shaking his shoulder awake. Sunlight filtered through the car windows and directly into his eyes. He hissed.

“Dean? What time is it?” he groaned. That was the best sleep he had had in weeks. Too bad it ended so soon.

“Almost nine,” Dean replied. “We’re at the airport. Wake the kid while I get our stuff.”

Sam nodded, leaning behind him to shake Klaus awake.

“Wha?” Klaus startled, disoriented and prepared to fight back. It was a flimsy attempt, and Sam found it oddly endearing. They would definitely need to help him with his reflexes.

Klaus sat up and glared at the sunlight peeking through the windows. "No. Too early. Wake me when it's noon at least."

Sam huffed a grin, shaking his head. "We've made it to our first destination of the day. You can go back to sleep once we change cars."

"Ooo, it's like we're in a spy movie. Or we're running from the cops."

"Well, lucky for us neither is the case. Just getting back into our own vehicle."

"Ah, so you stole this one because . . .?"

Sam shrugged. "It's easier. That, and we don't buy a lot of big stuff unless absolutely necessary."

Klaus looked at him funny.

"What?" he asked.

"Easier? To steal a car?" He paused--listening to Ben, Sam has figured out. "Yeah, Ben agrees that that makes zero sense."

Sam sighed. "Well, hunting isn't really a paid job. We get by on stolen credit cards."

Klaus gasped dramatically. "Really? You guys are just as illegal as I've always been."

Sam wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but went with it anyway. Klaus hopped over to the Impala just as Dean took the front seat.

Sam ducked down into the car as the classic turned over with a growl. His muscles relaxed without him realizing they were tense. He was home.

"Alright. To Sioux Falls!"

"Whoa, where's that?" Klaus's eyes widened. "And why are we going there again?"

"We're gonna take you to an old friend of ours. Bobby." Sam explained. "He'll be able to help you in our place."

"Wait, wait, I thought I was coming with you guys." His brows furrowed. "Where will you go once I get to Bobby's?"

Sam glanced to Dean, who had tightened his hands around the wheel. Dean let out a long sigh.

"Look, Klaus. We don't have anything against you coming with us out on hunts--"

"But you guys are purposefully leaving me out." Klaus slumped back in his seat, lip puckered. "I knew it. You guys think I'm useless."

"It's not that . . ." Dean started.

Klaus waved a hand. "No, no, I get it. You don't want me out on a hunt. It's fine." He folded his arms and stared out the window.

" Clearly it isn't," Dean shot back. "Look. We can't have you be a liability on a hunt," Klaus winced at the wording. "You'd need training first, a knowledge of all the stuff we fight. If you get hurt, that's on us. We don't need to deal with that."

Klaus put up a small smile (Sam thought it looked a bit forced), and relaxed further into his seat. "Alright. I getcha. Drive on, mein freund."

Dean hesitated for a moment, then pulled out of the parking spot. They abandoned the stolen car, knowing it would probably pop up on police interface now that it was morning.

Despite the fact that Sam felt for Klaus, he also agreed with Dean. It was too dangerous for Klaus to just hop on the hunting train with them when he was clueless to that kind of stuff. Besides, he just came from the hospital and needed time to get better.

Sam just hoped that the small trust gained wouldn't be thrown out due to this decision.

Driving through the midwest was boring. Driving while it was near silent was boring. Driving while knowing that he was about to be dropped off at a stranger's house for an undetermined amount of time was frustrating.

Did everyone just assume that Klaus couldn't do anything?

His siblings did, all the time, assigning him to be the lookout while they did all the work. Reginald did, stating that Klaus was the greatest disappointment of the academy. Hell, even Ben did--when he was alive, that is.

To sum up, Klaus felt like he was the most useless person in the world, and that the universe just had to remind him every five seconds.

They stopped at a motel somewhere in Ohio, deciding to catch a few z's since they were all running on fumes. It wasn't a great motel, perhaps a little nicer than the one Klaus was kidnapped from (he appreciated the windows that still had glass and the cleaning job they did), but the ghosts were still an issue. One was right next to him, moaning about how someone tortured them to death in one of the rooms and going into explicit detail about what happened.

"My nails . . . They put bamboo shoots under my nails and let them grow . . ." The ghost mumbled. "Cuts, so many cuts that drew blood; it burned, it burned! They burned away my eyelids! I can't see!"

Ben was trying to play buffer, but Klaus still held his hands to his ears.

"Man, what I wouldn't do for a bit of weed right now."

Ben gave him a disappointed glance, while Sam and Dean looked on incredulously.

"Okay, yeah, no," Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. Determination shone through his eyes. "If you're gonna hang out with us, no drugs. Not even pain killers, unless absolutely necessary ."

Klaus frowned and folded his arms. "You don't get it. Try living with ghosts constantly surrounding you and screaming their heads off. I can't just turn this power off and on! The only thing that gets them to stop is the drugs."

Ben gave him a sad look. "Klaus . . ."

Dean shook his head. "I don't care--"

"Wow, ouch ," Klaus put a hand to his chest.

"--we have other ways to get them to stop," the hunter continued. "Like the salt. Iron. Burning the bones. Tons of other options. I don't want you going near drugs again. You got me?"

Klaus raised a brow. "Burning the bones?" He glanced to Ben. "Ben was cremated. He's still around."

Dean seemed uncomfortable about the mention of Ben, eyes flicking to where Klaus had looked. Huh.

Sam opened his laptop as he settled for the night. "That sometimes happens. Do you have an object that Ben might have loved with you? His soul is probably attached to it."

He shook his head. "No. I left the house with the clothes on my back and a few dollars."

The hunters furrowed their brows and looked to each other.

"Is it because of your powers, do you think?" Sam asked him.

Klaus huffed. "Let me be honest with you. I have no idea how my powers work. For as much as dear ol' dad loved to train me, we both had no idea what to do about them. I drugged myself up to keep the nasty ghosts away, and he just kinda gave up on reprimanding me."

Dean straightened himself and squeezed Klaus's shoulder to get him back on track. Which was kinda funny, since he derailed the original conversation flawlessly. "Is Ben always around? He never leaves?"

"Trust me," Klaus grinned. "I've tried to get him to leave several times. He refuses to leave my side."

"Even if he wants to do something else? What about tangibility? Can he hurt people?"

"He hasn't hurt anyone since he was alive," Klaus's face darkened. "And he didn't want to hurt anyone. Reginald forced him to use his powers."

Dean held up his hands in surrender. “I just need to know if he’s dangerous.”

Klaus huffed. “Oh, he was plenty dangerous when alive. Now that he’s dead, he’s nothing but air.”

Ben did not look happy by that comment, but he didn’t interrupt. Klaus ignored the twinge of guilt.

“Ghosts are still able to hurt people,” Dean pointed out. “Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he’s not still here.”

“I know that. He’s been with me since the day he died,” Klaus felt his eyes sting. “And he won’t be hurting anyone, because he’s the best person in the entire world . He would never do anything to harm someone, not by his own choice.”

“Klaus . . .”

“Can you be sure of that?” Dean asked. “Can you be absolutely certain that your brother would never hurt someone?”

“100%,” Klaus sat on the bed. “Don’t you ever assume anything different.”

Sam had been silent the whole time, but now he spoke up from his place at the small table. "Klaus . . ." He licked his lips, hesitating. "You should get some sleep."

Klaus nodded. The day had been exhausting, and all he wanted was to lie down and never get up again. "Go away," he told the ghost in the corner, though he knew it wouldn't listen. Sam and Dean gave him funny looks until they realized he wasn’t talking to them.

"My eyes . . . My fingers . . .!"

He sighed and gingerly curled up at the bottom of the bed as though moving hurt, not caring about a pillow or blanket.

"Get some rest, Klaus," Ben said softly. "I'll be here to keep you safe."

Klaus drifted asleep.

Sam typed away at his laptop after having pulled a blanket around Klaus’s way too thin shoulders, exhausted but afraid to sleep. Visions of Jessica pinned to the ceiling kept him up, guilt and anger and pain eating away at him.

"What should we do about Ben?" Dean asked as he cleaned his gun. Sam was grateful for the distraction. He wasn't getting anywhere online anyways. "I don't think he should stay, both for Klaus's sake and his own sanity."

"What do you want us to do? Klaus needs him. And he said he doesn't have anything of Ben's. I don't want to hurt him."

"I don't either," Dean said immediately. "I just . . . If he stays here for too long, he's going to go crazy. It would be painful for Klaus. That, and it's highly possible that he'd accidentally hurt Klaus out of a fit of insanity."

Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "I don't think there's a whole lot we can do, really. I think the only way for Ben to move on would be for Klaus to let him go."

"You think Klaus is keeping him here unintentionally?"

Sam shrugged. "It's possible. He said it himself: he has no idea how powerful he really is. There's a ton of stuff he could be capable of. Why wouldn't he be able to do that much?"

Dean sighed and put his gun back together in record time. "I don't know, man. This whole thing is weird. We've never encountered anything like this before. Superpowers? That's something out of freakin' comic books."

Sam smirked. "Well, the way we live, you don't think it's possible?"

Dean grumbled and stood up. "You know what? I'm going to read through Dad's journal. Maybe he's got something on all of this."

"Alright. I'll keep scouring the internet for anything nearby."

Dean pointed a finger at him. "I want you to sleep ."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I will. Later."

"I'll hold you to that."

Sam watched as his brother grabbed the journal and flopped across the second bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes or taking off his shoes, then started to flip through the pages.

It's not like they were trying to get rid of Ben . . . Okay, maybe a bit. It was freaky that they were travelling around with one of their sworn enemies. Ben was odd, however. He didn’t fit in like the other ghosts. He was sane. He was capable of feelings and ideas. He was still him.

That, and they warmed up to him and Klaus pretty fast during the long drive. 

Sam had met one other monster that was like Ben--kind and near human . He had let her go. Could he do the same for Ben? 

In Amy’s case, though, Sam vowed that if he ever met her again in similar circumstances, he wouldn’t be as forgiving. Not having to see her and turning a blind eye was different than actually teaming up with a monster.

Sam had no idea what to do.

"Sam."

Dean's gruff voice brought Sam out of his musings. His brother slid off the bed and turned the journal around so Sam could see what it read.

"Dad made an entry about Klaus and his siblings."

Sam leaned in closer to get a better look.

"' October 1, 1989, 43 children were born at the same exact time. The mothers had not been pregnant at the beginning of the day. '"

Sam scrunched his nose. "That's super weird."

Dean nodded and went on. "' Most of the children were hunted, due to the fact that they were unknown and, upon closer inspection, had abilities that brought about terror. Seven escaped. I'll keep an eye out for them. I hope they don't bring about terrible catastrophes. '"

Sam clenched his jaw. "Klaus and Ben were lucky." He looked to Dean. "Do you think they're still being hunted?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I hope not. From what I can see, they're normal kids that just have a bit of a supernatural twist." He looked conflicted. "I still want to keep an eye on Klaus. Dad wrote down this stuff for a reason."

Sam gave Dean a grim smile. "All the more reason to keep him around."

Dean shot him a weak grin back. "And look." Dean pointed to a newspaper clipping. "A newspaper with the Umbrella Academy on the front page. Sir Reginald Hargreeves and his seven little superheroes."

"They actually put Sir as his title? Who does he think he is, the king?"

That got a big smile from Dean. "Guess the guy is as egotistical as Klaus said."

"So, you gonna ask Bobby for more details about the 43 children?" Sam pulled up a new search window.

"'Course. Gotta know all we can about that, and make sure no one else is still going after Klaus."

Sam nodded. "Good plan." He paused, brows furrowed as he read what popped up in his news feed. "Dean . . ."

"What?"

"There's a hunt. Here. In Ohio."

Chapter Text

Worry filled Ben the longer he listened to the hunter's conversation. At first, it had been outrage. Hadn't Klaus already told them that he wouldn't hurt anyone?

But then they started getting into how Ben might accidentally hurt Klaus, how the longer he stayed with Klaus the faster he became insane. Ben had seen the older ghosts, the ones that followed Klaus around for years. He knew exactly what the hunters meant by crazy.

Would he end up like that if he continued to stay with Klaus? Would he lose his sense of self? Would he become one of the very things that tormented his brother?

That alone scared him. He didn’t want to be one of those things . 

He didn’t want to end up hurting his brother.

He decided that, until he could come to a decision, he wouldn’t discuss with Klaus what he had overheard. That both gave him time to think and time for Klaus to weedle some more information about how to get rid of ghosts. Because, yeah, this was his shot at a normal, healthy life, as screwed up as it all was, and Ben wasn’t about to ruin that just yet.

Ben needed his brother to be okay, for once. He wanted this all to work out and for the hunters to keep their word in making sure Klaus stayed away from drugs.

Speaking of the hunters, they were currently packing their things, anxious to leave for a hunt while Klaus was a giant ball of excitable energy. 

“What are we going to hunt? Is it a werewolf? Are those a thing? Are they really hairy like everyone says?”

“You,” Dean cut him off as he placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively getting the teen to stop jittering, “are going to stay in the car .”

Klaus deflated. “What? Why? I thought you said you couldn’t drop me off at Bobby’s so I’d be going with you.”

“Yes, you’ll be coming along because we don’t have enough time for the back and forth. But you’ll be safe and sound in the car while we ,” he gestured to himself and Sam, “will take care of this.”

“That’s not fair!” Klaus whined. He looked like a child to Ben. “Can’t you at least tell me what it is? Maybe I can be more helpful than you think!”

“We don’t know what it is yet,” Sam said. “We want to be extra cautious, Klaus.”

“If you don’t know what it is, then how do you know it’s a hunt?”

“Because of the article,” Sam said, turning his laptop around for Klaus to see. On it, a man who looked to be in his forties smiled back at them, the name Steven Shoemaker in bolded letters below the picture.

Klaus raised a brow. “What about it?”

“The daughter said his eyes were bleeding when she found him.” Dean huffed. “Perfectly healthy man before his death, might I add.”

“It sounds like a stretch to me . . .” Klaus pursed his lips.

“You think that maybe the bleeding eyes was more than that?” Ben asked. Klaus translated for him.

The hunters nodded. “A little blood from the eyes doesn’t kill a man, not right away. No, something else happened that resulted in bleeding eyes.” Sam closed his laptop and slid it into his bag.

“So, what do you think happened to him?”

“That’s what we’re gonna find out,” Dean grinned.

Klaus hated being in the car already. Sam and Dean were inside the morgue, pretending to ask about the body for a “school paper”. Klaus wanted to join in, see the hunters in action. Anything but be out here, bored to tears.

“Benny,” Klaus whined. His brother looked at him, irritated.

“What?”

“I’m bored. Tell me a story?”

Ben frowned and looked out the window. “No. Not right now.”

Klaus snorted. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Nothing. I just don’t wanna talk right now.”

Klaus got closer into Ben’s space, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Ben . . . Ben . . . Beeeeeeeen . . .”

Ben growled. “Klaus--”

The sudden screams of an approaching ghost startled the pair, Klaus leaping in his seat and whirling towards the noise.

Coming out of the hospital was the man the hunters were looking at right now, his ghost wailing and scratching at his eyes. Or . . . at least, where his eyes had been. Blood drained from empty sockets like a waterfall, dripping into his mouth and down his prim shirt. Black lines trailed along his cheeks to the eyes and down past his collar like spider webs. Klaus shivered. He’d never seen anyone like that before.

The ghost moaned, trying to keep his blood from spilling further. It was never ending.

“Klaus . . .” Ben whispered, fearful. “Can you . . . uh . . . do anything about him?”

“Well, according to you, I’m not allowed drugs, so what do you want me to do ?” Klaus hissed.

Ben shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! Try sending him away.”

“That’s never worked before!”

“You’re sober now and can manifest ghosts! Just try! Before he notices us.”

Klaus sighed and held up a hand, focusing all of his energy into sending the ghost . . . wherever it is ghosts end up. He doesn’t know. Do they just disappear? Fade into nothing? Or maybe he could send them to the other side of the world. That would be nice.

Sweat beaded on Klaus’s brow, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. His hand began to shake from the effort. It didn’t feel like it had when he caused all those ghosts to appear in the real world, that overflowing power at his fingertips that he could feel gushing out from his middle, free at last.

“You look like you’re constipated.”

“Shut up, you prick.”

“Focus, Klaus.”

“I am focusing.”

“Then why is nothing happening?”

Klaus threw his hands into the air. “Like I know! Dad never helped me learn to use my powers, he just threw me at the ghosts and said, ‘have fun’.”

Ben raised a brow. “But you should have some clue, right?” When Klaus gave him a deadpanned look, Ben went on. “It’s literally your thing . You’re the expert on your own power. Not dad. Not me. Not Sam or Dean. You .”

“Easy for you to say. I don’t even know what all my powers can do. I don’t even know if I’ve unlocked all my powers.”

“Well, all the more reason that you’ll be able to do this much, right?”

“But I don’t even know where to start ,” Klaus put his face in his hands. “What do I do , Benny?”

“You stop feeling sorry for yourself and send the ghost away,” Ben said, as serious as he could get. Klaus would know; he used his serious voice.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Ben smiled. “Because it’s you, dummy.”

Klaus pretended he didn't feel absolutely gushy inside because of that.

A chill ran down Klaus’s spine, and his head snapped up to the ghost still outside the car. His eyeless gaze was fixed right on him.

“Help me,” the man pleaded. “Help me! She did this! Help me please!”

Klaus scrambled further into the seat. “I can’t do this!”

“You can. I know you can!”

“G-Go away!” He shouted, throwing his arm out to stop the ghost.

The man barreled towards him with a wail. “Help me!”

Klaus closed his eyes, heart jackhammering against his ribs. “Go away! Go away, please!”

“Klaus--!”

He was back. Stone. Hundreds of faces. Dead dead dead. It was cold, so cold. He can’t escape, he can’t breathe . No no no. Go away . Go away!

Klaus screamed .

Something pulled at his gut. Hard. His scream was choked off as pain flared from where his bellybutton lie and spread all throughout his body. Chilled talons squeezed his heart. He was going to die. Dead dead dead dead --

And then, silence.

Klaus could hear his own breathing. Klaus could hear birds singing in the trees. Klaus has never been able to hear those things before, not unless he was high out of his mind.

It was beautiful.

“Ben, I did it . . .”

"Klaus, you're bleeding!" Ben yelped.

“What?” Klaus looked down, patting himself but not seeing anything. “Where?”

“Your nose is gushing blood," Ben stated, bewildered. "Are you okay?"

Klaus shrugged, wiping at his nose. It didn't do much, other than make his hand soaked. Ben was right, it was gushing. And getting all over his new clothes.

"Ben!" He whined.

Ben shrugged helplessly. "What do you want me to do about it? I'm dead."

Klaus sighed dramatically. "I don't know, look for a tissue or somethi--"

The doors opened and Klaus squealed.

“Alright. Let’s go talk to the daughter,” Sam said as they exited the hospital. They were met with a sunny morning breeze, birds chirping in the trees. Sam could see Klaus vaguely in the Impala, waving his arms around animatedly. The younger hunter smirked. The kid always looked so funny when he was talking. So full of energy and life .

To be honest, the brothers needed that in their lives right now.

The hunters opened the doors to the Impala and were met with a girly squeal from Klaus. Dean laughed, head thrown back and all. Sam just chuckled, hopping into the front seat.

"Klaus, you--"

He froze, the sight in the back chilling him. Klaus’s nose dripped blood, as did his ears. It looked like a murder scene, crimson soaking through everything. He looked deathly pale, but he was awake and coherent. Sam lurched for the tissues while Dean swore loudly.

“What the hell happened? You were supposed to stay in the car!” Dean shouted as Sam dabbed at Klaus's face.

"I did. Mister Shoemaker decided to pay a visit."

Sam stilled, the implications of what Klaus had said sinking in. "Steve Shoemaker?"

"The dead guy who's eyes were liquified?" Dean added.

"That's the one," Klaus gave them finger guns.

"Did he say anything to you?"

"Well, other than begging for help, he mentioned a woman?"

Sam rolled his hand for him to continue. Klaus shook his head. "That's all I got from him before I sent him away."

Dean frowned. "Sent him away? Why would you do that? We needed the info!"

Klaus frowned. "He was terrifying . That, and once he had spotted me he ran at me. I don't know if you understand this, but this is a huge thing for me. I got rid of a ghost!"

Sam decided to play peacemaker and held up his hands, one full of bloody tissue. He knew his brother, and Dean was not happy about this, both because of Klaus’s blood continuing to drip down his chin and because they lost a really good lead. "Klaus, I'm glad you were able to do something you've never been able to do. The reason Dean is upset is because we don't know when the monster will attack next, or who it will attack. Having a ghost literally talking to you about what happened is kind of a big deal, and could have really helped us."

Klaus folded his arms with a pout. "Well, you guys wanted me to stay in the car."

Sam sighed. "Yes . . . That's our fault."

Klaus perked up. "Does that mean that I can leave the car?"

"No," Dean said.

Klaus threw his arms into the air. "Well, then, what do you want me to do? Help you, or stay put?"

Sam glanced to Dean, the other man worrying his lip in thought. Sam knew that Dean wanted Klaus to stay safe, but Sam thought that Klaus would be extremely helpful if he had enough time and practice with his powers.

"Fine," Dean relented. "But only for the small stuff. No dangerous crap until you have some knowledge under your belt. Especially if you don't have your powers under control."

The smile Klaus gave was blinding, and Sam discovered it was contagious. "Hell yeah! You hear that, Ben? We're gonna be hunters!"

Sam heard Dean quietly mutter under his breath, "If he's gonna get in trouble while in the car , you can bet that I'm gonna get one too many headaches with this kid."

The Shoemaker home was a modest two story, white picket fence type of place. The kind of place that Klaus and Ben dreamed about when they were little, instead of the cold mansion they were raised in. The inside was homey and warm, and everything the two boys had never had. Klaus smiled.

“Feel like we’re underdressed,” Dean huffed, glancing down at their casual clothes. They were , considering the house was filled with guests for the wake. Especially Klaus, considering he wore one of Dean’s t-shirts and drawstring pants.

Klaus just shrugged. Not much they could do about it now.

They were directed to Shoemaker’s daughter, Donna, and Dean and Sam did what they did best: lie their asses off and hope the person they wanted intel from bought it.

“We worked with your dad.”

“You did?” Donna looked skeptical at that, eyes directed at Klaus, but Dean steamrolled over it.

“Yeah. This whole thing--” the man shook his head, looking remorseful. Klaus had to hand it to them. They were decent actors. Not Allison’s level, but then again they weren’t trained in the ways of acting from Reginald’s money-hungry teachers. “I mean, a stroke.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk about this right now,” the blonde girl to Donna’s right said. Klaus pursed his lips. She seemed like a good friend, someone loyal.

Yet, why did she have a ghost following her?

He was a suicide ghost, Klaus realized. He blinked, surprised that the knowledge just appeared to him, in his mind. It was weird. Klaus could just tell . Although, the rope burns around his neck could also have been an indication.

Interesting. Brother? Boyfriend? He leaned more towards the latter since the ghost kept mumbling and trying to touch the girl’s hair in a gentle manner. Though, Allison and Luther were like that too, so who was he to judge?

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Donna assured.

“Were there ever any symptoms?” Dean asked after a moment. “Dizziness? Migraines?”

“No.”

“That’s because it wasn’t a stroke,” the little girl to Donna’s left said, spinning around in her seat. She had been wanting to say something the entire time, guilt clear on her features.

“Lily, don’t say that,” Donna reprimanded.

“What?” Sam urged the girl on.

“I’m sorry,” Donna shook her head and gave them all a tight smile. “She’s just upset.”

“No, it happened because of me,” Lily insisted.

“Sweetie, it didn’t.”

Sam moved around so he could kneel beside the girl. “Lily. Why would you say something like that?”

“Right before he died . . .” Lily gulped. “I said it.”

Klaus frowned.

“You said what?” Sam’s eyebrows rose in sympathy.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror,” Lily admitted. “She took his eyes; that’s what she does.”

“That’s not why dad died. This isn’t your fault.”

“I think your sister’s right, Lily,” Dean gave the girl a small smile. “There’s no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Mean, your dad didn’t say it, did he?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed in on Lily to see her reaction.

“No . . . I don’t think so.”

Dean nodded his head, then jerked his head back the way they came. Sam gave a subtle nod.

They excused themselves and went back into the house. Sam and Dean turned to Klaus, and the boy perked.

“Alright, any thoughts to share?” Dean asked kindly enough. Klaus was just excited that they wanted his opinion.

“The blonde girl had a ghost following her,” Klaus reported. He was vaguely reminded of his childhood, having to report all that happened on a mission to his father. It’s not the same , he reminded himself, these are friends, not dictators .

The hunters catalogued the information away to open for another time. Sam asked, “What about the Bloody Mary thing? Are we going to look into that?”

We . Klaus’s stomach filled with butterflies at that word. He was part of a team , that actually found him useful .

Ben piped up from Klaus’s left, “I think it’s worth a shot. Who knows, with all the stuff they’ve told us about, it’s possible.”

Klaus nodded. “Ben and I agree that it’s something to look into.”

The hunters nodded. Now that they had a direction, they could do the real digging.

Chapter Text

“Klaus. You and Dean stay here, scope the place out. I’ll start looking into Bloody Mary lore,” Sam said.

Dean nodded to his brother, and Klaus piped in excitedly, “Ben will go with you! He’s always been smart, and he can pick up on stuff you might miss.”

Sam hesitated a moment, gears turning behind hazel eyes. Then, slowly, a warm smile stretched across his face. “Thank you, Klaus. Ben. I would love to have the help.”

Klaus’s smile widened, only to falter slightly at a glance to where Ben was. “Ben? Something wrong?”

Sam glanced to Dean, eyebrows drawn together. Dean gave a shrug.

Klaus huffed. “Just go hang out with your books. Maybe you and Sam can become nerdy buddies!” He turned back to Sam. “He’ll go with you. He’s just being a moody teenager ghost.”

With a snort, Sam turned to leave, hopefully with Ben in tow. Dean took out his homemade EMF as he and Klaus hiked up the stairs.

“Thanks for letting Ben hang out with Sam. It would have messed with my readings.”

Klaus looked at the device curiously. “What readings?”

Dean grinned, excitement filling him at the chance to talk about his homemade device. “It’s an EMF. Homemade, too.”

“Wow . . .” Klaus nodded. “So, it picks up ghost readings?”

“Not just ghosts. Most baddies tend to leave a bit of a trail behind that an EMF can pick up on.”

“And you made it by yourself?” Klaus’s eyes sparkled.

"Hell yeah I did," Klaus's excitement caused Dean's to show through.

They chatted quietly as they roamed the upstairs, making their way to the bathroom where Shoemaker had kicked the bucket. The EMF wasn't picking up anything unordinary all throughout the rooms, but as soon as they reached the bathroom, Klaus inhaled sharply and backed up a step, his smile vanishing as fast as the blood that drained from his face.

"Klaus?" Dean glanced back down to the EMF. It barely made a peep.

Klaus's hand came up to cover his lips, shaking so badly that Dean thought the boy might just come apart.

"It's . . . So evil in here. So much hatred and fear and . . . Ugly things." He looked like he was about to throw up. "I-I have to go."

He ran from the room. Dean watched him go, bewildered.

Dean found Klaus out in the car a while later, the teen completely silent as he stared at his hands.

". . . Klaus?" Dean knelt down beside the teen with the car door wide open. "You good man?"

Klaus slowly brought his eyes up to meet Dean's, and the hunter was shaken by the haunted look he was given. "I've never felt anything like that before."

"Well, that tiling was pretty frightening," Dean tried to joke. Klaus didn't smile, didn't even seem the tiniest bit amused. ". . . Sorry."

"I don't . . . I'm terrified of what these powers might be able to do."

Dean sighed and placed a hand on Klaus's shoulder. "We're here to help you, Klaus. We won't let anything bad happen to you. Not while you're with us."

The hope that was shown in the teen's eyes was heartbreaking. Dean gave him a warm grin, to which the boy returned with a small one of his own.

"So . . . What was that all about back there?" 

Klaus shuddered and brought his arms up to shield himself. "It was awful. All this pure hate and anger just surged through me. And fear. So, so much fear."

"Was it Shoemaker?" Dean's brows furrowed.

Klaus shook his head. " Mary' ."

Ben followed behind Sam, not wanting to leave his brother's side, but also knowing that this would be a good opportunity to watch one of the hunters without the other. See what they were like separated.

Sam found a secluded spot that gave him view of two exits and a plug-in for his laptop, and Ben sat crossed legged on top the table, hands in his pockets.

Sam hesitated once he had his laptop open, fingers hovering over the keys. Ben tilted his head and narrowed his eyes.

"Ben," Sam began, surprising Ben. Usually, the hunters would only talk with Ben (well, at Ben) when Klaus was around to translate, or if Klaus had him manifested. "Dean and I have been discussing things about what to do about you and Klaus."

Ben scowled. Yeah, he knew.

"The thing is," he continued, voice low, "we just don't know everything about Klaus, so we're assuming that you'll decay like any other ghost. We don't know why you're still here, so we don't really know how to send you to heaven or wherever it is ghosts go, but we want to help you two."

He paused for a moment, Ben folding his arms as the rage returned. Sam cleared his throat into his fist and went on, "I'm not saying we're planning on getting rid of you entirely. Just . . . We don't want you to end up like those that go insane the longer they remain as they are."

"Joke’s on you," Ben grumbled, despite Sam not hearing him. "I bet Klaus has a way of keeping me sane. Or something." He pondered that for a moment. "In fact, I bet that's why I'm still around. Klaus. He needs me. So, no, I'm not leaving." He grinned, all of his teeth flashing in the false light. “And you can’t make me. I’ll claw my way back from hell to get to his side.”

Yeah, maybe it was spite talking, and maybe he was upset that the hunters were planning to dispose of him, but he absolutely meant it. And, yeah, the longer he thought about it, he was sure that Klaus would find a way to keep him sane.

Sam sighed and ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. "We want Klaus to stay with us. We want to protect him from other hunters, from himself . Can you trust us with that?"

Ben scoffed. "Of course. But it's my job to look out for my brother, not yours. If you try to get rid of me, I will not make things easy for you."

A chill spread through the room, Sam's breath coming out in a vapor cloud. The books shuttered on the shelves, some clattering to the floor. Sam's head shot up, shoulders tensing. Ben's anger dimmed, being replaced with fear, and everything stilled once more. Did . . . Did he do that?

"Ben . . ." Sam swallowed.

He didn't have to say more.

They all regrouped back at the motel, Klaus immediately turning to Ben once Sam came in.

"Ben! I missed you." 

He walked to the corner of the room to speak in low tones with his brother while Dean went to Sam.

"Anything?"

Sam shook his head. "The Bloody Mary legend is nationwide. There are thousands of urban legends and stories related to her. Kids say the words in front of the mirror all the time and it never works."

"Yeah, but this time it did," Dean said.

"How are you so sure? Maybe it's a coincidence."

"Klaus."

That really said it all, didn’t it? Sam glanced to the medium. "What happened on your end?"

Dean sighed. "Kid said he felt Mary’s . . . I don’t know, emotions or something. He didn’t really explain.”

“Wait,” Sam’s eyes widened. “He said Mary specifically?”

Dean nodded, grinning in amazement. “Yeah. He said that she had been super angry.”

His little brother nodded along, looking thoughtful. “It would make sense, then . . . I’ll have to look into deaths in the area. I guess the Shoemakers did something that really pissed off a spirit.”

“Guess so,” Dean said. “We should also keep an eye on the family, just in case Mary decides to attack again.” He paused for a moment, eyes trained on the teenager. “It’s really helpful to have him with us.”

He could feel Sam’s smirk without looking. “You sure we want to drop him off at Bobby’s?”

Dean glared at his brother. “He doesn’t have training, Sam.”

Sam scoffed. “As if that’s ever stopped our family before. We were raised on the road, Dean. I spent most of the time in the motels. Hell, I’ve been attacked before before I even knew how to hold a gun correctly.”

Dean winced at that, memories of his past failures coming to mind. It happened a lot more when Sam was a teenager, but when he was really little . . .

Sammy was his responsibility. Watch out for Sammy . . .

“Dean.” Dean snapped back to Sam’s worried gaze. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring anything up . . .”

Dean waved him off. “I’m fine. Klaus, though, I don’t want to risk it. I’m not dad. Not about this, anyway.”

With a sigh, Sam acquiesced.

“. . . Doesn’t mean we won’t ask for help every now and again . . .” Dean tacked on at the end.

The smirk returned. Dean flipped him off.

The smile slowly faded, and Sam stepped closer, voice lowering. “There was an incident at the library today . . .”

A niggle of worry wormed its way into Dean’s stomach. “What happened?”

“Excuse me?” Klaus’s sharp voice brought their attention to the boy, effectively cutting their conversation short. Klaus whipped around to face them, face twisted in anger and hurt. “You want to get rid of Ben!”

Dean backed up a step, blue shimmers running along Klaus’s arms as he let his emotions control his powers. “Wait a minute--”

“You told him that you think he’s dangerous. To me!” Klaus sliced the air with a hand. “Well listen here, I won’t stand for that! Ben is the best thing in the entire world . Even if he does end up doing something that might hurt me--which he wouldn’t!--I wouldn’t care because he’s my brother. He’s my brother . And he’s all I have left.”

They could see Ben, now, the ghost’s smug grin and folded arms taunting the hunters. 

Dean bit his lip. “Klaus,” he said, taking a small step forward, “over time, ghosts decay and go insane. It’s a result of negative emotions that build up over time. Like Mary, remember?”

Klaus faltered for a moment, fear crossing his features briefly. Ben’s smile faded, worry directed towards his brother.

“The same could happen to Ben.” Dean went on. “We don’t know. And we don’t want you to be hurt because of that. We don’t want what happened today to happen again.”

For a moment, Dean thought that maybe he had convinced the teen. Klaus bit his lip, curls obscuring his eyes and hands playing with his shirt hem. Dean took another step forward, hands outstretched.

“No.” Klaus’s eyes hardened and he moved around Dean, grabbing his jacket from where he had thrown it on the bed earlier to fling around his shoulders. “Until you guys realize that Ben is here to stay, I want nothing to do with you.”

“You can’t just leave!” Dean tried, desperate.

Klaus just looked at him, fire burning in his eyes. “Watch me.”

He slammed the door on his way out.

“Klaus!” Ben ran to catch up. “Klaus, wait up!”

His brother’s arms were still glowing faintly in the night air, most of it hidden beneath black jacket sleeves. Ben could feel the chill in the air, could feel the road under his feet as he ran, and knew that he was manifested.

His brother stopped abruptly, causing Ben to run into him. Klaus didn’t really notice, lost in his anger.

“Didn’t I tell them that you were the best? Didn’t I tell them that you wouldn’t hurt me?”

“Klaus--”

“And yet, they go and say stuff like that!” Klaus threw his hands into the air like the dramatic bitch he was. “Like, do they know you at all? No! I do!”

“ Klaus --”

“And the way they were all surprised when I turned it on them. It’s like they didn’t want me to know and do it behind my back. That’s dirty!”

“Klaus--!”

“Well, fine, if they’re too squeamish to be around you, we’ll go.”

Ben pursed his lips. “Where are you going, Klaus?” Ben asked, praying that it wasn’t what he thought it was. Please not drugs, please not drugs, he was doing so well --

“You and I are going to finish this hunt. Without them.”

Chapter Text

Sam woke up groggy and unrested. Dean hadn’t bothered going to sleep at all, by the looks of it. They had stayed up as late as possible, just in case Klaus came back.

He never did.

That worried the hunters. There was a malicious ghost out there and the kid was homeless again. He didn't even have any money to buy food or shelter with. No phone, either.

"We need to find him," Dean stated. "And we should apologize."

"Apologize to what?" Sam asked without heat. "For saying that his brother is a monster that could turn on him at any moment? Or for him finding out and getting angry?"

Dean winced. "Yeah, okay. That makes it sound awful.”

Sam shrugged, turning his attention down to his clothes. He pulled his shirt over his head before he answered. “It is, though. The situation is new to all of us, but especially Klaus. We may not know enough about his powers, but from our experience, it’s never a good thing to keep a ghost in this realm for long.”

His older brother laced his shoes and shoved his knife into his duffle. He paused. “You mentioned, last night. Something about Ben?”

Grim, Sam buttoned his flannel before he answered. “Yeah. He, uh . . .” he rubbed a hand over his face. “He caused the books in the library to shake, and some of them fell. It startled one of the poor librarians.”

Dean furrowed his brows. “That’s not a good sign.”

Sam shook his head.

“And Klaus is out there alone with him, thinking that his brother is fine.” Dean sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “This is really not good.”

“We need to sit him down and explain things.” Sam pursed his lips. “But we should maybe give him enough time to calm down. I’d rather not have tangible ghosts swarming us again.”

“Agreed.”

Klaus was sitting at a small diner nearby the Shoemaker home, having Ben spy around for any interesting information. He had only ordered a coffee, just having enough coins in one of his pockets for the drink. It wasn’t much, but it was a whole lot more than what he’s had in the past. He looked longingly at the plate of waffles that was set down at the table next to him by a short waitress with a Southern drawl. The police officer at the table smiled politely back at her.

A shiver ran through Klaus, sweat forming on his brow. Nausea rumbled through his stomach, but he forced it down with another sip of coffee. He wantswantswants a pill so badly. Focusing on anything was getting harder.

A sigh from Ben brought Klaus’s attention to his brother. “Anything?”

Ben shook his head. “Not unless you want to know that the guy at the bar likes to hit on women that are twenty plus years younger than him. He hides his wedding band in his back pocket.”

Klaus scrunched his nose. “Gross. I didn’t need to know that, Benny.”

His brother snorted and took a seat at the bench on the other side of the table, resting his hands in front of him as he slouched. “Welcome to my life.”

“Life, you say?”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

“Make me.”

Ben made an adorable annoyed face. Klaus loved it.

The brothers sat silently together, Klaus occasionally sipping at his coffee (disgusting, why did people like this stuff?) and Ben watching him with that faraway look in his eye that he always got whenever Klaus ate or drank anything.

An idea popped into Klaus’s head. “Hey, Ben, we should try to have you eat something.”

Eyes wide, Ben leaned forward. “Can you do that?”

Klaus shrugged. “I have no idea.” He pushed his coffee forward. “Here, try it with the coffee.”

Ben frowned. “I don’t want to drink your breakfast.”

“Why? Think you’ll get my cooties?” He waggled his brows.

A roll of the eyes. “No, idiot. You’re skinnier than a bean pole and anything with carbs will keep you alive.”

“Rude,” Klaus pushed it a tad closer. “I want to test my theory and I have no more money. Drink it.”

Ben scowled, but he obeyed, reaching his hand forward. The scowl was replaced with curiosity, and Klaus grinned.

It was beginning to get easier to make Ben corporeal. Klaus recognised the feeling his powers gave him after having done it a few times now. It was still a little difficult, and he couldn’t force it. It was more like . . . he had to feel a connection between him and Ben, a mutual want of making Ben part of the real world. Like they were building a bridge together and met in the middle. It was weird.

Ben wrapped his hand around the warm drink, pleasant surprise overtaking his face. “I can feel how warm it is,” his brother whispered. Klaus’s heart became all gushy.

Cautiously, like the mug might fall at any moment (which, fair, Klaus was still practicing), Ben brought it to his lips and took a tentative sip. The change was instantaneous.

“Holy hell that’s amazing,” Ben moaned, slurping down more of the drink without a care. “It’s so warm .”

Klaus beamed. “It worked!” He threw his hands into the air. Some patrons around the diner cast the two strange looks, but Klaus didn’t care. It worked . Ben could have breakfast with him for real! Well, at least coffee. Klaus wanted to try waffles next, knowing that Ben would likely want his favorite food after months of not being able to taste anything.

Klaus’s musings came to a halt as tears streamed down Ben’s face. “Ben?” Klaus reached forward, fingers brushing away ghostly tears. They didn’t stop. “What’s wrong?”

“I . . . I can taste it. I can feel it. Klaus . . .” Ben grabbed Klaus’s hand and squeezed hard. “ Thank you .”

A lump formed in Klaus’s throat, eyes beginning to sting. “Of course, Benny,” he forced out. It came out as more of a wheeze. He coughed and quickly brushed away tears from his own lashes. “Gotta have someone eat my leftovers.”

Ben huffed, lips turning up slightly. “I’m gonna force it down your throat first.”

Klaus placed a hand on his chest. “My own brother, threatening to kill me. WIth food, no less!”

Ben laughed at that, tears beginning to dry. Pride welled up in Klaus’s chest.

“Got any news on the latest crazy stroke victim?” the policeman asked, piquing Klaus’s interest. He tilted his head towards the table, where the man had a phone to his ear and a fork halfway to his mouth. “Jill, you say? That’s terrible. My daughter was friends with that girl.” He sighed.

Klaus raised a brow at Ben. His brother just hummed in agreement.

Huh. Maybe they do have a way of speaking without really speaking. Awesome.

“Yeah, went to the same highschool. Whitmer.”

They had a name, a school, and potential friends of the victim.

Klaus didn’t wait for the call to end, already down the street before the waitress came back for the policeman’s check.

Sam got a call soon after they had breakfast from a gas station, the number being one he didn’t recognise.

“Sam Winchester,” he answered, Dean giving him a wary look.

“This is the same Sam who gave me his number at Donna’s place, right?” a girl’s voice echoed through the small speaker.

Sam quirked a brow. “Charlie?”

The girl sighed in relief on the other end. “Yeah. It’s me.”

After the group had split yesterday, Sam had given his number to Charlie, the blonde girl who had stood up for Donna, and who Klaus had said had a ghost following her. If she ever had any problems, he wanted her to call, just in case. He didn’t think she would call so soon.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, um . . .” Charlie choked up, breath coming out in uneasy stutters. “No. No, it’s not alright.”

Sam sat up. “What’s wrong?” Dean perked up beside him.

“It’s . . . my friend, Jill. Do you remember her from the funeral?” At Sam’s silence, she went on, “Nevermind. She and I were on a phone call last night and she . . . she said it!”

“Said what, Charlie?”

“It was just a joke! But she said it, Bloody Mary, three times in the mirror, and then this morning they found her dead in her bathroom.”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he smacked Dean’s shoulder a few times. A quiet and upset ‘dude’ escaped his brother’s grumbling lips, but the other hunter started up the car. “Charlie, it’s okay.”

“What’s--What’s happening?” Charlie asked, voice shaking.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Sam glanced to Dean. “Where are you right now?”

She gave them the address. “We’ll come pick you up,” he said. “Would you mind helping us get into Jill’s house so we can have a look around?”

“I . . . I guess I could tell her mom that I want a chance to say goodbye to her in private. It might give you guys a bit of time.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” Sam said. He smiled. “This is a huge help. We’ll stop this before more people are hurt.”

Once they entered Jill’s house through the window, the hunters took out their gear to search around the room for any clues. Dean had his EMF, while Sam had an ultraviolet light. He turned the blinds down once the window was closed tightly.

“So, what do you think this is?” Charlie asked nervously. She had her arms crossed over her chest, still upset, but willing to hear them out over this. “I mean, you seemed to believe Lily over what she said about Bloo--” she stopped herself, “you know.” She bit her lip. “It’s not real, right? It’s just a stupid game and this is all coincidence?”

Sam glanced to the girl from where he was in front of the standing mirror, scanning it with his UV light. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Mary is a ghost. We’ve had confirmation of that. Now, we just need to figure out why the trigger words are working here, and how she’s been killing people.”

Charlie took in a startled breath. “Wait . . . A ghost? So, it’s real?”

Sam nodded, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I know it might be a little hard to believe, but . . .” He waved a hand around the room to accentuate his point. The evidence was there.

The girl shuddered and tears sprung to her eyes. “That’s . . . and Jill really . . .” She choked on her words and placed a hand on her lips. “How do we stop it?”

“Well, once we’ve figured out the source of how the ghost is doing all of this, and where she’s buried, we’ll salt and burn the bones,” Dean piped in. Sam moved on to the bathroom, checking the cabinet first before moving the light around the mirror and it’s edges.

“Salt and burn the bones?” she asked.

“Only way to get rid of it. As far as we know, that is.” Dean and Sam shared a knowing look.

Perhaps, once Klaus grew more familiar with his powers, there would be an easier and less traumatic way of getting rid of ghosts. He did get rid of Shoemaker, after all. However, for now, this was the fastest way to stop the threat.

“Dean,” Sam stopped the light on some glowing ooze under the large bathroom mirror that he spotted with the light. “Help me take down the mirror.”

His brother and him moved the mirror over to Jill’s bed, flipping it over so Sam could scan it. Nothing showed up, but once Sam ripped off the paper backing, the light showed a handprint and the name “Gary Bryman” spelled out messily like it had been written by a finger. Charlie gasped beside them.

“Gary Bryman,” she said, face pale. “That’s the name of the boy that Jill had accidentally killed in a hit and run. She was so upset by it. She had been drunk, hadn’t really been paying attention to the road, and she blamed herself for years because of it.”

Pursing his lips, Sam looked to Dean. “I bet you that there’s a name on the back of Shoemaker’s mirror, too.”

Sure enough, the name “Linda Shoemaker” was scrawled on the back of Shoemaker’s mirror.

“That’s Donna’s mom,” Charlie said. “But, that doesn’t make sense. She died because of an accidental sleeping pill overdose.”

“I don’t think that overdose was so accidental,” Dean stated, looking just as grim as Sam felt.

“What are you doing here?” Donna’s voice dragged them away from the mirror and to the girl, who stood with her arms crossed in the doorway. “Charlie?”

Charlie stepped forward. “We were just looking into what happened to your dad.”

Donna’s face twisted in confusion. “He died because of a stroke.”

“Does a stroke cause people’s eyes to melt into a bloody mess?” Sam brought up.

The girl hesitated. “Well . . .”

“Exactly.”

“What were you saying about my mom?” She suddenly asked. “I heard you say her name.”

The three looked between one another, before Sam cleared his throat. “It’s possible that your mom might not have died accidentally.”

Donna bit her lip. “I think you need to leave.”

“Donna--”

“No, you’re talking nonsense,” she hissed. “My mom died of an overdose and my dad died of a stroke. Leave my house right now, or I’m calling the cops.”

Sam put up his hands placatingly. “Alright. We’ll go.” He nodded to Dean and the two headed for the door.

“Donna . . .”

“I’ll see you at school,” Donna clipped, not looking at her friend. Charlie hesitated, worry clear on her face, but eventually followed the hunters out.

“Now what?” Charlie asked quietly.

Sam gave her a small smile. “You’re gonna go to school, and we’re gonna find out more about Mary and why she’s killing those who have hurt others.”

“Do you think she’ll go after anyone else? Like Donna or Lily?”

Dean shook his head. “As long as you don’t say it, and as long as no one else does, everyone will be fine. Besides, it seems like Mary’s only got a grudge against those who have killed others.”

Charlie lost all the color in her face, but she sighed and hugged herself. “Okay.”

“We’ll be as fast as we can, just in case,” Sam soothed. “You still have my number, right?”

The girl nodded.

“Contact us if anything happens.”

With that, they parted ways.

Klaus found the school relatively easily. He’d never been inside of one before unless it was for a mission, and he and Ben took advantage of the rare sight. Students milled about the premises with backpacks and whatever clothes they wanted to wear. Some had skateboards (and they got yelled at by teachers for riding them indoors), some walked from their cars with a few of their friends, and others got off of the bus before entering the school. Klaus looked inside the bus, mystified by the vehicle. He’d never been in one before, and he’s sure he would have loved to be one of the ones to doodle on the seats and write crude words along the walls. Ben, also, was interested in the way a lot of the cliques worked, his brother finding it fascinating that each person had a role in the friend groups.

Deciding it was best to probably pretend that he was there for a tour so he wouldn’t be kicked out or whatever, Klaus made his way inside with the crowd, used to being around a wave of people. Warm bodies shuffled through metal detectors before they went separate ways to their classes.

Klaus stepped through the metal detector and gathered his shoes and jacket on the other side. He was glad he already spent what little money he had, because there was no way he trusted anyone here not to steal the meager amount he had.

He supposed the same applied to the drugs he used to have stuffed in his jacket pockets. Good thing he used those already.

Man, he could use a hit. A shiver wracked his body at the thought.

“You okay, Klaus?” Ben asked softly.

“Yeah, fine,” Klaus lied. It felt like ants were crawling underneath his skin.

Ben didn’t believe him. Truth was, Klaus didn’t really believe himself either. He wasn’t really in the right mindset to be lying well right now.

“Well . . . let’s find Jill’s friends,” Ben suggested. “I’m sure they’ll be easy to spot. They’ll be in mourning, right?”

Klaus nodded, head bobbing for just a bit too long. He needed a distraction.

The school day was long and boring, but at least it wasn’t the level of boring that Reginald’s lessons were. At least here the level the students were at wasn’t as advanced, and Klaus was only bored because he already knew everything that was being taught. Ben seemed to be enjoying himself enough, which entertained Klaus, since his brother would perk up whenever there was an answer he knew by heart and he would shout it out like an eager puppy. It was adorable, and it made Klaus internally laugh whenever a student who got the answer wrong would receive the most scandalized look from Ben.

All during the first couple of periods, he kept his eye out for any people that were depressed looking--or at least incredibly sad--but everyone looked like they were. He knew it wasn’t because they all knew Jill.

“I just don’t know who to talk to!” Klaus whined during the lunch break. He flopped across the table he was sitting at alone, a few students giving him weird looks. He stuck his tongue out at them.

“I can spy around again, like at the diner,” Ben offered.

Klaus sighed and frowned. “Yeah . . . please? I’ll wait here for you.”

Ben just beamed. He must feel so useful for the first time in so long, which made Klaus’s heart twist painfully. He gave his brother a warm smile back, and then Ben was off.

With another long sigh, Klaus rubbed at his face, ignoring the shaking fingers and sweaty palms, and just took a moment to breathe. Sobriety had never been so hard before. Before he started hitting the really hard stuff--before Ben died. He had had a lot more control back then, and when Dad had forced him sober, he had an easier time. Before, he had the knowledge that he could just pop a few pills once he was done with training or whatever, but now . . . 

Well, at the same time, though, he didn’t have a way to banish ghosts. Not that he was very good at it right now, but knowing that he had the option was such a blessing.

But his body was rebelling against him. It wantedwantedwanted drugs so badly. It was hard, but he wanted to do it. He wanted to quit.

He wanted to do better. For Ben.

A girl screamed, and his heart leapt to his throat.

Chapter Text

Sam and Dean just finished talking about Mary Worthington with the officer who worked on her case a long time ago, finding out some very interesting details. They found their ghost, for sure.

Mary had been murdered in her home in front of a mirror. Her eyes had been cut out near perfectly, surgically removed. As she had laid dying, she had tried her best to write her murderer’s name on the mirror, but died before she could finish it.

Sam figured out that that same mirror was in a shop in Toledo. It was easy to guess that her spirit was tied to the mirror. All they had to do now was destroy the mirror and hope that the killings stopped.

“How are we going to keep her in the mirror, though? She can jump from place to place, wouldn’t she just be able to make a new home elsewhere?” Dean asked, not taking his eyes away from the road.

Sam bit his lip, shifting in his seat. “I was thinking--”

“Not a good thing.”

Sam threw him a nasty look. “ I was thinking , that maybe we should say it.”

“Say the chant?” Dean raised a brow. “Neither of us have any guilt over someone who died. I mean, sure, we’ve killed tons of sons of bitches, but we don’t feel guilty about it.”

The younger hunter didn’t say anything, opting to stare out his window. He could feel Dean’s worried stare.

“Sam?”

“I’ll say it. In front of the mirror. That way Mary will come to it and we can kill her.”

Dean pulled off the road so fast that Sam was afraid they’d run into the ditch. His brother’s hand gripped his shoulder hard enough to hurt, and Sam looked up. “Is this about Jessica?”

Sam bit his lip and sniffed, running a hand over his chin. The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"Sam, we've been over this. It's not your fault ."

"You don't know that," Sam said.

"Yes, I do," said Dean. "How could it have been your fault, huh? Did you pin her to the ceiling? Did you set her on fire?"

"No--"

"Then it wasn't you ." 

Sam felt tears gathering behind his eyes, and he smiled brokenly at his brother. "You don't know everything."

"What?" The grip lessened.

"I haven't told you everything that happened. The reason why it's my fault."

Dean frowned, anger flashing through his gaze. "Then tell me."

Sam huffed and shook his head. "Well, then, it wouldn't work to summon Mary, now, would it?"

Dean growled and shook him a little. "We'll think of a different way. Find Klaus--"

"Klaus hates us," Sam said. "And besides, you were the one that didn't want him to get involved in the hunt."

"We'll think of a different way," Dean ground out again, starting the car back up as he removed his hand from Sam's shoulder.

Sam knew this would work. No matter what Dean said, he was going to do this.

Something was wrong with Klaus. He knew withdrawal when he saw it, but for some reason Klaus was sticking it out. He was proud of him, of course, but also severely worried. Worried that he couldn’t leave him alone anymore. One step off the path to recovery and his brother would spiral.

But Klaus had the drugs out of his system already, right? So . . . He shouldn’t be going through withdrawal. But it looked like withdrawal. Unless, of course, he had taken something in the time that Ben had been with Sam and Dean had watched his brother.

Should have stayed with him , he reprimanded himself angrily. He wasn’t too sure he could trust the hunters anymore. Not with Klaus, and apparently not with his own safety.

Trust wasn't easily given from the Hargreeves, anyway. They had each other. Wasn't that enough?

A piercing scream tore Ben away from his thoughts, causing him to whirl around so quickly he might have given himself whiplash if he was alive. A girl ran past the cafeteria and toward the front doors.

“Klaus!”

“Right behind you, buddy,” Klaus said, already running past Ben to catch up to the girl.

She seemed familiar as they came closer. So did the male ghost that was following her . . . Oh!

“Klaus, it’s Charlie!”

“Who?”

“Charlie,” Ben repeated. “The girl at Shoemaker’s funeral who stood up for Donna.” He gasped. “Sam gave her his phone number. Maybe she knows what’s up!”

Klaus’s nose scrunched when Ben mentioned the hunter, but he still came up to the girl and asked softly, “Charlie?”

Charlie whipped around, hands flailing wildly. One backhanded Klaus in the face, and he stumbled in surprise.

“ Ow !” Klaus held a hand to his cheek, his pale skin already turning red.

Charlie gasped, hands coming to cover her lips. “I am so, so sorry !”

“You totally deserved that,” Ben said.

“Rude, Benjamin.” Klaus glared. 

“What? You’re the one that scared her. You don’t sneak up on people that are clearly frightened.”

“That’s it, you’re out of the will.”

Ben raised a brow. “You have a will?”

“No,” said Klaus. “But once I write one up, I am not putting you in it.”

Ben pouted.

“U-Um,” Charlie brought their attention back. Her eyes darted to where Klaus had been looking, and back again. “Who are you talking to?”

Klaus smiled brightly. “Details,” he waved a hand. 

“Wait . . . I remember you,” Charlie pointed a finger. “You were with Sam and Dean at the funeral. You work with them, right?” Her eyes widened. “So then, you know about the ghost that’s killing people right now.”

Klaus nodded, interested in how she knew about that. “Did they tell you?”

Charlie blushed. “Well, sort of. I kinda figured it out, too . . .” She bit her lip. “So, you go to my school?”

“Uh . . .” Klaus glanced at Ben, who just shrugged. “Sort of? What I wanna know is: Why’d you bolt through the school screaming like a banshee?”

“Do banshees exist?” Ben piped in. “That sounds like something that would exist, right? If monsters are real and stuff.”

At the same time, Charlie tensed and mumbled out, “It’s nothing.” Ben should be more courteous when other people are talking, but honestly, he’s just gotten so used to no one hearing him and him blabbering in Klaus’s ear to keep his brother distracted that it’s kind of habit by now.

Klaus raised his brows and asked, “Sorry, what was that?”

Charlie looked aggravated, biting at one of her nails and keeping her eyes trained to her feet. “I just . . . I told Donna not to say it!”

“The Bloody Mary thing, right?”

Charlie paled and backed away like Klaus might hurt her. He held up his hands placatingly, giving her a winning smile. Or, at least, one that his brother thought was winning. It was rather jarring, actually. All teeth and near bloodless lips that stretched just a tad too wide. His brother needed to work on that. Ben just rolled his eyes.

“ Yes ,” Charlie said tensely, shivering despite the warmer air. Well, warmer than it had been as of late. Definitely warmer than Canada. Ben was getting off focus again. Dammit, Klaus and his annoying attention span that rubbed off on Ben. “I warned her, but then she . . . she said it. Three times in the bathroom mirror.”

Klaus hummed. “And now you think you’re being chased by a ghostie?”

She glared at him. “I am . I saw her in the reflective surfaces . . .” She wrapped her arms around herself and choked back a sob. “She’s coming to kill me!”

Klaus glanced around the area, but the only other ghost he saw was the male ghost that was crying next to Charlie. He carefully took her arms and tugged once. “Come on, we’ll make sure you’re okay.”

She sniffled. “You’ll take me to Sam and Dean?”

He winced. “Well, actually, we’re not on good terms right now, and I don’t have a phone . . .” he trailed off at her agitated features, “but if it’ll make you feel better, you can call them.”

Charlie nodded, already pulling out her phone. She made a strangled sound and shoved it at Klaus. “Call them! She’s in the phone screen.”

Klaus hesitantly took the device, a shudder running down his spine. “I will. Do you have the number?”

She rattled it off, taking hold of his jacket and curling in close. Ben just folded his arms while Klaus typed in the number. He didn’t understand why Charlie was suddenly so clingy. Even being afraid, people don’t seek comfort like that from someone they hardly knew. Suspicion flashed through Ben.

Klaus took her hand and led her further away from the school as he held the phone to his ear.

“Uh . . . hey, Sam.”

Entering their motel room was tense. Sam and Dean hadn’t spoken to each other since the fight in the car, and Sam knew his brother was pissed at him. Didn’t mean he was about to change his mind.

He just tossed his jacket onto his bed when his phone went off. Recognizing it as Charlie’s number, he picked up after the second ring. “Charlie?”

“Uh . . .” a familiar and nervous voice said from the other end, “hey, Sam.”

“ Klaus ?”

Dean sprung up from his droopy slouch on his bed to crowd the phone. Sam held up a hand to silence him as he noticed the questions burning in his eyes. They hadn’t heard anything from Klaus in days , and they were rightly worried about him. To hear from him so suddenly was both a relief and a cause for slight panic.

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen,” Klaus said, getting right to business. “I’m still mad at you two, but Charlie needs help. So I have elected to put our differences aside for the moment and keep her from being murdered in an ugly way.”

Sam glanced at Dean, his brother not hearing very much since the phone was pressed against Sam’s ear. “What happened to Charlie? Are you both okay?”

Klaus hummed. “Well, other than being chased by Mary herself, I think we’re pretty okay. Oh, and by the way, she can travel through ANY reflective surface, hence why I’m the one calling.” There were some muffled curses on the other end and a loud sound that had Sam leaning the phone away from his ear with a wince.

“Klaus?” He couldn’t help the worry that coated his tone. “Klaus!”

“Here, sorry,” Klaus’s voice came back. Sam relaxed minutely. “A car passed us and Charlie freaked. I took off my jacket so she could cover her eyes.”

“Where are you?” Sam brought out a pen and snapped his fingers so Dean could grab the notepad off the motel nightstand. He did so without hesitation.

There was a knock on the door. The brothers tensed.

“I’m here,” said Klaus.

Sam hung up and opened the door to see Klaus’s cheeky expression. He wasn’t impressed. Klaus shoved his way into the motel, Charlie in tow.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean demanded, taking Charlie from the boy and sitting her down on one of the beds. Charlie huddled under Klaus’s jacket, shivering from fear. Dean then went around the room collecting anything that was reflective and turning it around or placing it on the floor face down.

Klaus’s smile dropped and he folded his arms. “Rude. I thought I’d at least get a pleasant ‘hello, Klaus’ or even a ‘it’s so good to not see you mauled by a nasty ghost’.”

Sam gently grabbed Klaus’s chin to lift the boy’s eyes up to his. He checked for signs of drug abuse, and Klaus gave him a disgusted look.

“I didn’t take any drugs! Get off me.” He shoved Sam away, but the larger man barely moved. Holding his hands up placatingly, Sam stepped back to give Klaus his space. Klaus huffed and straightened out his shirt. “I’ve been tracking down Mary. Good thing, too, since Charlie probably would have been dead by now without me.”

Said girl whimpered and buried her head deeper into her knees. Dean finished his scouring of the room and sat beside her, placing a gentle hand on her back. Sam couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she slowly took off the jacket and looked around the room cautiously, her makeup smeared and eyes bloodshot.

“You’ve been on the case?” Sam asked. “Why?”

Klaus straightened out. “Because I want you guys to take me seriously! I want you to understand that I can take care of myself and that Ben will never hurt me.”

“We’re just worried, Klaus,” Sam explained. “We brought you into the case, but . . .”

“I’m not a child!” Klaus shouted, blue shimmering along his arms. Ben became visible for a moment, the boy blank-faced and eyes flicking between Sam and Klaus. Another ghost appeared in the corner, but it looked out of it and only focused on the bed, to Sam’s utter relief. Charlie’s eyes widened at the sight of Ben, not noticing the one behind her, and her gasp startled Klaus enough that he relaxed his hands.

Klaus took a deep breath and turned his dark eyes to Sam’s, rage hidden behind false calm. The blue disappeared, along with Ben and the ghost in the corner. “Listen to me. I haven’t been a child since I was two, and even then I was learning how to hold a knife before I was talking. Daddy dearest wanted us to kill by five, and we were doing missions for him by eight.”

Hearing that Klaus had a scarily similar upbringing to their own made something ugly in Sam’s chest cry out, sympathy leaking through his gaze. He could see the moment that Klaus put up his defenses again, brick walls dividing his soft inside from the cruel world around them, from the sympathy that Sam exuded. Sam knew then and there that Klaus was going to be family. Nothing else screamed “Winchester” like emotional constipation and rage followed by unhealthy coping mechanisms. He wanted to trust Klaus, like Dean had trusted him at that age.

Sam bit his lip and looked to Dean. His older brother just shook his head, eyes flitting to Charlie as he was whispering encouraging words to her. Sam sighed and looked Klaus up and down. “You’re sure?”

Klaus nodded, anger still simmering under the surface, his jaw clenched tightly. Sam could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

Slumping his shoulders as he sighed, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Alright. Alright, but no more going off on your own like that. We thought something bad happened.”

Klaus’s features softened and he relaxed his posture. A small smile passed his lips, his eyes focusing on something behind Sam. “Yeah, these two are worse than Diego and Mom.” He focused back on Sam. “I’m still mad, but we’ll call it a truce for now.” He held out a hand.

Sam took it with a grin. “Deal.”

“Now, then,” Klaus sauntered over to Charlie and flopped down beside her. “Why is Mary going after you?”

Charlie furrowed her brows. “I already told you. Donna said it in the bathroom and then she--she--” She choked.

Sam knelt down beside the girl, eyebrows pressed together and eyes knowing. “I don’t think that’s what he meant, Charlie,” he whispered. “Why is Mary going after you , when Donna is the one who said it? Who got hurt?”

Klaus’s hazel gaze flicked to something behind Charlie, and back again.

“I . . . I don’t know . . .” Charlie hiccupped.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” Klaus asked softly with a small wave to the corner, and Charlie froze. “Your boyfriend.”

Sam and Dean looked to one another, both with the same questioning glance. Charlie hiccupped again, then buried her face in Klaus’s shoulder.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I--I killed him.”

Ben raised a brow at Charlie, and the ghost of her boyfriend shouted and wailed, finally becoming more than a moping mess. Klaus winced at the sudden volume change, placing one hand over his ear and leaning away from the ghost.

“Yeesh, guy, lower the decibels,” Klaus grunted. He gently placed his other hand on Charlie’s head, giving her a soothing pat.

“What happened?” Sam asked, both to Klaus and Charlie. Klaus wisely stayed silent. This was Charlie’s time, and Ben was proud his brother didn’t interrupt with a crude joke or morbid humor.

“My boyfriend and I were together for a long time,” she said. She wiped away tears as she explained her story, not leaning away from the small comfort that Klaus gave. “I loved him. But he . . . he kinda scared me too, you know?” She shifted a little in her spot. “And one night at his house, we got in this fight. I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me.”

The boy in the corner was tearing at his hair, getting increasingly agitated. He hoped Klaus could calm him down, or, better, send him away like he did Shoemaker.

“And he said . . . ‘Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I’m gonna kill myself’.”

Ben could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. 

“And you know what I said?” She looked up at them, guilt and pain and resignation in her tone. “I said, ‘Go ahead’. And I left.” She shook her head, lip wobbling. “How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just . . .” she glanced up to Klaus, “I didn’t believe him, you know?” Tears streamed down her face. “I should’ve.”

She didn’t do anything wrong and yet the poor girl blamed herself over what that bastard did. Ben clenched his teeth, fingers digging into his arms where he had them folded.

“It’s not your fault,” Dean said. His eyes darted to Sam and back again, and Ben could tell there was a story there. He tucked it away to address at a later time.

Charlie just shook her head, the guilt that had eaten away at her for so long was too strong for mere words to fix. 

Klaus fixed his gaze on the man in the corner, lips pressed into a thin line. Ben wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but his brother lifted his hand and closed his eyes, and he understood. He was going to banish the ghost like he had with Shoemaker.

Pride swelled in Ben’s chest. It had only been a week since Klaus started his sobriety, but he was already improving so much.

Klaus’s hand began to shake, sweat beading along his brow. Sam and Dean shared a worried look, not entirely sure what he was doing. Blood dribbled down into his mouth, the hunters’ eyes widening in alarm.

“Klaus--”

One second, the wailing boy in the corner was pacing, and the next he was gone in a puff of smoke. Klaus grinned, letting his hand drop onto the duvet and the other one coming up to rub at his nose.

Charlie grabbed his face. Ben frowned at the action. “What happened? Why are you bleeding?” She trembled. “It’s not Mary, right?”

He shook his head, smile widening as he took her hands away from his face. “Nope! Just got rid of a nuisance.”

She bit her lip, lurching for the tissues to dab at his face. “It was a ghost, right?”

Ben and Klaus looked at her in surprise. Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m not dumb. You can see them without them trying to hurt you. You talk to one a lot. You even brought one here,” she gestured vaguely towards where Ben was, “earlier. I don’t really get it, but you have a connection to them.”

Klaus nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

She bit her lip. “You can get rid of Mary, too, right?” Her pleading eyes met his brother’s. “I don’t want to die.”

Klaus gave her a big grin. “That’s the plan! Plus, I got the OK from the bosses.” He gestured to Sam and Dean with a thumb.

Charlie seemed to realize they weren’t alone in the room. “Right. Thank you.” She smiled sincerely.

“Just stay in here, Charlie,” Sam said softly. “Don’t look at any mirrors or any reflective surfaces, and she can’t get you. You’ll be safe right here.” He pointed to the door. “We’ll knock three times in a specific pattern when it’s okay to look again.”

Charlie nodded and flashed another smile. The hunters smiled back before they grabbed Klaus and headed out the door. 

Chapter Text

The ride to the store was uneventful for Klaus. Most of his time was spent watching the world pass by outside the windows and giggling at comments Ben spouted about the hunters.

“Seriously, these two are such mother hens,” Ben had said earlier in the motel. And, yes, he was absolutely correct. If this was Sam and Dean’s way of saying they cared, he’d have to set some things straight.

He chuckled to himself. Straight. As if anything about him was straight.

Right, focus. He had to convince the brothers that he wasn’t some damsel in distress and could really help them out. It seemed like Sam was pretty convinced, especially since Klaus accidentally let some of his locked-up secrets spill through his carefully guarded fortress. He hadn’t meant to. He was just . . . so tired, and so needy and scared and wanting —

Yeah, so, he had let it slip to the hunter that he and his siblings were nothing but tiny toy soldiers to their dad and his grand schemes. And maybe he had let a little bit of his frustration and fear out, maybe a tiny bit of mania. But Sam had given him such a warm look, a look of understanding , and Klaus . . .

He shut up like a clam and buried his feelings deep, deep down like he always does and acted like what he just said didn’t affect him.

So.

Sam wasn’t a problem, really. He was warming up to Klaus and Ben just fine.

Dean, on the other hand . . .

The man had an older brother complex, kind of like Diego. Except his was ten times worse and he didn’t use knives to threaten his younger siblings to keep quiet about his squishy insides. Dean was not only a mother hen, but he was like a mother, father, and older brother all rolled up into one. And if he saw what he deemed as his little . . . sibling, child, whatever, was in danger or threatened, he went total mama bear on it. Klaus was kind of terrified of what would happen if Sam ever got hurt, honestly.

His mindset now applied to Klaus. Dean saw Klaus as his, whether it be friend or sibling or even just close acquaintance, and Dean was determined to keep him as safe as possible. Which was as frustrating as it was endearing. The only other person to act like that around him was Diego, and it made Klaus’s frozen heart warm just the tiniest bit.

Oh, who is he kidding? It was a melted puddle of goo at this point.

He was still mad at them though, and until they talked everything out, he was going to stay mad at them out of spite.

“You know, I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but you tend to trust people too easily. Especially if they’re nice to you,” Ben said to his right.

Klaus looked up from where he was fiddling with his fraying jeans and to his brother. “What?”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, you just trust people too easily. Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to trust strangers?”

With a roll of his eyes, Klaus huffed, “Har, har.”

His brother grinned. He shifted closer and his smile faded. “I’m serious, though. You forgave Sam pretty quick back there, all because he was nice.”

Klaus frowned and narrowed his eyes at his brother. “I didn’t forgive him. Not yet. We still need to talk about a lot. Especially about you.” Klaus waved a hand at his brother. “They should trust that you wouldn’t do something like the other ghosties. Because you’re . . . you’re you .”

Ben winced and sat back against the leather seats. “Klaus . . . there’s something I didn’t tell you. About the library, with Sam.”

Irritation flickered through Klaus. “Oh? Did he decide to say something even worse while I was away?” He glared holes into Sam’s head. The hunter glanced back at him and pursed his lips before starting a quiet conversation in the front.

“No,” said Ben. “It was . . . me.”

Klaus stopped glaring long enough to furrow his brows at his brother. “What do you mean?”

Ben sighed and the Horror shifted under his black leather jacket. He had Klaus’s full attention now. His gaze flicked from Klaus to the floor and back again. “Please don’t get upset.”

“I wouldn’t, Ben,” Klaus said. He meant it. No matter what Ben did, he could never make Klaus think anything less of him.

“I . . . I don’t know what happened, but I just got . . .” he ran a hand through his dark hair in frustration. “I got really angry and then the room got cold and the books started to shake.”

Klaus raised a brow. “They started to . . . shake?”

Ben bit his lip and looked down guiltily.

“Uh . . .” Because Klaus was never good at being articulate in situations like this. “Why is that . . . a bad thing?”

Ben rolled his eyes and folded his arms, glaring at Klaus. “Because! I made them shake! Some even fell off the shelves and I scared the librarians.” He whimpered and curled in on himself. “I’m dangerous. Even dead, I’m dangerous.”

And that, well, that just would not do. Klaus liked to pride himself on being able to calm Ben down from his downward spirals whenever his brother got just a little too close to that edge. Klaus may have jumped off that edge long ago, but not Ben. And he’d be damned if he ever let his brother follow him.

His hands glowed faintly as he took Ben’s shoulder and brought him around so they could look eye to eye. “Listen to me, right now.”

Ben, like a deer in the headlights, froze and kept his attention solely on his brother.

“You are not, and never will be, dangerous unless you want to be . You hear me? Dad was a horrible bastard that brainwashed us all, and gaslit you to hate yourself, but you are not like the other ghosts.”

He shook him a little. “You’re Ben . You don’t even . . .” He swallowed. “You don’t look like what you did when you died. You’re sane. You’re you , and if I have anything to say about it, you’ll continue to be you until the day I join you on the other side.”

“But what if the Horror helps in corrupting my mind? What if I end up like the other ghosts even when you try your hardest?”

Klaus shook his head. “Then I’ll just try harder , and the Horror can suck it.”

Ben whimpered and wrapped himself around Klaus like the octopus Klaus always teased him to be. Klaus just smiled and patted his back.

“You guys good back there?” Dean’s gruff voice sounded from the front.

Klaus nodded. “Yep. Just had to reassure the baby octopus that he’s the best brother in the world.”

Ben smacked the back of his head and Klaus laughed. He noticed Sam’s lips curl just the tiniest bit and hope grew in his chest. Yeah, they’d come around soon enough.

Dean pulled off to park alongside the street near the store, the hunters getting a long look at the building. It was still pretty bright outside, so they were probably scoping out the best way to get inside the store without tripping any alarms. At least, that’s what Klaus was hoping they were doing.

Until Sam said, “We’ll go in at nightfall, when no one’s around. We’ll use the crowbars to open the locks and smash Mary’s mirror.”

Klaus balked at them when Dean nodded. That was it? That was the plan? “You cannot be serious,” he said. “No, really.”

When they just gave him a confused tilt of the head, Klaus threw his hands in the air. “You can’t just walk in all willy-nilly into a locked-up store! They have monitors and cameras and freaking alarms .”

The hunters seemed to not have realized that. Klaus couldn’t believe it. They were supposed to be professionals!

“Well, what else are we supposed to do?” Dean asked. “We need to smash the mirror.”

At that moment, Klaus was reminded painfully of Luther. His brother was the same innocent, naïve boy. “Of course, we’re gonna smash it,” Klaus assured. “But we’re gonna make sure we don’t get caught along the way.”

“What do you propose we do?” Sam asked. It wasn’t in an annoyed tone, merely curious as to what he suggested. Klaus was pleasantly surprised that the man was taking him seriously. Dean raised a brow at him, and he smiled widely.

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking,” Klaus started. “When the guard locks up for the night, we send Ben in to turn off the cameras and alarms. I have enough control over my powers to have him physical for a couple of minutes. But after sending away the ghost earlier, I’m already kind of tired. My guess is I won’t be able to do much after I give you that.”

Ben beamed, excited at the prospect of being able to do something important.

The hunters nodded along, thoughtful looks on their faces. “Will you be incapacitated once you have him turn everything off?” Sam asked.

Klaus hadn’t even thought of that. “Uh . . . actually, I don’t know. But if so, I’ve always been good at being the lookout on missions.”

Ben grumbled under his breath at that, looking irritated. Klaus wasn’t entirely sure why. Did he think he wasn’t all that good?

Well, then again, he was usually high out of his mind when he was playing the lookout on missions. Maybe Ben had a point.

Dean snorted and shook his head. “Well, having a lookout would be nice. If things go south, though, we just want to know if you can run away or not.”

“Oh.” Klaus shrugged. “No clue.”

Sam hummed and opened one of the compartments in the front. He pulled out a burner phone, one of many , Klaus saw. “Here. Take this.” He held the device out to Klaus.

Klaus gaped as he took the phone. He had never had one before. They were allowed to have them at the Academy, sure, with specific numbers programmed in, but Klaus never had anyone he needed to call before. He had everyone he needed right there in the mansion. And when he left, he didn’t want to stay in contact anyway. Life on the street made having a phone too expensive anyway.

He turned it over in his palm, swallowing thickly. “Thank you, Sam.”

The hunter nodded with a neutral expression, like he hadn’t given Klaus something he never thought he would have. “We’ll get you a real one later. For now, use this one to contact one of us or someone who can help. Our numbers are already programmed into it, as well as a few other hunters.”

Dean smiled, pride shining through at his younger brother. Klaus was speechless, so he just nodded quietly and pocketed the device.

“Wow, if I knew a phone would get you to shut up, I would have given you one ages ago,” Ben spoke up.

Klaus shoved his brother. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the fact that he can do that now . “Shut up, Ben.”

Ben laughed.

Night came a lot faster than Klaus thought it would. The four of them didn’t talk much after Sam had given him the phone, but Klaus was happy enough to people watch and fill the silence with mindless chatter. The hunters were annoyed at first, but once they learned to tune him out, they didn’t mind as much. He was like their own radio that didn’t require them to turn on the car.

Klaus giggled at that idea. He could be a great radio. A pink radio, though, because he had to have some class. Maybe with sparkles.

“You guys ready?” Dean asked Klaus, turning around in his seat. Klaus was brought from his thoughts and noticed how dark it had gotten, the streetlight above them flickering once. He glanced to Ben, who nodded determinedly. Klaus nodded to the hunters, and they all exited the classic car.

All four snuck up to the side of the building, Ben phasing through the wall as soon as they got close. Dean stood near the sidewalk, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think that they were up to something. Which, they totally were. Sam kept an eye on Klaus in case something bad happened.

Klaus closed his eyes and focused on Ben on the other side of the wall, feeling his brother’s soul faintly. He willed his brother to become corporeal (“ Really, Ben? Using big words I don’t understand? ”) and felt the familiar tug in his gut when Ben would become physical. He kept his focus until Sam’s hand patted his shoulder and he heard him say that Ben knocked on the window. He released his hold on his brother and instantly felt like he was run over by a bus.

“Oh, yeah, no, not doing anything for a while.” He chuckled humorlessly and leaned against the wall with a shiver. Had it always been so cold out?

“You good?” Sam asked worriedly.

Klaus waved a hand. “As good as I can be,” he said. “Go open the door so I can crash.”

Sam quirked a smile and did as was told, cracking open the lock with a swift twist of his crowbar. Klaus followed behind the hunters and met up with Ben inside, his brother giving him a worried look. Klaus gave him a thumbs up and a grin.

“You pushed yourself too far today,” Ben bit at his lip and paced next to him as Klaus leant against the really fancy wardrobe near the entrance.

“I’ll be fine , Benny,” he said. “Just need a nap after all of this is over.”

Ben still paced, and Klaus didn’t stop him.

Dean had taken up position at the front window, keeping an eye out for anyone. Klaus knew that the hunter knew he wasn’t at top speed right now, but it still kind of hurt that the man didn’t trust him to be the lookout. He should probably talk to someone about his insecurities.

Eh, never did before, why start now?

“So, what’s the plan again?” Klaus asked the man.

Dean didn’t spare a glance his way, but the muscles in his jaw clenched. “Sammy had the idea to summon Mary to her mirror and smash it.”

“Huh. You don’t like that idea at all.”

“Nope, but I couldn’t think of anything else and . . .” he growled low and fidgeted with the crowbar. “I’m trying to be better at trusting him.” The hunter’s eyes met Klaus’s. “And you.”

The sincerity in his gaze was unexpected, but welcome. Klaus smiled softly, giving him a nod. “Thanks.”

Dean just grumbled and drew his gaze back outside. Klaus snorted. He really was just like Diego.

He knew the moment that Mary was summoned when he felt a harsh chill run down his spine and an aura of evil, hatred, diediedie settled over the shop. He shot up like a live wire had run through him, eyes wide and breath hitching.

“What is it?” Dean asked.

“She’s here.”

Klaus didn’t wait to explain before he was running off towards the back where Sam had gone, heart pounding painfully in his chest and leaving Dean and Ben standing bewildered behind him.

“Klaus, wait!” Ben shouted.

He would not wait. This ghost was dangerous, and she had her attention solely on Sam. And damn him if he didn’t want his new friend to escape before the worst ghost Klaus had ever faced was going to tear Sam to shreds.

He could feel the bloodlust oozing from Mary, claws poised right above Sam’s neck, ready to strike.

“Sam!” Klaus ran in on the scene before him, Sam on his knees and the crowbar laying useless on the ground. Mary was there, in the mirror, smirking down at the man, her dark hair matted and covering her eyes so that only small pinpricks of white shone through. Her dress, torn and ragged, hung from her shoulders like a dying lily. Her skin was freakishly white, and looked more like leather stretched across sharp bone than human skin.

Klaus shoved the man behind him, blood already pouring down Sam’s cheeks. He didn’t even have any time to check on him before Mary’s full attention was directed at him. He gasped, head feeling like it was being crushed under a mound of brick, his throat constricting.

“You killed him,” a haunting voice rasped from the mirror. “You killed your own brother. Let him be torn to shreds by the monsters in his chest. You’re the reason that Ben won’t be able to live a long, happy life.”

Klaus fell to his knees, choking on air and tasting iron. His cheeks were warm, rivulets of thick crimson trailing from his eyes.

Next to him, Sam breathed heavily while broken glass surrounded him like a broken halo. He struggled to grab the crowbar, likely wanting to help Klaus. He doubted the man would be able to do anything before Klaus was dead.

There was a loud crash, the sound of glass sprinkling across the floor, and then Klaus could breathe again. He coughed wetly as blood stopped pouring from his eyes, his head left with a killer headache.

“—laus! Klaus! Can you hear me?”

“Benny?” Klaus glanced up into his brother’s worried face. Ben collapsed with relief, reaching out to cup Klaus’s cheeks and being unsuccessful as his hands passed right through. It distressed him further, so Klaus made him corporeal.

“No, don’t use your powers right now, Klaus,” Ben grabbed Klaus’s hands despite his protest. “You’ve already used up so much energy today and you just about died .”

Klaus shrugged and leaned into his brother. “But I want Ben hugs because they’re the best and make everything better.”

Ben tensed as the Horror shifted under his clothes, but Klaus didn’t care. He sighed and relaxed fully against Ben’s chest, which resulted in Ben making a strange warm sound and holding Klaus tighter.

“You okay?” Dean asked Sam, taking hold of the man’s arm. Sam nodded, winded and just as hurt as Klaus, if not more. “We’re talking about this--”

He was cut off by crunching glass and hissing. Klaus tensed and peeked around Ben to see Mary crawling through the broken mirror on all fours jerkily, her head twisted at an unnatural angle and mouth curled in a snarl. She stood at her full height and the intense pain returned. Klaus cried out while Sam and Dean stumbled. Ben’s grip on Klaus tightened.

Mary didn’t stop, shuffling towards them and twitching unpredictably. Her feet stepped across the glass shards, making the remaining pieces splinter. Klaus’s vision was whiting in and out, wave after wave of pain assaulting him. Rage like he’s never felt before exuded off of Mary like a ravaging storm.

They were going to die here.

At least it wasn’t at his father’s hands.

“ No ,” Ben said above him, letting go of Klaus and standing. Klaus nearly whined, but stopped at the strange way that Ben held himself. Something was off. He looked too stiff, arms laying loose off of his shoulders. His voice echoed, several voices mixing together into an amalgamation of rasps. It was ancient, yet youthful.

Klaus looked up, noticing the blood also pouring from Ben’s eyes. Ben’s eyes . . . that didn’t look like his normal dark brown, but rather, a startling dark yellow with slitted pupils. Klaus gaped.

The Horror .

Tentacles burst from Ben’s chest, catching hold of a very surprised Mary and tearing her to shreds. Those shreds were then shredded further until she was nothing more than a bloody mess on the floor. The pieces then melted into the floor, until nothing remained but shards of glass.

The pain vanished and Klaus slumped forward. Dean and Sam did the same behind him, Sam letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Well . . . you weren’t joking about the monsters in Ben’s chest,” he said.

Klaus chuckled. “As if I’d ever lie about Ben’s amazingness.”

Ben crouched down beside Klaus, worry written in every part of his frame. His eyes were still that weird, golden color, but he seemed like himself again. The tentacles that had destroyed Mary now wrapped themselves around Klaus’s thin body and cradled him to Ben’s chest. “Klaus?”

Klaus smiled up at Ben. “Thanks for the save, Benny. Extra waffles are in order, I’d think.”

Ben huffed a wet laugh, running his fingers through Klaus’s messy curls. “Idiot.”

“Yeah, but your idiot.”

Ben tapped his cheek in response.

“This has got to be like, what . . . 600 years bad luck?” Dean asked Sam before Klaus rightly passed the hell out.

Chapter Text

“What do you mean she had a thing for me?” Klaus asked, flabbergasted.

“Dude, she was totally leaning in for a kiss before we left,” Ben pointed out.

Klaus shook his head. “Nope. No way am I that oblivious.”

Ben scoffed. “You are that oblivious.” He frowned. “I don’t like that she was all up in your space, either. She’s still grieving her boyfriend.”

Klaus flung his arms wide. “Well it’s not my fault I’m so charming!”

“Oh, is that the word you’re going to use? I would have thought vexatious.”

“Benny,” Klaus whined. “You know I don’t know big words like that.”

Ben smirked. “All the more reason to use it.”

After letting Charlie know that the danger was gone and leaving her with a pleasant goodbye, the four piled into the Impala and set off once more for Bobby's place. Klaus wasn't too happy about it at first, until they told him that it was because they wanted more information on what happened to the other children that were born on the same day as him and his siblings.

"That, and we want you to meet him because Bobby is awesome," Dean said with a grin.

Klaus raised a brow. “Yeah? How so?”

“Well, for starters, he’s got the most knowledge collected on everything that goes bump in the night. If you have a question, he’s got an answer,” Sam said, smiling wide.

“He’s also the oldest hunter we’ve met, and still going strong,” Dean added. “He tends to provide cover on lies, like if we pretend to be law enforcers of some sort.”

“Like when you pretended to be FBI when visiting me in the hospital.”

Dean smirked. “Yep. If the staff had questioned it, we would have given his number to them to sell the lie.”

Klaus mulled over that. “Hold up, you said the oldest hunter you’ve met? How old is this guy?”

Dean hummed. “I think late fifties, early sixties?” He glanced to Sam. “Do you know?”

“He’s fifty-five,” Sam said.

Klaus raised a brow. “And he’s the oldest ? You guys don’t know a whole lot of hunters, do you?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, but that’s not the issue. In this line of business, people tend to die a lot quicker and messier than others. Hunters just don’t get a happy ending with an apple-pie life.”

“That sounds awful,” Ben said.

Klaus relayed and agreed, “Sounds terrible.”

Dean shrugged and Sam just looked out the window. Something was up with Sam, ever since the shop. He hadn’t said a word about what Mary had gone after him for (though Klaus hadn’t said anything either, so who was he to judge?), nor did he seem to want to talk to Dean about anything. All the attempts that Dean had made were either ignored or given one word answers.

Sam would talk to Klaus just fine. He actually seemed pretty excited to talk to him. It made Klaus both happy and worried. Sam and Dean had a closer connection than Klaus did with any of his siblings back at the Academy, and he knew that this behavior wasn’t right.

Klaus didn’t know why, but he really didn’t like it. The atmosphere was heavy, and he hated that he couldn’t just summon Ben and have his more affectionate brother knock some sense into the older brothers (Ben banned him from using his powers after the shop incident since he had been out cold until noon, nose sluggishly bleeding, and skin unnaturally pale and cold to the touch). He supposed the only one available to fix things would be him. Try as he might, though, the atmosphere refused to shift into a lighter tone. Guess he’d just have to break it completely.

“Hey, did I ever tell you guys that I once shoved thirty-seven crackers in my mouth and downed an entire bottle of Jack Daniel’s all while trying to sing the Canadian National Anthem?”

The looks he got from the two up front was hilarious . Klaus burst into uncontrollable giggles, the horrified faces staring back at him turning into complete befuddlement. Ben, at his side, joined in.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Sam asked, lips twisted in a crooked imitation of a smile. Klaus supposed he was hoping it was a lie.

“I was dared to by this really nice fellow with a curly mustache and a unibrow,” Klaus said once his giggles died down. “He bet me twenty dollars. And, hey, free alcohol.”

Everyone tensed slightly at that. Klaus hummed and kicked his feet up so they lay between the Winchesters. “Yeah, he was a great guy. I think his name was Julio? Or maybe it was Jeffery. After like the second verse, he gave up trying to get me off the bar and handed me the twenty. Honestly, I was the best chorus girl they could afford.”

Dean smacked his feet off the back of the bench. Sam just snorted. Klaus pouted, but internally grinned when the tension dissipated.

“So, this phone, can I call anyone on it?” he asked.

Dean shrugged. “Sure. Oh, and before I forget--” The man pulled out his wallet and passed a few bills to Klaus. “Keep these on you in case we get separated again and you need food.”

Klaus gulped as he took the money, mind instantly cataloging how many drugs he could get from the small amount. Goosebumps ran along his arms and he hastily shoved them back towards the man. “Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

Dean didn’t take the money back. Neither did Sam. Instead, Dean threw him a determined look and said, “I want to trust you, Klaus. Besides, if you really want to get clean, you’ll be able to make Ben stop you before you run out for any . . . temptations.”

Klaus shook his head. “I never listened to Ben in the past. You think he’d be able to stop me now?”

“I think he’ll be able to physically stop you from leaving, yes,” Dean answered. The blind faith the man had in him was astounding.

Klaus glanced at his brother. Ben was smiling wide, pride in his gaze. Sam, too, seemed pretty sure that Klaus could be trusted with this. They all believed in him staying clean. It was terrifying.

He really didn’t want to disappoint them, like he had countless times before. He didn’t want to see that irritated or downtrodden look that his family had given him time and time again.

“O-Okay . . .” He pocketed the money. “Thank you . . .”

“No problem,” Dean said. The man’s smile only served to make Klaus guiltier. He squished himself down further into his seat, hunching his shoulders up to his ears.

“Now that I think about it, we should probably go clothes shopping, too,” Sam said. It was the first time he had started a conversation in hours. Klaus perked a little at that.

“You’re right. Klaus has only one change of clothes, and it’s all the same depressing black.”

“Hey!” Klaus protested.

Dean smirked.

“He’s got a point. Plus, I remember you telling me a few months ago how much you wanted to wear that neat red skirt in that one shop window.” Ben reminded him.

“Don’t call it neat , Benny,” Klaus said with an air of flamboyancy. “It was a gorgeous red skirt that would compliment that checkered scarf we saw a few weeks ago.”

Sam raised a brow. “A skirt and scarf?”

Klaus nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Ben and I walked past this boutique like a month or two ago and we saw this really pretty red skirt that was knee length and had pockets, and the flair ,” he pretended to swoon. “With that and the scarf, I’d be the hottest damn thing in town.”

They didn’t question his sense of style, though Sam did give him a curious look. “What’s it like, wearing a skirt?” the hunter asked.

Dean gave Sam a scandalized glance. “Nope. Only one of us gets to wear cute things, and it’s going to be the one that looks the cutest. You’re a giant of a man, Sam, and no matter how long you grow your hair you won’t convince me otherwise.”

“I wasn’t planning to! I like plaid, thank you very much,” Sam grumbled. “I just wondered.”

Klaus laughed, glowing with warmth at being called cute. “To be fair, it does feel less restricting, and you’d look badass beating up monsters in a rose-colored dress.”

Sam chuckled. “I bet. We’ll leave that to you, though. Like Dean said, I could never pull it off, and he’s got too much testosterone to try.”

“I would rock a tiara and heels and you know it,” Dean retorted.

After a good round of laughter, the car felt much more lively and the stifling atmosphere was gone. Klaus felt so safe with these two. Back at the Academy, Reginald would have beat him with that stupid cane had he walked around in skirts and dresses like he wanted to. The only ones who accepted that side of him were his siblings, especially Allison and Ben, who encouraged him and had fashion shows with him. Luther was the only one who was squeamish around the subject, but he always just chalked it up to “Klaus being Klaus”.

“Okay, they’re on my better side now,” Ben mumbled to him. Klaus nodded, feeling the same.

With a content sigh, Klaus pulled out the burner phone and raised a brow at his dead brother. “Do you remember the other’s numbers?”

Ben scoffed. “Of course I do. Who first?”

“Diego.”

Ben rolled his eyes. “Should have guessed.” He relayed the number as Klaus punched it in.

Klaus hesitated to press the “call” button, nerves spiking. He hadn’t talked to anyone since the funeral, and no one had looked for him while he was gone. He just assumed that since he had been basically “heartless” during Ben’s service that they hated him now. Didn’t help that he tried to tell them that he could see Ben and they had rightly lashed out in anger towards him.

So, should he really call them? Would they be annoyed? Angry? Would they ask him to lose their number? What if they hung up as soon as they heard his voice? Or worse, they wouldn’t recognize the number and not even answer.

He didn’t know if he could handle something like that. He loved his idiotic siblings and didn’t want them to hate him more than they already did.

He apparently hesitated long enough that Ben grew concerned. “Klaus?”

“Hmm?” Klaus tried to give Ben a carefree smile, but his brother frowned and folded his arms.

“Just press the button.”

The façade faded. “What if--”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Ben said, smiling kindly. “Now talk to our knife-happy brother.”

Klaus chuckled and pressed the button before he could back out. He fiddled with his jacket sleeves as he waited for the call to go through.

He wasn’t prepared for the sound of his brother’s irritated voice to answer with a gruff, “What?”

“. . . Diego?”

Silence. A sharp inhale followed by clattering. “Klaus?” Diego’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Klaus said. He smiled nervously.

“Oh my--” the sound was muffled when Diego shouted, “Guys! Guys, it’s Klaus !”

There was more clattering and he heard someone running towards Diego. “Klaus?” Allison’s voice piped up.

Klaus raised his brows in surprise. “Wait, how many of you are there right now?”

“Everyone,” Diego answered. “Well, except for Vanya. She’ll be back soon, though. Man, Klaus, we thought you were dead or something.”

“When we hadn’t heard from you for months, we assumed the worst,” Allison added.

“So what happened?” Luther asked innocently. “Are you in rehab or something? You don’t have a phone, so you gotta be calling from somewhere.”

Klaus chuckled at the offended “ Luther! ” that Allison gave at that. His brother was right to assume, after all. “I mean, something like that. Not in rehab, but I am trying to get clean.”

“You are?” Diego asked, sounding surprised. “Um . . . well, good job, Klaus.”

“Yeah, we’re proud of you,” Allison said. She sounded like she didn’t quite believe him but was giving him the benefit of the doubt. Best he could get, he supposed.

Klaus chuckled again. They were all terrible at things like this. He decided to quit torturing them. “So, now I’m travelling the roads with two awesome dudes in their classic car and beating up monsters.”

The line went silent, the only sound faint breathing. He had to check to make sure the call didn’t drop, before Diego shouted, “You what ?”

“Who are they? Do they know about the Umbrella Academy?” Luther asked.

“Why are you with strangers, Klaus?” Allison sounded so alarmed. “Where are they taking you? And monsters ?”

“Yeah!” Klaus chirped. “Sam and Dean Winchester. They go around the United States and fight monsters! Like ghosts and vampires and stuff.”

“You’re not even in Canada anymore?” Diego demanded. “Where are you? I’ll go pick you up--”

“Aaaaand that’s my cue,” Klaus waved around a hand. “Just wanted to tell you all that I’m still alive and well. Or, at least, as well as I can be--”

“Klaus--!” All three voices shouted.

“Tootles!” He hung up.

Ben beamed. “That went really well!”

Klaus smiled back.

Sam found that he really liked Klaus’s presence. His mindless chatter wasn't annoying, not really, since they didn't actually need to pay attention, and it brought an atmosphere that felt wholesome. Safer.

Sure, he was hyper and quick to change subjects (Sam is fairly certain that he did it on purpose to avoid talking about certain things), but he was funny and eased tensions like it was natural. He was quick to compliment and knew what to say to help someone feel comfortable around him.

He could tell that Dean, especially, needed the soothing atmosphere that Klaus brought, since his brother was anxious about where their dad was. It didn’t help that the secret that Sam refused to tell was eating away at Dean. His brother looked like he was always seconds away from shaking the information loose from him.

He didn’t dare tell him, though. Not after . . . well, he was just terrified that he was even more of a freak than he already was, and that Dean would see that and kick him out.

He knew it was probably a dumb assumption, since Klaus was still there with them despite his powers (which he wanted to talk about with Klaus desperately), but Sam couldn’t help it. He had always been the freaky one of the family, not wanting to kill all the monsters they came across, not wanting this lifestyle, wanting to be a lawyer of all things. With this secret, he could make things worse.

He bottled it all up, because he didn’t want what happened to be a weird, one-time thing and have it never happen again. Dean shouldn’t get involved unless it came back.

Maybe.

The rest of the drive was spent listening to Metallica and occasionally hearing Klaus talk to Ben. He had called someone earlier, and it sounded really important, so Sam had turned down Dean’s music and tried hard not to listen in. He assumed it was Klaus’s family, from the way he had nervously talked. He was a lot lighter once the call was over.

Once they pulled up to the familiar junk yard, Sam found himself smiling wide. He had missed Bobby. It had been two years since he had seen the grumpy hunter, and he wanted to spend some time just talking to him.

Dean pulled the car around to an empty space on the lot and parked it. Sam didn’t hesitate to step out and head for the door while Dean grabbed their supplies and introduced Klaus to the property.

It only took two knocks for Bobby to answer. The gruff man’s eyes widened when he saw Sam. “Sam . . .”

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam greeted with a big grin.

Bobby gripped Sam tight and hugged him fiercely. “It’s good to see you, boy.”

“You too.” Sam melted into the hug. Bobby smelled like motor oil and chili, a pleasant combination that reminded Sam of home.

Bobby gave him a hard pat and pulled back to get a good look at him. “How was the college life, son?”

Sam nodded, trying not to get choked up. “Good. I, uh, had a full ride.”

Bobby shook his head. “Always knew you would be doing great things with that brilliant brain of yours. What brings you here?”

He could sense Dean come up behind him before his older brother made himself known. “Hey, Bobby!” Dean clapped his hand onto Bobby’s shoulder, grinning wide.

Behind them, Klaus gave a hesitant wave. Bobby raised a brow.

“Bobby, meet Klaus,” Sam introduced. “Klaus, this is Bobby.”

Klaus smiled wide. “Enchanté,” he said with a bow. “And who’s the lovely lass?”

All three hunters exchanged confused glances. Klaus’s smile faded and he bit his lip.

“Oh,” he said. “I see.”

Sam understood immediately. “There’s a ghost here?”

Klaus nodded and straightened out. “I didn’t notice the blood stains until after I said something. Whoops!”

Bobby took a step forward. “What’s this about ghosts?”

Sam gave him a quick smile and placed a hand on Klaus’s shoulder. “Klaus can see the dead.”

Slowly, Bobby’s jaw dropped. “Like a psychic?”

“Yeah, but ten times cooler,” Klaus winked.

The oldest hunter looked around himself. “And, there’s a ghost here, now?”

Klaus nodded, then flapped a hand around. “But don’t worry! She won’t hurt anybody. She’s kinda like Ben!”

“Ben?”

Dean chuckled. “We’ll catch you up on everything. Now, where’s the chili? I can smell it from here.”

Chapter Text

Bobby and the Winchesters were piled around Bobby’s coffee table in the living room (at least, that’s what he assumed it was), bowls of chili already eaten. They leaned back on the sofa, the older hunter looking bewildered at the knowledge dump the Winchesters shared. The blonde woman that Klaus met at the door waved politely to Ben as he entered, her chest dripping blood down her nice, flower-patterned blouse and onto the floor. He gave a hesitant smile in return, not used to other ghosts acknowledging him, and definitely not in a nice way.

Ben had left Klaus to explore the house, wanting to listen in to the conversation downstairs and trusting his brother not to suddenly combust if he wasn’t with him for five minutes. Didn’t mean he wasn’t anxious to get back to him soon, though. It was an itch, a knowledge that Klaus could be getting into something dangerous without knowing--or with knowing, because it’s Klaus--and not having his brother there to protect him.

"So, the kid's a medium," Bobby stated. "I've met some psychics in my time; it's not so different."

Sam sighed and ran a hand through shaggy brown locks. "I wish it were that simple. It's more than seeing ghosts. He's able to make them real without them having any ill intent, and can send them away with a thought."

"And that's all we know so far. Who knows, he might have more abilities that we're unaware of," Dean said.

Bobby took off his ball cap and ran a hand over his beard. "That's . . . really useful."

The Winchesters nodded. Dean said, "If he can get a handle on all of the stuff that we do, he'd be a huge advantage in the fight."

"He’s still just a kid, though,” Sam brought up, which Ben rolled his eyes at. “Not that that’s a bad thing. We started young, too. It’s just . . .”

“We’d prefer it if the kid had a normal life for a bit longer,” Dean said.

“Sounds to me like he’s never had a normal life.” Bobby sat forward.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and picked at his nails. “Well, you know what we mean. As normal as he can get.”

Dean leaned forward into Bobby’s space and said, “We found the kid tied up, beaten to a pulp, and locked in the trunk of a car. His system was pumped full of drugs and he’s still having a hard time staying away from temptations, even though he’s been sober for almost an entire week.”

Bobby’s brows furrowed at that. “Kid was drugged?”

Dean shook his head. “Did it himself. He’s apparently been doing it for a long time, too. Please, Bobby, just take him in for a little while? Show him the ropes, let him be a kid. I don’t know, play catch with him or something.”

Ben snorted at that. Catch? Klaus was sixteen, not a toddler. 

He sobered. Then again, the activities they considered “fun” as children involved punching each other and trying to outdo everyone to be the best so they’d have a hint of their father’s pride. Maybe a game of catch would be good?

Bobby nodded and ran a hand through his hair before placing the ball cap back on his head. “Yeah. ‘Course. Every kid needs to be a kid. Even kids that have the ability to talk to the dead.”

Sam chuckled and Dean just smirked. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“There’s more, though,” Sam said. “But that can wait. I’m sure we all need sleep, especially since Dean hardly got any on the way here.”

“Hey,” Dean frowned. “You didn’t either, waking just about every five minutes from another nightmare. Which, by the way, you won’t talk to me about.”

Ben bit his lip. The brothers were starting to get riled up from the same argument they had multiple times on the drive here. Sam keeping secrets from Dean, Dean wanting to be the strong older brother and not let anything “weak” show. Klaus had helped a little by breaking through the tension, but once the teen was asleep, Sam’s and Dean’s conversation would once again become strained. Without Klaus here right now, Ben was basically useless, and his brother wouldn’t ease the situation.

Bobby sighed and knocked them both upside the head. Ben blinked in surprise while the woman giggled behind a pale hand.

“Ack! Bobby!” Dean complained.

Sam just looked so shocked that Ben couldn’t help the small scoff that escaped him.

“Stop bein’ idjits,” said Bobby. “Your rooms are where ya left ‘em. Get some shut-eye before ya do somethin’ stupider.”

Ben grinned wide. Oh, yeah, he was definitely going to like Bobby.

Thoroughly chastised, the younger hunters got up from the couch and headed for the stairs. However, before they could climb, Klaus shakily made his way down and entered the room.

“Klaus?” Sam tilted his head.

If Ben had blood, it would drain from his face. He knew that look. It was a bad look. His heart sank. “Klaus . . .”

“H-Hey,” Klaus gave the room a crooked grin. “Um . . . Do you guys have like a lock and chain or something? And maybe a lamp?”

Ben felt his eyebrows lower, suspicion creeping in.

“Uh . . . yeah, I got some stuff that might help ya,” Bobby spoke up. He narrowed his eyes. “Why wouldja need that, though?”

“‘Cause I found all the alcohol in the house and I don’t think I can stop myself from downing it all at this very moment,” Klaus blurted. He scratched his arms hard, to the point that Ben was nervous he would draw blood.

“Klaus.” Ben took a step forward, arms outstretched as though he was calming a frightened cat. “We aren’t going to lock you away in a room.”

A laugh bubbled up from Klaus’s chest, his eyes crazed. “It’s either that or I die of alcohol poisoning!”

Ben winced and Klaus’s smile fell. “Sorry. Sorry, Benny.”

“Well,” Bobby stepped forward, drawing the boys’ attention. “We can take all the alcohol in the house and lock it up somewhere you won’t find it. Is that what you’d like us to do?”

Klaus shook his head and his shoulders slumped forward. “That wouldn’t work. I’d still somehow find it, and I might get desperate enough to try and attack someone. I don’t trust myself enough right now to not do something I’ll regret.”

“So . . . What do you want us to do?” Sam asked gently, taking Klaus’s hands into his own to keep the boy from scratching. Klaus looked up, surprised at the soft gesture, and got a smile in return.

He bit his lip. “Well, whenever it got this bad, Daddy dearest would lock me away somewhere until it passed. Although, usually he did it to get me sober, but I’m sure the same thing applies here.”

Ben gagged, rushing forward to grab Klaus’s shoulders. His hands passed through. “Dad is an asshole! You cannot possibly think that his ideas were good!”

Klaus shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it? And yeah, Dad’s always been the biggest douche, but I can’t think of anything else right now.”

Sam squeezed Klaus’s fingers, which effectively brought his attention to the hunter. “That . . . We can’t just lock you away . That’s . . . no.”

Dean nodded. “We’ll think of something else.”

Klaus’s lips turned down, his head shaking before Dean finished. “No. You guys don’t understand. I won’t just stop if you tell me not to. I might summon ghosts or something. I will definitely attack you.”

“Kid’s got a point,” Bobby said. Ben whipped around, betrayal cutting at him and anger bubbling up. Sam and Dean seemed equally upset. “Listen to what I have to say,” he held up his hands.

“I don’t want to. Clearly, you’re just as insane,” Ben hissed.

But, of course, much to Ben’s frustration, Bobby didn’t hear him. No one heard him. Only Klaus. And his brother was an idiot .

“Right this second, we don’t have a plan for when something like this happens. Klaus does. It’s not the best solution, but it’s all we got. I say we allow it this once, and if it happens again we’ll be more prepared.”

And to Ben’s surprise and horror, Sam and Dean seemed to agree with that, though reluctantly. Klaus smiled.

“No! You can’t do this!” Ben rounded on Klaus. “I won’t allow it. I can’t allow it.”

The bookshelves rattled in time with Ben’s growing ire. Condensation escaped Klaus’s lips. Ben didn’t care. 

“Hey, Benny, calm down . . .”

“Calm down? Calm down ? No.” He threw an arm out and a glass cup shattered. “You’re locking yourself away? Do you know how screwed up that is?”

“Ben, seriously, you need to calm down right now,” Klaus sounded upset, eyes flicking to something behind Ben. 

But Ben was more upset. Klaus’s feelings didn’t matter right now, because he was being stupid and Ben needed to protect him, even if it was from himself. He growled and a few tentacles slipped out from under his shirt, wiggling around excitedly at their newfound freedom. “ We won’t let this happen .”

Klaus’s eyes widened. “Ben . . .?”

“Shh . . .” Arms wrapped around Ben from behind, soft pale skin brushing against leather. Surprised at the contact, Ben tensed under the embrace and the Horror responded by trying to attack whoever it was that was trying to hurt him. 

They passed harmlessly through her.

The woman that had been following Bobby around pressed her face into Ben’s dark locks, tightening her hold. “It’s okay. Everything will be okay.”

Confusion and hurt and worry warred inside Ben, but no matter how hard he tried to tug away from the woman, she somehow held on tighter. Did she have superhuman strength like Luther?

Ben wanted her to let go. He needed to get Klaus to understand. He couldn’t just let his brother be locked away forever and never let out and the monsters come and hurt him and say words that make him want to kill himself --

She kept repeating soothing sounds into his ear, but it wasn’t until she started petting his hair that he completely broke down. The gentle touch cracked something in his chest, and without realizing it, he turned fully into her embrace and returned it with his own bone crushing hug. He curled into her like a lost child, tears streaming down cold cheeks.

“There you go. It’s alright. I’m here.” She folded him into her lap as they sunk to the floor. “You and your brother are safe.”

It was strange. He didn’t feel heat from her, nor did he hear a heartbeat, and yet he felt comforted in the best way possible. It reminded him of Mom, the woman who had raised them and took care of them and yet was a robot built by their father to do those things. From this woman, it felt genuine. He didn’t know he needed it so badly until then.

The cold seeped from the room almost as fast as it came, the bookshelves settling and the tension draining away. The arm that Dean held up to stop Bobby from charging forward with an iron poker fell to his side. Klaus had tears dripping down his cheeks, and Dean feared the worst.

“Did you . . .” he waved his hands around. “Send him away?”

Klaus sniffled and shook his head. He brought the sleeves of his jacket up to wipe at his face. “No. Ben’s okay now. We’re safe.”

There was something in that last sentence that had a deeper meaning, but Dean wasn’t sure what it was.

“I’m not entirely sure what just happened, but let’s not do it again,” Bobby said. He twisted the iron poker in his hands before looking up to Klaus. “So, want the bigger guest room tonight?”

Klaus chuckled wetly and nodded. “Please. And I’ll still need that lamp.”

Bobby smiled. “You got it.”

They set Klaus up in Sammy’s guest room, the smell of musty old books overwhelming. “Ugh,” Dean scrunched up his nose. “How can you stand being here?”

Sam snorted. “It’s actually a calming scent to me, thanks.”

“Nerd.”

Klaus seemed to like it, though. “Benny loves books! This is like his wet dream.” He paused, then burst into laughter. “Don’t be shy.”

“It’s Sammy’s too, I bet,” Dean said. Klaus’s smile only widened while Sam sputtered. Dean grinned.

“I don’t need to know the details,” Bobby grumped. “Well, kid,” he said, changing the subject. “We’ll be right here if you need anything.” He lifted the chain and lock he was going to wrap around the door.

Klaus’s mood shifted. Sweat beaded along his brow. “Um . . . actually, maybe this isn’t such a good idea?” He shuffled for the door. “On second thought, I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Hold up,” Dean held out his arm and stopped Klaus from leaving. Klaus’s reaction was instant.

With a jerk, Klaus hissed and back away like Dean had burned him. “Hey, man, listen--”

Dean raised a brow, hands coming up in a placating manner. “Klaus--”

“Nope, nope, I’ll be just fine. This was a bad idea. I just need like a sip and I’ll be all good, yeah?”

“Klaus,” Sam stepped forward and placed his large hands on those ridiculously thin shoulders. Klaus tensed under the touch, face pinched and eyes glancing around rapidly. “Klaus?”

“Just a small sip? And we can forget about this whole thing.”

“Dean, leave the room,” Bobby whispered. Dean’s eyes widened and his lips twisted.

“What? No way.”

“Dean,” Bobby’s tone indicated he wasn’t messing around. “Leave. We’ll handle this.”

Dean’s muscles coiled, but he understood that he’d just get in the way right now. A shout from Klaus made him hesitate.

“No! Let me go!” Klaus wriggled in Sam’s arms.

“Bobby--”

“Go, Dean,” Bobby said before he hurried to Sam’s side. The familiar blue glow began to seep into Klaus’s veins, and Dean had to force himself to leave. He closed the door behind him, then paced.

Shouts and grunts, along with shuffling feet, had Dean pacing harder. He didn’t like being useless like this. Once he heard flesh thumping loudly against a hard force and Klaus’s pained whine, Dean had enough and left the upstairs hallway.

He walked. He walked for a long time, pent up energy keeping his movement steady. At some point, he realized he wasn’t on Bobby’s property anymore, but he kept walking.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number that he had tried time and again to reach, but never got through to.

“ This is John Winchester. If you need help, call my son, Dean . . . ”

Dean wanted to throw his phone. He wanted to cry. He was overwhelmed, Sam was keeping secrets from him, and Klaus was in pain. He just wanted his dad here to fix things.

But he didn’t throw his phone, and he didn’t cry. Instead, when the dial tone sounded, he choked around the lump in his throat and said, “Hey, Dad.

“I know you’re probably busy,” he ran a hand down his face. “And I know that you probably won’t see this. But . . . Dad, I could really use your help. Sammy’s got something weird going on with him, and he . . . he lost his girlfriend. She died the same way that Mom did. I’m worried for him.

“I know what you’ll say. ‘Keep your brother safe’. I know, and I’m trying. I really am. But it’s so hard . I’m just me. If the thing that got Mom is targeting Sammy for some reason, I don’t know if I’m strong enough to keep him safe. And you know I’d die trying to keep that kid safe.”

He took a moment to hold back tears, his bottom lip wobbling. “We have a new friend, though, that might be able to help,” he went on. “The kid’s a superpowered sixteen-year-old who can see the dead. But he’s so fragile. Stick thin and sickly looking and too soft inside. He’s got so many addictions to bad stuff that he’s having trouble keeping sane. I don’t want to involve him in this, but he’s determined to prove himself or something. He has abilities that are hurting him, and has been alone with only the ghost of his dead brother for too long. I . . . I can’t help but see little Sammy whenever I look at him.

“Dad, if you could just . . . stop in for a while, just so we know you’re still alive . We keep getting little messages from you, but . . . That’s not enough. Please, just--”

Another beep sounded and Dean knew he had been cut off. He threw his phone.

Chapter Text

Klaus was pissed. He was hurting everywhere and he was scared, but overall he was so angry that Sam and Bobby locked him away. Didn’t they see what this was doing to him? Did they want him to die?

“You asked for this, you know,” Ben said softly, perched on the bed with a book. Karen, the blonde woman that they had met, was standing to Ben’s side, humming a tune and fixing the bed up for Klaus. Klaus’s hands glowed a faint blue.

Klaus whined and curled up further into himself, stomach aching and head pounding. “Shut up.”

The wastebin that Klaus had thrown up in earlier (causing Sam and Bobby to book it and lock the door as they went while he was distracted) rested where he had left it, sitting there innocently, and Klaus wanted to kick it over and let his vomit spill all over the nice carpet. He wanted it to smell up the whole room and stain the floor, a representation of his ugly feelings. The only reason he didn’t was because Karen would be sad and she was the only one to stay with him--other than Ben, of course--and he actually really liked her.

Another wave of nausea had him lurching for the trashcan, and wet heaves filled the empty room. Karen tutted and knelt beside him, cooing softly and rubbing his back to try and soothe him. He tried his best to keep the tears at bay.

Puking was never a pleasure. He hated the smell and the acidic taste and the whole ordeal. When sober, or getting there, it was ten times worse. It felt like his insides were trying to rebel, a fire erupting from his stomach and crawling painfully up through his throat. Sometimes (a lot of the time) it would spill out of his nose and cause his eyes to water uncontrollably.

Needless to say, it was not an experience he wanted to go through ever again, but knew it would happen many more times in his life.

“What I wouldn’t do for a line right now,” Klaus spat any remaining bile into the bin, then flopped onto his side once more.

“Why are you throwing up anyway? You’ve been sober for a while now,” Ben flipped the page in his book.

Klaus shrugged. “I mean, I was forced into sobriety in a medical setting. Maybe it’s a delayed reaction?”

Ben frowned. “I don’t think so . . .”

Klaus groaned and pressed his face into the carpet. “Benny,” he whined. “I want it to stop.”

“I know,” Ben said, voice sympathetic and understanding , and it made Klaus want to cry. He didn’t.

“I want to be numb again.”

“I know.”

They let the quiet fill the room while Klaus whimpered on the floor and rolled around in misery. There wasn’t much either of them could do, so Ben provided silent support while Karen hushed Klaus with soothing sounds. He wouldn’t admit it, but it helped wonders.

After Ben’s breakdown earlier, Karen basically took the role of Resident Mom. She helped Ben in the ways that their mother no longer could, and she helped Klaus in the ways Grace never did. It was something neither knew they needed most.

He never blamed Grace for the programming that Reginald forced on her. He knew that Reginald disabled her from helping Klaus after a nightmare, or stepping in when he was taken to the mausoleum, or hugging him when the ghosts became too much. The only thing she was allowed to do was clean him up of drugs by locking him in his room and periodically bringing in soup and a plastic smile, and to heal him of any injuries he might collect.

Karen, though, was allowed to do whatever she wanted. She could comfort whoever she wished whenever she wanted, and she took to it like breathing. Or, whatever the ghost equivalent was.

“Why are you so nice, Karen?” Klaus asked.

Karen gave a warm smile. “I’m just doing the right thing.”

He loved her even more for that.

Sam sat heavily in the armchair in Bobby’s living room with a sigh. His phone dinged, and he swiftly pulled it out from his pocket, hoping it was a text from his brother, or at the very least good news.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Bobby said as he pulled a jacket over his shoulders. “If your brother turns up before then, let ‘im know that the kid is okay.”

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, phone forgotten for the moment.

“Picking up some supplies from the store,” he patted his pockets, then moved around the room in search of, presumably, his keys. “Ginger Ale, crackers, soup, maybe some over the counter medicines.”

“Why?” Sam wrinkled his brow.

Bobby paused at the door and turned about. “Because I’m pretty sure that boy upstairs is sick and he needs some help.”

“Sick? I thought he was detoxing.”

“You said he was sober for about a week?” At Sam’s nod, Bobby said, “He would be through with detoxin’. He may be cravin’ right now, but I have my suspicions that he’s got ‘flu.”

Sam swallowed. “And we just locked him away in a room.”

Bobby flapped a hand. “I’m takin’ the beer with me. I’m gonna let ‘im out when I get back. We just gotta keep an eye on him for a bit.”

“Wait, you’ll let him out? He got pretty violent . . .”

Bobby just rolled his eyes. “If he tries to go for my eyes again, I’ll put ‘im in a hold. He may think he’s stronger than he looks, but he’s still a twig. His trainin’ ain’t gonna get him far if he’s delirious anyhow.”

Sam quirked a smile and watched as Bobby walked out the door. He brought his phone up and checked his messages. It was an email.

It wasn’t Dean.

It was Becky.

Confused and a bit alarmed, Sam opened the email and read it with growing confusion. 

“Hey, Sam,” the message read. “Wanted to update you; wasn’t sure if you’d heard the news. Zach was arrested for killing his gf. Sounds crazy, I know--but he’s charged with murder. Cops say they have DNA, fingerprints, . . .”

He stopped reading. Zach? Murdering his girlfriend? That was ridiculous. They had been together for so long. Last he heard, he wanted to marry her. What brought this on?

“What are you doing?” Dean’s gruff voice said from the kitchen. Sam didn’t bother a glance, humming thoughtfully.

“Reading emails.”

“Emails?” Dean sat next to Sam, soda in hand. “From who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.”

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?”

Sam looked up from his phone, giving his brother a shrug. “Why not?”

“Well . . .” Dean popped open the cap to the bottle and took a swig. “What exactly do you tell them, you know, about where you been and what you’ve been doing?”

“I tell them I’m on a road trip with my big brother,” Sam said simply. “I tell them I needed some time off after . . . Jess.”

He waited for the wasp nest he poked at to get angry, but his brother just shrugged. “Well, so you lie to them.”

Affronted, Sam’s lips twisted into a pout. “No. I just don’t tell them everything.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah. That--That’s called lying.”

Sam’s pout deepened into more of a frown.

“Hey, man, I get it,” Dean took another sip and sighed. “Telling them the truth is far worse.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Sam asked. “Just cut everybody out of my life?” When Dean gave a shrug in response, Sam huffed. “You’re serious.”

“Look, it sucks,” Dean said with a small laugh. “But in a job like this, you can’t get close to people.”

Sam huffed again and turned in his seat so his back faced his brother. “You’re kinda antisocial, you know that?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean used the tone of voice he tried for whenever he was trying to sound cool. 

Sam finished reading the email. “. . . fingerprints, all kinds of evidence. He didn’t do it!! This all feels so unreal. Just thought you’d like to know.”

“Is she hot?” Dean asked, startling Sam. He saw his brother leaning over to get a glimpse at his phone.

“It’s Rebecca, one of those old friends,” he said, ignoring Dean’s question and subsequent yeah, I read the top . “I went to school with her and her brother Zach.”

“Charged with murder?” Dean read. Sam wished his brother would give him space. “Dude, what kind of people do you hang out with?”

Sam shook his head fiercely. “No, man. I know Zach. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zach as well as he knows you.”

That sent a nauseous feeling through Sam’s stomach.

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re going.” Sam’s tone held no arguments.

Dean chuckled. “I’m sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

“It is our problem,” Sam argued. “They’re my friends.”

“And what about Klaus, huh? Are we just gonna leave him behind while we go galivanting two states over to help somebody who we probably can’t help anyway?”

Sam leveled him with a look. They both knew this look. Sam used it often to get what he wanted. Dean caved, though he tried his best to ignore the look and remain steadfast. Sam will give him points for stubbornness.

“Klaus will be fine,” Sam reassured Dean as they started packing the Impala. “He has Bobby and Ben. This won’t even take very long.”

“You better be right,” Dean grunted, shoving his duffle into the trunk.

Chapter Text

Klaus was starting to look worse, and the longer Ben waited for signs that he would get better, the longer Klaus went without any help. Not for lack of trying, however.

Klaus was becoming delirious. Ben and Karen flickered out of corporeality a half hour ago (luckily after they got Klaus tucked into bed), and now they were left to simply watch as he groaned and buried himself deeper into the covers.

Sweat poured off of his brother, creating a sheen along his fevered skin. His cheeks were rosy, but his face had lost all color. His eyes were closed, but Ben knew he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“Beeeeen,” Klaus whined.

“I’m here, Klaus,” Ben sighed, wishing he could card his fingers through his soft curls. Curls that were sticking to his skin in clumps.

“Hurts.”

“I know,” Ben said through a lump. “I know.”

There wasn’t anything they could do. Karen gave a great sigh before she flickered out of the room. Ben stayed seated next to his brother, praying that someone would come in soon to check on his brother.

This wasn’t withdrawal. Klaus was sick, and Ben didn’t know how or why he suddenly got so sick. Klaus had always had a crappy immune system, which was only heightened when he started getting into the heavier drugs. The only thing that he could have gotten sick from is the last alley that they travelled through--

Wait. The school. Hadn’t Reginald always told them that they couldn’t go to a public school because it was teeming with germs? It was practically a petri dish for diseases.

Well, Reginald also said that they were too good for the schools, having learned from the best of the best about everything they needed to know. He doubted that knowing how to use different kitchen appliances to kill someone was something that needed to be learned, but whatever.

Could he even trust anything Reginald said? He was a terrible person and an even worse father. If he said that public school was bad, was it really? 

It seemed okay to Ben. He even enjoyed spending a morning in the classes meant for kids their age. Sure, they already knew just about everything that was covered, but it was still the most fun he’s had since he died.

Well, other than the time that Klaus bought him a little cupcake for their sixteenth birthday . . .

Klaus moaned and shivered violently, eyes opening for just a moment only to close again. His eyes were unfocused and hazy. Dilated.

Ben sighed, and waited.

Bobby returned about an hour later, bags of groceries hanging off his arms. He had cans of soup, some medication he hoped Klaus would be able to take, enough cans of ginger ale to last through an apocalypse, and just about every known trick in the book to keep a sick teenager happy. The only reason he took so long was because the lady in front of him in the check out lane had taken her sweet old time trying to choose between two brands of bubble wrap.

The beer stashes he had throughout the whole house had been shoved into the trunk of his truck and then dumped out by the side of the road. He was honestly impressed with Klaus wanting to become sober. Having come from a family that was led by an alcoholic, he understood what addictions could do to a person. Klaus having to go through that at such a young age . . . It was heartbreaking.

Bobby dropped the bags off on the kitchen table, then ran a hand down his face. He snagged a can of soup and started to prepare it, the house quiet except for the occasional creak of wood shifting or the bubbling from the radiator. He sighed, glad for the peace, but also a tad worried that the kid wasn’t making any sounds from the room upstairs. “Jeez. I’ve grown soft in my old age.”

A cold shiver ran down his spine, and he grumbled. He needed to check his radiator again. The dumb thing tended to break down more often than not, and with the end of the year coming up soon, he’d have only so much time before all the stores would be overflowed with last minute Christmas shoppers.

Not that he really wanted to get rid of the thing. It still worked . . . sometimes.

Once the soup was ready, he ladled some of it into a bowl and plopped a spoon into it. He grabbed the medicine and trudged up the stairs.

As soon as he opened the door to Klaus’s room, he was overwhelmed with the smell of vomit. He gagged, but he’d smelled worse, usually in the form of a corpse or black dog. Still didn’t like it, but he wasn’t about to run from the room.

Placing the bowl down on the bedside table, Bobby knelt next to the teenager. He looked . . . well, dreadful, really. Pale as a sheet, cheeks flushed with fever, and sweat coating every inch of skin. When he put a hand to the boy’s forehead, he cursed.

“You’re through the roof, kiddo,” Bobby grumbled. He popped open the medicine and took out two pills. Hopefully it would get the fever down. If not, Bobby could always just use a cold towel.

“Come on, kid,” Bobby grunted, shaking Klaus gently. “You gotta take these pills and try to get some soup in ya. Then you can sleep.”

Klaus whined and blinked blearily up at Bobby, but didn’t really see him. The sight of the pills, however, had the boy grabbing and dry swallowing them in a rough motion. The kid sighed in relief, probably thinking that he was going to become high.

“Damn.” Bobby tapped Klaus’s cheek. “Hey, no sleeping yet, kiddo. You gotta get some fluids in ya first.”

“‘M not a kid,” Klaus slurred, head rolling to the side to look at Bobby. He grinned sloppily. “You got a funny beard. I want one too.” He giggled.

Bobby frowned. “My beard’s fantastic.”

“Fuuuuuuuunny!” He cackled and then coughed harshly. His pale skin turned green and Bobby barely got the trash can under Klaus before he threw up. Bobby grimaced when he noticed the two pills come up with the bile. He awkwardly patted Klaus’s back, trying for comfort but probably failing. Dammit, he wasn’t meant for this kind of stuff.

Klaus leaned back into the bed, exhaustion pulling at his eyelids. Bobby snapped his fingers below the boy’s nose, startling him. He smiled.

“Hi. I need you to take these,” he held up two more pills, “and drink some of this,” he pointed to the soup.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Too bad.”

Klaus frowned at him, then at the air behind Bobby. “No fair. Why are you and Ben teaming up against me?”

Ben. That was the name of Klaus’s dead brother, the one that was everything to Klaus. Sam had explained that where Klaus went, Ben went too, otherwise there would be hell to pay.

Sounded pretty familiar to him, really.

“Nooooo, not you too!” Klaus sniffled. He glanced to the foot of the bed with a pout. “I just wanna sleep.”

Bobby gave the pills to Klaus, who eagerly took them again, then held up the bowl of soup. “I promise that once you take a few sips of this, you can go back to sleep.”

Klaus’s eyes flicked between the bowl and Bobby. “. . . Really?”

Damn this kid and his adorable face. “I swear it.”

Klaus seemed to ponder over it for a moment, before he gave a small nod and reached for the soup. Bobby held it out of his reach, though, Klaus’s shaky hands halting in mid air.

“Ah, ah,” Bobby held up a hand. “I’ll help you. Don’t want ya spillin’ it all over your front.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Klaus grumbled. “ Fine . At least someone is treating me like the princess I am.”

Bobby snorted. “What?”

Klaus folded his arms. “You heard me. I’m totally the princess here, although maybe the resident mom can compete. No, wait! She’s the queen!”

Bobby’s brow furrowed. He chalked it up to delirium. “Eat your soup.”

Klaus willingly ate the spoonfuls of soup that Bobby fed him, only commenting every now and again. Bobby found that the kid couldn’t stay quiet to save his life.

He was able to get just about through the whole bowl before Klaus whined that he didn’t feel good. Bobby had the bin ready just in case, but Klaus just flopped back into bed and swallowed through the nausea. Poor kid refused to puke again, complaining that it made him hurt and that the taste was awful.

“But if you throw up, your body will get rid of a lot of the bad stuff and you’ll feel a whole lot better,” Bobby pointed out.

Klaus just whimpered and buried his face into his pillow. “Don’t wanna.”

Bobby sighed and nodded. “Alright. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

The boy just snuggled in deeper and closed his eyes. Bobby stood up with the now cold soup and the trash can and left the room. He placed the bowl outside the room and went to the bathroom to clean out the bin.

Ben laid down beside his brother and hummed a tune that he hadn’t heard in years and was pretty sure he got wrong in several places, but it seemed to keep Klaus calm, so he kept humming. Karen had left the room with Bobby, the latter taking the bin with him. Ben assumed he was going to clean the poor waste bucket. It sure needed it.

Klaus looked much better after Bobby had come in. He had even talked about stuff that wasn’t nonsense . . . for the most part. He did say something about a rabbit and a man in red playing checkers at one point.

Ben hadn’t heard from nor seen Sam or Dean since Klaus was locked in here, but he was grateful that Bobby had come in to check on Klaus. He was relieved that the locks were taken away, too. Bobby was quickly gaining more points in Ben’s book.

Bobby had given Klaus something, which sent red flags up, but as soon as Ben read the label on the medication he relaxed. Bobby was a saint and was only trying to help Klaus feel better. He had given Klaus soup to keep him from dying, gave him medicine to keep the fever down, and was taking care of Klaus the way that only Mom had done for them back home. Ben could cry because someone was doing it.

Now, Klaus was asleep buried under layers of blankets, and Ben was content with the knowledge that he was safe here. Ben could let down his guard and just . . . relax for once. 

He should probably feel guilty that he wanted to relax. He should probably also feel guilty that he was glad Klaus was sick right now so that the hunters could get rid of anything addicting in the house.

He did feel guilty that he couldn’t do more for his brother. He felt guilty that he was dead.

As though he had a choice in the matter, really.

Still . . .

Bobby reentered the room with a fresh bin and a glass of water. He set the water next to the packet of medicine and sat down on the bed, right beside Klaus. Ben couldn’t quite place the expression on the man’s face, but he knew it was soft. His heart glowed with warmth when Bobby ran his fingers through Klaus’s curls.

. . . It also shriveled with jealousy.

It was Ben’s job to look out for Klaus and take care of him. It was his job to comfort his brother when he was hurting. Watching someone else do it brought out uncomfortable and ugly feelings in Ben. Though he was grateful for all that Bobby had done so far, he was encroaching on what Ben should be doing but couldn’t.

Why did he have to die? It wasn’t fair. He was still young, too young, and hadn’t done all the things he wanted to. He hadn’t bought an apartment to share with Klaus, didn’t have time to read all the books he had on his list, didn’t even get the chance to think about what he wanted to do after the Academy.

It made him want to break something. It made him want to lash out and hurt someone. It made him want to tear apart the world and scream at the sky.

It made him want to cry until there was nothing left.

“Shh . . .” Karen’s soothing fingers carded through Ben’s hair, her smile soft and understanding. “I know, baby, I know.”

Ben curled around his brother while he let Karen continue to calm him down. He couldn’t touch Klaus, could no longer feel his brother’s warmth. He may still be here, but he was just a shadow, an imitation of what he once was.

“You know,” Bobby whispered, still messing with Klaus’s curls. “If Karen were here, my wife, she would absolutely adore you. You and your brother. Same for the other two knuckleheads.”

He stared off at nothing, mind far off and imagining the sweet smile he missed so much. “She wanted kids, ya know. I . . . was too afraid that I’d end up like my daddy to give her the thing she wanted most. We got into an argument about it.” He huffed, the memory of that night twisting his heart painfully. “We didn’t make up before she died.

“She was the light of my life. If I could go back, I’d make her dream a reality in a heartbeat,” Bobby looked back down to the sick teen. “Maybe . . . I’m doin’ all of this so I can ask for forgiveness from her. Show her that maybe with time, we coulda had somethin’ even better than what we had, ya know?”

Klaus snuffled in his sleep and bumped his head against Bobby’s hand, making the older hunter chuckle fondly. He scratched at Klaus’s scalp, the younger sighing in pleasure.

“You’re a cute kid,” Bobby said. He stood up, knees cracking annoyingly, and he stretched until he heard a satisfying pop in his back. “Welp. I’ll be back in a while to check on ya. Gonna go look up that stuff on umbrellas or whatever that Dean wanted.”

He left the room quietly, keeping the door open just a crack in case Klaus made any sounds of distress in his sleep.

Karen started wailing downstairs soon after she and Bobby left.

Chapter Text

He was floating, high above the clouds. He must have taken something again, and it must have been good . Ben would probably give him a lecture once he came back down.

Something niggled at the back of his mind at that thought, but he just shoved it away so he could enjoy the feeling.

Although, the high felt kind of wrong. Maybe there was something laced in it? Maybe that’s what was niggling at him. Oh well. He was far, far away, where no ghosties could get to him--

A woman began to wail.

He scrunched his nose. That wasn’t right. No ghosts should be able to affect him when he was like this. They got all muted and mellow. All except for Ben.

If anything, the woman got louder.

Where was Ben, anyway? He usually stuck around even when Klaus was high . . .

Wait, where was he ? Everything was kind of dark. And outrageously hot. Which didn’t make much sense, since usually it was cold when it was this dark, right?

“Ben . . .” he whimpered.

The wailing was growing towards screaming levels, and he just wanted her to stop . 

“I’m here, Klaus,” Ben said softly, worriedly. “Open your eyes.”

Open his eyes? Weren’t they already open? Wait, no . . . He squeezed them once, the vague light he could see through his lids disappearing. Ah. Yes, they were closed.

He squinted them open the tiniest bit, immediately focusing on his brother. “Hey.”

Ben smiled, relieved. “Hey yourself.”

Klaus smacked his lips. “What did I take ? And why isn’t it working?” He shoved at the blankets that held him down, a whimper in his throat. “And why am I so hot ?”

Ben blinked, then chuckled. “I guess your fever broke. Good.” His brother shifted closer and sat up. “You didn’t take anything, Klaus. Well, other than flu medication.”

Klaus frowned. “Then why do I feel so . . . loopy?”

With a snort, Ben said, “Probably because the fever was really intense. And you’re still sick.”

Almost as if to prove his brother’s point, Klaus let out a harsh, hacking cough that left him breathless. Nausea swept through him soon after, and he swallowed several times to keep bile down.

The wailing wasn’t stopping.

“Ugh,” Klaus moaned, flopping over on the mattress. “Who’s screaming?”

Ben pursed his lips and Klaus raised a brow. “It’s Karen,” he whispered.

Worriedly, Klaus shifted until he could prop himself up on his elbows. “What? But . . . Why?”

His brother shrugged, looking just as upset as Klaus felt. “She’s been wailing ever since Bobby left the room. I think it’s a reaction to what he said earlier.”

With a tilt of his head, he asked, “What did he say?”

“He mentioned Karen, and how she wanted children. Said he felt regretful or something because he never gave her any children before she died.”

Klaus hummed, then blinked. “Wait, what’s the connection between Bobby and Karen?”

“They were married.” Ben tucked his legs in closer to his chest. “She died before he could apologize to her over a fight they had. He blames himself for her death, I think.”

His heart sank to his toes, understanding filling his core. He wondered why the hunter would feel that way. In Klaus’s case, well . . . it was really his fault Ben died. But from what he had seen, Bobby had been nothing but caring, if not gruff in execution. He couldn’t imagine the surly hunter having been the reason his wife died.

Karen had a knife wound embedded in her chest. Several wounds, actually, from what Klaus could tell. She also died young, late twenties at the latest. Poor Bobby must have been absolutely heartbroken.

Klaus shivered. Did she die because of a monster? A robbery? Some incident in the kitchen? Klaus wanted to ask her what happened, eventually.

For now, Klaus needed to find out how to calm her down. Her screams were becoming more and more angry the longer he waited, and he refused to have her crumble into one of the insane monsters that haunted him. She was . . . well, she was too sweet for a fate like that.

“Help me outta bed, Benny,” Klaus waved a hand out towards his brother, softly glowing.

Ben frowned and shook his head. “That’s not a good idea, Klaus.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re sick, and I doubt you’ll be able to make it downstairs on your own. Plus, you’ve been throwing up non stop since you got up here.” Ben picked at his shoelaces. “I think you should stay and rest.”

Klaus pouted. “Yeah, but when have I ever listened to your advice.” He swung his legs off the bed and onto the plush carpet. Ben scrunched his nose, annoyed, but not stopping him.

He stood on shaky legs, proud of his achievement, only to immediately fall to his knees. He shoved the feeling of nausea down, refusing to throw up even as his body gagged reflexively to his cramping stomach.

Ben sighed and knelt at his side. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Shut. Up. Ben.” Klaus burped and slumped against the bed. Ben held up his hands, but the smug look in his eye didn’t fade. It irked Klaus to no end.

Taking several moments just to breathe, Klaus eyed his brother. “Fine. What would you suggest I do?”

Ben shrugged. “I could just go down there for you, find out what’s wrong. Intel gathering.”

Klaus hummed, nose pinched. “Alright,” he nodded, then regretted the movement. He waited for the room to stop spinning before continuing. “Makes sense.”

Ben grinned and pretended to pat Klaus’s shoulder. He stood from the floor and hurried out the door, leaving Klaus behind.

Klaus hated being sick.

Being dead had its advantages, Ben would admit. He could walk through walls. He could listen in to conversations he normally wouldn’t be privy to. He could find out information that would normally be hard to collect otherwise. He could deactivate alarms and stuff, like at the store in Ohio.

Creeping down the stairs and ignoring the urge to cover his ears the closer he got to Karen (it wouldn’t help any), he metaphorically swallowed down the fear that her screams produced.

Being dead was awful. Ghosts couldn’t be heard. They couldn’t touch unless they were driven to anger and madness. They couldn’t be seen. They were left to rot away into nothing but shrieking shadows.

He peeked around the sliding door to Bobby’s living room, getting a full view of what was going on. Karen was tearing at her blonde ringlets, jaw near to the point of being unhinged as an unearthly scream bubbled up from deep inside and into the empty air. Blood gushed from her wounds, splattering against the floor only to disappear in mere seconds. Her eyes, wide and crazed, rolled around in her sockets like they were loose marbles. Her skirt looked like it had been torn, slashed even, instead of the pristine folds it had been before. Her skin looked greyer, paper thin and ice cold.

Oblivious to it all, Bobby muttered something and flipped another page in his book.

Ben shivered. He wasn’t sure how she went from pretty and composed to insane in a matter of moments. Perhaps there was a trigger that Bobby had said that set her off? If that were the case, should he and Klaus just allow it to pass? Or should they try to talk to her, try to get her out of whatever hell she was trapped in?

The Horror wriggled around in his stomach, curious about what was making him afraid. He patted absently at his middle, a habit he had when he was still alive, and told them to hush in a quiet voice.

Karen’s head snapped to him and he froze. Her wailing stopped, face completely blank. If he still had a heart, it would be pounding in his ears at her searing, unblinking gaze, probably in an attempt to leap out of his throat.

A chill passed between them, neither making a move.

Had she heard him?

Did she even recognize him?

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Ben? What are you doing down here, silly? You should be upstairs with Klaus.” She smiled, and her visage flickered. One moment, she was pallid and torn, the next she had bits of color to her cheeks and her skirt whole again. The only thing that remained was the gaping wounds in her chest, no longer dripping blood.

To the best of his ability, Ben tried to give her a warm smile. It didn’t work, as her pallor shifted just the slightest. He gulped.

“We were worried about you,” he answered truthfully. “You hadn’t been up for a while.”

“Oh,” Karen blinked in surprise, then her cheeks glowed with a bright grin. “No need to worry, dear. I was just talking with Bobby.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between Bobby and Karen, goosebumps trailing up his spine. Talking. She . . . thought she was talking to him.

A lump formed in Ben’s throat, eyes burning. Fear and worry and overwhelming sadness crashed into him, and he couldn’t do more than nod. “R-Right,” he said around the obstruction. “Could you come up with me? I’m sure that Klaus would love the extra company.”

Karen hesitated, biting her lip. “Well . . . I do want to make sure he’s alright. Bobby did a good job earlier, but he’s such a busy man that he sometimes forgets the little things easily.”

He smiled. “Klaus is pretty forgetful, too, and he likes to tune me out sometimes. He probably won’t take care of himself unless someone reminds him.”

With a hum, Karen glanced back at Bobby, then walked towards Ben. “Then we need to make sure he’s okay.”

Ben led her back towards the stairwell as she twittered about how her husband had once forgotten about her mother’s birthday and how he had to scramble for a gift last minute. Ben tuned her out, questions about what happened to ghosts after long periods of time--and how deep their psyche went--circling around in his mind.

Mostly, though, a seed of fear rooted itself deep into his heart, right next to his fear of the Horror.

Would he eventually become like that? Not even realizing that he wasn’t speaking, but instead screeching and wailing, trying to be heard through the veil?

Klaus’s head perked up when Ben reentered, Karen in tow. She seemed much calmer now, and Klaus beamed at the sight from where he had dragged himself back onto the bed. “Hey! Glad you’re back.”

Karen bent down next to him with grace that he wished he possessed, and smiled gently. “You’re looking much better now. Did the medicine help?”

Klaus nodded. “Loads. Still really nauseous, though.”

Karen cooed and went to brush his curls back. When she wasn’t able to touch, her form flickered for the briefest moment. Klaus’s eyes darted to Ben, who had inhaled sharply and bit his lip. Ben shot Klaus a worried look, mouthing ‘ tell you more later ’ to him. Klaus’s smile didn’t falter, having built a careful mask years ago that he could summon up on will, but his heart did a flip-flop at that. Just what happened downstairs?

“Oh my. Well, it’s to be expected, with something like the flu.” She hummed and stood from her hunch to go to the side table. “Bobby left you plenty of water. Could you try drinking some? We don’t want you to become dehydrated.”

With a nod, Klaus reached a shaking hand up to the glass, then took small sips from it. He only had a few before his skin turned ashen and he placed the glass back down. “Mm, yeah, gonna hold off on that.”

“Thank you for trying, Klaus,” Karen said. “Even small sips is enough for now.”

Klaus shyly nodded, heart warming. No one had told him trying was enough. If he didn’t do things to perfection, he was a lost cause.

Well, he was a lost cause, but that’s besides the point.

“Hey, Karen?” Klaus asked hesitantly.

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you mind . . . telling me a story?” His cheeks warmed. He hoped that didn’t sound as childish as it felt. “I mean, it’s really boring at the moment, and I kind of can’t go further than the bed, so I can’t get a book. That and reading sucks unless someone is reading for you.”

He heard Ben scoff. He mentally flipped him off.

“Of course,” said Karen, her voice similar to melted butter. “What would you like?”

“Well, what about stories from when you were growing up?” Klaus smiled. Usually, those stories were always good. Way better than his childhood, he’s sure. Nine times out of ten, he would get a story that sounds like it came out of fantasy despite being mundane playground tales.

“Hmm, well . . . I suppose I can start with the day my parents took me to the zoo . . .”

Chapter Text

Nothing. Nothing about mysterious births happening within history, nothing about a Reginald Hargreeves, not even a mention of superpowered siblings. Not relating to the Hargreeves children, at any rate.

He poured over everything he had, down to the stuff he didn’t think mattered in the context. So far, the only information he had gathered was from John’s book and any other hunters he had reached out to.

What he had didn’t really make a pretty picture.

A lot of child deaths, a lot of mistreating and torture, and then stuff about the Umbrella Academy.

The Academy itself was almost something of a legend in Canada. A home for gifted individuals, run by a man named Sir Reginald Hargreeves, who had bought up an entire block just to build a mansion to house these kids. Each child had abilities and superhero names.

There was Spaceboy, the eldest (he assumed) and the leader of the group. He was said to have super strength and could crush a man’s skull in his bare hands. In interviews, he was usually the one that took questions that were difficult to answer or the others weren’t allowed to answer. He was confident in his abilities and stood at attention behind his father like a soldier.

Next was the Kraken. Latino in features and sharp tongued like the knives he carried, the boy was like their sharpshooter or something. His ability to never miss a target with one hundred percent accuracy, even from another room, was frightening to imagine. He was usually not allowed to answer questions in interviews, but when he did, he usually kept the answers clipped and straightforward.

Then there was the Rumor. Bobby was quite alarmed by her ability, to be frank. With just a few words, she could control a person's actions or thoughts. Mind control was something he hated to begin with, after what happened to Karen . . . He didn’t stay long on anything relating to the girl.

The Séance, he assumed, was Klaus. Being able to see the dead and comfort the hostages, his job was mostly kept out of the action. He always looked so confident and proud in front of the cameras, Bobby had to wonder what happened to him to look so haunted. Although, being chased by ghosts for all of your life could do that to a person, he supposed. Poor kid.

The Boy, not given any other title, was said to have gone missing and presumed dead at the tender age of thirteen. It was terrible. Heartbreaking. They had a memorial service that the public was allowed in on, which sickened Bobby, but he was beginning to see that Hargreeves just didn’t care. The Boy had spatial teleporting abilities, but he was mostly an unknown.

And last, but not least, was the Horror. Just the name alone was enough to have Bobby reeling. Apparently, no one really knew what he was capable of, since he usually did his job when the hostages were safely in the care of the police. There were theories and vague ideas, but no concrete proof. There was only one picture that he found online that showed him after a fight, and Bobby had to take a moment just to breathe. He was covered in blood, head to toe, and wouldn’t look at anyone as if ashamed. Bobby wanted to take that boy and clean him, then hug the life out of him.

The Academy had been thriving for years, but every time a hunter went to investigate or go after the children, the hunter would mysteriously disappear. Considering Klaus never mentioned anything about hunters, he assumed that the kids never even saw any. He shivered, thinking about how Klaus had been alone on the streets where anything could get him, not just the drugs.

It had been a few months since any new information was put out about the Academy, the teens not having gone out much. Rumors spread that something bad had happened, and Bobby could assume some things. It most likely had to do with Klaus.

Speaking of . . .

“Balls,” he stood up abruptly from his desk and shuffled some papers around to hide what he was doing. He forgot to check in on the kid.

Lucky for him, when he found himself just outside the room, he heard Klaus not in whimpering pain, but . . . laughing?

He gave a hesitant knock on the door before he entered. “Klaus?”

The laughter died away when Bobby entered, Klaus’s face red with mirth and eyes sparkling. Bobby tried his best to keep his smile hidden. 

“Bobby! Hey, we were just talking about you.” Klaus patted the bed space next to him. “Join us?”

“We?” Bobby frowned. “Ben in here?”

Klaus grinned. “Yep! And another who I think you’re gonna like.”

Bobby frowned, but sat down in the spot as asked. “Uh, how ya feelin’?”

“Good!” Klaus nodded. “Still nauseous, probably gonna get that fever back, but I’m ready to start trashing the runway.” He struck a pose.

Bobby snorted. “Sure. So, what have you and Ben been up to while I was gone?”

Drawing the blankets up to his middle and wrapping his arms around his knees, Klaus hummed. “What indeed,” he waggled his brows. Bobby raised an eyebrow. Klaus pouted but answered, “We were trading stories. Silly stories, mostly, like the time that Luther got stuck in a tree.”

“Luther? Is that the other ghost’s name?” Bobby glanced around the room, nervous that he would see any around the room.

Klaus shook his head. “Nope. This one definitely has more fashion than Luther.” He gestured to a spot next to him. Nothing was there. “Luther is our brother. He has monkey brains.”

“What?”

Klaus laughed, loud and boisterous. “Your--Your face! Oh my--” he cackled, to the point that he started coughing violently. Bobby scrambled for both the glass of water and the trash can, but Klaus just waved him off.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he let out one more hack, then leaned back against the headboard. Bobby hesitantly put the items back, but kept an eye on Klaus.

“So, brother. Cool,” Bobby nodded. “Which one is he? You had like four of ‘em, right?”

“Luther is the leader. Big and brawny Number One .” Klaus stuck out his tongue. “He tends to remind us every five minutes of how important he is, being dad’s favorite and all--” He cut himself off, head cocked slightly. “Yeah, like Ben said. Kind of an ass.”

“Ah,” Bobby nodded, “So, Spaceboy?”

Klaus’s head whipped up, eyes narrowed. “How’d you know about that?”

Bobby shrugged, trying to come off as casual. “Been doin’ some research on you and your siblings. Nothin’ too deep. Just wanted to know some more about ya.”

Klaus’s nose scrunched up. “If you wanted to get to know me, you just had to ask. No need to stalk me.”

With a small quirk of the lips, Bobby shook his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that. Dean asked me to, in case we needed to know if someone was after ya.” 

“He thinks someone is after me? . . . Who?”

“Hunters,” he answered truthfully, knowing the kid wouldn’t want to be kept in the dark. “You and your siblings were kept safe while in your old man’s care, but now that you're out here, that may change.”

“Wait, wait,” Klaus waved his hands around. “I knew they went after us a long time ago, back when we were born. Sam and Dean mentioned it in the car. But they think that there are still hunters after us?”

Bobby winced. “Actually, I talked with a few hunters that tend to keep in contact with me. There are still hunters after ya.”

All the energy seemed to leave Klaus at once, and he fell back against the headboard. Worry filled Bobby’s chest, and a need to comfort the kid sprung to the forefront of his mind. Though, when he reached a hand forward, Klaus shook his head.

“Sorry, I’m okay,” he said. Bobby didn’t believe it, but he let the kid go on this one. “I just . . . Really? All these years, the old man kept us from being murdered, but only because he wanted us for his goals.”

Klaus shivered, head titled just so, and any color he had was gone in a flash.

“Klaus?”

“Vanya,” Klaus gripped his blanket in a tight fist. “ Vanya . Wh-Why was she protected by dad? She doesn’t have any powers! And--”

Klaus suddenly lurched for the bin at the side of the bed and retched. Bobby patted his back awkwardly until Klaus had emptied his stomach. He didn’t bother pushing himself back up into a sitting position, exhausted. Fear traced his features. “Vanya is going out into the world more. What if a hunter finds her? She can’t protect herself!”

He worked himself up into a tizzy, trembling and blinking rapidly. “Hey, hey,” Bobby placed a warm hand on his shoulder, grounding him to the moment. It worked, Klaus’s eyes finding his own.

“Vanya will be fine,” Bobby insisted with a squeeze. “Your daddy won’t let anything happen to her.”

Klaus was shaking his head before he even finished speaking. “You don’t understand. Dad hates Vanya. She was always the useless one, more so than me, because she didn’t have any powers. If she gets into trouble, she’ll be defenseless and could die and none of us would know until it showed up on a news report or something-- sixteen year old daughter of billionaire Reginald Hargreeves dies in freak accident all alone on her way back from violin practice .” Klaus gripped his hair. “I didn’t even talk to her over the phone the other day!”

Bobby gave his shoulder another squeeze. “She won’t be hurt, Klaus.”

“How do you know?” Klaus asked, voice small.

Bobby said, “Because the hunters don’t know that she’s related to you all. They only know that six of you were under the care of Hargreeves for sure. The seventh was just elusive to them. In fact, some think that the last one has some sort of invisibility powers.”

The sudden bark of laughter, nearing hysterical, startled Bobby. “Invisibility! If she were to have one, invisibility would make the most sense. She’s so mousy and small and . . .”

The trembling stopped, but Klaus still looked really spooked. Bobby sighed and got up from the bed. “How about I leave ya be so you can call her? I’m sure she’ll be really happy to hear from ya.”

Klaus nodded, scrambling for his phone. Bobby left him to it, closing the door on his way out to give the boy some more privacy.

Bobby sighed and scratched his beard in thought. Hearing about Vanya was . . . strange. Something didn’t add up. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Reginald kept the girl out of love, but the man didn’t seem very loving based off of Klaus’s comments. So then, why did he protect her? If she wasn’t useful for the man, why keep her under his roof?

He was thrown from his musings with a loud ringing. Trudging down the stairs, he grumbled about never getting a moment's rest. Really, he was only one man!

He picked up the phone from its cradle on the wall. It was his private number, so he didn’t bother with a façade. “Singer,” he barked.

“Bobby!” Sam’s frantic voice filtered through the speaker. “Hey, how’s Klaus?”

Bobby’s brows furrowed. “You good, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, just having a--” he grunted, “just busy at the moment. Something stuck to my shoe, you know?”

Being followed? “Um. Well, kid’s fever broke. He’s calling his sister right now.”

“Good, that’s good,” Sam’s voice disappeared for a moment, the clanking of metal and police sirens in the distance the only sound. A heavy thud, then Sam said, “So he’s safe?”

“Yeah. ‘Course he is. Sam, everything okay? Why wouldn’t the kid be safe?”

“Well, uh, looks like Dean and I got into a bit of trouble on this hunt. So, now Dean’s a wanted man and I’m on the run to catch this thing, alone, while he hides from the cops.”

“Whoa, hold on,” Bobby held up a hand, though Sam couldn’t see. “ Wanted ? Just what happened on this hunt?”

“No time to explain. I’ll catch you up later, Bobby. Gotta go.” And with that, the phone cut off.

Bobby held the phone out, just staring at it. “. . . Idjits!”

Klaus had never been so happy to hear his little sister’s voice.

“Hello?” her voice was so quiet, timid.

“Vanya!” he chuckled nervously, tugging on his curls. “Hey, so good to hear you.”

“Klaus?” she said a little louder, confusion mixing into her tone.

“Yep, the one and only. Sorry I missed you last time. I was in a bit of a rush.”

“Last time?”

Klaus frowned, “Yeah, I called a couple of days ago. The others said you were at practice?”

“Oh,” she went quiet for a moment. “They didn’t tell me.”

Disappointment and anger swirled in Klaus’s gut. Or maybe it was nausea. “Well, now I’m calling just you. So you can have a conversation with your favorite brother all to yourself.”

A small giggle rang through. Something lifted in his chest. “You’re not my favorite, Klaus.”

“Et tu, Vanya?” Klaus dramatically placed a hand on his forehead. “I am betrayed, astounded! I thought for sure after that incident in the kitchen with the macaroni art sealed the deal.”

The giggles grew, and with it, Klaus’s smile. It was nice to hear her laughter. When was the last time she laughed? He wanted to make her laugh a lot more.

“Why did you call me, Klaus?” she asked, then backtracked. “Not that I don’t want to hear from you! I just . . . I would have thought that you would want to talk to the others instead of me.”

Klaus made eye contact with Ben, who just shrugged at him.

“I wanted to talk to you , Van,” Klaus answered honestly. 

“. . . You did?” And wow, did that hopeful tilt to her voice make something twist in Klaus.

“Yeah, of course I did,” Klaus whispered. “I love you, Vanya. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

He heard her take a sharp breath, then some shuffling from the other end before she came back with, “Repeat that.”

“What?”

“Repeat what you just said. Right now.”

His mousy little sister had never demanded anything before. It was a surprise, one he kind of liked. “Uh, I wanted to make sure you were okay?”

“No, before that,” Vanya shakily said. “The part where you said you . . . loved . . . me.”

“Oh.” He relaxed his shoulders. He didn’t even know he had tensed up. He felt his face heating up. “I love you, Van.”

“. . . Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” Hadn’t he always told his siblings he loved them? Did they never believe him? That . . . really hurt. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she sniffled. “Yeah, just had a rough week.” She took a long breath, held it, then let it out in one big whoosh. “Sorry, Klaus. I didn’t mean to get all weird on you.”

“No, no! It’s fine. I kind of liked you taking charge like that.”

She giggled, and he smiled big.

“Seriously, though, Van. Are you alright?”

“Yes, I am,” she sounded just a tad exasperated, but, knowing her, she wouldn’t tell him that she was annoyed. It’s something he loved about her. He knew it was unfair, but he was selfish like that.

“Well . . . how has practice been? I didn’t get to talk to you about it last time.”

“Oh! Well, I haven’t improved very much since . . . since you left.” Since Ben died . “But I have a spot on the junior orchestra now. Hopefully, fingers crossed, I’ll be having a concert for Christmas.”

Christmas. Having lived on the street for months, he had no idea how close or far away the holiday was. He was basing it off of store windows and how decorated they were. Well, soon after Halloween, the Christmas stuff went up, so he really had no clue just how close it was. In fact, he thought it had already happened at this point.

“Really? That’s awesome, baby sis!” he cheered. Ben quirked a brow, not really able to hear the conversation. “Uh, and when is that, exactly, in relation to today?”

“Christmas? . . . Do you not know what day it is, Klaus?”

“Nope,” Klaus popped the ‘p’. “Not a clue.”

“It’s the 23rd,” her tone shifted to something concerned. “Klaus, where are you?”

His heart sank. There was no way he’d make it in time for her concert, unless he took a plane. He had no money and no way to get there. “I’m . . . safe.”

“You hesitated,” now she was really worried. “Klaus, what’s going on?”

“I’m so sorry, Van,” he coughed, hoping he could get rid of the lump in his throat. “I won’t be able to make it to your concert.”

“Klaus!”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine. Great, in fact. Sober! But I’m not going to make it. Can . . . can you film it for me? Please?” He didn’t want to miss his little sister’s first, real concert.

“. . . Of course. I could probably ask one of the orchestra members to send me a video that one of their parents filmed.” Something rustled. “Are you in rehab?”

He laughed breathlessly. “That’s one way to put it, yeah.”

She still seemed nervous for him. It warmed his heart, but she really had no reason to be concerned. “I . . . really didn’t think you’d bother.”

“Bother with what?”

“Me.”

“Oh, Van.” He sighed. “You’re my baby sister. And if I could, I would be at your concert.” He ignored the small, we’re the same age , she gave him. “In fact,” he looked wildly around for a pen and paper, before he mouthed to Ben, help me remember , to which Ben nodded, “How about I check in with you every weekend like this? Like, every Friday or Sunday or something.”

She sounded surprised when she said, “Really? You’d want to check in every week?”

“Yeah, I think it would be a good idea.” He pushed down the niggle in his mind that said he only wanted to check in to make sure she was safe and not dead. Sue him, he wanted his little sister to be okay. “You can gossip about the latest sibling drama, or orchestra drama, or whatever drama you come across, and I can brag about how well I’m doing while sober, and we can have a thing going!”

It was silent on the other end. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, hoping that she wouldn’t just suddenly hang up on him. He sighed in relief when she said, “Okay. Sure, Klaus. I . . . I’d really like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Giddy relief flitted about his chest. “Great! Okay. So, every weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise I’ll never miss a week, okay?”

Her quiet and hopeful “thank you” sealed the deal, and Klaus beamed.

“I love you, Van.”

“I’ll talk to you next week, Klaus.”

Klaus waited until she hung up, then stared at the cell phone for a long while, not really believing that happened.

“What did you talk about?” Ben asked. “I mean, I pieced together some of it, but . . .”

“Yeah . . .” Klaus finally looked up from the phone. “Vanya has a concert on Christmas. Apparently today is the 23rd. And now Van and I have a thing set up for every weekend.”

Ben gave him a bitch face. “I got that . Why did you have an emotional rollercoaster, dumbass?”

Klaus’s face heated. “Hey, I’m not calling you any names.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve called me several names, actually, including Death Breath.”

Klaus chuckled. “Yeah, that was a pretty good one.”

“Just tell me what had you all over the place.”

“Probably the fact that our other siblings didn’t tell Vanya that I called. Or that, apparently, I don’t tell her that I love her enough.”

“You tell her and the others that you love them all the time.”

Klaus threw his hands into the air, barely missing his nose by inches. “I know! I think she thought I was joking or something, because she seemed so surprised to hear someone tell her they loved her.”

Ben frowned, then looked down in thought. “Well . . . Considering only me and Five ever really paid her any attention, perhaps she didn’t believe you before. I mean . . . actions speak louder than words, no matter how loud those words are said.”

Klaus pouted at the slight about his loud tendencies. “Well, now I’m going to tell her as many times as I can. And check in, just to . . . you know, make sure she’s safe.”

With a pitying face, Ben said, “What Bobby told you really shook you up, huh?”

“Duh. I can’t lose any more siblings, thanks.”

Ben sighed and crawled closer to Klaus so he could curl up next to him. Klaus made him corporeal, if only so he could hug him to his side.

“It’ll be okay, Klaus.”

“I hope so, Ben. I really hope so.”

Bobby waited a good hour or so before he went back upstairs to check on Klaus. He brought food with him this time, and some ginger ale. Listening closely for any signs of talking, he hesitated, but didn’t hear anything. He peeked his head into the room and was startled by what he saw.

There, curled up with each other, was Klaus and a blue-outlined person that was just slightly smaller than him. The new boy glanced up when Bobby came in, his eyes dark and all too knowing, and he leaned in to whisper something into Klaus’s ear.

Klaus turned his head to see Bobby, and he smiled brightly. “Hey! You’re back!”

Bobby shuffled into the room, eyes locked on the new boy. “Hi, Klaus. Um . . . who is this?”

“This is Ben!” Klaus squeezed the boy. “Say hi, Ben.”

Ben. The dead brother. The boys weren’t kidding when they said Klaus could make ghosts visible. It made Bobby’s hackles raise on instinct, but he tried his best to not let his nerves get the best of him. Ben was safe, according to Klaus, so no need to grab the nearest shaker of salt.

Ben gave him a shy wave, then hid himself behind Klaus. Bobby’s heart softened just the slightest bit.

“Hey, Ben,” Bobby whispered when he was close enough to the boys. “Wow. So, you didn’t show me this before.”

Klaus grinned mischievously. “Once I can build up my ability a bit more, I’ll have you meet some more people. For now, it’s only Ben. Well, unless I’m stressed or something. Then I don’t really have control.” He frowned. “I’m working on it.”

Ben smacked Klaus’s shoulder. “Give yourself credit, Klaus. You couldn’t get rid of ghosts without popping pills before, but now you can send them away if you want. You’ve been practicing really hard, and I’m really proud of you.”

Bobby agreed with his brother. “He’s right. You can’t get good right away. Give it some time. I’m sure you’ll knock everyone’s socks off soon enough.”

The teen looked much more relaxed now, and smiled genuinely at their words. “Thanks, guys.”

“Brought ya some more soup,” Bobby held up his spoils. “You should get as many fluids in ya as you can.”

Klaus nodded and held a hand out for the bowl. He was a lot less shaky this time, so Bobby handed it over.

“The ginger ale might also help calm your stomach. Take some more meds with it.”

“Yes, dad,” Klaus rolled his eyes, and Bobby tried to ignore the fluttery feeling in his heart.

“Be nice,” Ben chided. “He could easily kick you out, you know.”

“He would never!” Klaus gasped. “Someone has to give this place joy. It’s so . . . stale and old .”

“Did you just call me old, boy?” Bobby teased.

“No, no,” Klaus waved a hand around. “Of course not. But this house? Yes. We need to spruce it up a bit, give it some more color . Oo! I know! Let’s get some fairy lights and a giant red teddy bear for the front room. Maybe some new wallpaper? Let's do it in a theme of some sort!”

Bobby snorted, and Klaus tilted his head to listen to someone. It wasn’t Ben. He wondered who he was talking to.

“Fantastisch!” he clapped his hands. “Yes, a woodsy feel. Like a little cottage in the woods. It’s going to look so nice.”

“Why the giant teddy bear?” Bobby had to ask.

“Why, because you surly hunters need something to hug when emotions get too much. I understand that talking about feelings sucks, ergo, a bear to squeeze frustration away and a buddy for when sad!”

Bobby just shook his head, meeting Ben’s eyes. Ben just shrugged and smiled fondly at his brother, like what can you do?

“Oh, yes, can’t forget,” Klaus grabbed Bobby’s attention when he became serious suddenly. “Bobby, we need a tree.”

“Uh, why?”

Klaus rolled his eyes, like it was obvious. “Because it’s Christmas soon. We need to go all out! Karen demands it.”

Bobby’s blood turned to ice. “. . . What?”

“Yeah, she says that since we all forgot, like the silly boys we are, that we need to set up a big tree and actually celebrate this year.”

With a choked gasp, he stood from the bed in a rush, eyes darting around the room like he might spot the woman. “Did--Did you say Karen ?”

“Yeah, Karen, your wife . . .?” Klaus sat up, looking worried. “Bobby, are you okay?”

Karen died. She died years ago. Decades , even. He had already mourned her, had already said his goodbyes. He had . . . He was the one who . . . He couldn’t . He just couldn’t. She was still here ? How? Why? 

Heart pounding in his ears, Bobby turned on his heel and fled the room.

Chapter Text

“Oh dear,” Karen murmured, getting to her feet. “I’ll be back soon.”

Ben and Klaus watched as she hurried after Bobby. The teens worried about the gruff man’s reaction.

“Okay . . . So, looking at this in hindsight, blurting that Karen was still here was probably a mistake.” Klaus scratched his cheek.

“ Probably ?” Ben scowled. “He’s been without his wife for a long time. Suddenly finding out his dead wife has been here the whole time is going to come as a shock.”

“Well!” Klaus flung his arms around. “How am I supposed to know! I thought he’d be really happy. Me and death have a weird relationship, okay?”

Which, yeah, Ben knew that. Klaus had always been flippant when it came to dead people. To him, it didn't matter whether someone was dead or alive. Everyone was just kind of . . . there. Sometimes, his brother had a hard time differentiating between the living and the dead, so much so that he let rude or inappropriate comments fly. It got him into trouble a lot when they were younger.

Although, after Ben's funeral, Klaus was starting to see death differently, from the perspective of his siblings.

Ben remembered how Klaus reacted to Ben's death, at first. How his brother had locked himself away to drink and drug himself to death so he wouldn't see Ben's mangled corpse dragging around behind him. How Klaus was wasted at the funeral and was blabbering about how he could see Ben, he's right there! and how Ben looked totally fine. How Klaus had thought everything was a joke, until their siblings just about murdered him in their grief and rage.

How Klaus had had a long, tearful discussion with Ben, filled with apologies and promises that were too easy to break.

How Klaus had left not long after Ben's statue was put up, never to return.

So, yeah, Ben knew that Klaus was flippant, but he also knew that Klaus was better about the topic than before.

Granted, Ben should have been more thoughtful to the situation as well. He was being too careless. He was getting too used to . . . well, to being dead.

He didn’t know how he felt about that.

“Yeah, I know,” Ben sighed, eyes trailing down to the folded hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

Klaus shifted uncomfortably, scooching closer to Ben. “Sorry? What for? Are you thinking too hard with that big brain of yours again?”

Ben snorted and brought his gaze back to his brother. “Big brain?”

Klaus grinned. “Yeah. Filled with all those huge words and sass.”

“Sass? Me?” Ben pressed a hand to his chest. “Never.”

Klaus laughed, big and bright, and Ben couldn’t help but smile too. “You might have been around me for too long.”

Ben shrugged. “So? I still feel human around you. Plus, you’d be bored to tears without me.”

“Lies. I’d find a way to keep myself entertained. Your company is just a tad better than the drugs.”

That actually was a really kind thing to say. He wasn’t sure if Klaus meant it, or if he was just joking, but it made Ben feel better all the same.

They allowed the comfortable silence to rest between them, until Ben nudged Klaus’s shoulder and said, “You should go apologize to Bobby. You really freaked him out.”

“Yeah,” Klaus nodded. He grabbed the ginger ale and swallowed it quickly, which made Ben wince, then got onto shaky legs. “Here we go.”

Ben trailed after Klaus, as he normally did, and they entered the living room to see . . . nothing. Where was Bobby? Karen was nowhere in sight, either.

“Uh,” Ben said eloquently.

“Outside.”

“What?” Ben turned to his brother, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can feel Karen’s presence or whatever. She’s outside.” Klaus said. Like that wasn’t a huge deal.

“Wait, you can feel where she is? How long have you been able to do that?”

“Not long,” Klaus shrugged. “Just started one day, I guess.”

“Klaus!” Ben stood in front of his brother. “When were you going to tell me this?”

“It’s not a big deal, Ben,” Klaus rolled his eyes. “We gotta find Bobby. C’mon.”

Ben only hesitated for a moment, emotions a confusing mess right now. “We’re talking about this later,” Ben promised. His brother was right in that they needed to find Bobby, and he didn’t like that, but he was worried enough to push it to the side for now. 

Instead, Ben followed Klaus outside towards one of the heaps of car parts on Bobby’s property. All around, hollow car frames and rusted plates littered the yard. Cars were stacked on one another, the ones on the bottom of the piles decayed beyond recognition. A few car seats and benches were scattered around the piles, stuffing coming out of long tears and leather worn down from the elements. Ben wondered how long all this stuff had been here.

Klaus stopped next to Karen, the woman fiddling with her blouse as she watched Bobby anxiously. Bobby, on the other hand, was digging through scraps of metal and old parts near frantically.

“What are you going to do?” Ben asked. “He seems a little . . . wired? You might scare him if you just announce yourself.”

So, Klaus decided the best idea would be to cough. Bobby, of course, startled so badly his little pile of scraps tumbled to the ground as he whipped around.

Ben rolled his eyes. “Smooth.”

“Klaus,” Bobby said. “Hey, kid. Hey--what are you doing out of bed? It’s cold out here. You’ll catch your death.”

Klaus either didn’t notice or didn’t care, because he knelt on the frosty ground beside Bobby and asked, “What are you looking for?”

Bobby shook himself and shrugged off his jacket to place it over Klaus’s shoulders. Then he went back to digging. “Doesn’t matter.”

“He’s trying to find all of my personal items,” Karen said. “Things that would keep me here.”

“Why are you trying to get rid of Karen?” Klaus asked as he tucked his legs under himself.

Bobby flinched. “. . . Because she needs to move on. She can’t stay here.”

“Does she get a say in the matter?”

“You don’t--” Bobby growled, gripping a rusty pipe so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Look, kiddo, when a ghost stays for too long without a way to communicate with the living, they start to go crazy.”

“I know. I’ve been told.” He glanced to Karen.

“Then you know I gotta send her away before she does.”

“She’s held on to most of her sanity for this long,” Klaus said, hazel orbs drawn back to the older man. He changed tracks. “Don’t you want to speak to her? Ask about . . . I don’t know, how she’s been?”

“I can’t,” Bobby said. He sounded so broken. Fear glistened behind a steely gaze. “I can’t talk to her. I need her to go.”

Brows furrowed together, Klaus glanced back to Karen. The woman bit her lip, not meeting his gaze. 

“Karen?”

Bobby ignored him, finding a small box under all the scraps. He stood up with it, but Klaus waited for Karen to speak.

“He blames himself for my death. I don’t think he’ll want to talk to me because of the guilt.”

Ben frowned. “We knew that already. Well, we guessed. But . . . I would think that he would be happy to talk to you. Maybe want to apologize.”

“You should--” Karen nodded after Bobby, and Klaus finally stood. “Talk to him. Please. Maybe you can make him see sense.”

Ben didn’t like where this was going. Even if the man blamed himself for his wife’s death, shouldn’t he at least want to tell her goodbye? Tell her he was sorry for what happened? Something was really wrong with this situation.

Klaus and Ben rounded a pile of broken cars and found Bobby with a lighter and a can of gasoline. The small box was placed at his feet, and Bobby was unscrewing the top of the can. “Wait!” Klaus ran forward, grabbing Bobby’s hand.

Bobby shook him off violently. Klaus fell back, landing on his butt. “No! I have to do this!”

“Stop!” Klaus scrambled to his feet and stood between the box and Bobby. Bobby glared at him.

“Klaus,” Bobby’s tone darkened. “Step aside.”

“Not until you tell me why you can’t talk to her.” Klaus glared right back at the man, not backing down. Ben was surprised by Klaus’s actions. He wasn’t usually one to stand up to people like this.

Bobby grit his teeth. Ben could swear he heard them grinding together from where he was standing. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

The man gripped the gasoline can firmly, tension rippling through him. He breathed heavily through his nose, the hairs on his upper lip rustling. Klaus bunched his hands into fists, preparing for a fight if need be. Bobby just tossed the can down in aggravation. “Dammit, boy!”

“I need to know.”

“Like hell you do. You don’t know anything!”

“Then tell me!”

“I killed her!”

Silence. Overhead, snowflakes drifted lazily to the ground. Ben didn’t blink, didn’t pretend to breathe, remained absolutely still. Karen, chest mangled from knife wounds, sighed sadly.

“I killed her. Stabbed her three times in the chest.” The words seemed to be torn from him, bleeding and raw. Ben was left stunned, unable to come up with a response.

Pale, Klaus took a small step forward. “Just because you blame yourself doesn’t mean--”

“No! I killed her!” Bobby roared. Klaus tripped over the box as he tried to put distance between them. Shaking, Klaus swallowed any further words he had. “I used a kitchen knife, and I--I killed her.”

Karen stood beside her husband with a pained expression. “You didn’t know. You didn’t know you could save me.”

Another swallow, and Klaus said in a nervous voice, “She says you didn’t know you could save her. Bobby . . . what happened?”

The fight seemed to drain out of the man. He took off his ball cap and covered his face with a palm. “She was possessed by a demon. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t in the hunting business yet, you see. So I . . .”

Sorrow laid heavy on Ben’s shoulders. “So you killed her.”

“Did . . . Did the demon disappear?” Klaus asked quietly. Ben barely heard him. Bobby took a shuddered breath.

“No. She kept coming at me despite having a major artery torn. I stabbed her twice more before the demon finally left.” He turned a pleading gaze to Klaus. “Y’have ta understand. She wasn’t her anymore. Not until the demon was gone, and she was left to die on the kitchen floor.” He choked, and tears gathered in his eyes, dripping into his beard.

“It’s okay, Bobby,” Klaus said. He stumbled back to his feet, hands shakily reached forward as though Bobby were a wounded animal. “It’s okay. I get it.”

Bobby drew himself further upright. “Then you know why I gotta burn her things and send her away.”

With a swift shake of the head, Klaus gave the man a smile. “No. No, I still think you should talk to her.”

“Then you still don’t get it.”

“No, I do,” Klaus said. “I understand. But Bobby, if you don’t talk to her about it, it’s gonna eat you up inside. It’s the same with me and Ben. I let my fear over what happened to my brother get to me. I was drowning in booze and pills, but he saved me. You gotta talk to her.”

Ben bit his lip, knowing that wasn’t entirely the case. Klaus had barely been staying afloat before Sam and Dean came along. Ben wasn’t enough to help, merely a reminder of what Klaus had lost.

Bobby was shaking his head, denial and pain and sadness etched into the lines on his face. “I--I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Who do you think you’re talking to?” He smiled wide.

And then, his hands glowed a soft blue.

Bobby felt her presence before he saw her. Her hand was delicately placed on his shoulder, a soothing comfort that he hadn’t felt in so long. She shimmered into existence, looking the same as the day she died. Her ringlets were perfect, skirt flowing just so to make her legs gorgeous. The only mar was the blood soaked blouse and the colorless lips stretched into a warm smile.

“Hello, Bobby,” Karen said.

“Karen,” he breathed.

She squeezed his shoulder, and it felt so real . She was here. She was really here. His vision grew blurry, and he blinked to clear it. His cheeks were wet.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, turning to face her fully. “I’m so, so sorry baby.”

“Shh,” her hand came up to run through his hair. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I do. For so much.” He took her other hand. Cold, ashen, dead. He brought it to his lips. “I . . . I wanted kids. I really did. I was just so scared.”

Her eyes became impossibly soft. “Oh, Bobby. I knew you weren’t ready yet. But look at you now, with two men that look up to you like a father and two boys under your care. They may not be related by blood, but they’re your kids.”

He nodded along, warmth blossoming in his chest. She went on.

“I could never blame you for what happened. I wasn’t in control of my body and I didn’t want to hurt you. If you hadn’t done what you did, the demon would have killed you. I know it.”

“But--”

She shook her head, ringlets bouncing. She moved her hand from his hair to his cheek, caressing it softly. “I don’t blame you for anything , and you shouldn’t either. That’s my husband you’re talking about. Please, be nicer to him.”

Bobby slumped forward, leaning into her palm. He wasn’t sure he could completely fulfill her request, but something lifted from his chest at her words. The guilt he had been carrying for years was being healed over by her balm. “Karen . . .”

She leaned into him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyes fluttered closed, lips reciprocating, slotting into place like they had done this only yesterday. He tightened his grip on her hand, wanting to stay in this moment forever. He missed her. He missed her so much it physically hurt.

Slowly, he felt her hands fade from the physical plane, then her chest, and finally her lips. He opened his eyes to see her final smile, before she disappeared like a mirage on the wind.

She was gone. Just like that. He tried not to let his heart scatter with her.

Behind him, Klaus began to violently cough. Bobby whirled around, the boy hunched over his knees and wheezing pitifully. He hurried to his side, grabbing his elbows to keep him from collapsing.

“Klaus? Come on, kid, let’s get you back inside where it’s warm.” Bobby led him back through the scrap yard.

Chapter Text

Klaus got worse after his trip outside (“I told you, idiot!” “Oh, can it, Ben.”), and now Ben had to keep constant vigil at his brother’s bedside so Klaus wouldn’t do something incredibly stupid.

Bobby had gathered all the things that had belonged to Karen and brought them upstairs into the master bedroom, where they belonged, mumbling about how he would try, for her sake. Ben was proud of the man. The conversation that he and Karen had seemed to lift something off of Bobby’s hunched shoulders, allowing the man to begin his own healing process.

The old hunter also took Karen’s earlier advice and went out to get a Christmas tree. “Don’t forget the teddy bear!” Klaus had called after him before he left. Bobby had just laughed and shook his head as he stepped out.

Karen disappeared after the discussion. Klaus told him it was because she had moved on or something, that her presence was nowhere to be found. Ben hoped that wherever she ended up was better than existence here. She deserved it.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t sad she was gone. He mourned her fading, already missing the comfort that she had brought so willingly. It was selfish of him, but he wished she’d come back, at least for him and Klaus.

Manifesting the woman had taken a lot out of Klaus, so while Bobby had been away, he had taken a long and--luckily--nightmare-free nap. Ben had stayed put until Bobby returned to make sure his brother was alright. Today was the same, his brother needing the extra energy to heal from his illness, leaving Ben to entertain himself.

That was one thing that Ben despised about being dead. He couldn’t sleep, so the hours dragged on like everything was dipped in molasses. Usually, Ben would take out the book that had died with him and read through it, but he had already read through it enough times now to have it memorized. Staring at Klaus while he slept was creepy, despite the fact that Ben had done it many times while they were still on the streets, so Ben decided he would go exploring.

Promising Klaus’s unconscious form that he would be back soon, Ben drifted downstairs and out of the house. He briefly gave Bobby a smile and a wave. The old hunter, setting up the tree, didn’t notice him of course, but he pretended the grunt the man made was to acknowledge his leaving.

Ben stepped out into the freezing winter air, feeling none of the biting chill. Snow blew through his form, collecting on the ground at least a foot high, yet his ghostly being phased through it. He was glad for it, since it didn’t impede him at all.

“Alright, here we go,” he said.

He didn’t leave a footprint in the snow, but, like any book nerd, that’s part of what he wanted. Willing his feet not to fall through to the earth below, he walked on top of the snow. Escentially, he was merely floating above the snow (he didn’t even have to walk, but he liked to have some normalcy in his afterlife).

He grinned wide, then puffed out his chest. “Legolas, what do your elf eyes see?” He quoted in the voice he imagined Aragorn to possess. He stepped across the snow as though he were the elf, never leaving a mark.

He giggled, then said in the voice he imagined Legolas to have, “Yet do not cast all hope away. Tomorrow is unknown. Rede oft is found at the rising of the Sun.”

He whipped out the book hidden in his jacket pocket, waving it around as though it were a sword. “You would die before your sword fell.”

He ran through the junkyard, recreating some of his favorite scenes from the books that he could remember. It was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

Sam was sore and his face hurt. It wasn’t an unusual thing for him, since he practically grew up with the feeling, but this time it was due to someone who looked and sounded like Dean. The man he had always trusted to protect him. The one he had always sought for comfort. It left him feeling cold and unbalanced, despite knowing that the monster wasn’t Dean. His brain wasn’t happy about it, though, and he knew it was probably going to torment him for a while.

“Sorry, man.”

Sam glanced up from the road to his brother. “About what?”

“I really wish things could be different,” Dean said, eyes meeting Sam’s before flicking back to the road. “You know? I really wish you could just be Joe College.”

Warmth spread through Sam. There he was. His stupid, lovable idiot. No plotting psycho, no crazy one liners. Just Dean. “Nah, it’s okay.” He smiled shyly. “You know, truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in.”

“Well, that’s because you’re a freak,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean grinned wider. “Well, I’m a freak too. I’m right there with you all the way.”

Sam chuckled, feeling light at the words. “Yeah . . . I know you are.”

The two rode comfortably for a while, empty, frost tipped fields passing by. Dean stuck out his lip and clicked his tongue.

“You know, I gotta say, I’m sorry I gotta miss it.”

“Miss what?” Sam’s brows came together.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?”

Sam’s lips twitched, but he refused to laugh. He wouldn’t give his brother the satisfaction of a laugh at that. Screw him.

Dean laughed, though, that deep rumble that complimented his car. The one that he reserved for when he was messing with Sam. Sam just huffed and turned his attention back to the road.

Ben came back in from the cold a few hours later, feeling refreshed and giddy. Well, mentally, that is. He skipped up the stairs to Klaus’s room, hoping his brother was awake by now.

He phased through the door and plopped down on Klaus’s floor. “Klaus!”

Klaus groaned and rolled over, glaring at Ben. “What’s got you so chipper?”

Ben beamed. “Just played around a bit outside. Maybe, once you’re feeling better, we could build a snowman.”

His brother’s expression softened at that, curiosity and excitement taking its place. “Sure.”

Ben leaned against the bed, chin propped in his hands. “How was your nap?”

“You know, I had a really strange dream.”

“Yeah? Drags or divas?”

“Neither.”

Ben lifted a brow.

“Cowboy Jesus. Mentioned that the devil didn’t want me. Which, rude. I’m the hottest piece of ass on this side of the equator. Who wouldn’t want me?”

Ben snorted. “I don’t know, maybe he has a good argument.”

“Benjamin. My flesh and blood--”

“Not related by blood.”

“My heart and soul--”

“You have one of those?”

“Mein bruder! To betray me thus.” Klaus draped a hand over his forehead. “And to think, I was going to share my waffles with you.”

“What? No, I want waffles.”

“It’s too late!” Klaus pretended to sob. “You’ve already broken my heart.”

“Klaus,” Ben whined, flopping his arms over his brother. They passed through, making Klaus shiver at the chill.

“Ben!” Klaus shrieked and sat up abruptly while Ben snickered. He hated it when Ben stuck his limbs through him, and Ben knew it.

“That’s what you get for denying me waffles.”

“This is abuse. I’m being abused.”

“Waffles.”

Klaus huffed and swatted at Ben’s face, not making contact. “Whatever, you gremlin. I’ll get you your dumb waffles.”

“Wait,” Ben held up a hand. “First. Tell me about what you meant earlier about feeling Karen’s presence.”

“Oh yeah.” Klaus crossed his legs beneath him and tapped his chin. “How do I explain this? Um . . . well, it’s kind of like . . . every ghost has this aura, right?”

Ben nodded.

“And each one is different. Like, when I searched out Karen’s, I could feel that it was her . With you, too. I can feel that it’s distinctly you .”

“Okay . . .?”

“Yeah. So, I could sense the aura that surrounds a ghost--Karen--and followed it to its source, like a dog to food or whatever.”

“Dogs?”

Klaus groaned. “You’re not getting it.” Rude. Ben got the gist of it, but Klaus rarely made sense on a good day. “So, pretend that this aura has a trail. I can pick up on the trail and follow it until I get to the main source. I can also detect how many souls are nearby. Right now, it’s just you.”

“Ah. Okay. Well, that’s good, right? Now ghosts can’t sneak up on you.”

Klaus nodded.

“So, when did this start happening?”

“A few days ago. Probably around the time that I got sick.”

“And you didn’t mention it?”

“It didn’t seem important.”

“Of course it’s important, Klaus,” Ben said. “Anything that happens that involves your powers is important. Even if it’s the tiniest detail.”

“Well, I didn’t think so, so . . . sorry,” Klaus mumbled.

Ben shook his head. “It’s alright. Just . . . tell me next time. I want to help you through all of this.”

“I know,” Klaus smiled. “Thank you.”

Ben smiled back, then stood. “Alright, so. Waffles?”

Klaus moaned. “ Yes .” He followed his brother out of the room to beg Bobby for waffles.

Downstairs, Bobby had the tree up and a few ornaments already placed haphazardly on the branches. He didn’t even have any lights on the tree yet.

“He’s not making it look nice at all ,” Klaus huffed. He marched up to Bobby and took the purple ornament out of the man’s hand.

“Klaus?” Bobby asked, alarmed.

“You can’t just go all willy nilly on the tree! There’s a certain order to things, and you have to space things just right so it looks nice, and there are color schemes and--”

Bobby held up his hands. “Whoa, wait.” He chuckled. “Why don’t you go ahead, then? I’ll busy myself with something else in the meantime.”

Klaus nodded, confidence about his decorating skills clear on his face. Ben groaned. He hoped the tree wouldn’t look too atrocious.

Klaus glanced to him, then to Bobby. “Oh, right! Bobby, since you’ve kindly allowed me to decorate, would you mind making me and Benny waffles?”

Bobby raised a brow. “First, can Ben even eat? And second, are you sure you’re well enough for that?”

Klaus nodded. “Yes! To both.” He didn’t elaborate on the eating thing when Bobby gave a confused hum. “I feel loads better, actually. No fever, no need to hunch over the toilet, no cough! I am down to party.”

“Usually that means you wouldn’t immediately start partying,” Bobby chuckled. “Gotta let your body recover until it’s completely better. But, who am I to judge.” He headed for the kitchen.

“Peanut butter and chocolate chips for Ben’s! And loooooots of whipped cream on mine. S'il vous plaît!”

Excitedly, Ben hopped up onto the desk near the tree. “This is gonna be the best day ever.”

Klaus just gave him a big grin.

The snow got thicker the further north they travelled. It was with mild surprise that Sam realized it was Christmas Eve. They’d be back to Bobby’s in time for Christmas. Not that that meant anything, of course, since the Winchesters never celebrated the holiday, even less so Bobby. Still. Maybe they could pick something up for Klaus on their way back? Klaus probably wasn’t nearly as awkward about the holiday as the rest of them.

“Klaus and Bobby were good when you called, right?” Dean asked, as though reading his mind.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t get to hold a long conversation since I was running from the cops , but Bobby said he was fine. Doing better, in fact. His fever broke.”

“That’s good,” Dean nodded. “Hey, you think we could find that dress he was talking about earlier in the car? You know, the red one? We could get it for him as a ‘good job on getting better’ gift.”

Sam snorted. “You mean a Christmas gift?”

Dean startled, wide eyes turning on Sam. “What? No. It’s Christmas?”

“Eyes on the road,” Sam absently reminded. “And as if you haven’t been counting down the days. I know you. You get all giddy every year.”

Dean scoffed. “No I don’t.”

“Oh yeah? So I guess the lights in the back are meant for a romantic night.”

“Hey, you never know. Some people have weird turn ons.”

Sam shook his head. “Sure.” He sucked on his teeth, then said, “And yeah. I think he’d like it if we got him a dress.”

Dean’s lips pulled up on one side. “Yeah? And we should probably get something for Ben too . . . what might he like? A book?”

Sam shrugged. “Probably. We don’t know what he’s read, though.”

“Sam, he’s a ghost haunting his traumatized brother. I’m sure whatever we get him, he’ll be grateful.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wow, Dean.”

“What? I’m just telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam thought about it for a moment. “Well . . . what if we just got him a classic?”

“Nothing above like ten dollars, though,” Dean said. “We’re not the richest people in the world.”

“Duh,” Sam said. “And if we go to a thrift store, we could get a dress for Klaus and a book for Ben for like ten dollars max.”

Dean frowned. “Yeah, but it wouldn’t be the same red dress. I would feel like I was cheating him. And what if the used book is scribbled in or something?”

“Thrift stores are usually pretty good about putting out presentable things. Besides, you were the one to bring up money.”

Dean sighed. “Well, I don’t know how special Christmas had been for them, being in a mansion and all. What if their servants put together a huge thing or something?”

Sam scrunched his nose. “I don’t know. But I don’t see Reginald as the type of person to throw a Christmas party.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe he lets them loose for the holiday? He just goes to a separate part of the mansion.”

“Maybe. I guess it would make sense, since Klaus is so chipper, that their dad let them have a few liberties now and then. Unlike Dad.”

“Hey. He let us do whatever as long as we stuck together when we were little.”

“Yeah, but he never celebrated holidays with us. And then one year we just stopped altogether.”

His older brother clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”

The car became silent, tension thick between the passengers. Sam bit his lip and fiddled with his jacket sleeves. So, yeah, that was a little insensitive. Dean didn’t mean to stop any traditions, Sam just didn’t give him any more opportunities. Dean tried his best. Sam just . . . distanced himself from the family. It was easy when it came to Dad and blaming things on him, but Dean didn’t deserve that.

“Sorry,” Sam muttered.

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not,” said Sam. “That was unfair of me.”

“Well, it’s not like it isn’t true.” Dean glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t sweat it. So, thrift store? I’m sure there’s one along the way.”

“Yeah . . .” Sam wasn’t sure if he should let this one go, but he knew his brother wouldn’t want to talk anymore about it. For now.

Chapter Text

Ben sat in front of the plate of waffles, trepidation over this whole thing not working locking his limbs in place. Klaus was already chowing down like he hadn’t had anything for months. Which, considering his brother had been puking the last few days and refusing to eat much, could very well be the case.

"What's wrong?" Klaus asked, pausing briefly. Ben was surprised he hadn't choked yet.

"Nothing," Ben said. He didn't make an effort to lift his arms from their place at his sides.

Klaus rolled his eyes, because he knew Ben better than anyone else. “Right. And you’re sitting there, wasting my energy--what, staring at the plate of delicious heaven like it will materialize in your stomach?”

Slight guilt built up in Ben’s chest, but he glowered at Klaus. “No. It’s not . . . that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t want it to not work.” Ben admitted softly. “Like, what if I can only drink stuff?”

“Then we’ll have to blend up your waffles.” Klaus shrugged like it was easy.

Ben sighed. “Klaus . . .”

“I know,” and this time, Klaus sounded much more somber, understanding. It twisted something in Ben’s gut. “I know. But we won’t find out until you try.”

“I’m scared.”

Klaus reached out a hand and squeezed Ben’s, giving him a soft smile. “I’m here for you, Benny.”

Ben smirked. “You know that’s not my name.”

Klaus chuckled. “You’re right. Sorry, Benevieve.”

He raised a brow. Hadn’t heard that one yet.

“No good?”

He just smiled. He loved his brother.

Taking a deep, useless breath, Ben took his fork and cut into the waffle. Peanut butter and chocolate chips. Usually, he wouldn’t want syrup on top, but he wanted the full experience. He hesitated with the waffle halfway to his mouth, but one squeeze from Klaus and he shoved it in without a second thought.

Flavor burst across his tongue. An explosion of taste and texture and sweet, so much sweet . Too much. He didn’t want it to stop. He let it rest on his tongue until the waffle became gooey and the peanut butter had thoroughly coated his throat thickly. When he finally swallowed, he noticed tears streaming down his cheeks.

“It’s amazing . . .” he whispered.

How had he forgotten what a waffle tasted like? If it wasn’t his favorite already, it was now.

The waffle bite settled in his stomach. He could feel it in there. He could eat, though he didn’t need to. The Horror murmured happily to him. He wondered what would happen when he became incorporeal, and where the food would end up.

At the moment, he couldn’t care less.

He shoveled more down, at the insistence of Klaus and his tentacled friend. Well, not necessarily a friend, more like a parasite. Whatever.

The waffles disappeared before he could blink, and he frowned down at the empty plate.

“Want some more?” Klaus asked casually. Ben could tell this exercise was wearing him down, however. For some reason, making Ben corporeal wasn’t as much as a strain as making him corporeal and able to eat.

So, yes, Ben did want more, but he also wanted Klaus to rest. Being the patient and caring brother that Klaus insisted he was (though had trouble believing), Ben shook his head and pushed the plate away.

“It was amazing. It was way better than the coffee.”

Klaus beamed. “I knew you’d say that. Next time, I want you to try something spicy.”

Ben screwed up his face. “No thanks.”

“Oh come on, I think you’ll like it!”

“Doubt it. Didn’t like it in life, won’t like it in death.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Party pooper.”

“Who’s pooping on parties?” Bobby asked, coming in from outside. His cheeks were flushed and his coat drenched in snow. He shucked his winter boots by the door.

“Ben,” Klaus answered at the same time Ben said, “Nobody.” Ben glared at his brother.

“Ben’s refusing to eat something spicy next time we try feeding him.”

“I’m not a dog, weirdo.”

“No, you’re like a cat. Demanding attention only when you want it, lazy, and cute as a button.”

Ben hissed and Klaus just giggled.

“Well, it’s gettin’ pretty late,” Bobby patted himself off, getting snow everywhere. “The lights are up along the outside of the house, so there’s nothin’ left to do.” He glanced to the tree in the living room. “Oh . . .”

Oh indeed. Klaus had outdone himself, in his opinion. Ben thought Christmas had gotten out of a store and threw up all over the tree. Green and red lights sparkled while every ornament Bobby had was thrown onto the tree. Purples and red and blues and whites, along with a couple yellows here and there from beads. Sashes and tinsel. And on top, a cutout star that Klaus had colored himself. It was a mess.

Klaus had never been happier about it.

Granted, the presentation made sense, as strange as it was. It was organized chaos, which just about summed up all of Klaus’s life. The colors didn’t clash where they had been placed, and each ornament was placed strategically so there wasn’t a bald spot on the tree, nor an ornament of the same type too close to its sibling.

Ben still curled his nose at it.

“Isn’t it lovely? Really screams ‘Christmas spirit’, no?” Klaus batted his lashes at Bobby.

Bobby snorted. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Now off with you two. Get some sleep before Santa gets here or whatever.”

Klaus furrowed his brows at Ben, who equally looked confused. “Wait, isn’t that the fat dude that always shows up in the store windows?”

Bobby stopped in his trek to the fridge, arm outstretched. He raised a brow. “Uh, yeah? You guys know about Saint Nick, don’cha?”

“Who’s that?” Ben scrunched his nose.

Bobby gaped at them, but they just gave confused, blank stares back. “Santa Clause? Old Saint Nicholas? The Jolly Man in Red?”

“Are you making stuff up now?” Klaus tilted his head.

“Alright, we’re goin’ ta teach y’all about Christmas and pagans.”

Dean pulled into Bobby’s junkyard sometime around three in the morning. He was expecting the lights to be off in the house. He was not expecting the Christmas lights lining the windows and along the gutters of Bobby’s home.

“Uh, did Bobby get attacked by the ghost of Christmas present?” Sam asked.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, something happened while we were gone,’ Dean said. He hopped out of the Impala and marched through the snow to the front door. What greeted him inside was not what he expected.

A giant, red stuffed bear greeted him with a smile. Dean gawped at it.

“What the hell is that ?”

At first, Dean thought Sam was asking about the bear. And then he saw .

 A monstrosity of colors and glitter assaulted him. Blinking green and red lights aggravated his eyes and gave him a headache. Tinsel reflected lights and ornaments of just about any color sat comfortably around the mess, leaving nothing bare underneath.

“I think . . . it’s a Christmas tree.”

Sam blinks at him. “Where’s the tree part in it?”

Dean chuckled nervously. “Obviously somewhere under . . .” He waved a hand at it. “All that.”

The sound of a gun cocking drew their attention away from the “tree”. Bobby rounded the corner, shotgun first, and only relaxed when he noticed who they were.

“Jeez, go ahead and give the old man a heart attack, will you,” the man grumbled. He clicked the safety and rubbed his chin. “Didja just get back? Ya didn’t stop once for rest?”

“Sorry, Bobby,” Sam said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “And you can blame this one for that. He didn’t want to risk somehow getting caught if we stopped.” He jerked a thumb at Dean.

To his credit, Dean only rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause you would rather spend the night in a jail cell.”

Bobby held up a hand. “Wait, wait. You mentioned Dean was wanted earlier? Okay, just what is going on?”

Sam shrugged and headed further into the house. “I’ll let Dean explain. I need a shower and at least a couple hours of sleep.”

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, don’t take up all the hot water!” Dean called after him.

Sam flipped him off, disappearing when he went up the stairs.

Dean scoffed. “This kid. So ungrateful.”

The older hunter raised a brow at Dean, expectant. Dean was too tired to get into this right now, but Bobby was owed an explanation. With a great sigh, Dean flopped into a kitchen chair and rubbed his forehead. “Where to start. Um, well . . . I guess I’ll start when we got to Saint Louis.”

Bobby took a seat next to him, full attention on the younger. “Well, Sam got an email from an old college buddy, Becky, saying that one of his friends, whatever-his-name-was, killed his wife. I didn’t think it was important, but Sam was adamant that we go.

“So, we get to Saint Louis, and talk to Becky. And wow, was she a catch . . .” Dean stuttered to a stop when Bobby coughed and glared at him. “Right, right. So, we found out that this dude had all the evidence stacked against him. He was in jail for murder and it looked like there wasn’t anything to help him out of this. They even had fingerprints! But Becky said that he was with her that night, and that there was no way he could have gone home and murdered his wife in the time allotted.

“Sam was convinced this guy didn’t do it, and told Becky that I’m actually a cop. Well, private detective, whatever.”

“Is that how ya became wanted?”

Dean waved him off. “I’m getting there, be patient. Anyways, we went to his house. It was a bloodbath. Literally. There was not a surface that wasn't coated in blood. Pictures from the police showed that the woman had been tied to a chair and tortured before she died from her wounds. They also mentioned that the house had been robbed beforehand and that the neighbor’s dog had been vicious ever since. Key information, there, but they didn’t think to mention it until I asked.” He rolled his eyes.

“We asked for the tapes, to see if they were tampered with. The cops gave us weird looks, saying that they definitely weren’t, but you know our business.” At Bobby’s nod, Dean continued. “We insisted. Going through the tapes made it pretty obvious that something was going on outside of the norm.

“The dude’s eyes flashed in the camera. And the next morning, when we went to check out an escape route that he could have taken, we found a blood smear that led to the sewers. We then discovered another murder, same deal, and the husband was on the way home in a car while it took place. Same evidence against the man, and same blood smear leading into the sewers. We decided to investigate.”

Dean shuddered at the memory of what they found down there. “We found the hideout, along with a giant mess of blood and skin and hair and teeth . . . It was absolutely nasty.”

“Shapeshifter,” Bobby said. Dean could see an idea forming in his mind, but went on.

“Yep. Disgusting thing. Well, it attacked us, not liking that we invaded its home. Sam and I separated to track it down, and it got the jump on me. I woke up some time later, tied to a beam underground with a sheet thrown over me. Sammy was somewhere behind me, trying to get free. I won’t go into details about how we got out, just know that we did.”

“So it took on the form of either you or Sam?”

“Me.” Dean nodded. “By the time we got out of the sewers, we found that ‘I’ had attacked Becky and am now a fugitive of the law. Lucky for us, Becky was left alive. While we tried to get Baby back from Becky’s, the cops arrived and started chasing us. I think that’s when Sam called to ask about Klaus.”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, sounded pretty shaken up.”

“Well, after shaking them off, I told Sam to stay with his friend while I went after the shifter. And . . .” he winced. “I found Becky in the shifter’s hideout.”

“Oh . . .” Bobby’s lips thinned. “Sam was tricked.”

“We both were,” Dean shook his head. “But that’s not the worst of it. After freeing Becky and rushing to help Sam, I find myself beating up my little brother.” He clenched his hands into tight fists. “ Choking him. There was a knife and . . .” he took a deep breath to keep calm. The blind rage he had felt at seeing that thing hurt his brother . . . He fiddled with his ugly, precious necklace that Sam had given him ages ago. “I didn’t even think. I shot it in the chest, took back my necklace, and we hit the road soon after checking to make sure that Becky was alright. The cops believed that I had died, and that I was the one who had caused all the murders.”

“You became the scapegoat.”

“Basically,” Dean shrugged and yawned. “So now Sammy and I are thinking about just laying low for a while.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here, son,” Bobby smiled and patted Dean’s shoulder. Dean gave him a smile in thanks.

“By the way, who attacked you with Christmas?” He titled his head toward the tree in the living room.

“Oh, right,” Bobby chuckled. “Ugly thing, isn’t it? Well, I guess it ain’t too bad, considerin’ we all ain’t had a real Christmas before. Klaus did that.”

Dean cringed. “Luckily, Christmas is only one day, right?”

Bobby snorted. “Pretty sure he’ll want to keep it up at least until New Years.”

“Yikes,” he said. “Why did you set up this year, anyway? Never have before.”

“Well . . . I suppose I should tell ya my end of the story.” Bobby chuckled.

Ben grew excited when he heard Dean and Sam come back, and listened with rapt attention as Dean explained what happened while they were away. Shapeshifters . Klaus would totally love the story once he woke up.

He drifted to the stairs once Bobby started to tell their side of the last few days. He supposed he could read for a while until Klaus got up for the day. He didn’t want to spoil any surprises that Santa would bring.

Right, Santa. The concept was novel to Ben and Klaus, having never known much about the whole thing until Bobby explained it to them. Imagining a fat man with a huge white beard and a bright red coat tumbling down a chimney was absolutely ridiculous, but it gave Ben a giddy feeling nonetheless. It sounded like one of his books, where a jolly man would help children around the world feel hope.

Pictures of shiny wrapping paper and individual boxes hidden under a tree flitted about Ben’s mind. It must be so much fun to unwrap a gift that was specifically made for you and no one else. Being part of a family that shared everything, getting something that was yours was precious.

He wondered why Santa had never visited while they were at the Academy. It could be easily explained, though. Reginald Hargreeves had probably scared the poor man off before he could do so much as land on the roof.

The darker part of Ben said that it was because he and his siblings all killed people before they had acne. Santa wouldn’t deliver presents to children that hurt others.

Ben shook his head. He, the tank of the Academy, got his due by dying a horrible death. Surely, that was repentance enough. 

Klaus, though . . . 

Would being literally haunted by dead people count? Klaus was near to insanity with how the ghosts crowded him and screamed and screamed to the point Klaus wanted to deafen himself. Being tortured all your life would be enough.

Right?

Then again, did Klaus ever actually kill anyone? Now that Ben thought about it, he couldn’t remember a time that Klaus willingly hurt someone. Comfort? Always. Protection? Every mission. But hurting someone wasn’t really Klaus’s thing.

He ran into Sam as the man exited the bathroom, steam following him into the hallway. All of Ben’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he noticed the man’s face.

Well, firstly, there were bruises around his neck and slash marks from a knife against his torso. His wrists were chafed raw, as were his ankles. His eye was sporting an ugly shiner, the bruise purple and blue. The towel around his waist had lines of blood smeared around, but he didn’t seem too bothered by it. His back was a mess of purple and yellow.

“Sam?” Then he remembered what Dean said. Ben felt sick, like the waffles he had earlier would somehow come back up.

Hunting seemed cool, but there was a price to it.

“Sam . . .” Ben held out a hand, but knew he wouldn’t be able to help. He watched as the man went into his and Dean’s shared room, plucking out some bandages to wrap his wounds so they wouldn’t get infected, then carefully dressing himself for sleep. Ben was glad that he at least cleaned himself up.

He left when Sam went for his pants. Maybe hunting wasn’t such a good idea.

Morning came a lot faster than Dean was prepared for. He groaned, rolling over as light streamed through the curtains. “Sammy. Turn off the sun.”

“As if I could do that,” Sam huffed from the bed. Dean let him take the bed last night, taking the blow up mattress for himself, since Sam had gotten injured. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Then turn back time so I get another hour.”

“Definitely can’t do that.”

Dean moaned and felt a foot dig into his side. “Hey!”

“Get out of bed, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Sam scoffed and stretched, then hopped off the bed and opened the door. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted into the room. Dean’s stomach growled, and he leapt from the mattress for the hallway.

“Of course, your stomach will get you out of bed,” he heard Sam grumble behind him.

Well, if Sammy was going to be a little bitch, then Dean was going to eat all of his bacon. It’s what he gets for being late to breakfast anyway.

He found Klaus already eating, Ben materialized next to him and looking at his plate in wonder. Dean wasn’t as nervous around the ghost anymore, seeing him as more of a person that could disappear sometimes rather than a bloodthirsty monster. Dean smiled at them as he took a seat.

“Morning!” he greeted. “Ooh, Bobby, are those pancakes?”

“Sure, corn batter and protein.”

“What?”

“They’re really good,” Klaus piped up. “It’s like cornbread, but a pancake.”

Ben nodded along. He hadn’t touched his food much yet, savoring each bite. Dean wondered if this was the first time he was eating something again.

“Alright, guess I’ll try it. But if it’s another one of those efforts to eat healthy and it tastes like one of Sam’s green smoothie crap--”

“It’s not crap!” Sam said, entering the room at a shuffled pace. “You just can’t eat anything that isn’t processed and covered in grease.” He scrunched his nose.

“Grease?” Ben perked up. “Hey, Klaus, I need to try a burger sometime soon.”

“You know, you should probably make a list,” said Klaus. “I’m sure that there are tons of things you’ll want to eat again.”

Ben beamed, and Dean’s heart was gone for this kid.

“Eat up,” Bobby said, dropping pancakes on a plate in front of Dean. “Santa left some stuff under the tree.” He winked.

Dean’s brows furrowed at the wording, but Klaus and Ben started shovelling their food down faster, excitement clear. He huffed and patted Klaus’s back when he choked on eggs.

“Careful. They can wait until you’re done,” he said.

“Yeah,” Klaus nodded, but didn’t go any slower. At least he didn’t choke again.

Once done, Klaus and Ben raced for the tree. Dean and Sam turned around in their seats, but didn’t get up from the table. “Wow! There’s so many.”

There were only about five presents under the tree. Dean and Sam had contributed two of them. Dean’s heart ached.

“Wait, have you two . . .” Dean trailed off. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was asking. “Never had a lot of presents?”

Ben shook his head. “No. We haven’t had Christmas before. Sir just gave us a little extra time to rest from training on Christmas. Most of what we’ve learned about it has been from magazines and any movies we could get our hands on.”

When Dean turned to Sam, he noticed his brother’s face scrunched in sympathy. Even from their crappy childhood, at least they had Christmas .

“So, no big parties and fancy outfits?” Dean asked.

Klaus waved a hand. “No time. The craziest year was when we decorated a sheet to act as a tree. Daddy was pissed, of course.”

“Oh yeah! I remember you painting the sheet green. Pretty sure you were high, too.”

Dean grimaced. He changed the subject. “Well, are any of the gifts labelled?”

Klaus nodded, grabbing the newspaper-wrapped gifts and checking them over. “One’s for me, and the other . . .” His eyes widened, then he gently set the gift beside his brother. “For you.”

“. . . Me?” Ben took the gift, awestruck. “But, how? I’m dead.”

“Ah, well . . .” Dean scratched his neck sheepishly. “Those two aren’t from . . . Santa. Me and Sam got those.”

Ben looked up at him, eyes glassy and full of gratitude. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean ignored the lump in his throat. He coughed and nodded. “‘Course. If you’re sticking around longer than a few weeks, gotta treat you like family, right?”

Ben gasped, then held the gift closer. “Y-Yeah. Thanks.”

Klaus wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.

“There’s one more there for ya, Klaus,” Bobby said, leaning against the table and crossing his arms.

Klaus, confused, searched through the three glittery gifts until he spotted his name. “Oh, wow. This is so pretty.” He ran his hand over the paper reverently.

“Is there another for me?” Ben asked, but he sounded like he wasn’t expecting anything. Klaus searched anyway, and Dean’s heart throbbed when the medium shook his head.

Ben frowned but nodded, looking down. “It’s okay. I’m dead. He probably doesn’t know I’m still around.”

“Maybe we can write him a letter next year,” Bobby said. He sounded choked up, and Dean caught regret in his shoulders. “Let ‘im know you’re still here.”

Ben nodded, shoulders lifting. “I’m just happy I got something. I didn’t think I would.”

“The other two are addressed to Sam and Dean,” Klaus announced, taking his spot beside Ben again. He held his wrapped gifts like they were precious.

Dean raised a brow at Bobby. Bobby just shrugged a shoulder, a mischievous glint to his eye. “It was all I could afford,” he whispered.

Sam smiled, and Dean melted. 

“Go on, get,” Bobby thumped Dean’s back to get him over to the tree.

Dean stumbled over to Klaus and Ben, sitting on the floor beside them. Sam was soon to follow. Klaus handed them each their gifts, careful not to tear them.

“You guys should go first,” Klaus said. “I think me and Ben just want to keep them nice for a bit longer.”

“Says you,” Ben snorted. “I know you want to tear into it like a madman.”

“Let me be a drama queen, Ben.”

Dean opened his first while the two bickered. He ripped open the package and found a cassette tape.

“The best of Jefferson Starship,” Dean’s lips quirked in a grin.

“Oh wow . . .” Sam whispered, holding up a book. “Criminology. Heh.”

“Okay, me next, me next!” Klaus waved an arm through the air. Ben rolled his eyes while Klaus tore into his gifts.

The first was the sparkly gift. Inside was a nice, new jacket, the words ‘Bad Bitch’ outlined in pink and covered in glitter. Klaus beamed. “I love it. Santa knows me so well!”

The next was the newspaper gift. Dean felt apprehensive about this one. They didn’t find the exact one that Klaus had described, and he hoped the boy wouldn’t be upset about it.

Klaus took out a ruby-red midi dress, netted in style and sheer sleeved. There was a keyhole opening in the back and braided trim around the neck and wrists for contrasting color. Klaus held it like it was gold.

“This,” he choked. “This is for me?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “We couldn’t find the exact one you were talking about, but we found this at Goodwill.”

Klaus covered his mouth in an attempt to hide a sob. Dean panicked, but Ben held up a hand. “Thank you. Thank you, it’s beautiful.” Klaus hugged it close to his chest.

“Well, don’t just sit there. Get changed into it!” Ben urged.

Klaus nodded and ran up the stairs. “Don’t open your gift without me!”

“I would never!”

A few minutes later, Klaus flounced down the stairs and did a little twirl for his audience. Ben clapped loudly, a big smile on his face. Dean and the others clapped as well, but not nearly as loud or with as much enthusiasm. Dad’s strict ways that had been ingrained for way too long kind of made Dean hesitate to be so excited for Klaus. It was . . . weird. Feminine. Didn’t belong on a man, as his dad would say. But he shook his head, knowing that it wasn’t right to think that way about Klaus. Especially with all that Klaus had gone through.

Klaus squealed. “It’s so pretty on me, right?”

Ben nodded emphatically. Dean wondered at how easy it was for Ben to be so encouraging towards Klaus. He might ask for pointers later.

“Thank you, Sam. Dean.” Klaus came over and squeezed their hands. Dean coughed in an attempt to hide his burning cheeks, while Sam chuckled and squeezed Klaus’s hand in return.

“Anything for family,” Sam said.

Klaus became all choked up again at that, so Ben distracted him by opening his own gift. The soft exclamation that Ben made when he saw the book they got him made Dean’s insides twist. Did he not like it?

“The Fellowship of the Ring,” Ben said. He flipped through a few of the pages, eyes wide and collecting tears already. “I . . .”

Dean shifted, worried he may have made a mistake. He had chosen the classic fantasy novel over the science book Sam had suggested. He and Sam had had an argument over it, but he had won, obviously. Maybe Sam was right.

“What he means is that he absolutely loves it.” Klaus translated. “Oh Ben . . .” He leaned over and wrapped his brother in a big hug while Ben sobbed ghostly tears.

It was honestly the best Christmas Dean had since his childhood.

Chapter Text

True to their word, Sam and Dean stayed at Bobby’s a couple more weeks following Christmas. They helped Klaus brush up on his childhood training, impressed that he knew so much already even if he was rusty, and kept him away from the allure of drugs with plenty of distractions. Ben was able to train, too, though most of it was Klaus perfecting his ability to make Ben part of the living world. Progress was progress either way, and Ben had fun which made Klaus happy.

The days that Klaus didn’t want to train, the Winchesters took him seriously and allowed a day off. They would have snowball fights, and build snowmen and snow igloos (he totally built the best igloo, Dean ), and Klaus introduced a few games from the Academy days that he and his siblings made up. Being treated with respect and understanding was honestly so . . . nice. He was so grateful when they didn’t brush him off or force him to train regardless of what he wanted. And the days they just messed around was a blast.

So, Klaus was rightly antsy.

He waited for the other shoe to drop, for the nice words and kind gestures to turn ugly. He was getting more and more anxious the longer the niceties lasted, to the point he wanted to do something stupid just to get it over with. It was driving him insane.

Ben tried to keep his mind off of it, and Klaus snapped at Ben more often than not. He felt guilty for it; Ben was just trying to help. 

He didn’t stop the barbs he threw, and Ben continued to look sad.

He was the family screw up. So, he screwed up. A lot.

When Dean announced that there was another hunt nearby, Klaus could have cried in relief. Finally, something that he could do to prove himself to the Winchesters and keep the nice stuff up.

Ben was sitting on top of the table, Klaus making him visible to the others, while Klaus was seated in a chair like a normal person (Ben, you heathen ). Sam was eating a salad next to Klaus, reading over emails on his phone. Ben perked up when Dean came in saying that he found them all a hunt.

“News item out of Plains Courier , Ankeny, Iowa.” He flipped Sam’s laptop around to show them the page. A man’s face stared back at them, probably not much older than Sam.

“‘Mutilated body was found near the victim’s car parked on a 9 mile road’,” Sam read, then glanced at Dean.

“Keep reading,” Dean urged.

“‘Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, who’s name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible’.”

“Could be something interesting,” Dean said. Klaus agreed.

“It could be nothing,” Sam corrected. “One freaked out witness who didn’t see anything doesn’t mean it’s the invisible man.”

“Let’s just check it out,” Klaus said. “Just in case. You never know, Sam.”

“Dad would check it out,” Dean threw in. Klaus bit his lip in excitement, knowing that that would get Sam to go.

“And if Sam is right?” Ben asked, ever the Debbie Downer. Klaus rolled his eyes.

Dean shrugged. “Then it gets us out of the house for a bit. Don’t think I can’t hear you two arguing more and more lately.”

Klaus picked at his nails, wishing he had some polish. At least then he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty.

“I think it’s a good idea. And we can get Klaus and Ben some training in the field,” Dean said.

“. . . Alright,” Sam agreed. “But if it really is nothing, I get the privilege of saying ‘I told you so’.”

“Fine by me.”

Off they went. Klaus loved the road trips, jamming to classic rock music and seeing the world fly by. Sam didn’t seem to enjoy the selection of music, but he never said anything. It was funny to watch as his face scrunched up whenever a particular song he didn’t like came on.

Having lived with Klaus for as long as he did, Ben didn’t mind the music. He quietly read beside Klaus as the other sang his heart out.

The trip was over way too soon, in Klaus’s opinion. They only stopped a couple of times on the way there, and Klaus was still munching on his bag of gummy worms when they stepped up to the fraternity house.

There were common ghosts that milled about the area, some looking like they had partied too hard and died accidentally while others had been killed along the street. Klaus, irritated by so many crowding him after having near silence for so long, batted at them like they were annoying flies. Ben tried to play defense to keep them away, but they didn’t really pay much attention to him. Unlike Klaus.

“I wish I could use the Horror on them like last time,” Ben grumbled. They had tried, in the past, to do that, but it never worked. Only with Mary, apparently.

“Different circumstances, Benny,” Klaus whispered as Sam and Dean chatted with the people that probably knew their victim. He popped another worm into his mouth. “You were both corporeal for that.”

“Then make me corporeal again,” Ben said. “Let me get rid of them for you.”

Klaus shook his head subtly. “It’s not gonna matter anyway. We’re outside and there will just be more that come. I’ll get tired faster if I try to get rid of them either way. So, just ignore them until I get stronger with my abilities.”

Ben pouted, but nodded and followed behind Klaus as they both ignored the ghosts.

Sam frowned as he was handed the pail of paint, annoyance towards his brother strong. “The things he could do with a brush”. Yeah, just wait, Dean, he’ll shove the brush up his brother’s ass.

Klaus got off free because he was still munching on gummy worms. The only reason Sam wasn’t upset by that as well was because Klaus could stand to gain a few pounds.

The guy that Sam was painting purple (for a game or something) said, “Rich was a good guy.”

“Rich,” Sam said, trying to ignore the fact that this dude was covered in zits, and that one wrong move with the brush might make one pop. “Was he with someone?”

“Not just someone,” the guy said, stars in his eyes. “ Lori Sorenson .”

Were they supposed to know who that was? Sam glanced at Klaus, the one who had more knowledge about celebrities than the Winchesters, but Klaus just shrugged.

“Who’s Lori Sorenson?” Dean asked. To Sam, he said, “You missed a spot on the lower back.”

He was enjoying this , that absolute prick!

Oh, Sam was so going to kill him for this.

“Lori’s a freshman,” the guy explained. “She’s a local. Suuuuuper hot. And, get this, she’s a reverend’s daughter.”

Klaus choked on a worm. “You have got to be kidding me,” he wheezed.

Dean seemed much more interested now, and Sam just rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to know which church, would you?”

After gaining an address, they hopped back into the Impala and made the quick drive over. From the back seat, Klaus became more fidgety the closer they got to the church. “Everything alright?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Klaus nodded, face nervous. “I just don’t like places that have, you know, graveyards. I’ll stay in here while you guys get more info. Maybe chat with a ghost?” He chuckled, but it sounded shaky.

“No worries,” Dean said. “We won’t be long in there. If it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do anything.”

Klaus nodded his thanks and leaned back into his seat, looking much calmer now. Sam shared a look with Dean. They’d talk about this later.

The reverend didn’t seem terribly affected by the loss of his daughter’s boyfriend. He even praised the boy for sacrificing his life to protect the girl. Honestly, when Dean slammed the door closed to interrupt the man, Sam had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Instead, he slapped Dean’s arm, and Dean gave an exasperated sigh at the reprimand.

The reverend went on and the brothers went to sit in one of the back pews. As Sam was taking his seat, his eyes met with a girl towards the front. Her caramel locks reflected the multicolored light from the stained glass windows high above. Sam gave her a polite smile, and she ducked her head away from him.

“So, please, let us pray for peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children,” the reverend finished, bowing his head. The congregation followed his lead in a moment of silence. Sam did so as well, in a sign of respect, and nudged Dean to do the same when his idiot brother spaced out next to him.

At the conclusion of the meeting, people got up in a huge crowd to go their separate ways. Sam whispered to Dean, “You go check on Klaus. I’ll talk to the girl.”

Dean waggled his brows. “Don’t have too much fun while I’m away.”

Sam screwed up his face, appalled at the suggestion. “Ew, dude, no. She just lost her boyfriend.”

“So? When has that ever stopped us.”

He shook his head in denial. “Just . . . no.” Not after Jessica. Not so soon. He couldn’t disrespect her like that.

Dean seemed to understand, because he merely sighed and nodded. “Fine. But one day, you’re gonna have to put yourself back out there. You can’t just . . . swear yourself off. It’s not healthy.”

“I’ll decide for myself what’s healthy and what’s not, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

Sam watched as Dean walked out, then went around from person to person trying to find Lori. His ears caught on to the name and he drew closer to the source, finding the caramel haired girl from before, hugging a woman with a black coiled mane.

“Are you Lori?” he asked as he came up to her once her friend was gone. She twisted around to face him, surprise in her features.

“Yeah,” she gave a hesitant smile and brushed her hair behind her ear.

“My name is Sam. My brother Dean is the one who interrupted the meeting.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded, recognition flitting through her eyes.

“Sorry,” Sam said, sheepishly. “He’s not here right now, though, so he won’t be making any rude comments.”

She giggled and bit her lip. “Well, that’s a relief.”

He huffed a short laugh and put his hands in his front pockets. “We just transferred here to the University.”

Lori nodded along, smiling wider. “It’s a quiet town, but the parties can get pretty crazy.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I bet. Hey, listen, I don’t mean to bother you, but me and my brother heard about what happened. I wanted to apologize. I kind of know what you’re going through right now. I . . . recently lost my girlfriend, too.” He shuffled his weight, slightly uncomfortable about the topic. “It’s something you don’t forget.”

Her smile faded, eyes taking on a haunted look. As she opened her mouth to speak, the reverend came up behind her. “Ah. Dad. Um, this is Sam. He and his brother Dean are new to the University.”

“It’s so nice to see young people who are open to the Lord’s message,” the reverend said as he shook Sam’s hand. “Thank you for joining us during this hard time.”

Sam nodded and the three of them lapsed into awkward silence. He wanted to ask Lori more questions, but her father wouldn’t leave. He tried to think of a way to get Lori alone. “Um--”

“Oh, reverend,” Klaus suddenly appeared by Sam’s side, dressed in his ruby red dress and fluttering long eyelashes at the man. The reverend recoiled at the sight, alarmed at Klaus’s appearance. “I’m so glad that I found you. Tell these big fools that dresses are for girls and boys!” He jerked a thumb at Sam and Dean, the latter running up behind him.

“I-I--”

“So sorry,” Dean panted, taking Klaus’s arm. “This is our little brother. He’s kinda--” he whistled and circled a finger around his temple. “Could you maybe give us some of your wisdom? It would help.”

“I beg pardon?” Klaus frowned, but Sam could tell it was an act. What the hell were these two doing? “I am completely sane! The ghosts agree with me, right?” He glanced to the side and nodded along to whoever was there, if anyone. “See!”

“If  you could . . . I don’t know, even just give a blessing of some sort?”

“Of course,” the reverend took Klaus’s other arm and frogmarched him away. Sam noticed that Klaus winced at the sudden and unwanted touch, but he quickly morphed his face to something more delighted in a second. Sam might have imagined it. “This is a very serious case!”

As they disappeared around the bend, Sam was left alone with a gaping Lori. “That’s . . . your little brother?”

Sam coughed into his hand, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Yes. He’s been through a lot lately and it’s starting to affect him negatively.”

She twisted her mouth into an “o”. He decided to change the subject swiftly before she ran off.

“What are the police saying about all this? About what happened to your boyfriend.”

Lori hesitated, but as Sam led her further away from where Klaus had been, she seemed more willing to open up. In fact, she seemed pretty bitter when she said, “Well, they don’t have much to go on. I think they blame me for that.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, tilting his brows up in sympathy.

“My story,” she explained. “I was so scared I guess I was . . . seeing things.”

“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.”

They stopped, gazes locked, hazel meeting brown. She shifted closer, lips twitching and eyes welling. Had anyone believed her? Given her the benefit of the doubt? Then again, when faced with the unknown, people tended to rationalize to keep their sanity intact. Keep their reality from shifting.

“I . . .” she swallowed. “I heard scratching outside, loud and earsplitting, like nails on a chalkboard. Rich got out to look for the source while I waited in the car. That’s when the car shook, something scraping along the side and popping one of the tires. The widows cracked. When I looked up again to find Rich, he was missing. I was scared. So I locked the doors and hid under the dash. That’s when I heard scratching on the roof of the car.”

She took a deep breath, Sam paying attention to every word. “Once it was quiet enough, I got out of the car to make a run for it. When I glanced back . . .” She covered her lips. “Rich was hanging upside down over the car, his front slashed open a-and dripping--”

“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hands. “You don’t have to say more.”

She nodded in gratitude, seeming grateful to have gotten it all out. She took a shaky breath in and a calming one out. “I just wish I could have done something, you know? I just sat there . . .”

“I know,” Sam said. He completely understood. Jessica’s screams still haunted him. “I know.”

Chapter Text

Klaus thought, in his most humble opinion, that his plan was flawless and spectacular in every way. Ben, in his “humble opinion”, thought that Klaus was a complete moron.

Distracting the reverend was smart, he’ll give him credit for that. But thinking that playing the “I’m mentally insane and a cross-dresser, please pray it away!” card to gain information out of the man was ridiculous. The fact that Dean went with it boggled Ben’s mind.

But here they were, inside the chapel filled with ghosts that hadn’t yet seen Klaus but would at any moment, gleaning any information that they could while Sam talked to Lori. Ben had noticed that Klaus was uncomfortable with the reverend’s touch; he hated any touch that he didn’t initiate first. Now, the reverend was giving Klaus a blessing or whatever while Klaus paid barely any attention as he tried to keep as incognito as possible so the ghosts wouldn’t attack him all at once. Harder than one would think, since the whole place was swarming and Klaus was like a light in a dark room to them. 

This was a terrible, stupid, ridiculous idea. Why did Klaus never listen to him?

“Amen,” the reverend finished, taking his hands away from Klaus’s curly-haired head. 

“Right, thank you so much,” Dean looped an arm around Klaus’s shoulder, spooking the other. Ben clenched his teeth. He’d have to remember to tell Sam and Dean later about some of Klaus’s triggers.

Klaus relaxed after a few seconds once he realized who was touching him. “Yes, thank you, Rev!” He batted his lashes in that special way that usually got him a bed for the night. Ben rolled his eyes as the poor reverend shuffled uncomfortably.

“You’re most welcome. I pray for your continued wellbeing,” he said.

“Say, reverend, do you have any tips for rowdy teenagers like Klaus?” Dean asked. “You see, our parents are gone and we’re all he’s got left. It would help.”

“Of course,” the reverend said as he led them to a pew. “When Lori was a teenager, I had to keep a special eye on her. So many troubling things happen at this age, as you know.” He pointedly glanced at Klaus’s state of dress, and Ben felt a sense of offence on Klaus’s behalf. Klaus, though, just continued to stare at nothing, eyes glazing over.

“I never allowed her to date until she was out on her own. Boys tend to lure unsuspecting girls into situations they don’t know how to handle, and take advantage of them. I wanted to make sure that she knew what to do should such a situation arise. She had sworn herself off until marriage, you know. That way she’d remain pure until such a time.”

“Of course,” Dean squeezed Klaus’s shoulder, and the boy nodded along. He wasn’t paying much attention, but Ben usually paid enough attention for the both of them, so it was fine. Ben allowed for him to check out in a situation like this.

The ghosts became more restless, whispers dancing between pews.

“So what did you think when you learned that Lori had a boyfriend?” Dean asked.

“Well, I didn’t know about him until the accident. She wanted a more private life outside of me, so she didn’t talk much about anything personal. It worried me. The lessons I had taught her when she was younger would have to have been enough.” The man sighed. “I just wish that he didn’t have to die in such a horrible way, though I’m glad he protected my daughter.”

Dean nodded and shifted when Klaus flinched at a particularly nasty looking ghost that got too close. “And her story? Did you believe what she said about it?”

The reverend sighed and shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “No. I think it was very traumatizing to her, and that seeing her boyfriend dead caused some . . . hallucinations, perhaps.” His eyes flicked to Klaus, who dodged a swipe from a ghost. “Sometimes the mind can come up with things in a trying situation.”

Dean stood, worry crossing his features for no longer than a moment. “Speaking of . . . I think I should get my brother back to the car. He’s having a hard time coping, and I think talking about . . . you know, death--is affecting him.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” the man stood with them. “Please, make sure he is taken care of.”

Dean smiled. “We will.”

Ben agreed wholeheartedly.

Later, at the library, Dean and Sam left Klaus at a table and walked through some of the rows in search of information. Dean was worried about Klaus and how spaced out he seemed after being in the chapel, but hopefully being in a quiet place filled with people would help? Dean turned to Sam.

“So, you believe her?”

“I don’t know, there was something in her eyes . . . She believed what she was saying.” Sam explained some of what Lori had told him.

“Wait, hanging upside down, that sounds like--”

“Like the Hookman legend, I know,” Sam nodded.

“That’s one of the most famous urban legends,” Dean said. “You don’t think that we’re dealing with the Hookman?”

“Every urban legend has a source, a place where it all began.”

“What about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures? The invisible killer?”

“Well . . . maybe the Hookman isn’t a man at all. What if it’s some kind of spirit?”

Dean’s eyes found themselves back on Klaus, still slumped in the same chair and eyes vacant. “. . . You want Klaus to make sure?”

“It’s worth a shot. I mean, it would make sense, right?”

“And if it is a spirit?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean bit his lip and drew his eyes back to his brother. “Look, something happened back at the chapel. It had Klaus really spooked. You know how he acted in the car, right?”

Sam pursed his lips and didn’t answer.

“Yeah. He was jumpy in there and his eyes kept darting around . . . he was scared, Sam. I don’t know why, but being in the chapel, near a graveyard, really freaked him out. What if going up against ghosts isn’t such a good idea for him? What if it hurts him more?”

“But . . . he might be the only one that can solve problems like this,” Sam argued. “We can be there for him to fall back on, but we need him, Dean.”

Anger surged through Dean suddenly, surprising him. They weren’t just going to use Klaus for their own gain! That was wrong on so many levels. They shouldn’t have to rely on him like that, put all that pressure on him. He took a moment to calm himself before he spoke.

“Sammy, we’ve hunted ghosts before. We don’t need to hurt Klaus to get the job done.”

Hurt flashed in Sam’s eyes. “That . . . that isn’t what I meant. I know it’s not ideal--”

“Sam--”

“--but this hunt is already difficult. Searching through records for hours will put us back, and someone else could get harmed. I’m saying, if we have something to help us get things done faster, we should use it. If Klaus can identify who this guy is, we can gank him before the situation gets really bad.”

Dean shook his head, hating how right Sam was. He didn’t like it one bit, and he could tell Sam didn’t either. Pointing a finger at Sam’s chest, Dean said, “We do things the old fashioned way first. We search, and if we can find something within the next few hours, then we don’t resort to having to use Klaus like that.”

“And if we don’t find anything?”

Dean shrugged helplessly. “Then we ask for his help. It’s up to him if he wants to, though, understood?”

Sam smiled, relief in his gaze. “Absolutely. I was thinking the same.”

Two hours later and they had a guy. Jacob Karns, a preacher from 1862 that killed 13 prostitutes and either left them in blood soaked beds or hung them upside down from trees to stand as an example. The murder weapon was a silver hook that replaced the man’s hand after he had had an accident a few years before the murders.

Klaus was looking much better about an hour in, having a quiet conversation with Ben and occasionally asking questions here and there while the Winchesters worked. Some people gave the boy the stink eye from the way he was dressed, but Klaus didn’t mind. He just chatted away like he normally did, though his eyes weren’t as bright as they usually were. Dean was just glad that he was getting better after what happened in the chapel.

He was also glad that they found something before the library closed. He didn’t want to have to use Klaus to figure out killer ghost identities.

So here they were, Klaus sleeping in the back of the Impala while the Winchesters searched the 9 mile road where the murders took place, and, funnily enough, right where the frat boy had been killed.

“If this is a spirit, buckshot won’t do much good,” Sam said as Dean unloaded the trunk.

“Yeah, rocksalt,” Dean countered, handing Sam a few rounds.

Sam seemed impressed by that. “Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent.”

“Yep,” Dean said, feeling slight pride at the invention. “Won’t kill ‘em, but it’ll slow ‘em down.”

“That’s pretty good. You and Dad think of this?”

“I told you,” Dean said, smug. “You don’t have to be a college graduate to be a genius.”

He could feel Sam’s eye roll, and he preened.

Something creaked ahead of them in the trees, and they stopped. Sam lifted his gun while Dean trained his eyes on the spot. “Over there,” he whispered as he gestured minutely through the trees. Sam levelled the gun where he gestured to.

More creaking, and the snapping of branches. Footsteps creeped closer, the night air chilled between them but electric with tension. Dean narrowed his gaze, trying to make out what was coming closer.

“Put the gun down now!” a police officer shouted, storming out of the trees. His gun was raised, and Dean threw his hands up while Sam hastily dropped his weapon. “Hands behind your head.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Dean held out one hand in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay.” He shrugged off his duffle.

“Get on your knees!”

“Alright.” Dean complied, Sam already down. They placed their hands behind their heads.

“Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!”

“He had the gun,” Dean complained. They did as asked.

The cop rushed forward and started reciting their rights as the cuffs came out.

“Oh shi--” Dean’s eyes widened and he wiggled under the cop. The cop barked orders at him to stay still.

Dean, eyes frantic, turned to Sam. Sam seemed to understand just as he did.

Klaus was still in the car. Klaus was asleep in the car in an area where a ghost murdered someone .

Chapter Text

Klaus woke to screaming.

Now, that wasn’t an unusual thing for him, being who he was. So, naturally, he immediately assumed it was a ghost and rolled over, pressing his free hand against his uncovered ear with a moan.

It was cold and dark and there was screaming and why was the backseat turning into hard stone--?

“Klaus, you’re okay,” Ben whispered above him, sounding worried. What for, Klaus didn’t know, since Ben had seen him like this enough times to no longer be concerned. At least, he thought so.

Klaus buried his face further into the bench seat--(the cold stone of a mausoleum)--and breathed. At least he tried to. Air wasn’t really entering his lungs right. Something was blocking it’s entry into his lungs. Something lodged in his throat.

He choked on a breath, coughing to try and dislodge whatever it was, but it wouldn’t budge. In fact, it seemed to be getting worse.

It felt like someone was grabbing his throat and squeezing, and terror shot through him. He could make ghosts real, now. Was one of them strangling him?

"Klaus, breathe," Ben's voice cut through the cloud that surrounded his head. And when did that happen? "Breathe. In, and out. Slow."

He was trying! The cloud was growing bigger and bigger, and his eyes grew hazy. It was too cold, too dark, too much --

Klaus. Klaus. Klausklausklaus--

"Four!"

That snapped Klaus out of whatever funk he was in, and he took a desperate, ragged breath that ended in a cough. He wheezed as he was suddenly thrown from the mausoleum into the backseat of the Impala. The emotional whiplash almost made him gag, and he curled in tighter underneath his jacket.

Ben hovered over him, expression filled with worry and fear. When their eyes met, Ben released a sigh.

“Hey. Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Klaus’s voice was scratchy.

“Shh,” Ben held a finger to his lips, and Klaus looked at him inquisitively. “Be quiet, and stay down.”

“Ben?”

The screaming started up again. It was closer than Klaus thought, and he shuddered.

"Who is that? What's going on?" Klaus made sure to whisper. Ben still cringed.

"It's the frat boy. He's on a repeat of how he died."

And that . . . Klaus hated ghosts like that. No wonder Ben wanted him to stay quiet. No wonder Klaus had had a flashback. Those types didn't realize they were dead, stuck in a never ending loop for all eternity in the moments of their demise. The last time he had met one, he had gone out and took so many pills he had to have his stomach pumped by Mom.

Because as soon as they saw Klaus . . . As soon as they realized that he could see them . . . They became aggressive and handsy and screamed until his ears bled and he begged-- help me--!

But they hadn't been spotted. Not yet, due to Ben's smart thinking.

"Where's Sam and Dean?" He whispered, no more than a breath past numb lips. He didn't want to jinx himself just by thinking of the boy that was in pure agony, so he changed the subject.

“Uh,” Ben winced. Klaus narrowed his eyes.

“Ben? Where’s Sam and Dean.”

“They were kind of . . . arrested.”

“. . . Ex squeeze me? Repeat that again for me, brother dear, because I thought you said that Sam and Dean, actual hunters and killers of evil beings that go bump in the night, were arrested by some mortal cop who probably knows nothing about the supernatural.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Ben said, sounding grumpy, but there was an undercurrent of worry in his tone.

“How on earth did that happen!”

Ben shushed him, and for a terrifying moment, everything was silent. Nothing but the wind blowing overhead could be heard, the leaves rustling to the tune. Klaus’s blood ran cold.

The screeching began once more, and Klaus could breathe again. Ben let out a harsh sigh.

“They let themselves be arrested. The cop saw them with a gun.”

Klaus buried his face in his jacket sleeve and scrubbed futilely at his eyes until stars burst behind his lids. “And they didn’t knock him out?”

“The cop had a gun on them. I don’t think they wanted to cause any trouble.”

Klaus groaned into his sleeve, “So, we’re on our own?”

“We’re on our own,” Ben confirmed.

Klaus wiggled around in the backseat, anxiety creeping in. He needed to get out of the car. He needed to stretch his legs. ( He needed a joint-- )

He suddenly sat up and fumbled with the door handle, Ben hissing as Klaus went through him. “Klaus!” Ben reached out towards him, but Klaus needed out and he needed it now .

The door flung open with a loud wail, and Klaus tumbled from the car. He relaxed as cool air whipped around him, filling his insides until he couldn’t hold any more, and warmth leaving in a cloud. Ben hovered at his side, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for his brother but didn’t know how. Klaus didn’t let him.

The screaming of the ghost continued. He didn’t look at it, already knowing from what the Winchesters had described that it would be gruesome and unholy. Knew that the boy would be hanging upside down, his blood pouring out in waterfalls. He refused to see it, hoping it would leave him well enough alone.

He hadn’t called Vanya yet. The weekend would be over by tomorrow.

He didn’t have the energy yet. He’d ask Ben to remind him.

“Klaus?”

Klaus turned to Ben, his jacket hanging loosely on his shoulders and the red dress he still hadn’t taken off a bit too open for this kind of weather. He was always so, so cold.

He wished Ben was alive, in that moment. Ben used to have the best hugs, the warmth he gave like a furnace. He wanted Ben’s warmth now, wanted his brother’s secure arms around him as he drifted away.

Ben could see it. He knew Klaus better than Klaus knew himself, sometimes. Ben’s sorrowful gaze only broke Klaus’s heart further.

They were totally screwed up, weren’t they?

The screaming stopped. The night was cold. The song repeated.

“Klaus.” Ben’s hand floated above his shoulder. He stopped, eyes flicking to something behind Klaus. They narrowed, brows coming together.

“Ben?” Klaus turned around, trying to see what his brother saw. Nothing. Just trees and a sign with a crooked line embedded through it. The mark that Hookman had left before he murdered the frat boy.

“I . . .” Ben shook his head, confused. “I thought I saw something. Maybe not.”

A niggling feeling grew in Klaus’s chest. Something didn’t feel right.

“Maybe you saw a deer?” he suggested.

“Maybe . . . I think you should get back in the car.”

The feeling of wrong grew stronger. Klaus paused, ears attuned to the area and eyes trained on the trees. Leaves rustled. The screaming stopped.

The screaming did not start up again.

Klaus’s breath hitched. “Ben, something’s not right--”

Scraping, ear-piercingly loud, shattered through the quiet of the night. Klaus clapped his hands over his ears, eyes darting around.

A figure, too dark to make out any defining features other than a blob of wrong , stood next to the sign several feet away. Silver flashed in the moonlight, sharp and deadly. The figure wafted away like it was merely a smoke cloud in the breeze as soon as Klaus’s eyes found it.

“Klaus, you should get in the car,” Ben whispered. The dead frat boy was nowhere in sight.

“What--”

Trees splintered to Klaus’s right, wood flying inches from his face. Klaus yelped and dove into the backseat of the vehicle. The figure stalked out of the trees, the hook at his side glinting menacingly. Klaus grabbed for the door and slammed it closed, locking it and all the others.

“Go away,” Klaus whimpered, holding out his hand. “Go away!”

The figure came closer. Klaus could see its features, see the yellowed teeth under the stretch of cracked lips in a facsimile of a smile. Eyes, dark and shadowed, peered out beneath a wide-brimmed hat. Long, stringy hair hung around its face.

“Go away !” Klaus shouted, but he didn’t feel the familiar tug. He didn’t see a flash of pale blue. All he felt was sinking dread.

The Hookman raised his arm, then came down with so much force that the window shattered and part of the door dented. Klaus scrambled back until he was against the far door.

“Klaus!” Ben yelped. His brother shoved himself at the Hookman, but he just tumbled through. “Wh-What?”

Klaus unlocked the door behind him and clambered out the other side of the car. 

He ran.

He wasn’t fast enough.

The Hookman appeared before him, hook poised right above Klaus’s chest, aimed right for his heart. Klaus stuttered to a stop, his feet tangling together and causing him to fall back. He closed his eyes, heart thumping painfully fast against his ribs. 

He heard a swoosh. He felt a tug. His jacket tore and he felt pressure on his fragile, pale skin. It would tear like paper.

He would bleed dry on a dirt road, alone except for his dead brother.

The hook didn’t make it past a light scratch. His dress wasn’t drenched in a dark, crimson red. He fell onto his back. He gaped, trying to get air into unresponding lungs.

Above him, Ben stood like a guardian angel, his tentacles wrapped firmly around the Hookman. Klaus could make out the blue dancing across his fingers. Not enough to make Ben real. How was this happening?

The Hookman disappeared the same way he had earlier, crumbling apart in the wind.

Ben stayed above Klaus for several moments, Klaus finally able to take halting breaths while his brother kept his eyes peeled and the Horror unleashed. The breeze was silent. The trees were calm. Anxiety crippled Klaus like a bad leg.

One tentacle looped around Klaus’s middle protectively, and Klaus felt so inexplicably safe that it hurt. He curled into it, embracing it like he would his mother’s hugs, and shook silently.

The night went on. Cicadas rumbled in the bushes. The stars blinked mockingly in an inky sky.

The screaming began again.

Klaus welcomed the darkness that came for him.

They were released in the morning, having spent all night in a holding cell. Dean had apparently gotten them out by half-lying and by calling Sam a “dumbass pledge”. Sam would never tell him that it was smart, because he was petty like that.

They were heading out of the police department when they spotted Baby sitting innocuously along the road. Did the cops tow her? Did they find Klaus in the backseat? Surely they would have had more questions if that were the case.

The closer they got, though, the more Sam’s stomach turned. Something was wrong with the Impala. He didn’t know just what until Dean swore.

“Son of a bitch !” Dean rushed for his car, and Sam could see the shattered glass and huge dent in the door facing away from the street. It probably looked much worse on the other side.

Sam’s blood chilled and his heart dropped. “ Klaus . . .”

Dean rounded the car and swore again, then whipped the door open. Immediately, a long blue thing shot out of the car and wrapped around Dean. Ben shimmered into view, face pinched and eyes a startling yellow. 

“Ben!” Sam called to him. He held up his hands when Ben whirled to him. “Ben it’s us. It’s Sam and Dean.”

The pained yet determined look in his eyes didn’t fade, but he hadn’t ripped Dean to shreds, so Sam took it as a win.

“Ben, where’s Klaus?” Sam asked, tone gentle.

At the name, Ben’s face hardened, and he growled angrily. He didn’t hurt Dean.

“Where is Klaus?” Sam asked again. He inched forward, the feral look that Ben had alarming him.

Just what happened to them while Sam and Dean weren’t there to protect them?

“He is safe,” Ben said, but his voice wasn’t really . . . his. It was ancient. Layered. Several voices melting together. “We are keeping him safe.”

“He’s hurt,” Dean said, eyes trained onto something in the car. Klaus . “He’s pale and shaking. Let us help him.”

“No!” Ben snarled. “He is ours . We will help our brother.”

“Ben,” Sam pleaded. “We won’t hurt him, we promise. We just want to help.”

Ben hesitated, eyes flashing between brown and yellow. “You promise not to let him get hurt?”

Sam nodded, a small smile on his face. “We promise that both of you will be safe.”

The tentacle unwrapped itself from around Dean and made its way back under Ben’s clothes. “We have used too much of our brother’s energy. We kept him safe all night.”

“What happened?” Sam asked softly, opening the side door and sliding in next to Ben. Klaus lay under the ghost, deathly pale and shivering. Dark circles cut deep under his eyes, and Sam pointed to the gash in Klaus’s jacket to Dean. Dean nodded and took over in first aid.

“Our brother was attacked,” Ben said, but his eyes were slowly changing back to their normal, soothing brown. His voice, too, was becoming lighter, more like the Ben they knew. “A man with a hook. I pushed my way through the barrier to help him. I used his energy as a battery. It wasn’t as taxing on him, so I was able to stay like this all night.” Ben glanced to Klaus, who had a white-knuckle grip on Ben’s ankle. Even when Dean tried to release his fingers, Klaus stubbornly held on. “I drove us here.”

“That’s . . .” Amazing, really. Fascinating. Beyond what Klaus has been capable of before. These two were really amounting to something great. “Incredible,” he settled on.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through Klaus’s curls. “He’s alright. Just a scratch on his chest. He’s probably mentally damaged more than anything.”

“His powers didn’t work,” Ben said as he started to fade. Sam supposed that he deemed Klaus safe, now that the older brothers were here. “Against the Hookman, that is. Something wasn’t right. He is a spirit, though.” He faded from view, and Klaus relaxed in his sleep. Color began to return to his face, but he gripped at the bench seat just as tightly as he did Ben’s ankle.

Sam made eye contact with Dean, and his big brother just shrugged helplessly. “I’m just glad he’s still alive,” Dean said. “I’m pissed that Baby got damaged, though.”

His brother frowned at the dent in the Impala’s door, and Sam shook his head with a breathy laugh. “Of course.”

“Don’t disrespect her,” Dean growled as he pointed at him. Sam just shook his head.

“I would never do that to my home.”

The doors to the police department burst open and cops ran out of the building and to their cars. Sam watched on, the cars pulling out in a rush with sirens blaring.

“Now, just what is that all about?” Dean asked, voice flat. Sam hummed.

Dean started the engine and followed the direction the cops went.

Hazy awareness came to Klaus slowly. First, it was his hearing (mutterings of deeper voices and Ben--Benny, Ben, Ben --telling him everything was alright). Next was his feeling (soft leather, scratchy floor, warmth surrounding him). Last was his sight (muddled oranges and yellows flecking over the ceiling, big brown eyes watching him worriedly, and a red tassel next to his nose).

Klaus sat up with a groan, holding his head. He had the worst headache in existence. His dress shifted closer to his hip, but he didn’t have the energy to care about modesty (not that he ever did) so he didn’t bother to move it back down.

His noise drew the attention of the people on the front bench and he saw Sam and Dean smiling at him.

“Klaus,” Dean said, tone even but relief in his eyes. “You’re awake.”

“Where were you guys?” Klaus whined. “And also, why are you here now? Weren’t you, like, arrested?”

Dean snorted, and Sam glared at him. “Don’t you dare.”

The eldest held up his hands in surrender, but amusement still shone through.

“We got out. Found you in the Impala with Ben standing guard,” Sam explained.

Klaus turned to Ben. “You were?”

Ben blushed and hunched his shoulders up to his ears. “The Horror was very demanding. Pretty sure they just kinda . . . took over.” He flapped a hand.

“Awwe, isn’t that so sweet ,” Klaus said in an annoyingly high voice. “Benny, you love me.”

“Shut up, stupid,” Ben grumbled, pretending to shove him away. Klaus snickered.

“You love me. You need me. You wanna hold me,” Klaus sang.

Ben laughed, and Klaus grinned. Score for annoying brother. “If you hadn’t nearly died last night, I’d be pissed at you right now.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

“How the hell did you get a ghost to attack you when we haven’t even been here two days?”

Klaus shrugged. “Must be my charm.”

Ben glowered, but Klaus assumed that was his usual broody self, so he turned back to the Winchesters, both of whom had tuned out the conversation to discuss privately together.

“So, what’s the news?”

"The Hookman didn’t just go after you last night,” Dean said, suddenly grim. “Lori’s roommate just bit the dust.”

Chapter Text

“If I was attacked on the 9 mile, and so was the frat boy, why would Lori’s roommate be attacked?” Klaus asked, leaning back into his seat with an exhausted yawn.

Sympathy tugged at Dean’s chest. “We’re thinking maybe something else is going on. The spirit is definitely Jacob Karns, though. We found his mark on the girls’ wall.”

“You found it . . .” Klaus sat up straighter, eyes narrowed. “ Please tell me you two didn’t go to an active crime scene and get your prints all over it.”

Sam glanced at Dean, and Dean just wiggled uncomfortably.

“Well, we didn’t touch the actual scene . . .” he defended.

“Holy hell , I can’t believe you two are so stupid,” Klaus tugged at his curls.

“Hey,” Sam brought out the puppy eyes, and Klaus softened lightly. Dean smirked internally. No one could resist. “We needed to know what was going on, and if it was, in fact, Jacob Karns.”

“But you didn’t need to almost get arrested again for tampering with evidence! I swear, you guys are gonna put me in an early grave with the amount of stress you put me through on the daily.” He tilted his head. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Speaking of, I need to call Vanya. What do you mean the day is almost over!” He lunged for his phone, buried under his other clothes (that he had yet to change back into).

“Oh, good, you have something to do while we take care of what Lori’s been up to.” Dean grunted, turning the engine over.

Klaus frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Jacob Karns was buried in an unmarked grave,” Sam patiently explained. “It’s near impossible to track down an unmarked grave, so we’re looking into Lori for any clues. We’re about to stop by the library and a party nearby, ask around for where Lori might be, and we didn’t think you’d like to go inside the second option where a lot of temptations are. Are you okay to stay out in the car?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean caught Klaus in the mirror, looking choked up. “Y-Yeah.” The kid cleared his throat. “Yes. Thank you.”

Klaus chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “Ben says that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Go and have fun, you two! Don’t do anything I would!”

It was night by the time that Sam and Dean left the car to go into the party. Ben watched Klaus as his brother dialed Vanya’s number. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but . . . well, everything Klaus did, Ben did too. Ben was basically a part of Klaus, just as much as Klaus was a part of Ben. Unhealthy? Yeah, but Ben was dead, so it didn’t matter anymore.

He didn’t mention anything when Klaus held the phone out so Ben could listen in anyway.

“. . . Hello?” Vanya answered on the second ring.

“Vanya!” Klaus sang, nervous aura buried beneath faux eccentricity. Ben rolled his eyes, but huddled closer to his brother so he could hear his quiet sister’s voice.

“Klaus?” Vanya’s voice grew louder. “Is everything okay? You almost missed the time to call . . . I almost thought that you . . .”

She didn’t say more, but they understood all the same. She thought they weren’t going to keep their promise, that they would forget about her.

“No, no,” Klaus reassured. “I’m sorry I didn’t call beforehand. I forgot, and Benny had to remind me. Um . . . that and I got in a bit of trouble and passed out in the back of a car until just a little bit ago.”

Vanya ignored the part about Ben (Ben pretended that it didn’t hurt, but it always did), and instead demanded, “Trouble? What kind of trouble? And what car?”

Klaus raised a brow. Vanya wasn’t one to demand things, usually. She preferred to wait things out and casually place her two cents in when there was a quiet moment, only to take it back again. She must have been really concerned.

“Nothing to worry about, my dear,” Klaus flapped a hand around. “I’m with my new buddies! The ones I told you about, remember?”

“No, because you didn’t really talk about them.”

“Oh!” Klaus smacked his head. “My bad. Sam and Dean Winchester. We’re going on this long road trip and it’s pretty fantastic. They got me out of some trouble here and there. Really great guys.”

“You’re alone with two strangers?” Vanya asked, sounding extremely worried. “Klaus, you don’t think . . . aren’t you trusting these people a little too quickly? What if they try to do something to you? And what happened last night?”

“No no! They’re good people. One even went to Stanford! And what happened last night . . .” Klaus glanced at Ben, but Ben shook his head. He didn’t want Klaus telling their little sister about a ghost attacking him. With her severe anxiety, it might put her in a tailspin. “I got really wasted,” Klaus said instead.

Ben smacked his forehead.

Vanya sighed disappointedly on the other end, and Ben wanted to grab the phone and tell her that Klaus was a liar , but he couldn’t because if Klaus having been attacked would have scared her, the voice of her dead brother would probably give her a heart attack. She just . . . believed him so quickly. Were all of their siblings like that? Just ready to believe that Klaus was a junkie, a failure, a letdown?

By the look on Klaus’s face, the answer was yes. Pain etched deep lines in his brows. Ben hated it.

“Really, Klaus? Didn’t you say you were getting sober?” Ben had to strain to hear her words, quiet as they were. Disappointed. Klaus hated it when people were disappointed in him. At least, when those people were those he actually cared for.

“I am!” Klaus squeaked. “I haven’t done any drugs for like a month!”

Vanya’s tone shifted to a warmer sound. “And I’m proud of you for that. I just wish you could take out all of your vices.”

Klaus hummed and fiddled with one of his tassels. “Well, enough of that. How are you? Last time we talked, you mentioned a possible friend?”

Vanya hesitated, seeming to not want to drop the subject just yet. With a sigh, she said, “Yeah.” He could hear her smile through the phone. “Her name is Emma. She’s really nice to me.”

Ben softened. The wistful tone she carried twisted his heartstrings, but he was so happy that she found a friend. Back in the Academy, they were hardly allowed to like each other, nevermind make friends outside the premises. And Vanya, their sweet little sister who had such a big heart, deserved the world.

Maybe Emma could help in giving her the world.

“She sounds nice, based off of that tone,” Klaus waggled his brows. Vanya just giggled.

“She’s nothing more than a friend, Klaus. That and we’re only sixteen.”

“Hey, I lost my virginity way younger than sixteen. Just sayin’.”

Vanya let out an exasperated sigh, but Ben winced and hid his face under his hood. That . . . was not a good memory. Klaus hadn’t even shared all of it, mainly because he couldn’t remember it all, but also because he was drunk and high off of cocaine when he had mentioned it. Ben was terrified at the little that Klaus had shared, and he bet that Klaus forcibly blocked the rest of his memory before he lost it.

“Like I said. Just a friend.”

“Well, what is this friend like, other than nice? Oh, I bet Diego is totally being an overprotective mom!”

Ben huffed. Diego would. Although, maybe not so much with a girl?

“I haven’t actually talked about her to the others yet,” Vanya said.

Klaus gasped. “Does this mean it’s a secret just between us ? Vanya, I am so privileged. I swear on my right elbow that I will never tell a soul .”

Vanya, used to Klaus’s weird antics, just huffed a laugh and went into an explanation of what this Emma girl was like. “She has really long, soft looking brown hair. She’s in the orchestra for fun, but she wants to be a dancer when she gets older. She plays the flute, and she’s really good! I told her that I would go to her first dance performance when she became big, and she said that she would be there for my first big concert when I got first chair.”

“First chair?” Klaus asked.

“Yeah. It’s like . . .” she paused, trying to find a way to put it into words that Klaus would understand. “It’s like the quarterback of the orchestra.”

Klaus nodded like he had any idea what that meant. Ben rolled his eyes. “She means that it’s the highest and most coveted position in an orchestra. It means that she would be the coolest person there, the one that everyone leads off of, other than the conductor.”

“Oh! Thank you, Ben. But no need for the big words. I’m too dumb to understand.”

Ben snorted and Vanya went silent.

“Do . . . Klaus, do you still see Ben?” Vanya asked quietly.

“All the damn time,” Klaus groaned. “He’s a naggy little thing. But he does remind me to call you every week!”

“And you said you were sober, right?”

“Yep! Clean as a whistle. Or, well, maybe not a whistle. People blow into whistles and get their spit all in it and that’s pretty nasty.”

“Klaus,” Vanya’s soft voice interrupted before Klaus could go down a long segue as he was wont to do. Klaus shut up immediately. “If he’s really there . . . could you tell him that I love him?”

A large lump formed in Ben's throat, and wanted so badly to grab the phone from Klaus and talk to her. He wanted to tell her about stuff that had happened recently. He wanted to listen to her talk about Emma and the orchestra. He wanted to hear her play for him, just for him. He wanted to ask her how she was and if she wanted to hang out sometime soon, like they used to before . . . before.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t grab the phone and tell her he loved her too, so very much , because he was dead, and dead brothers don’t talk to their alive sisters that have had severe anxiety since they were four. Because if he did that, she would probably go into shock. Or worse, he’d want to go back to that place just to see her and hug her because he missed her so damn much --

“He loves you too, Vanya,” Klaus said sincerely, voice soft and loving. “He really misses you a lot. He wants to talk to you . . .” Ben was shaking his head at Klaus’s questioning glance. “But he can’t. I’m so sorry.”

Vanya took a shaky breath. “Thank you, Klaus. That’s . . . that’s enough for me. I’ll wait for your next call. Bye.”

She hung up before Klaus could return the gesture. His hand dropped to his side, and he tried to peek under Ben’s hood to get a look at him, but Ben just hid himself deeper into himself.

“Ben . . .”

“Don’t,” Ben choked. “Don’t. Please.”

“Okay. Okay, I won’t.” Klaus held up a hand. They remained in silence.

Ben was a coward.

Sam was sent to watch Lori at her house, making sure nothing bad happened, while Dean explained the situation to Klaus and started to hunt down that unmarked grave. They both decided to keep Klaus in the car until they met up again, that way the teen wouldn’t be in any danger mentally or physically. It was the best they could do.

Sam sighed and shouldered his duffle, reading over the stuff he had dug up while at the library. Apparently, there had been another string of murders done by a priest, who claimed it wasn’t him but a ghost. Anyone who the priest had deemed immoral got shanked by a sharp, pointed object. Fit the bill.

They figured that the reverend, Lori’s dad, was behind the killings, having either summoned the ghost of Jacob Karns or that Karns was feeding off of the reverend’s repressed feelings. He wanted to protect his daughter from the dangers of the world, and what better way than having a ghost do the dirty work? A boyfriend he doesn’t approve of? Gone. A roommate who dresses immodestly and drinks? Not a problem anymore.

Klaus, a crossdresser that confuses gender? Better get him out of here before his daughter starts getting ideas .

As he came up beside the house, he could hear Lori’s voice, loud and angry. He glanced up to see her and her father having a fight inside, their silhouettes seen clearly with the light on. He heard words like “divorce” and “difficult situation”. Lori seemed to be extremely upset by something that her dad was telling her. A few swears were thrown around, the reverend looking incensed by her words. Sam decided to sit down on a rock outside the house and not get in the middle of that.

He shrugged off his bag and got comfortable, eyes skimming over the house while he let his thoughts take him elsewhere. He wondered if Dean found the unmarked grave. Probably not, especially since they didn’t want to use Klaus in order to find it while it was night. Poor kid had enough trouble during the day near the graveyard. If they put him in there at night, no doubt it would result in his mental health declining significantly.

They wouldn’t take the risk. Not over this. Well . . . not unless it was the last resort.

Plus, Klaus was still in danger while the ghost was still out.

He heard someone walking towards him, footfalls loud in the grass. Someone unguarded, then. He turned to look at who it was, spotting caramel hair that shined under the light of the moon. Lori.

“I saw you from upstairs,” she greeted, amusement obvious. Sam ducked his head, uncomfortable at being caught sneaking around her house. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m . . . keeping an eye on the place,” he said. No point in lying. The girl had already gone through so much in the last few days.

She came to a stop next to the rock he was seated on, keeping a careful distance, but staying relaxed. He could work with that.

“I was worried,” he said.

“About me?”

“. . . Yeah. Sorry.”

She finally stepped closer, a pleasant smile lighting her features, coming to take a seat on the grass beside him. “No, it’s cool.” She gestured behind her. “I already called the cops.”

They laughed and she tucked a strand of hair behind an ear.

“No, seriously,” she said. “I think you’re sweet. Which is probably why you should run away from me as fast as you can.” Her brown eyes dropped to her lap.

“Why would you say that?”

She sighed, dragging her gaze across the lawn. “It’s like I’m cursed or something. People around me keep dying . . .”

Sam reached out and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I . . . think I know how you feel.”

The desperation in her gaze, the need for someone to understand, someone to listen , overpowered him in that moment. His heart twisted, and he tried to keep the sting in his eyes from showing.

“No one will talk to me anymore,” she whispered. “Except you. The sheriff thinks I’m a suspect .” She shook her head. “And you know what my dad will say? ‘Pray. Have faith.’ What does he know about faith.”

The vitriol in the last statement made Sam purse his lips. The fight from before came to his mind, and he flicked his eyes back to the window, then to her. “I heard you guys fighting before.”

“He’s seeing a woman,” she bit out. “A married woman.”

Now that was unexpected.

“I just found out,” Lori said. Her voice turned wet, tears glinting in her brown orbs. “She comes to our church with her husband. I know her kids. And he talks to me about religion, about morality?” 

She took a shaky breath, then went on. “It’s like on one hand, you know, just do what you want and be happy, but he taught me-- raised me to believe that if you do something wrong, you will get punished.”

Sam’s brows puckered in sympathy, and he rubbed her arm in a soothing manner.

“I just don’t know what to think anymore.”

They stayed silent for a moment, Lori trying to compose herself and Sam pondering over all that was said. The next moment, she was leaning up and hugging him, burying her face in his neck. Instinctively, he reached around her, awkwardly patting her back.

He hadn’t been hugged by a woman since . . . and it felt really, really nice. Lori’s hair smelled like apricots, and her breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine. Her chest was soft, warm. It sent a terrible pang of loss through him, a reminder of all he had had with Jess.

He held Lori like he had Jess, like she was precious and delicate. A beautiful being that needed to be held softly. She melted into him, bringing her hands up to cup his cheek and the other resting in his brown hair. She pulled back, just enough so that their eyes met, hazel to chestnut. He kept a steady hand on her shoulder, the other dipping down to her waist.

Her breath smelled like peppermint. Would her lips taste the same?

She broke the tension, lips brushing his in quiet askance. He reciprocated, pressing more firmly against her, and she tilted her head to go deeper, explore further. His hand came up without his knowledge, brushing past her jaw and weaving through those caramel strands, his thumb caressing her cheek.

It wasn’t the same. Lori wasn’t Jess, and it hurt all the more when he realized he had led them both on.

He broke away, abruptly shifting the distance between them. Lori, looking the slightest bit disheveled, asked, “Sam?” Her eyes sparkled, confusion creating lines on her forehead.

“Lori,” his voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Biting her lip, Lori sat back on her heels. “Your girlfriend?”

He just looked away, Jess’s memory still fresh in his mind, the pain still biting and raw.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his knee. She lost her boyfriend, too.

Maybe they were just lost souls who came together to make things easier. But this . . . Sam knew that this was wrong. Jess, and Lori, didn’t deserve that.

“Lori,” the reverend’s commanding tone spoke from the back door. Sam’s head whipped to the man, but Lori just sighed and turned around. “Come inside, please.”

“I’ll come in when I’m ready!” Lori shot back defensively, the hand on Sam’s knee tightening.

Her father’s face twisted into a scowl, mainly directed at Sam. 

That scowl shifted to one of pain and terror when a silver, gleaming hook planted itself in his shoulder.

The Hookman grinned, dragging the reverend screaming back inside the house. The door slammed shut behind them.

Lori sat, frozen in place at what had happened, eyes widened in panic.

Sam didn’t hesitate. Reaching through his bag, he grabbed the shotgun filled with salt rounds. He was prepared for something like this happening, he just didn’t expect the reverend to be harmed.

He ran for the door, relieved that it wasn’t locked tight. Bursting into the house, Sam raced to find the reverend.

It helped that the man’s screams and pleads were able to draw him to the source.

He crashed through a door at the top of the stairs, gun at the ready. The reverend held his hands up defensively, and a flash of silver above him began to fall.

Sam shot twice, one round splintering the wooden chair in the corner and the other shattering the window. The Hookman disappeared in a curl of smoke.

“Dad!” Lori shouted, footsteps banging up the stairs. “Dad!”

The man coughed, in obvious pain, but Sam didn’t go to him in case the ghost returned. Lori pushed past him and to her father, kneeling at his side and sobbing.

“Okay. Okay, dad, it’s okay,” she said. Her hands fluttered about, unsure of what to do. The shoulder wound was bleeding heavily, and Sam knew they’d have to call an ambulance. Blood dribbled from the man’s lips, and Lori was near hysteric.

Why? Why did this happen? If the reverend was controlling the Hookman, why did it attack him?

Chapter Text

Dean returned to the car, looking exhausted but no less pleased at a job well done. Ben perked up at the sight of him, grateful he was back. The silence that had overtaken the Hargreeves brothers was stifling, but Ben refused to talk about his feelings right now.

They didn’t really talk about stuff like that, even if Klaus was more open to listening. Hypocrite.

That, and Klaus was nervous enough being so close to a graveyard, even if the car was parked down the block. 

Dean had taken all night to find the unmarked grave. Ben was surprised he found it at all. The man looked happy, though, so Ben guessed that it usually took way longer to find unmarked graves. The sun was starting to peak over the trees and birds began to sing. Klaus hadn’t slept a wink, mostly because the hauntings of his mind were overlapping the ghostly howls that flooded the night. He relaxed significantly as morning came, even more so when he spotted Dean coming around the bend.

Dean drummed his hands along the roof of the car to announce his presence, then slipped into the front seat. “It’s done! Hookman is no longer a problem.”

Klaus, next to Ben, wilted into his seat with a sigh of relief. “Great! Now I can leave the car without you worrywarts getting your panties in a twist.”

“Worrywart?” Ben asked. “As if. I would just miss our daily banter.”

“Yes, it must be so boring without me.”

“Damn straight.”

“Anything but!” Klaus sang.

Dean’s phone rang. Ben and Klaus shut up long enough for him to take the call.

“Sammy!” Dean stopped, Sam saying something over his greeting. Dean’s smile slipped away, replaced with grim determination. He dropped the phone and started the car, peeling away.

Klaus, tossed about in the back, shouted. “Hey! Dean, what--?”

“He’s not gone,” Dean growled. “Hookman. It didn’t work. He hurt Lori’s dad. Sam’s at the hospital.”

Fear lanced through Klaus’s features, and Ben asked quickly, “Is Sam okay?”

“Sam’s fine,” Dean said, after Klaus translated. “He’s keeping an eye on Lori and her dad, making sure he gets through the surgery.”

Klaus looked sick, and Ben hoped he didn’t puke in the back. Dean would never forgive him.

“H-He’s still out there?” Klaus asked. 

Ben reached out and took Klaus’s hand. Ever since they had discovered he could interact with the real world by using Klaus like a battery, Ben had been taking advantage. It only worked sometimes, though. Ben had to practice as much as Klaus.

Klaus gave him a grateful smile.

“We’ll get him, Klaus,” Dean reassured. “Sam and I are gonna make sure no one else gets hurt by this guy. Right?”

“Right. And I can help, too.”

Dean seemed apprehensive, but nodded. “Alright. But you stick close to me and Sam. This ghost is after you, too.”

“I will,” Klaus said. Ben knew he didn’t want to stray too far from the older hunters, anyway. Even if there was only a ten year gap between him and Dean, Klaus still looked up to the man and trusted him with his life.

Klaus also knew the risks, but Ben had a feeling that he was still trying to gain the Winchesters’ approval. So far this trip, Klaus hadn’t been as helpful as they both knew he could be. It didn’t bother Ben at all, as he was mostly just worried if his brother would come out the other side alive, but he knew--he knew --that Klaus was taking it hard, that their father’s ugly words kept circling through Klaus’s already scarred mind.

Klaus was pushing himself to be better, to prove himself to the older brothers. He was already doing so well, in Ben’s eyes, but Klaus wanted to be better than good. He wanted to be the best, so that things wouldn’t fall apart. So that he would be needed .

Ben knew the feeling. He just hoped that when the inevitable happened, that he wouldn’t be driven straight into the numbing effect of drugs.

They made it to the hospital in record time, Dean hardly parking before he barged into the facility. Klaus was steady at his side, long, knobby kneed legs keeping good time with the taller hunter. Ben floated at Klaus’s side, not even pretending to walk in their haste.

They met Sam outside of one of the rooms, the tallest man pacing in front of a large window. Past his broad shoulders, they could see Lori and her father, the man wrapped in bandages and asleep, heart monitor beeping at a steady rhythm. Lori looked shaken, her hand gripping her father’s tightly, and tear tracks staining her cheeks.

Police littered the hospital. They just about stopped the brothers from getting through, but Sam called out that it was alright, they were with him. Reluctantly, the police let them through, though not without suspicious glances.

“What happened?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged helplessly. “We were just talking. Then Lori’s dad came out . . . and he appeared.”

He explained what the man looked like, and beside Ben, Klaus gave a full body shiver.

“Yeah,” Klaus gripped his jacket over where the Hookman had attacked. The fabric was still torn, but Klaus didn’t have anything else. “Yeah, that’s him alright.”

Dean placed a hand on Klaus’s shoulder to steady him. Klaus took a deep sigh, and focused back to the present.

“What did the police say about it?” Dean asked.

“I told them that I had no idea who the man was, but that the reverend had been attacked,” Sam reported. “I didn’t mention that he was a ghost.”

Dean nodded. “Good. No need to frighten the public.”

Sam snorted, and Klaus grinned.

“So, how are we going to figure out who the big bad is?” Klaus asked. “I mean, it’s obviously the ghost, but who’s in charge?”

“Not the reverend,” Sam grunted. “Is there anything you can glean, Klaus?”

Klaus squared his shoulders and said, “I’d need to get closer.” Sam waved a hand for him to go inside, and Klaus marched into the room with purpose. Ben followed as a silent supporter. Behind them, Sam and Dean got into an argument over why Dean didn’t torch the bones.

As Klaus got closer to Lori, he softened his expression and put on a relaxed air. Lori predictably relaxed in his presence.

“You’re Sam’s little brother,” Lori said. “Right?”

Klaus visibly straightened, and Ben smirked. “That’s me alright,” Klaus smiled lazily, but his eyes were sharp. They locked on Lori’s chest, and Ben just about smacked his brother upside the head.

The only thing stopping him was the look Klaus’s face made when he did. Something flashed by, too quickly to really notice, but enough that Ben caught it. Ben knew all of Klaus’s ticks by this point. Klaus noticed something peculiar. Ben looked to Lori’s chest as well.

There wasn’t much to really note. Her breasts were big, and she wore a tight fitting shirt under a plaid overshirt. Her jacket was rumpled and wide open, one sleeve falling off her shoulder. In the center of her chest sat a silver chain necklace.

The necklace wasn’t much, just a simple chain holding a cross looking thing. Actually, the longer Ben looked at it, the more he thought it looked like an ankh, the Egyptian symbol of life. He narrowed his eyes at it. The top loop wasn’t closed all the way.

“So, Lori,” Klaus flicked a tassel into the air to get her attention again. “Where’d you get that fabulous necklace?”

“It, uh,” she mindlessly grabbed her necklace, fingering it between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a church heirloom. My father gave it to me when I started college.”

Klaus nodded. “And is it real silver, dear?”

She blinked at him. “Yeah. It is. How did you know?”

“Last question: Was it originally something else?”

She furrowed her brows. “Um, I think so. Why do you ask?”

He waved a hand. “No reason! Thanks for letting me know!” He whipped back around and chasséd back to the others, leaving a confused Lori behind.

“I think it’s Lori controlling the Hookman,” Sam was saying when they came back. “She mentioned that her dad was seeing a married woman, and how she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you should be punished.”

“So the Hookman was feeding off her repressed emotions about why her close ones weren’t being punished for their wrongdoings,” Dean summed up. “But then, why didn’t salting and burning the bones work? I dowsed it, dude, I made sure that those bones were thoroughly coated in salt and gasoline. I burned everything in there. So why is he still around?”

Klaus, the dramatic bitch that he was, said then, with a flourish, “I think I can help here!”

Sam and Dean turned to him expectantly, hope in their gazes. Klaus ate it up, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“Just tell them whatever you got, idiot.”

“Hush, Ben, I’m needed. I want to enjoy the feeling.” Klaus drew himself up, so that he was nearly the same height as Dean. 

Klaus had always been the lanky one in the family, all skinny frame and long legs like a colt. He used to totter around the house slouched over so the others weren’t having to look up to speak to him. The only one taller than him was Luther, who used his height to his advantage. 

Ben shook himself out of his memories when Klaus began speaking.

“It’s her necklace. It’s real silver.”

“Her necklace?”

It didn’t take long to put two and two together. Ben was rather impressed at Sam’s intelligence. He wondered what kind of conversations he could have with him. Hell, add Five to the mix and it would be a party.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Do you think the Hookman’s hook was melted down and made into a necklace?”

Klaus nodded. “I know it was. When I went in there and really got a good look at it, I felt a dangerous aura around it. It was similar to the aura I felt when Hookman appeared. She called it a church heirloom, which means it’s been around for a long time.”

Dean ran a hand down his face. “Okay. So. The hook became a necklace, which was passed down through the years, and now belongs to Lori. Matches with all the unexplainable murders from all those previous reverends.”

“Question is,” Sam went off of where Dean left off, “How are we gonna get it from her?”

“I mean, we could just tell her that a ghost is haunting her necklace,” Klaus shrugged. “If she needs proof that ghosts are real, I can summon Benny.”

“Just don’t give her a heart attack, please,” Ben said.

“Alright.” Dean nodded. “Alright. You talk to Lori with Sam. Get the necklace from her. I’ll go to the chapel and gather any remaining silver, just in case they put some of the hook in anything else.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Sam agreed, slapping his brother’s shoulder. Dean took off for the chapel.

“Right, okay, how are we gonna do this without sounding totally creepy?” Klaus asked.

“I’ll, uh . . .” Sam coughed. “I’ll talk to her first. Get her alone.”

“. . . Okay, already you’re sounding creepy.”

Sam frowned. “Just go into that closet over there.”

“But Sam , I’ve been out of the closet since I was twelve.”

Sam didn’t get the joke, making a confused puppy face. Ben took pity. “Come on, Klaus. Let’s leave him to it.”

Ben dragged a snickering Klaus away and into the nearest closet that wasn’t locked. He propped the door open just enough that Sam would be able to tell it was them, without a passing doctor noticing anything strange.

A few moments later, Sam opened the door and led Lori inside. “Sam? What’s--”

She stopped when she saw Klaus already inside. He waved, giving her a pleasant smile.

“Why is your brother in here?” she asked, wary to go inside.

“I promise it’s not for anything weird,” Klaus started. Ben sighed. “Look, we just want the killings to stop.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh . . .” She shuffled into the closet, and Sam closed the door behind her. “How? Do you . . . I mean, I think I know what’s behind the killings. Do you guys also think it’s an avenging angel? One sent to punish those that deserve it?”

“Trust me, Lori, that guy isn’t an angel,” Sam stated firmly.

Lori bit her lip. “I just . . .” She sniffled, and Ben caught sight of a tear that she quickly wiped away. “I feel like all of this is my fault. I feel like someone was sent to punish them, because I felt like they should have been punished. Now I realize . . . I’m the one that should be punished.”

Klaus shook his head, reaching out a hand to place on her elbow. “No, Lori, that’s not true. Not at all. This guy . . . this ghost, he’s hurting people, and it’s evil.”

“Ghost? What do you mean--?”

Ben saw him shudder, then lock eyes with Sam. “Sam, we need to get her out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“ Sam ,” Klaus moved for the door. “Now!”

A silver hook embedded itself into the door, inches from Klaus’s face. He yelped and leaned away from it. Lori screamed.

“Vents,” Sam said. “Escape through the vents. I’ll keep him busy until you guys are in the clear.”

“I’ll help,” Ben said, drawing energy from Klaus. Klaus nodded and ran for the ventilation. Lori’s eyes were huge, staring right at Ben with fear. He gave her a small smile and a shy wave.

The door was hit again, a larger chunk taken out of the wood. The Hookman’s twisted smile peeked through. Sam lifted an iron pipe, his bag discarded on the floor, and jabbed it through the opening. The ghost disappeared with a howl.

They had maybe a few seconds--a minute tops--until it came back. Ben released the Horror.

Behind him, he heard a clanking and knew Klaus had managed to take off the vent grille. He heard Klaus urge Lori into the vents first, and Ben smiled with pride. Always one to think of others first.

“Keep guard over the vent,” Sam whispered to him. “The ghost can go anywhere he wants, but I’ll salt it anyway, so hopefully he won’t be able to get into there until they get out.”

Ben nodded along, setting up his position. Sam salted the vent opening once Klaus and Lori were through. “Lead her to the church!” Ben reminded.

“Yeah, yeah!” Klaus called back. Ben grinned.

The door shattered. The Hookman stepped through the remains, hook held aloft. Sam readied his pipe. Ben’s tentacled friend eagerly wiggled around.

Sam attacked first, pipe swinging towards the man’s face. The hook came up to block the strike, metal ringing against metal with a squeal. Sam grit his teeth, shifting his weight to bring it back around, only to have to dodge when the hook got too close.

When the Hookman moved near Ben, a tentacle whipped around and slapped the man back. Ben wasn’t used to defense, his usual job meant to be the tank, but he could get used to it.

Policemen thundered down the hall, guns raised. “Freeze!”

Ben winced. Oh boy.

“I said freeze!” One got closer.

“Stay back!” Sam called to them, too late. The Hookman didn’t spare them a glance. The one who got too close got sliced through the neck.

The man flopped on the ground, blood spurting from his grievous wound. 

Ben looked away. He hated the sight of blood. Or the sight of anything too gory, really. It kept him up at night, when he was younger and had to use the Horror until he dissociated. 

The Horror, though, became all the more enthusiastic at being out. He had to keep them from tearing into the rest of the policemen, glad that he was dead and couldn’t feel them squirm around and fight him against this. 

Funny how his control became almost second nature after death.

The policemen, spooked, started to fire. Sam ducked behind a shelf, crying out when a bullet grazed his arm. The bullets passed through the Hookman and Ben harmlessly.

“We need backup!” a police officer called into his radio.

Ben grabbed the Hookman with his tentacles, who were all too happy to try tearing into the ghost. The Hookman wasn’t affected in the least by the frenzied mess and disappeared.

He didn’t reappear.

Ben was really starting to hate how slippery this ghost was.

“We need to go after Klaus and Lori,” Sam gasped, holding a hand to his bleeding arm.

Ben faded, keeping Klaus’s energy in mind. Though Sam wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, he knew he was there.

“Wait!” a cop called. Sam did not wait. Sam grabbed his bag and ran out of the closet and down the way that Klaus and Lori had hopefully gone.

On their way, Ben spotted an open grate. Klaus was out of the vents. Ben prayed that Klaus could keep him and Lori alive until they got to them.

Klaus was running barefoot through a parking lot in broad daylight. Was this smart? Absolutely not. He had left his shoes in the car, which was now with Dean at the chapel, so he had to live with it. Didn’t mean his feet liked being burned alive.

Lori kept a steady pace at his side, despite being just a tad shorter than him. “Who is that? He’s the one hurting everyone, right?”

Klaus nodded, though she probably couldn’t tell. “Yep! Turns out you have a ghost attached to you.”

“Why? Why me?” she asked. “Is it because I’ve done wrong?”

“No, it’s your necklace,” Klaus explained through heavy breaths. Could they talk about this later, when they weren’t running for their lives? “It was originally a hook that helped in killing a lot of people.”

She paled, and Klaus hoped it was from the news and not from their run. They couldn’t stop. “So . . . I’ve been wearing a murder weapon?”

“Basically.”

“So, how do we get him to stop?”

“Uh, good question,” Klaus chuckled, hint of hysteria in his tone. “I’m pretty sure we gotta melt it down and destroy it?”

“How are we gonna manage that ?”

Before Klaus could reply, a curb suddenly got in his way. His feet stumbled, the ground coming up to meet him. All he could think was “ oh crap ”.

There was a sound above him, reminiscent of one of Luther’s swings, and Lori screamed fearfully.

Klaus landed on his hands, wincing when they got all scraped. He whipped his head up, only to see black, black, black , and a crooked, yellow grin.

The Hookman sliced his arm down in a flash, and Klaus barely had enough time to roll out of the way before it hit him square in the chest. The silver hook cracked the pavement where he had been.

He scrambled to his feet and grabbed Lori’s hand, tugging her away from a lethal shot the ghost took at her. She stumbled along after.

“Where’s Sam?”

“I don’t know,” Klaus responded, heart beating wildly. “Just get to the church! Whatever happens, you have to get that necklace to Dean!”

He assumed that she agreed with him, since she upped her pace, but he honestly didn’t have enough time to worry about her.

“Klaus!” The shout from Ben was unexpected, and it startled him.

Klaus looked behind, just in time to see silver streaking towards Lori’s back. Klaus acted on instinct. He whipped his arm out to knock the blow off the mark, making contact with something hard. There was a flash of blue.

Breathing heavily, Klaus flicked back and forth between the arm that he held in a vice-like grip and the yellowed smile that slowly fell. The Hookman jerked his arm, but Klaus held on like he was the strongest person in the world. Like he was Luther.

His arms glowed brightly.

He had no idea how he was doing this.

The ghost reached around with his other hand and wrapped his hand around Klaus’s throat. The familiar fear that came with hands reaching for him and unwanted touch caused the bright glow to dim, and Klaus wheezed for air as he was lifted from the ground.

The yellow grin returned.

There was a gunshot.

Klaus couldn’t breathe.

He fell to the ground unceremoniously.

And then Ben was there. Ben, who always made everything better. Ben, who never left his side, who was always there for him. Ben, who took his elbow and hefted him up.

“Klaus,” Ben breathed. “How did you hold him like that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you okay?”

“. . . I don’t know.”

A black car rolled up beside them, and the window rolled down. “Get in!” Dean shouted. Lori was already situated in the back.

The boys scurried in beside the woman while Sam took the front. Dean whipped the car around and left dust in their wake.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Ben asked.

Klaus shook his head, but he kept staring at his hands. Ben wasn’t sure if he had heard him.

The car shook, and Klaus and Lori had to brace themselves against the doors as the wheels left the road. They slammed back down with a shriek of tires.

“Dammit!” Dean jerked the wheel and they skidded across asphalt. They came to a stop when the right tires hit the curb.

The Hookman emerged from the shadows and stalked toward the car.

Dean shifted gears. “Not today, you son of a bitch.” He drove straight into the Hookman.

There was a crunch, and the ghost vanished. Dean kept driving.

They pulled up to the church and Dean leaned back. “Lori, necklace?”

She nodded shakily and handed it to him, and he lurched from the car and into the chapel.

“Come on,” Sam said, stepping out as well. “Stay close.”

Lori glued herself to Sam’s side, gripping his sleeve. Ben pursed his lips, hoping the gun wound from earlier was alright. Sam acted like nothing was wrong, because of course he did. Ben was with a bunch of idiots.

Sam herded the group inside, Ben taking the rear. Klaus shut the chapel doors behind them.

It was quiet. It set Ben’s ghost nerves on fire. The Horror shifted under his clothes, and They kept whispering things at him.

Kill.

Blood.

Meat.

Klaus.

Keep Klaus safe.

Klaus. Klaus. Klaus.

Unintentionally, Ben found his gaze lingering on his brother. Klaus was holding himself together, hands fisted into his black jacket. Idly, Ben thought that they should get him some new clothes, besides the dress. Klaus only had two pairs, and that was worrying to Ben. He knew his brother, knew that he liked to dress up and flaunt his stuff. Klaus needed more clothes.

Scraping along the pews drew his attention away. The Hookman sharpened his hook as he crept toward them, and upon closer inspection, Ben realized he was invisible to everyone but him and Klaus.

The hook retracted from the pews. The ghost surged forward, towards an unknowing Sam and Lori.

“Watch out!” Klaus shouted.

Sam didn’t hesitate. He shot out in front of him. The ghost reappeared at Lori’s shoulder.

“Behind you!”

Klaus tugged Lori away in the nick of time. Sam shot another round, destroying a really nice vase. The ghost vanished with a growl.

Before Sam could reload, the Hookman materialized in front of him and knocked it away. His hook flashed in an arc, but Ben was faster.

Lightning fast, the Horror was out and wrapped around the Hookman’s arm and chest. “I’m not letting you get away this time,” Ben said.

The Hookman struggled, but each time he tried to disappear on Ben, his tentacles would tighten further and keep him in place.

“Go Ben!” Klaus cheered.

And then, as though lit from within, a fire erupted that scorched through the Hookman. The Horror dropped him with a hiss, shaking themselves out from the phantom flames.

The hook melted first, the ghost staring at it like he couldn’t believe this could happen. His body was next, starting at the feet and rising until it reached his eyes. His eyes that glared darkly at Ben, promising revenge and violence and despair.

Ben stared right back. You don’t get to hurt my family, asshole. See you in hell.

A final burst of flames, and the Hookman was gone, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor. A tense silence followed, everyone looking to each other to make sure that that actually happened. Lori was ashen and held tightly to Sam, while Sam glanced around the room with sharp eyes.

Klaus was staring right at Ben, awe in his gaze.

The silence was only interrupted when Dean came crashing into the room from the basement, gun held aloft. “Everyone alright? It work?”

Sam gave him a thumbs up with his good arm, the other held tightly by Lori. Ben had the amusing thought that perhaps her white-knuckled grip was keeping him from bleeding out.

They needed a doctor.

Klaus laughed breathlessly and flopped down into a pew.

Later, in the Impala, Klaus leaned back into the soft leather and yawned. Having not slept the night before was taking a toll on him. He didn’t want to risk the nightmares, though.

Up front, Dean watched Sam and Lori through the rearview mirror. Sam was getting his bullet wound patched up and Lori was a silent comfort.

Klaus could see the romantic tension between the two, but he didn’t think it was a good match, personally. Dean, on the other hand, was all for it.

Speaking of Dean, the man had practically pushed Klaus into the back of the car to give the lovebirds time alone. Which, rude, Klaus could read a room, but then Dean had cleaned his hands and put on some bandages, and well . . . Klaus couldn’t really be mad after that.

He felt safe . He felt needed . Most of all, he was comforted by the fact that Dean had cared enough to take care of him post-fight.

It was nice.

It was weird.

He liked it.

It wasn't often that he could be doted on, after all. At least, by anyone other than Ben. It was considered a weakness at the Academy, to let others help you. Klaus craved the affection, though, even if it was wrong.

Just another addition to his long list of reasons why he was a screw up.

They had to talk to the police about what happened in the chapel, and the cops came to their own conclusions. Klaus thought it was funny that they assumed a new airborne drug had been released to create the illusion of a man disappearing and reappearing. They regaled Sam and Dean as heroes, but told them to leave as soon as possible, please and thank you.

Some people, really. So ungrateful.

But, as it was, Klaus was glad that they didn’t chalk it up to Sam, Dean, and him being mass murderers or something. That would really put a downer on this whole thing.

Klaus was just about to sink into dreamland when the passenger door squealed open. He sat up fully and rubbed his eyes as Sam sat in his usual place. The man said nothing, but based on the tension in his jaw, he wasn’t too happy about what he was doing.

“We could stay,” Dean said casually. “Hang out for another week.”

Sam just shook his head, staring out the window and keeping his eyes away from the mirror.

Dean sighed, turned the engine over, and put Iowa far behind them.

Chapter Text

After driving aimlessly for several hours, Dean finally said that they needed to stop at the nearest town so he could fix up Baby, and Ben demanded that Klaus shop for more clothes. Sam volunteered to go with Klaus and leave Dean to it (“Trust me,” he said to Klaus as they were dropped off at the nearest Goodwill. “It’s best to leave him be when he fixes the Impala. He likes to think when making her better.”).

So, here they were, inside a Goodwill and looking through hand-me-downs, and Klaus was loving the different outfits. The mix and match was his favorite part. Just what could he get away with before Sam finally said “no”?

Apparently a lot. Sam gave him free reign, saying “have fun” and sitting down in a chair to read the paper. Ben snickered, saying that Klaus would go wild, and he was absolutely correct. He wanted Sam to regret those words.

So far, though, each time he had presented himself in the most garish outfit he could find (the worst being a bright, neon green flannel shirt with purple, shiny skin-tight pants), Sam had just given him a weak smile and a thumbs up. He really wasn’t kidding.

Klaus stepped out of the changing room in a summer skirt and a pale yellow tank top that he actually kind of liked, wondering what Sam would say to it.

He did a little twirl in front of the man. “What do you think?”

Sam glanced up from the paper and smiled genuinely. “Looks good on you. The skirt really looks nice with your long legs.”

Klaus preened under the compliment, and he dramatically placed his hands over his cheeks. “Why thank you, darling, you really are the sweetest!”

Sam’s smile fell, and he put the paper aside. His eyes narrowed on something on Klaus, and Klaus titled his head. “Everything alright, Sam?”

“What is that?” Sam asked, pointing to Klaus’s arm. Klaus looked down at himself, but didn’t see anything wrong.

“The tattoo,” Ben said. “I think he’s asking about our tattoo.”

“Oh, this?” Klaus showed him more fully the umbrella carved into his wrist in black ink. “It’s a tattoo. We all have one. Well, except for Vanya. It was Reggie’s way of claiming us, though he said it was to help identify us to the public.” Klaus rolled his eyes.

Sam straightened in his seat, jaw clenched and eyes burning through Klaus’s wrist. 

Klaus shifted uncomfortably. “Um . . .”

“Who does that to their kid?” Sam interrupted. He turned his glare to Klaus, and the teen couldn’t help but wince at the intensity directed at him. Sam softened his gaze. “Sorry. It’s just . . . a parent shouldn’t force a tattoo on their child, especially when underage. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal and considered child abuse.”

“Yeah, well,” Klaus gripped his wrist and turned half his body away to shield it from view. “Welcome to my life. Reginald Hargreeves was an abusive bastard who taught his children to hate one another and kept them in line with fear and an iron fist.”

The anger surged again, but Sam took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. “Did you try all the outfits you wanted to?” he asked kindly. Klaus smiled, glad the man had changed the subject. 

Ben looked on with a bittersweet smile.

“There was one more, something that might look more ‘normal’ for a boy to wear,” Klaus stated. “That way you guys won’t be given a hard time out in public.”

“Klaus, you should wear whatever you want,” Sam said, sad puppy eyes taking over. Klaus shook his head.

“You’d be surprised by what people can do when someone is outside the box.”

He turned about, and just before he left, he shot behind him, “Besides, I think it’s a really sexy looking outfit.”

He left Sam looking confused while he went to change. He traded the skirt and tank top for a pair of tight, black skinny jeans with lace sides and hearts on the back pockets. The shirt was a pink crop top that would look good with the jacket Bobby had gotten him for Christmas. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he gave himself a wink and a little kiss. He looked hot .

“It’s a good look for you,” Ben said. “Definitely one of your more tamer outfits.”

Klaus beamed. “Danke! Won’t turn as many heads, but the jeans do make my ass look good.”

“You mean that flat-as-a-board rump you’ve got?”

Klaus shoved at Ben, the ghost snickering as he fell through the cheap door. He took a moment to admire himself in the mirror for a moment longer, then stripped back down to put on his old clothes. He had two new outfits that fit within their budget. He could work with this.

He exited the dressing room and headed back to Sam with the outfits he had. As he was leaving, a large man with a beard stopped him with a frown. Ben tensed at his side.

“Hey, son, you tryin’ on girly things?”

Klaus grinned. “Nope!” And he walked away before the man could say more. Girl, boy, it didn’t matter. Clothes were clothes. Society demanded what was gender specific.

He proudly showed off his bundle to Sam. “All good to go!”

Sam raised a brow with an amused smirk. “That all? You must have shown me a good twenty to thirty outfits.”

Klaus shrugged. “Yeah, but these were the only ones I actually liked.”

Sam laughed and stood up from his seat. “Well, while you were trying on everything in the store, I found a possible case.”

“Didn’t we just get off of one?” Klaus asked, though he was interested all the same.

“We did,” Sam agreed. “But this is kind of our job. Besides, if we don’t help, who will?”

Klaus hummed and skipped along to Sam’s long strides (man was huge . Totally unfair). “You make an excellent point. I suppose there’s never a dull day with you, huh?”

“Well, we do have some free time occasionally. But . . .”

Klaus pursed his lips. “Does the need to read through every paper you get and look through things online have to do with your dad? Are you looking for any evidence that he’s nearby?”

Sam sighed heavily, shoulders drooping. Nailed it in one. The whole drive here, Sam had been typing away at his computer, searching through morgue databases. When Klaus had asked, Sam had just said it was a distraction. “There’s nothing,” he said. “No John Doe in nearby morgues, no news about a strange man saving lives, not even a mention of a seedy guy in a motel.”

“Sounds like your dad doesn’t wanna be found,” Klaus said.

“That’s what Dean’s been saying.” Sam helped Klaus bag the clothes and pay for it, ignoring the strange looks. He headed for the door. “I know this is really affecting him the most. He may never say it, but he needs Dad. This is the longest he’s been without him, and he’s got a lot more on his plate than ever before. It’s hurting him.”

Klaus shrugged and ran a hand through his curls. “Well, I may not be in a place to say this, but Dean should let you, me, and Ben carry some of that weight and not rely on your dad so much. Then again, I don’t know what it’s like to have a healthy relationship with a dad, so . . .”

Sam smirked a small smile. “I wish he would, but he never will. Dean thinks it’s his job to hold everything up on his shoulders, whether it be his problems or mine, too. Hell, he’s probably wanting to shoulder yours and Ben’s as well.”

“So you want to find your dad so Dean can stay mentally healthy?”

Sam nodded. “Or, well, as healthy as he can get. That, and I want to find Dad for my own reasons, too.” His face took on a darker look. “Dad’s hunting the thing that killed Mom and Jess. I have to help him get revenge.”

Klaus frowned. “But . . . if it killed them, what’s to say it won’t kill you, too?”

“As if I’d let something like that get the best of me.”

“Well, yeah , but hypothetically, who’s to say that whatever-it-is isn’t super powerful, and could do you and your dad in easily?”

Sam stayed silent, but that was all the answer Klaus needed. Sam didn’t care if he lived or died while hunting this thing. Klaus bit his lip.

“You have to tell him that he matters. If he dies, it would matter,” Ben said.

Klaus nodded, thinking back to Ben’s funeral. Klaus may not completely understand how much it hurt to lose someone, but he did mourn Ben. He still does, whenever he can’t feel his warmth or when Ben says he misses feeling things or smelling things. Ben was an observer in a world that didn’t know he still existed. And it hurt, it really did, when Ben looked so sad when he missed something or someone.

So, Klaus gave Ben’s hand a small squeeze, then turned to the man.

“Sam,” Klaus said softly. “Do you think that your life doesn’t matter?”

Sam startled and turned back to Klaus. They came to a stop. Klaus wasn’t sure what expression Sam had on his face, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“Because you do matter, Sam,” Klaus reassured. “Trust me, I--”

“If I die avenging Jess, my life would at least amount to something.”

Klaus recoiled from the words, not expecting the harsh, blunt reply. The phrase was reminiscent of some of the things that Reginald used to say to him, and Klaus was sucked into a whirlwind of memories that he never wanted to touch again.

Keep a lookout, Number Four. As useless as you are, perhaps you can sacrifice yourself to save at least one of your teammates.

You are my greatest disappointment, Four. If only you could be of some use and act as a shield to the others.

Number Four, your life is useless and meaningless. Why not protect the others and rid us of such worthless time and effort?

It would be inconsequential if I were to lose you, Number Four.

Pointless.

Useless.

Meaningless.

Worthless.

Unimportant.

Klaus went quiet, not looking Sam’s way. “That’s not true . . .” Klaus whispered. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to. “That’s . . . that isn’t true.”

A hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up into worried hazel eyes. “Klaus?”

He shook his head and removed Sam’s hand from his shoulder. “You are worth more than that,” he bit out. He was more than a shield. He was a person. Right? 

He shoved all those memories and feelings deep, deep down and locked them away. He was not going to deal with this today.

“Let’s just get back to the motel,” he said, marching ahead.

Sam followed behind, confused and concerned. Ben walked close beside Klaus, reminding him that he was still there. Ben would never leave him.

Dean chuckled as he got back to the motel, waving around a wad of cash. Sammy, expectedly, rolled his eyes at him as he closed the door. Klaus tilted his head from where he sat on one of the beds.

“Did you seriously hustle at a bar?” Sam asked. Klaus’s eyes widened.

“What? It’s what we were raised to do,” Dean huffed. “Hunting doesn’t really pay . Gotta get cash somehow. Credit card scams can only get you so far.”

Ben materialized next to Klaus. “Hunting doesn’t pay? So it’s not a real job?”

Dean shrugged and shook his head. “It’s not like the government can consider it a real thing. They don’t believe in monsters. Hunters gotta make a living on their own. It’s why Bobby has a junkyard.”

“Huh,” Klaus said. “I honestly thought it was because he wanted the aesthetic.”

Ben smacked his arm.

“Rude.”

“So what did you get while you were out?” Dean sagged into the opposite bed, pocketing the bills. Klaus slumped further into the bed, where usually he would be eager to talk about his fashion.

“Klaus got two new outfits,” Ben filled in. “Sam found a hunt.”

“And Klaus is currently not speaking to me,” Sam pouted.

Klaus folded his arms and turned to glare at the wall. Dean frowned. “Why?”

 Before Sam could open his mouth to answer, Ben clenched his jaw and shook his head. A clear signal. Not with Klaus here . He placed a hand on Klaus’s knee. “Why don’t you change into one of your new outfits? I’m sure Dean wants to see them.”

Klaus bit his lip.

“Come on, it’s been forever since we’ve done a fashion show.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, but smiled wide. “ Fine . So bossy.”

Ben winked.

As soon as Klaus left to get changed, Ben turned to the Winchesters. “As you already know, our father was an abusive asshole. Sam discovered the tattoo on Klaus’s wrist that all of us share, except for Vanya. That triggered a response that already had him fragile. Please don’t push him any further today.” Ben’s eyes flicked to Sam at the last sentence, and Dean had to wonder just what happened between him and Sam to make Klaus so upset. 

Then the words registered and Dean sat up straight. “Wait, what? Tattoo?”

Ben nodded, lifting his jacket sleeve to show an umbrella inked into his wrist. “It was a mark of recognition, that we are members of the Umbrella Academy.”

“How old?” Dean asked, voice deceptively calm. His hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists, teeth gritted and muscles tensed.

“. . . We were twelve or thirteen, I think. Kind of hard to keep track of time when you’re dead,” Ben shrugged.

“Twelve--” Dean fumed.

Ben held up a hand. “Don’t misunderstand. When we were twelve, we started crime fighting. We thought we were the definition of power and strength. We were adults, in our minds. Klaus started heavy drugs. Luther and Allison were talking about getting married. Five wanted to go to college. Diego visited crime scenes.”

At Ben’s pause, Dean finally met his gaze. His eyes were dark, blank. 

“We didn’t know anything . After Five disappeared, we had a huge wake up call. I don’t know about the others, but Klaus’s anxiety was so bad you could practically taste it. My depression worsened until . . .” He trailed off, but gestured to himself. “You get the picture. We were suddenly human . We could be hurt. We could die . And then I died, and everyone just . . .”

He didn’t finish. Instead he took a breath and said with a sigh, “So, when Dad forced us to get tattoos, we were excited. We were part of a club. We wanted that. Or, at least, we thought we did.”

“He shouldn’t have forced that on you,” Dean grunted. “You were kids .”

“I know,” Ben agreed, voice soft. “I know.”

Dean was still upset by all of this information, but Klaus returned before he could say more.

“What do you think?” Klaus winked, showing off his crop top and jeans.

Dean hesitated, years of his father’s words shooting to the surface. He coughed and rubbed his neck. “Good! It’s good. The pink is nice.”

“Right?” Klaus beamed. “I thought that it was a nice compliment to my paleness.” He snorted. “The lace on the jeans was Ben’s idea.”

Ben smirked. “Only because I knew you’d want to show off.”

“Says the one that had earlier commented that I had ‘a flat rump’.”

“Hey, just because you don’t have curves doesn’t mean you can’t work it.”

Klaus struck a pose. “Exactly, darling.”

The two laughed, and Dean relaxed. Despite all that they had gone through, they had each other, and they had him and Sam, and they were happy. That’s all that really mattered now.

He might still want to kill Reginald Hargreeves, but he could settle for raising the man’s kids in his place.

“Hey, I didn’t get to see that one in the store,” Sam commented.

Klaus tensed, then forcibly relaxed again and put on a fake air of normalcy. “Why, that’s merely because we simply had to go. Couldn’t be late for my dramas, after all.” He gestured to the TV.

Dean threw Sam a Look, but Sam ignored it. He looked so damn sad , but there was a hint of hope there, too. Klaus was at least talking to him again.

“Hey, Sam?” Ben asked. Sam snapped his gaze to the ghost. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” He jerked his head towards the bathroom. Sam nodded, then stood to follow the ghost into the small room, leaving Klaus and Dean alone.

Ben closed the bathroom door quietly behind them, and Sam waited for him to start. Ben hunched his shoulders, and Sam instinctively did the same.

“Listen,” Ben said, whirling around. “I don’t want you talking like that about yourself ever again, got me?”

“What?”

“The whole ‘My life is worthless except when I’m about to sacrifice myself for others’ spiel. It’s not healthy, it’s not right , and it hurts Klaus the most when you say it.”

Sam felt as though he'd been struck. “Is that why he’s upset with me?”

“Yes!” Ben threw his hands in the air. “Dad used to say crap like that to him all the time. That he was useless and didn’t matter.”

Sam clenched his teeth. “It’s not true about him.” But . . .

Ben rolled his eyes. “Oh no. I’ve been with Klaus long enough to know that face . You think you don’t matter? That no one would care if you were gone? Well, take a good, long look at us. We’re your family. Dean, the big brother who cares so much that he would literally die for you. Klaus, the annoying little brother that wears his heart on his sleeve and trusts with his whole being. And me, the one who will punch you in the face if you don’t take me seriously about this. You’re loved, you dumb bitch. Accept it.”

The two stared at each other in silence. The drip drip drip of the leaky faucet was loud between them. Sam was gobsmacked. Ben was seething. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was angry or trying to tell him he loved him. “. . . What?”

Ben blinked. “I didn’t break you, did I?”

Shaking his head, Sam focused back in. “No, no. It’s, uh . . . I just wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’ll make sure to tell you more often, then.”

Sam scoffed, something warm curling in his chest. “Thank you, Ben. That . . . that would be really nice.”

When the two returned from their talk, Klaus was already relaxed on the bed and commenting on the show that was on, kicking his feet like a little kid. Dean had a content smile as he listened, but he perked up when Sam came back in.

“Hey. You good?”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I just needed a reminder.” He turned to Klaus, and with his trademark puppy eyes, he said, “I’m sorry for what I said, Klaus.”

Klaus raised a brow. “Oh? Do tell.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You’re right, he totally is the annoying little brother.” Ben snickered at his side.

“Hey!”

“I mean it, though,” Sam went on. “The apology. It was insensitive of me to say those words, and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Klaus hummed and stood up from the bed, coming over to stand in front of Sam with his arms crossed. Dean thought it was pretty funny that Sam had Klaus by several inches, and yet he looked cowed in the teen’s presence. “And?” Klaus asked.

“What?”

“ And ?” Klaus lengthened the word. “What else?”

“And . . .” Sam floundered. Ben elbowed his side, but Sam couldn’t read the ghost like he could Dean, and Ben just huffed a short laugh.

“He wants an apology for yourself,” Ben whispered, though it wasn’t really quiet. Klaus waited expectantly.

“I’m . . . sorry that I said that about myself?” Sam said, though it sounded more like a question.

Dean narrowed his eyes.

Klaus nodded, sighed, then said, “I suppose that’s a good start. Glad that Benny could knock some sense into you.” He patted Sam’s shoulder.

“Well, now that the chick flick moment is over,” Dean groaned, getting to his feet. “I heard there was a hunt?”

Sam lit up, pulling a newspaper from his back pocket. “So, get this. A construction worker, late twenties, dies in a hole in the ground. Coroner says he died of Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease. Otherwise known as Mad Cow Disease.”

“Like on Oprah?” Dean asked.

“You watch Oprah?” Sam drew his brows together.

Dean was thankfully saved from having to answer when Ben said, “Wait, did he show any signs beforehand? You don’t just suddenly die from this disease. It can take months, hell, years for it to kill someone. He would have caught wind of it long before he died.”