Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Klaus lazily traces a finger down Dave’s broad, strong back. He circles around the warm drops of yellow that dapple his skin from the glow of the fairy lights. It’s almost like Dave is his very first boyfriend, the way they’re lying here in his childhood bedroom. In some ways Dave is his first real relationship. In every way Dave is the first boyfriend to truly be good to him.

It should be weird that he’s thirty and they’re sleeping in a twin bed. But Dave knows why Klaus is currently still living in the house he grew up in. Knows why they’re all staying here together for the time being. It has to do with the briefcase that took them away from the front lines in the last possible moment, and an apocalypse that almost was but wasn’t. And the childhood Klaus often alluded to but never fully explained. Not until they came back to 2019.

Dave’s a champ for taking it all in stride. Maybe it’s because of the haphazard way Klaus fell into his life in the first place, but Dave has always accepted the very, very weird parts of him and his world. Even the ghosts, and Klaus’ resolution to start working harder on developing his powers. And the fact that he wanted to stay sober. And also the fact that Klaus wanted to introduce Dave to his brother who wasn’t strictly always corporeal.

Maybe it’s because civilian life was already so goddamn weird after the horrors of war.

“You know, they used to call my brother The Horror,” Klaus had said.

Superheroes and superpowers seemed just as strange as the mundane reality of waking up safe in your boyfriend’s bed.

“Is that the one who’s a ghost now?” Dave had asked.

“I’d love for you to meet him.”

It hasn’t all been mundane though. It’s actually been a real struggle to gain some semblance of control over the ghostly shrieking that’s followed him since that first time in the mausoleum. Klaus finds that some spirits give up easily and fade away, while others are more insistent. Some seem to sink sharp nails into the gray matter of his brain and refuse to be shaken off.

For the time being he’s just trying to block out those voices.

Like that of the man whose constant anger would exhaust Klaus if he allowed himself to listen to it. Klaus thinks he’s a casualty of a mission, that he met his end while Klaus and his siblings were running around in masks somewhere. The guy could have fair points for all he knows, but the rage is just too obnoxious, too overwhelming. That kind of shit can really get someone down, especially when they’re working on their sobriety. It’s tiring enough just trying to block it out.

All he wants is to focus on the simple pleasures of a lazy morning. And Dave’s glorious, muscular back. And maybe the prospect of a date with the waffle iron.

The man keeps yelling though, which is really starting to bring down his mood. It’s so unfair that Dave gets to sleep through it. Dave, who Klaus just wants to keep touching all day long. If he could only do it in peace.

Klaus grits his teeth, concentrates, and focuses all his energy on sending the ghost away. He’s not sure he can un-conjure ghosts, or where they would go to if he could do it, but he’s going to goddamn try.

Nothing happens, until suddenly something does. The man turns to blue energy that quickly disperses throughout the air. Then it’s quiet in the room. Blissfully, marvelously quiet. Dave stirs beside him, takes a deep breath in, and goes still again. The quiet holds.

Klaus lets out a surprised giggle. It… actually worked? He doesn’t know his own strength sometimes.

Then Dave opens his eyes and looks up at him. “Morning, gorgeous,” he says.

“Oh. Dave,” Klaus grins. “You won’t believe what I just did.”

“Can it wait until after coffee?”

Klaus’ smile falters. “Uh, I guess so. You want me to make you some?”

Dave closes his eyes again. “Nah, not yet. This bed is more comfortable than it looks.”

“Oh, okay.”

Klaus frowns. So Dave is acting a little weird this morning, but it’s still nice not to have to listen to any more angry shouting. Amazing, actually. Klaus settles back against the pillows and watches the rise and fall of Dave’s back. For some reason, he decides not to reach out and touch him.

Dave can feel that he’s lying in Klaus’ bed, can feel that Klaus is still lying beside him. But he can’t make his eyelids open and he can’t make himself turn over. He can’t move at all. He’s still breathing but… somehow it feels like it’s not him doing the breathing.

Sleep paralysis happens, he knows. It could be from PTSD. And yet he doesn’t feel paralyzed so much as—

His eyes pop open and suddenly he can see again. There’s the wall that he’s facing, where a much younger Klaus scribbled bits and pieces of his thoughts.

Then his body starts moving, seemingly of its own volition, rolling itself over to face in the other direction. It props itself up on an elbow and looks down at Klaus.

Klaus, who looks so peaceful, so sweet in his sleep. Dave wants to scream at him to help him, to figure out what the hell is going on with his body. But he can’t.

His mouth opens and his voice says, “wake up, Klaus.”

His finger pokes Klaus in the ribs, not very gently.

Klaus’ eyelids flutter open and he looks up at Dave. There’s a pinch to Klaus’ brow that says what’d you poke me for?, and yet his gaze remains so unguarded and open.

“I thought you were going to make coffee,” Dave’s voice demands.

Klaus winces ever so slightly. “You said you didn’t want any yet.”

“Well, I want some now.”

“Jeez, Dave, you’re being kinda cranky this morning, you know that?”

“Go make coffee.”

Klaus scowls and sits up in the bed. “Now listen here, Dave, you can’t order me around like I’m some nineteen fifties hausfrau. I don’t care what decade you were born in—”

“You’re right,” Dave’s voice says placatingly. His hand gently closes around Klaus’ wrist, thumbs over the veins. “Will you please make coffee?”

Dave sees Klaus soften a little. Not entirely, though. There’s still a wariness in the set of his shoulders. But he smiles and nods and drags himself out of the bed.

Dave’s body stays where it is, despite his willing it to move.

Chapter Text

After coffee, things seem to be back to normal. Dave is more himself, smiling easily and making pleasant conversation. Klaus feels warm towards him again, though deep down there’s still a kernel of anxiety twisting in his stomach.

Klaus knows every partner he’s ever been with has reached a breaking point with him. For some people it came after only a few days, for others it was weeks. Well, three weeks had been the very longest before Dave. But they all reached a point where sooner or later they got tired of his antics and his angst and his bullshit. Klaus knew when it happened because the way they responded to him suddenly began to change. They’d have less patience with him, they got irritated more easily. Eventually they always left. Or they got mean.

Dave’s been with him for over a year now and he hasn’t left.

Is he coming to his breaking point?

“Should we have some breakfast?” Dave asks. “I’ll make omelets if you wash the dishes.”

“Make one for Ben?”

“Is he joining us for breakfast?”

Klaus grins. “He will if you make him an omelet.”

Dave smiles back at him. “Consider it done.”

“Then the dishes shall be washed, mon amour.” He dips in an elaborate bow. “Eventually.”

Dave sets to work cracking and whisking eggs while Klaus sits down at the table and watches. Normally nothing would be more captivating than watching Dave hard at work cooking for him, but Klaus still can’t shake the niggling fear. Is Dave coming to his breaking point?

Ben appears beside him and Klaus acknowledges him with a wave, pours a cup of coffee and slides it over to him.

“You seem sullen,” Ben says.

“Just hungry,” Klaus shrugs. “Dave’s making us omelets.”

Ben tilts his head, looks at Klaus. “What’s the matter, Klaus?”

Klaus shoots him a look. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Ben nods.

They’re still getting used to it, the fact that Ben isn’t constantly around Klaus anymore. It’s been weird to have a sense of distance between them. But it’s beneficial, since it takes a lot out of both of them to practice keeping Ben corporeal for longer and longer amounts of time. When Ben spends some of his time in the spirit realm it seems to allow them both to charge up their batteries again. It also gives Klaus the chance to be alone with his boyfriend. He likes having Ben around, really he does, but he prefers fucking Dave when his brother is elsewhere.

“Omelets are up!” Dave says cheerfully, bringing three plates to the table.

Klaus concentrates and focuses his energy. Beside him, something about Ben seems to become more solid, more defined, as he sits in his chair at the table. He reaches forward to wrap his hands around his coffee cup.

“Hey, Dave,” Ben says. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Hey,” Dave smiles. “No problem.”

The conversation is pleasant enough as they eat their breakfast. Klaus almost forgets that anything was even out of the ordinary this morning. And then Dave excuses himself to get ready for the day. “Remember,” he says pointedly as he heads for the door. “Do the dishes.”

Klaus waves a hand as if he’s shooing away a fly. “Got it.”

Ben waits until Klaus lets his corporeal presence fizzle out. Then he turns to him. “Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“No… He just woke up kind of grumpy. Kind of… off.” Klaus feels a sudden urge to bite his fingernails. “Do you think he’s tired of me? Bored with me?”

“Don’t say that, Klaus.” Ben knows him so well. So excruciatingly well. “He's probably just having a bad day. He’s gonna stick around, don’t worry.”

“Why would he?” Klaus’ chest suddenly begins to feel tight. “Everyone else I’ve dated left.”

“No offense, Klaus, but you weren’t exactly dating the cream of the crop before.”

“Are you saying addicts and street kids aren’t good relationship material? Because that is definitely supporting my argument more than yours, Benny.”

“Stop it,” Ben tells him. “Dave’s not going anywhere. He loves you.”

Klaus sighs and pours himself another cup of coffee. “You always sound so sure of these things. I’m never sure of anything.”

“That’s because you’re a dumbass.”

“Well, thank you, Ben. That warms my heart.”

Ben sits with him while he sips his coffee. It’s nice to have Ben around while he’s feeling unsure of things.

Dave’s body is fresh from the shower, hair still damp, when it goes back down the stairs to the kitchen. By this point Dave has figured out that someone’s driving his body, someone other than himself. The thought is terrifying, though the fear feels different without the sensation of cold spreading in his belly. All he feels in his stomach is the omelet he was fed by whatever’s possessing him. And a certain thrill of excitement that he’s sure doesn’t belong to him.

In the kitchen he sees Klaus brooding over a mug. “You’re not doing the dishes,” his voice says. It sounds like an accusation.

Klaus waves his hand, just like he did before. “Oh, come on, Dave. I’m having some coffee and chit chat with my brother.”

“I told you to do something, Klaus.” Dave’s body walks over to the table, positioning itself so that it’s towering over Klaus.

“And I told you I’d do it.” Klaus frowns up at him. “Since when do you tell me what to do anyways?”

“Do it now.”

“No, I don’t think I will, Dave,” Klaus says. “You’re really acting like a prick.”

Crack

His palm stings.

Klaus rights himself and looks up at Dave. There’s a red handprint on the side of his face.

Jesus Christ, he hit him.

Dave’s body isn’t responding to the fact that he wants to cry, shout, hold Klaus, do something. He can only watch as Klaus sits there, processing what he did.

Klaus’ fingers slowly go to his cheek, feel at the mark Dave’s hand made on him. He sits staring up at Dave with his big green eyes, looking so shocked, so completely stunned.

Why doesn’t Klaus haul off and punch him back? Tell him to go fuck himself? Anything?

The shock in Klaus’ eyes is fading to something sadder, more jaded.

Why won’t Dave’s arms reach out and bundle him up like he wants them to?

“I told you to do something.”

Klaus doesn’t say another word. He just pushes himself up from the table and begins to gather the breakfast dishes.

Dave leaves once he starts washing the dishes. Klaus is grateful for that.

Ben is still there, though he hasn’t said anything yet. Klaus is grateful for that too.

He should have known the other shoe was going to drop. Just because he had jumped through time and space to get his boyfriend, just because he had been with Dave for so much longer than anyone else, didn’t mean the other shoe wasn’t going to drop.

“Klaus,” Ben says after a minute. “Dave fucking hit you.”

“Really? Are you sure? I wasn’t aware, Ben.”

“But what the hell.”

Klaus shrugs. He squirts dish soap on a plate and starts to scrub. “I should’ve done what he told me to do.”

“He’s never done that before, has he?”

“No.”

But everyone he’s ever dated has eventually reached their breaking point with him. They either leave… or they get mean.

“You seem way too okay with this.”

“I’m not okay with it. I’m just—” Another shrug. “Unsurprised.”

Ben is silent, as if he’s not sure what to say to Klaus. Then he settles for, “I’ll haunt him if he ever does it again.”

It’s not much of a promise. It’s kind of a tired line at this point, really. Ben’s never been able to do anything to get between Klaus and the other men who have hurt him. But the sentiment always makes Klaus feel a little better.

Chapter Text

He finds himself feeling relieved when Dave informs him he’s going out with some buddies later. He didn’t even know Dave had buddies in 2019. Maybe he doesn’t, maybe he just needs the break from Klaus.

Klaus doesn’t think too much about it. He’d rather see if Allison’s available to hang out.

She brings root beer and ice cream and about fifty different choices of nail polish.

“We could’ve gone out somewhere,” he tells her. “Live a little, get up to some mischief?” He flashes her a salacious grin, waggling his eyebrows.

“I know,” Allison shrugs. “But sometimes it’s nice to stay in too. And I’ve been dying to make root beer floats.”

Klaus smiles softly. He appreciates her looking out for his sobriety, and being willing to stay in with him on a Friday night. “Then let’s make floats!” he exclaims. “Pass me the ice cream and we’ll get this little party started.”

“Oh, no,” Allison says, snatching the carton back. “When we were kids you always put way too much in and made them overflow.”

“But that’s just how I like them!” Klaus protests. “You know, foam running down all over your hands—is it really summer if you’re not dripping in cream?”

“More like foam all over Dad’s rugs,” Allison laughs.

“Ah, yes, the old bastard didn’t care much for that, did he?”

Allison watches him, her smile fading a little before she turns it back on. “Forget Dad. You know what? You make the floats however you want.” She pushes the supplies in his direction. “Yours always tasted the best anyways.”

Klaus inclines his head in a gesture of thanks and takes up the ice cream scoop. “It’s so kind of you to say that, Allison, really it is. You just have no idea how that makes me feel.”

Allison just rolls her eyes and picks up the box of nail polish, carrying it over to the little table in his sitting area.

He opens the carton at the desk, plunks big scoops of ice cream into the cups before drizzling in the root beer. Foam rises up to the rims and he lowers his head, sucking all the foam into his mouth.

He refills them with more soda and then they look absolutely perfect, if he says so himself. And to think, they thought he was unteachable back at the Academy. He gives himself a mental pat on the back as he brings them over to the table.

“You weren’t slurping out of mine, were you?” Allison asks, eyeing the cups.

“I would never do such a thing.”

“Uh huh.” She laughs, like she doesn’t believe him but doesn’t really care, and pulls one of the cups towards her. “No overflow, I see.”

“I’ve perfected the technique.” Klaus watches her smile. They haven’t had a chance to hang out like this in a long time. It feels good to spend time with her, joking around about things that don’t matter. He can forget about the shit going on in his life for a while.

“What colors do you want?” she asks, opening her box. “Keep in mind, something besides black probably wouldn’t kill you.”

“Oh, hmm.” He pretends to think it over. “Have you got a nice darkened charcoal?”

Allison rolls her eyes. “Aaand we’re going with black again,” she says. “At least let me do some nail art or something. Please?”

“I will be your canvas, completely and utterly at your disposal.”

Allison laughs. “Good. Now that’s what I want to hear.”

Klaus puts his hand out on the table, waiting while Allison shakes the bottle. “So,” he begins conversationally. “Has the divorce been finalized yet?”

Allison looks up at him. “Right into it, huh? No, not yet, we’re still negotiating visitation.”

“Christ, that sounds like a nightmare. Patrick’s a prick, Ally. You’d be mother of the year if it were up to me, I promise.”

“Thank God it’s not,” Allison laughs. “But yeah, Patrick’s a prick.” She uncaps the bottle and begins to stroke black polish onto Klaus’ nails. “Too many men are.”

Klaus hums in agreement. She’s more correct than she knows. He’s currently ten for ten on that front.

“You know,” she says after a moment, “I’m glad you found Dave. He’s kind and gentle, and he really seems to get you.” A pause as she wipes an errant stroke from his cuticle. “It’s almost hard to believe something so good came out of that nightmare with Hazel and Cha-Cha.”

“Why thank you,” Klaus says. His other hand begins nervously twirling the spoon in his float. Dave had been kind and gentle, hadn’t he? But Klaus had used it all up, and now… now he’s seeing what’s left.

He can tell Ben is shooting him a pointed look from his spot in the corner of the room. Klaus glances at him, already knows what he’s thinking. He looks back down at his nails.

“No offense but I worried about you,” Allison continues. “I always have. Some of the things you say about the guys you’ve been with—”

“Aww, Allison, you didn’t have to worry about li'l ol’ me.”

“I’m your sister,” Allison shrugs. “And I know how easily people get into cycles of dating one asshole after another.”

“Oh.” Klaus’ chest begins to tighten. He knows she's right, but today it hits a little too close to home.

“You know what I mean? With some people, it just seems like every one of their partners turns out to be abusive.” She finishes Klaus’ GOODBYE hand and reaches for his HELLO hand. “And you start to wonder if they’re bringing it on themselves somehow. Like, there’s something about them or their personality that just begets terrible treatment, you know? And so they’ll never find anyone decent.”

Klaus winces. “Oh, um, I guess so,” he says. “Yeah.”

“That sounds kind of victim-blamey to me,” Ben interjects.

Klaus rolls a shoulder in a shrug, avoiding Ben’s eyes. It makes sense to him, as much as he doesn’t like it. He thinks that deep down he’d been halfway to that conclusion himself.

Allison doesn’t seem to notice how quiet he’s gone. “Do you want to do some glitter?” she asks. “I found some that I think will suit you.”

Klaus plasters on a smile. “Oh, yeah, baby, show me the goods.”

Allison opens the box and pulls out a tiny jar full of shiny grey hexagons. “They’re mostly transparent,” she says, “but they flash purple. I saw them and I thought they’d look amazing on black nails.”

“And then you realized that you know absolutely no one who wears black nail polish. What a tragedy, Allison, I truly feel for you.”

Allison humors him with a playful smile. “Hold still, okay? I have to put them on one at a time.”

“Oh, you think I ‘hold still,’ huh? Only in the very most dire of situations, I can assure you.” Klaus watches as she brushes clear polish onto his ring finger nail and begins to press tiny hexagons into it.

“I was worried about Vanya too,” Allison says, after concentrating for a minute. “She trusted Harold Jenkins way too easily. I was so afraid she was going to keep finding scumbags.”

“Helen’s quite the upgrade,” Klaus agrees.

“Now you’re both with amazing people and I don’t have to worry anymore.” She pauses, lets out a brittle laugh. “Or, well, I guess I can start worrying about my own love life.”

Klaus knows that Allison’s a good judge of character. She had seen immediately that there was something unseemly about Leonard. If she thinks Dave is amazing, then Klaus can trust that it’s true. Or at least that it was true. Dave had been amazing. Before he reached his breaking point.

He knows, then, that he’s the problem. And, really, he always has been. He can’t blame Dave, or any of the other people who got tired of putting up with him. It’s like Allison said, there must be something about him, something wrong. Something that can infect and poison even good men like Dave. She had seen it in Klaus, even though she thinks now that she’d been wrong.

“Anyways,” Allison says, pulling him from his thoughts. “You guys really deserve what you have now.”

Klaus forces a smile. “Thanks, Ally,” he says.

“You should tell her what he did,” Ben urges. “If she knew he hit you she’d be on your side, you know she would.”

Allison brushes another coat of clear polish over the glitter. “You’re all done! What do you think?” She picks up her float and points her spoon at him. “You better love it, because it took forever.”

Klaus holds his hand up, moves it back and forth to see the glitter catch the light. “It’s beautiful, Allison, and I’m not just saying that.”

“I’ll know if you are,” she teases.

He knocks back the rest of his float and begins to put together a color story for Allison’s nails. She watches with bemused interest as he selects screaming shades of orange, red, and lime green. He’s never been the best at giving flawless manicures, not with his unsteady hands, but he likes to think he makes up for it with vibrancy and vigor.

“Seriously, Klaus,” Ben says. “Just let her know what’s going on. Her heart’s in the right place. She wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Klaus shoots him a silent glare and turns back to his roster of nail polish.

“How’s Ben doing lately?” Allison asks, as if on cue.

“Oh, he’s great,” Klaus answers. “He’s a pain in my ass but, well, you can’t help but love the little phantom cephalopod. He hates it when I call him that.”

“Do you think you can manifest him? So I can say hi?”

Klaus sucks his lip between his teeth. If he does that then Ben will tell her about Dave. One glance in Ben’s direction and he can see on his face that he would. And he doesn’t want Allison to know, because he can’t stand the thought of her realizing he’s so much less than she thinks he is. He doesn’t want her to know that he drove someone as good as Dave to violence, that she’d been right to suspect there’s something wrong with him.

She would think—or rather, know—that he deserves to be treated that way. She would know that whatever happens to him is his fault, and it always has been. “Sorry,” he tells her. “We’re fresh out of juice today. But I know it’s been a while; we’ll have to make plans soon, okay? Brunch, maybe?”

Ben’s eyes narrow in annoyance. “That’s bullshit, Klaus, and you know it. Just manifest me so I can say hi to my sister.”

“Okay,” Allison says. “Brunch would be excellent. I know a great place.”

“Ben is going to be so excited,” Klaus sings, clapping his hands. “He’s never had a mimosa before. Can you imagine?”

“Oh, we definitely have to change that,” Allison laughs. “Virgin mimosas, though.”

“Klaus, you’re being an asshole,” Ben snaps.

“That’s just orange juice, Ally,” Klaus says, ignoring Ben. “He didn’t die violently before taking his first sip of OJ.”

“I promise I won’t say anything about Dave, okay? Klaus?”

Allison says something about seltzer water, and Klaus turns towards her so that his back is to Ben. It would be just like Ben to say he won’t tell her and then do it anyways. He’d probably blame it on some misguided notion that trying to protect Klaus is more important than keeping his word. But Klaus isn’t sure he even deserves protecting.

He knows he’s going to have to talk to Ben eventually, get this all smoothed out before Allison insists they keep their brunch date, but he just can’t deal with it right now. He isn’t ready to face what she’d think of him if she found out.

Then Ben makes a noise of frustration, grabs a cushion from the floor, and hurls it at them. It crashes right into the table, knocking everything on top of it onto the floor.

Allison screams as Klaus whirls around. “Ben!” he growls.

“Ben?”

“He, uh, he says hi,” Klaus says quickly, turning back to her. “He says he’s sorry he can’t come to the phone, but he wants you to know that he misses you too.”

Ben huffs. “I’m just trying to help you, you know.”

“Wow, okay,” Allison says, visibly trying to collect herself. “Hi, Ben! I didn’t need the heart attack but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You know ghosts, it’s always too much or too little when they try to make contact.” Klaus flaps his hands through the air as he talks, suddenly full of nervous energy. “I mean, just rattle some chains next time, right?”

Allison looks around the room, as if she’ll be able to see Ben if she can just find him. “Does he want to stay?”

“He doesn’t want to intrude on girl’s night but he says he can’t wait for brunch.”

Ben shoots him a withering look. “Have it your way, Klaus. I just wanted to help you.” He walks off towards the door and then disappears.

“Oh,” Allison says. “We’ll get those mimosas soon, Ben!”

Klaus giggles as he collects the cups and spoons from the floor. He picks up the cushion and then his heart sinks. “Allison, it appears that there’s been a casualty,” he tells her. “Your purple glitter didn’t make it.” He holds the empty jar out for her to see.

“That’s okay,” she says. “I can always get more. Wait, did your nails survive?”

Klaus fans out his fingers, inspecting Allison’s work. “Oh, yeah! They’re totally fine. Not the slightest nick.”

“That’s good, because the rug is a mess.”

Klaus looks down at the scatter of glitter covering the floor. “Ah, shit.” He tosses the cushion back onto the rug, hiding the worst of the mess. “There,” he shrugs. “That’s good enough for now. I’ll clean it up later.”

Allison laughs. “And we call Five the genius.”

Klaus sits back down and begins rearranging the polishes he picked out earlier. “Still want me to do yours, or have you had enough excitement for one night?”

Allison takes her seat, puts her hands on the table. “No way. I came here for a blinding manicure and I’m going to get it.”

Klaus grins as he unscrews a bottle.

Chapter Text

Dave gets in later that night, long after Allison has gone back to her own room with her Day Glo nails and her little box of supplies.

Klaus is sleeping, but he wakes up when Dave turns on another light. “Dave?” he says blearily. “Did you have a good time with your friends?”

“This room is a disaster,” Dave says. “Would it kill you to clean the place up a little?”

Klaus sighs and rolls over, putting his back to Dave. “Well, who knows. It just might. Why risk it?”

He can hear Dave moving about the room, picking things up off the floor and moving them to what are surely better places for them to be.

“Trip and break my neck in here,” Dave is muttering. There’s some shuffling, and one more light clicks on. Then, “Klaus.”

“Yes?”

“What’s this all over the floor?”

“Hmm?” Klaus rolls back over and opens his eyes. Dave is standing over the pile of glitter on the rug. “Oh.” He waves a hand. “Allison and I were doing nails. Spilled some glitter, didn’t have a vacuum handy at the time.”

“So you just left it there? And you put a pillow over it to hide it from me? Are you a child, Klaus?”

“Have you heard of arrested development?”

“You need to clean this up.”

“I will, Dave, but, you see, I’m actually trying to sleep right now.”

Dave crosses the room in a few long strides and suddenly his hands are fisted in Klaus’ hair, wrenching him out of the bed.

Klaus falls to the floor with a panicked yelp. His eyes are still rolling in his head as Dave reaches down to yank him up again.

“Don’t you dare argue with me,” Dave seethes, inches from Klaus’ face. He throws him up against the wall, eliciting a cry as Klaus’ head cracks against it. “Do you want me to beat you?” Dave demands.

Klaus slumps, trying to shrink back from Dave, but there’s nowhere he can go with his back pressed to the wall. “N-no,” he whimpers. He hates the way his voice sounds, shaky and full of fear. It feels so wrong to be afraid of Dave, to be scared the way he’s been scared of so many other men. It occurs to him distantly that if it were anyone else, this would be the point where he would cut his losses and pack his things.

God, his head is throbbing.

He could leave, but he knows the cycle would just repeat itself. He’d probably fall into bed with some asshole who’s even worse, who could never love him half as much as Dave.

Dave, who is holding him up by his arms, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “You have an awful lot of attitude, you know that?” His grip tightens until he’s practically shaking Klaus. “If you would do as I say I wouldn’t have to hurt you.”

Klaus cries out at the pain in his arms. He blinks up at Dave and feels hot tears roll down his cheeks. “I-I’ll do it,” he says weakly. “I’ll clean it up right now.” Suddenly he’s glad that Ben isn’t here, that he never has to know this even happened.

“Good.” Dave lets go of Klaus’ arms and lets him slide back down to his feet.

Klaus stumbles forward, catches himself before he can crumple to the floor. “I’m just gonna… find the vacuum,” he mumbles, and shuffles out of the room.

Dave’s body sits down on the bed to wait. He’s pretty sure Klaus has no idea where to find a vacuum cleaner in the house. Part of him hopes like hell he can produce one, while another part of him is praying Klaus walks out of the house and keeps on going until he’s far away from here.

At the same time, Dave is terrified that he actually might. That Klaus will decide he can’t take any more and he’ll leave—never mind that it’s his house—before they get this all figured out.

But the alternative is that he stays. He stays, and Dave keeps watching his own hands hurt his boyfriend.

More than anything he’s overwhelmed with the fear that he’s going to lose Klaus no matter what. That Klaus will break up with him and he’ll never find out that Dave’s been trapped as a passenger in his own body. Or that Dave will get his body back, and he’ll try to explain, try to apologize, but the damage will already be done. He’ll already have lost Klaus’ trust forever.

Klaus is so sensitive, so fragile. Dave’s been trying so hard to build up his confidence in himself. And they’d really been getting somewhere, as Klaus gained better control over his powers and his cravings alike. But now… he doesn’t know what this is going to do to Klaus, how badly it’s going to hurt him.

He can’t help but wonder if that’s somehow the aim here. Whatever’s gotten into the driver’s seat, it doesn’t seem all that interested in him. Except for how he can be used to hurt Klaus. To what end, Dave wishes he knew.

Amazingly, Klaus manages to scrounge up a vacuum cleaner. He drags it sheepishly back into the room, his head lowered, unnaturally quiet. Dave can see that there’s bruises already forming in rings around his arms.

“I’m glad I don’t have to beat you,” his voice says in greeting, sounding bored.

Klaus flashes him a placating little smile. He doesn’t say anything, which for Klaus is saying a lot.

Dave wills his body to cross the room, to bundle Klaus up and keep him safe. Instead he sits and watches as Klaus vacuums all the glitter from the rug.

Klaus winds the cord back up and turns to Dave. “Can I, um, can I just leave it in the hallway for now? Until morning?”

“I guess so. It is pretty late. Let’s just go to sleep.” Dave’s body heaves a yawn and lies back in the bed. Dave notices he’s not exactly leaving Klaus a lot of room on the mattress.

Klaus turns off some of the lights on his way to bed, slotting into place beside Dave so that they’re spooning. If he minds being crowded, he doesn’t mention it. If he’s uncomfortable lying beside Dave after what happened, he doesn’t show it. “Goodnight,” he whispers. “I love you.”

Dave’s hand slides possessively over Klaus’ waist, holding him tight. “Love you too, baby.” He presses a kiss to Klaus’ temple. “Isn’t it better when you do as I say?”

Klaus nods. Dave can feel beneath his hand that Klaus hasn’t fully allowed himself to relax.

Chapter Text

It’s jarring to see how normal Dave is acting with Diego around. They’re in the downstairs lounge, where they used to spend their meager free time as kids. Klaus is fiddling with a pencil, trying to think of something to draw, while he watches Dave and Diego play darts.

His sketchbook is already open to a clean page, but he can’t focus enough to put pencil to paper. It’s too unnerving to see Dave suddenly acting like his old self. As if nothing has changed over the past few days. As if there aren’t red and purple bruises circling Klaus’ arms beneath his shirtsleeves.

There’s a part of him that knows it’s because he listened to Dave last night. He backed down instead of pushing back, put his head down and did what Dave wanted him to do. It’s not easy to tamp down on the impulse to talk back, to force himself to do as he’s told. God knows he never had that talent as a kid. But somewhere along the way he finally learned that that’s always the best way to avoid trouble. It’s what he’s going to have to do now in order to stay with Dave. Klaus thinks he can manage that. He has to.

Still, it hurts to realize that he hasn’t seen Dave laugh like this for days. Klaus used to be able to make Dave laugh. Now he just seems to make Dave mad.

Ben appears and begins drifting towards him from the other end of the kitchen. Klaus catches his eye, closes the sketchbook and slides it onto the table. “Well, if you boys don’t mind,” he says, pushing himself up from the couch, “I think I’ll leave you to it and go have a bath.”

“Okay, babe,” Dave says, flashing him a smile. “I’ll be up in a minute.”

“No, no, no, don’t stop on account of me. You and Diego keep playing. See if you can set up a trick shot he can’t make.”

“You heard him,” Diego says, turning to Dave. “Show me what you got.”

Klaus heads up the stairs to the bathroom, with Ben now walking alongside him.

“Are we going to talk, Klaus?”

“You saw me get up and come this way,” Klaus says mildly. “So we’re talking.”

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t want Allison to know what’s going on.”

“Because Allison will think it’s my fault. You heard her yesterday. She’ll think I must have brought it on myself because I managed to bag the best man I’ve ever met and he still hit me.”

Ben looks like he can’t decide if he’s angry or sad. “Klaus, she didn’t mean that. I swear she won’t—”

“And she’s right. But I don’t want her to know that. She’d be disgusted with me.” Klaus avoids Ben’s gaze, concentrates on drawing the water for his bath. He knows Ben hates it when he gets down on himself, but even Ben has to admit that he’s only saying what’s true.

“You’re wrong, Klaus.”

Klaus ignores him as he begins shucking off his clothes, keeping his back turned towards Ben.

“You can’t just let this happen,” Ben continues. “He hit you.”

“Like I’ve never been smacked around by a guy before? Plenty of men have hit me. It’s not like you don’t know that, Ben.”

“You were never this okay with it! You would break things off and get out, remember that?”

“Well. It’s different now. I love Dave.”

“So you’re just— Klaus, what the hell is on your arms?”

“Oh…” Klaus spins around, suddenly facing Ben again, and tries to cover the bruises with his hands. “It’s nothing, just—”

Ben narrows his eyes at him. “What did Dave do to you?”

“He, uh, kind of shoved me a little bit. Well, threw me up against a wall, really. But I was being a bitch, you know, I was giving him a lot of attitude. It was completely my own fault, I promise it was.” Klaus turns away and climbs into the bathtub, sinking down into the hot water. When he chances another glance at Ben, the look on his face makes Klaus shrink back.

“Do you even hear yourself, Klaus?”

Klaus shrugs and fixes his gaze on the wall.

Ben shakes his head, lets out a humorless bark of laughter. “You’re just afraid Allison and I will gang up on you, aren’t you? That it’ll be two against one and you won’t be able to argue for staying with someone who’s hurting you.”

Klaus doesn’t like that Ben is angry—it feels too much like when Dave is angry. But Ben isn’t corporeal right now, so there’s nothing Ben can do to him if Klaus talks back. Barring another attempt at throwing something. “Now that you mention it,” he says flippantly, “you’re right, that does sound completely unpleasant.”

“Fine, Klaus,” Ben says. “If this is how you want it to be, then I won’t argue with you anymore.”

Klaus looks up and sees that Ben doesn’t seem so angry anymore. Instead he just looks tired, resigned. That’s much more comfortable for Klaus to deal with. “You won’t say anything to Allison at brunch?” he asks.

“Nope.”

“You promise?”

Ben heaves a sigh. “Promise.”

“Well, thank you.” Ben isn’t looking at him so Klaus doesn’t bother plastering on a fake smile. “Hey, I’ll talk to Allison about making the brunch plans then, okay? I’m assuming your schedule is pretty open?”

Ben doesn’t answer. He just turns around and floats through the bathroom door.

After his bath, when Klaus comes back to his room, he’s surprised to see Ben curled up in an armchair in the corner with a book. “I’m not gonna lie,” Klaus says, “I was anticipating more of a twenty-four hour cold shoulder situation. Or did you decide you wanted to yell at me some more?”

Ben shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about it. I just don’t want things to be awkward when we hang out with Allison. You know how she is about that kind of thing.”

“I do indeed,” Klaus says, nodding. “And she’ll hardly hesitate to offer her grain de sel.”

“I’m just gonna read though.”

“Do whatever your heart desires, mon frère.” Klaus drops his bath towel and pulls on a soft pair of pants. “I guess I’ll just…” He sits down heavily on the bed. “...Wait for Dave to come up.” He still feels the gnawing anxiety from earlier, the sense that he can’t get started on anything. But this time it’s because he’s nervous it’ll give Dave something to criticize him for later, no matter what it is. So he lays back and folds his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

He’s almost asleep when Dave comes into the room. “Hey, babe,” Dave says. “What’re you doing?”

Klaus opens his eyes. “Oh, nothing. Just relaxing a little I suppose.”

“You should get a hobby or something, so you’re not just laying around doing nothing all the time.”

Klaus winces.

“Don’t be like that,” Dave says. “I was just saying. Mind if I join you?”

Klaus shakes his head, and Dave climbs over him to settle into his spot against the wall. “Did you beat Diego at darts?” he asks.

“I was ready to beat him full stop by the time we agreed to call it quits.”

Klaus laughs, but it comes out a touch brittle, nervous. “Well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that,” he says.

“You smell good,” Dave says. He moves closer, nudges Klaus onto his belly so he can stroke his hand down Klaus’ back. “Different shampoo? I like this better than what you usually use.”

“Thanks,” Klaus says, even though he knows it’s the same shampoo he always uses. He turns his head so he can just barely see Ben sitting with his book. See? he wants to say, although Ben isn’t paying them any attention. Dave can still be nice. In fact, Dave’s hand is rubbing over his back in a way that’s so gentle, so relaxing, that Klaus can’t help letting out a contented sigh.

“Feel good, baby?” Dave murmurs.

“Yeah,” Klaus gasps, relishing the way Dave’s hand ghosts down his spine. He cringes at the note of surprise in his voice, aims for a sultrier tone. “That feels really good.”

That’s when Ben glances up at them. Klaus expects to see the playful expression that always says I’ll give you two some privacy, but instead Ben looks distrustful, suspicious. Klaus shoots him a frown and Ben turns back to his book.

Normally Ben would be long gone by now, all too happy to leave them to it, but it doesn’t look like he has any intention of moving. There’s something rigid to the set of his shoulders, like he’s on high alert despite keeping his eyes trained on the pages of his book. Klaus realizes then that Ben isn’t leaving because he doesn’t trust Dave to be alone with him.

In the past, Ben has always stayed with him through uncomfortable, less-than-consensual encounters. Sometimes they felt awkward afterwards, but it always helped in the moment for Klaus to know that Ben was there, that he wasn’t alone. He had always appreciated the gesture.

But this isn’t like that. This is Dave, who he loves, and if there’s violence between them lately then that’s just how it is now, and Ben is going to have to accept it. So he gives a breathy little moan as Dave continues to stroke his back. “Don’t stop,” he purrs, arching up to meet his hand. “Love when you touch me like that.”

Dave acquiesces, letting his fingers dance from Klaus’ ribcage to the ridge of his hipbone.

From his chair in the corner, Ben closes his book and pretends to gag.

Klaus gives him an innocent smile. He wiggles a little, inviting Dave’s touch, and moans again. Then suddenly Dave’s thumb and forefinger come together and he feels a sharp pinch on his skin. “Ow,” Klaus yelps, trying to twist away. “What—”

Dave breathes a soft “shh” into his hair, trails his fingers a few inches up Klaus’ side, and pinches him again.

Klaus’ eyes water. “Dave—”

Another pinch.

“That fucking hurts!”

Ben is watching them intently now, the book forgotten in his hands. “Klaus,” he says. “What the fuck. Tell him to stop.”

Klaus just stares back at him, silent, and gives the barest shake of his head. This is fine, he can deal with this. He’s more afraid of what Dave might do if he tries to tell him to stop.

Dave pinches his skin again, making Klaus cry out.

Klaus can’t think of anything he’s done recently to make Dave mad at him. Maybe there is no reason and Dave is hurting him just because. Just to see the bruises on his body. Just because Klaus deserves to be hurt. Shame wells up within him, making his chest ache.

Ben’s expression begins to change as he regards Klaus. Pity turns to disgust, the exact thing he had been wanting to avoid from Allison. But that’s okay, Klaus tells himself, because Ben has been disgusted with his choices so many times before. Ben always comes around eventually.

“You’re really going to let him treat you like this, huh?”

Dave is nuzzling the back of his neck now, with one leg hooked over him, pinning him in place. He presses kisses to his nape even as he continues to trail bruises up his back. Klaus flinches and whimpers with each one.

What choice does he have? What reason is there to stop Dave from doing whatever he wants to do? He knows he deserves it. He knows it’ll only be worse for him if he tries to argue. He looks at Ben and hopes he understands.

But Ben is shaking his head, looking frustrated and sad but mostly resigned. “I guess I’ll give you two some privacy,” he says, and then he’s gone.

Klaus is more upset than he ever thought he’d be to find himself alone in bed with Dave. A tear trails down his cheek, and then another. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He’s fine, he tells himself, everything is fine.

He almost doesn’t notice when Dave shifts so that he’s fully straddling him. “Gonna fuck you,” he whispers in Klaus’ ear.

Klaus stiffens. “Hey, hey,” he says, trying to push himself up with one hand, while the other wipes at the tears on his face. “Maybe not right now, okay? I’m not… I’m not really in the mood.”

“Sure seemed like it when you were moaning like a whore a second ago.”

“Well, that was before you started pinching me. Which I didn’t really like, for the record.”

Dave’s hands reach out to tightly clasp his wrists. “What did I tell you about talking back?”

Klaus swallows down an increasingly familiar rush of fear. “That you’ll beat me for it. But I—”

“That’s right. You’re mine, Klaus, aren’t you? If I want to hurt you, I will. And if I want to fuck you, and you try to tell me no, then I would consider that talking back, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

“I know you don’t want to be beaten, so I know you’re not going to tell me no, are you?”

Klaus sniffles and shakes his head. He holds still as Dave shoves his pants down his legs. He wishes he hadn’t been so quick to chase Ben off.

Chapter Text

Dave’s consciousness doesn’t go to sleep when his body does. He wishes it would, because being awake while his body sleeps is like being trapped in an oubliette. He can’t see, can’t move his limbs. Can’t stop replaying what he did to Klaus.

“Dave,” Klaus had whimpered. “Please, Dave, it-it hurts.”

He hates the way Klaus had sounded saying his name like that. Hates that Klaus believes Dave could actually be capable of doing that to him. But why shouldn’t he? It was Dave’s own body on top of him, Dave’s voice telling him how much he’s always wanted it like this.

Klaus has told Dave about some of the things that happened to him while he was homeless. While he was in prison, or in rehab, or living with whoever would tolerate him. Even some things that happened before he left home. Dave had always assured him it would never be like that with him, that Klaus would be safe and he’d always be able to say no.

He can’t imagine what Klaus must think now.

“Dave, if you're punishing me, I-I’m sorry for whatever I did,” Klaus had pleaded.

“You didn’t do anything, baby,” his voice had crooned back. He thought that it was supposed to be reassuring, comforting, but with Klaus crying beneath him it was nothing but creepy. “You’re being very good.”

“Then—” Klaus paused, choosing his words carefully. “Then let’s just slow down a little, okay? Just be a little bit more gentle. You wouldn’t mind that, right?”

“Shut up, Klaus,” he’d said. “You talk so goddamn much.”

“I’m sorry,” Klaus had mumbled, before falling silent.

It had been just pained little grunts and the occasional sob after that. Klaus was quiet, deadly quiet, even when Dave’s body finished and rolled off of him.

Dave’s fingers reached out to wipe the tears from Klaus’ cheeks. Klaus flinched.

Dave wanted so badly to hold Klaus in his arms, to protect him and comfort him. But when his arm did reach out to pull Klaus close, the fear that flashed in his eyes broke Dave’s heart.

With his own eyes closed, surrounded by darkness, Dave has been unable to do anything but fixate on that image in his mind for hours.

At some point Dave begins to feel his body stirring. His eyes finally open and suddenly he can see again. Late morning sunlight is filtering into the bedroom, illuminating the dust in the air. The bed is empty beside him. Dave wonders if Klaus just woke up early, or if he slipped away last night as soon as he was sure Dave was asleep.

His body levers itself out of bed and lumbers into the bathroom to piss. On its way out it calls, “Klaus?”

There’s no answer, so it goes downstairs to the kitchen. Klaus is there at the table, nursing a cup of coffee. “You didn’t make me a cup?” his voice snaps.

Klaus looks rough, like he hasn’t slept at all, but he straightens up at the sound of Dave’s voice. “Oh, hey!” he says, forcing a brittle smile. His voice is full of fake cheerfulness, though Dave hears the note of anxiety underneath. “I’ll, um, make you one right now. I’m sorry. Didn’t hear you get up.”

Dave’s body sits down in a chair and watches Klaus fuss with the French press. There’s a wariness in Klaus’ eyes, Dave notices, and a nervous hunch to his shoulders. He hates that he was responsible for doing that to Klaus, that Klaus can’t relax in his own home because he’s so afraid of him.

And he does feel responsible, even though it’s not really him, because it’s still his body and his voice and his relationship. It’s going to be his job to fix all the damage afterwards, provided he gets control back before the situation is beyond repair. And Dave has to believe that will happen, that there’s some sort of goal here that will be met and then Dave will get to be himself again. He just has to hope that Klaus can hang on until then, and that their relationship will still be salvageable by that point. Otherwise the fear of losing Klaus is too much.

Klaus hands a cup of coffee to Dave, who takes it without a word of thanks. “What’ve you been doing this morning?” his voice asks. There’s just a hint of an accusation to his tone.

“Oh, you know.” Klaus sounds like he knows he’s treading on thin ice. “Took a bath, talked to Allison, had some coffee.”

“What did you and Allison talk about?”

“We, uh, we’ve been wanting to plan a brunch date, just her and Ben and me. But she’s so busy, you know, what with her own family and everything, it’s hard to nail down plans sometimes. Think we got it all figured out though.”

“When were you going to tell me about these plans?”

“Right… now? We only just scheduled it. You were still in bed.”

Dave’s face twists into a scowl. “Will you be going out? Did you think you didn’t have to ask me first?”

“Um, no, I guess I didn’t think that. But it’s just my brother and sister, Dave. It’s a place downtown that she’s been to before.”

“What exactly were you thinking?”

“What was I thinking?” Klaus is so tired he can’t even properly glare at Dave. “What were you thinking last night when you- when you—”

“When I fucked my boyfriend?” Dave’s eyes narrow. “Like I have every right to do?”

Klaus’ face falls, and he must realize he’s come too close to talking back. “Nevermind,” he says quickly, “I didn’t mean it. I’m just tired.”

“No,” Dave’s voice says, “I think you did mean it. And I've had enough of your smart fucking mouth, Klaus.”

“I’m sorry,” Klaus says, putting his hands up placatingly, but Dave’s body has already lunged forward, his fist is already swinging through the air.

It hits Klaus in the eye, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Dave’s arms haul him back up again, and this time his fist smashes into Klaus’ nose. There’s a crunching sound and Klaus’ hands fly up to his face. “You’re always sorry,” Dave’s voice snarls, standing over him with one hand fisted in his shirt. “But you never learn. I’m tired of it.”

“I will, Dave, I’ll learn,” Klaus babbles, as blood streams from his nose. “I really will. I promise.”

Dave’s hand slams him down again, cracking Klaus’ head on the floor. “Shut up!” he shouts. “Always goddamn talking.” Dave can see Klaus’ eye already swelling to match the mess of his nose, but somehow he senses that the thing in his body isn’t satisfied yet. It seems to contemplate Klaus for a second, and then it starts kicking him in the side, over and over again.

Klaus curls himself into the fetal position, trying to shield his stomach from the blows, but he doesn’t try to get up, he doesn’t even try to get away. There’s the sound of a rib cracking, a strangled cry of pain, and still Klaus is just lying on the floor.

He’s letting it happen, Dave realizes suddenly. Why the fuck would Klaus just let this happen?

“Get up,” his voice snaps, sounding exasperated. “You look pathetic, cowering on the ground like that.”

Klaus drags himself onto his knees, moaning in pain as he struggles to get his feet under him.

He’s halfway up when Dave’s leg kicks him over again, sending him into a heap.

“Dave,” Klaus whines, clutching himself. “Please. I won’t do it again. I promise.” He draws in a wheezing, labored breath and lets out a hopeless broken whimper that breaks Dave’s heart.

He can’t believe Klaus hasn’t tried to run, or scream for help, or even defend himself.

Dave’s body starts kicking him again, in the back this time, and he can already see the contusions forming where Klaus’ shirt is riding up. It looks painful, so painful, and yet Klaus is just lying there crying like he wasn’t raised as a child soldier, like he never held his own in a bloody war.

Suddenly Dave regrets ever hoping that Klaus would stick it out, that he would stay long enough to get this figured out. Because now that he sees what that looks like, he’d rather Klaus just leave.

Eventually Dave’s body stops and looks down to assess Klaus’ condition. He’s shaking, face pressed to the floor as he curls in on himself. Dave can just barely hear his soft sobs and pleas that sound like “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

God, Dave just wants Klaus to leave.

But Klaus doesn’t even get up, he just keeps bleeding on the floor.

Dave’s body steps over him, grabs its coffee cup, and goes upstairs.

Chapter Text

Klaus scrutinizes his reflection in the mirror, frowns, and brushes a little more powder over his cheek. “How does it look?” he asks.

Ben sighs. “It looks like you got beaten up and you’re trying to pretend you didn’t.”

“Oh, shut up, Ben.” Klaus turns his head at a different angle, ignoring the twinge of pain in his neck. He’s lucky that the swelling around his eye went down so quickly, or it wouldn’t have mattered how well he covered the bruising. “I think it looks okay,” he says. “But this would be so much easier if there was any natural light in this place.”

“You know, you’re acting like this is a normal thing to have to do in a relationship.”

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t done it before, so it doesn’t exactly feel abnormal.”

“You did it once and then left that guy.”

“Yeah.” Klaus would shrug or heave a longsuffering sigh if his ribs could take it. It’s been a few days since… what happened, and the pain is only getting worse as his bruises develop.

He’s hidden as much as he could from Ben, insisting on alone time when he takes his baths, dressing a little more modestly than he usually does, but there was no hiding the blood all over his face when Ben found him on the floor in the kitchen.

He knows Ben probably doesn’t believe that it was just the punches. Ben’s seen him lurching around in pain, wincing, holding himself stiffly so as not to jostle his ribs. But as long as Ben doesn’t see how many shades of purple his torso is, he has a chance of keeping it from his sister.

“You promised not to say anything to Allison,” Klaus reminds him.

“Yeah, I did. But she’s gonna wonder who socked you in the nose.”

His fingers prod gently at the cut across the bridge of his nose and he winces. He knows it’s too busted up to hide with makeup, so the best he can do is lie about it. “I’ll think of something,” he says.

He ends up telling Allison that Dave accidentally elbowed him in the nose. Klaus was tickling him, and Dave started flailing, and the next thing Klaus knew he was seeing stars. Ben says nothing, and Allison laughs, so Klaus considers it a success.

She even compliments his purple eyeliner and doesn’t seem to notice all the concealer.

His luck holds until he realizes the mimosas their server brings to the table are definitely not made with Sprite. The smell of alcohol hits him like a hammer, along with an onslaught of complicated emotions he hasn’t felt in quite this way since he first quit. And yet his brain already feels soothed, comforted, by the assumption that it’s going to feel better—that everything’s going to be better—just as soon as he takes a drink.

The server’s gone by the time he thinks to tell her it’s wrong.

“Shit,” Allison says, looking at him as she brings her glass away from her nose. “Yours too? I’ll go ask someone to make us new ones.”

Klaus hunches his shoulders. “Oh, well, I’d hate to make a fuss.”

“You? Since when?”

“Really, you guys can have yours,” he says, pushing his glass away. “I’m fine, it won’t bother me.” He breathes in, letting the smell waft into his nose again. It’s reflex to identify his nose as the part of his body experiencing the craving, to begin to walk himself through the sensations he’s feeling there. There’s the pain and swelling of the injury, the way the scent of the alcohol is muted by his diminished sense of smell. The fact that it’s still sharp enough to cut through him like a knife. He exhales, and tells himself the craving will pass if he rides it out.

Usually the next step is to seek out Dave for comfort and support, but Klaus knows that’s not going to happen, not with the way things have been between them lately. That’s probably not going to happen ever again, actually.

God, if he still drank he could numb himself to how much that hurts.

“No way, Klaus,” Allison is saying, already out of her chair, collecting all three of their glasses. “We all want what we ordered, don’t we, Ben?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, nodding. “No one’s inconvenienced by making sure it’s right.”

“Alright,” Klaus mumbles. He’s not really paying attention to them, because all of a sudden it’s impossible to ignore how much he’s hurting. And he knows his body wouldn’t hurt, his heart wouldn’t hurt, nothing would hurt anymore if he just got completely shitfaced wasted.

Allison is gone, striding purposefully in the direction of the kitchen.

“Tell me if you’re not okay,” Ben says, looking at him closely.

Klaus slowly turns to look at him. “I’m fine,” he says, and leaves it at that. He can tell that Ben sees something in his expression, but he backs off and falls silent.

And then he says, “I promise I won’t tell her about your nose, or any of it. I think you should tell her, but I know you don’t want me to. So just relax, okay? I’m not gonna say anything.”

Klaus nods, and he only feels his heart sink further, because he can tell that Ben really means it now.

He would have expected relief, the feeling of a weight being lifted off his shoulders, but somehow he just feels heavier. And he realizes that there had been a part of him that assumed it was inevitable that Ben would tell Allison. Sooner or later he would tell her everything, and the two of them together would insist on Klaus doing what he doesn’t think he can do on his own. And he would do it, with the peace of knowing the situation was out of his hands.

He could have handled breaking up with Dave like that, he thinks, as long as he had enough time to prepare emotionally for the repercussions. To accept the ugly truths about himself, the shame from his family’s judgement, the crushing reality of losing Dave.

Now there’s just him and the sheer impossibility of ever asking Ben for help at this point.

The smell of alcohol still lingers in his nose, along with the itch in his blood. He tried riding it out, but instead he just feels like he’s sinking. Everything would be so much easier if he were numb right now, if he didn’t have to feel all these terrible things he’s feeling.

Ben reaches over and puts his hand on his arm. Klaus flinches, too used to Ben uselessly phasing through him, but he can’t help a thin smile when he sees the look on Ben’s face.

Ben knows him so well. That hasn’t changed, despite everything else feeling upside down right now. “You got this, Klaus,” he says, squeezing his arm.

Klaus nods, and forces himself to take a deep breath. It’s enough to loosen the tightness in his chest a little.

Allison comes back from the kitchen then and declares, “fresh virgin mimosas are on the way, and I’ve been assured that they’re on the house.”

“Thanks, Ally,” Klaus says, smiling weakly at her as she sits back down.

“No problem,” Allison says. “Did you guys decide what you want?”

“They have French toast,” Ben says, grinning excitedly. “I can’t remember the last time I had that. Mom always makes pancakes.”

“We could ask her to make French toast at home sometimes if you want. She would probably even cover it in whipped cream for you like they do here.”

“That would be amazing.”

Just a few minutes later the server brings out their drinks. Klaus accepts his glass with a wide, gracious smile.

She asks if they’re ready to order, and Ben and Allison nod. Klaus nods along with them, even though he realizes he never actually looked at the menu. He doesn’t know if they serve Belgian waffles, so he orders one with enough fake confidence to make the server question reality if they don’t. Maybe it’s a touch too much confidence, but it seems to do the trick as she heads back to the kitchen.

“I’ve never met anyone who causes so much chaos while being so predictable,” Allison laughs, shaking her head. “I’m pretty sure Hell could freeze over and my brother Klaus would still want waffles.”

“Hey! I don’t always want waffles!” Klaus exclaims. “You were there when we stopped Hell from freezing over. Did you see me with any waffles?”

“No, no, of course, you’re right,” Allison says playfully.

“But he did get a burrito while he was supposed to be on lookout outside the theater.”

“Ben!” Klaus hisses. “What did I tell you about spilling my secrets?”

“Relax, bro, this one is harmless.”

“Well, you still came through when we needed you,” Allison says lightly. “And, I mean, I think it’s understandable to want a burrito in just about any situation.”

“See?” Klaus says, gesturing at Allison. “She gets it. Maybe you’ve forgotten how good burritos are because you’re dead, Ben.”

“Maybe you should make me corporeal more often so I won’t miss out.”

“Why would I do that when you sass me like you do?”

“That settles it,” Allison says. “I know what we’re doing next time we hang out.”

Klaus takes a sip of his drink. It’s not as bad as he was expecting, to feel the fizz on his tongue and the bite of the orange juice without the ingredient he’s been yearning for. The craving is still there, but not as strong as it was before. He takes himself through the physical sensations he’s feeling in his mouth, and reminds himself that the craving will pass.

Ben is watching him again, but he looks much less concerned now. He gives him a soft smile when Klaus meets his gaze.

“I wish I could read Vanya as well as you two read each other,” Allison says, making Klaus look up at her.

“You really don’t,” Ben tells her. “Trust me. There’s plenty that should have been left to the imagination over the years.”

Allison snorts. “Okay, I believe you. Please do not elaborate.”

Their food comes out not much later and they busy themselves with buttering toast and pouring syrup. Allison insists on everyone trying her quiche, and soon enough portions of everyone’s meal are being shared to everyone’s plate. By the time Klaus works his way through his waffle, a piece of Ben’s French toast, and a bite of Allison’s quiche, he feels better than he has in days.

There’s only the pain in his ribs to keep him from completely forgetting that anything’s wrong. It was easy enough to ignore when they left for the restaurant, but it’s worse now after talking with Ben and Allison throughout the morning.

“Okay, we killed brunch today,” Allison declares, pushing her plate back. “Uh, wait, no offense, Ben?”

“None taken,” Ben smirks. “Okay, maybe a little offense taken, but you’re right, we killed it.”

“We’re definitely doing this again soon.”

“Not to be the bringer of bad news,” Klaus says, cringing slightly, “but I think we’re probably at our limit for today.”

“Running out of juice?”

“Yeah, I—I’m a little light today.”

Ben looks at him, frowning a little in concern, but Klaus waves him off. “Looks like I’m taking a day trip to the spirit realm,” Ben says, keeping his voice light. “You gonna be alright while I’m gone?”

Klaus rolls his eyes. “I will be thriving, Ben, thank you.”

“Well, I’ll miss you,” Allison says, pulling Ben in for a hug. “It was so great to see you. I definitely preferred this to that stunt you pulled with the pillow in Klaus’ room.”

Ben laughs, and Klaus is sure the flash in his eyes is gone too quickly for Allison to notice. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright. I’m still glad you said hi.”

“Maybe I will again then,” Ben jokes, raising his eyebrows.

“No, really, don’t. My nerves can’t take it.”

“Are you ready?” Klaus asks. Ben nods, and then Klaus lets his corporeal presence fade. As he releases his power he feels the fatigue settle more fully over him, worsened by the condition his body is in. When he gets home, he decides, he’ll take a long bath followed by a long nap.

“Oh, tell her we have to get burritos soon,” Ben says.

Klaus huffs. “Allison,” he says. “Ben said to tell you he hates you and never wants to see you again.”

“Yeah, sure he did. Lunch plans are still on. You can’t weasel out of it now, Klaus.”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re insinuating.”

Allison shakes her head, smiling fondly, and leads the way out of the restaurant. They take a taxi back home, while Ben steps into thin air and disappears. Klaus knows he’ll be able to recharge more quickly without any ghosts around, and Ben will return somehow looking a little more refreshed himself.

When they get to the house, Allison excuses herself and goes off in the direction of Luther’s room. Klaus slips quietly past the sitting room, where he can hear Diego and Dave laughing together at the bar. He doesn’t want to disturb them. He just wants to wash his makeup off and get some rest.

Chapter Text

They’re sitting together on the sofa, watching the television set Luther brought home one day after Reginald’s passing. Dave's fingers stroke very softly over Klaus' shoulder, and Klaus nestles closer against his chest. It almost feels like a normal movie night, almost exactly like the way they used to melt into each other, falling silent as they both became engrossed in the film.

Dave wants to cry, because right now it feels so much like the past week never happened, like he doesn’t have to worry every second of the day over what the hell his own body is going to do next. Like he isn’t terrified that he’ll never be able to control it himself again.

With Klaus tucked against his side, safe and sound in his arms, Dave can almost forget about all of that. He can almost relax for a moment and let himself savor the feeling of holding Klaus close.

But he can’t. He can’t relax, because he’s still waiting for the second when it all turns sour, and he knows that Klaus is doing the same.

There’s always a thrum of anxiety beneath Klaus’ skin now, even though he continues to act like everything’s fine. Dave can tell he doesn’t like it, that he’s upset and stressed out and nervous, but he still acts like it’s okay. Like Dave is allowed to treat him this way.

Klaus has been in bad situations before, Dave knows that. But they’ve talked about those relationships, and he can’t fathom why Klaus is choosing to stay now.

It’s too painful to suppose that it’s for him.

Dave feels the rhythm of Klaus’ breathing change, feels how he somehow sags against him more completely. He can only see the top of Klaus’ head from the direction his eyes are pointing, but he’s willing to bet Klaus has fallen asleep.

He hopes he has, because Klaus had still seemed so tired when Dave’s body woke him from his nap yesterday. Klaus doesn’t seem to be sleeping well at night, and Dave knows he needs extra rest to heal his injuries and recuperate from using his powers.

The thing in his body doesn’t seem to care though, as it shakes his arm to jostle Klaus’ shoulders. “Klaus,” it says coldly. “Are you even paying attention to the movie?”

Klaus jumps a little and stirs. “What?” he asks. “Oh. Yeah, I am. It’s really good.”

“It’s actually pretty shit, Klaus,” his voice says. “Is it too much to ask that you don’t sleep through the time we spend together?”

“I wasn’t sleeping, Dave, I was just… zoning out a little. You know. Daydreaming.”

Dave’s body sits up on the sofa, takes Klaus’ chin and turns it towards him. “About what?”

Klaus blinks up at Dave and swallows. “About- about how much I wanted to get you off right now.” He reaches out for Dave’s pants and begins to fumble with his belt buckle, shifting himself closer.

“You lying sack of shit,” Dave’s voice spits. His arm shoves Klaus back on the sofa, then pushes Dave up onto his feet.

Klaus leans forward to catch his wrist, but Dave’s body steps out of reach. “No, I—” Klaus says. “Just let me get you off, and then we’ll relax and finish the movie.”

“I don’t think so, Klaus.”

Klaus stands up, circling around in an attempt to catch Dave’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really. I thought you would want to.” A pause. “Dave?”

Suddenly Dave’s body lunges forward. Dave doesn’t know what it's planning to do, but Klaus reflexively throws his arms out to protect himself. They end up hitting Dave in the chest, making his feet stumble back a step.

Klaus’ eyes widen in shock as he realizes what he did, as he takes in the expression that Dave’s face twists into, and then he darts to the side, making a break for the door beyond the sofa.

Dave’s body starts after him, blindly grasping an object from a nearby end table and hurling it at Klaus. Dave sees that it’s a glass sculpture of some sort a second before it shatters all over the floor.

Klaus skids to a stop, his bare feet surrounded by shards of glass, and whirls around. “Dave,” he pleads, and then gasps as Dave’s body yanks him forward and backhands him across the face.

The force of it sends Klaus reeling. He falls against the coffee table, scattering ornate items in a clatter as he rolls off and drops to the floor.

Dave’s body is immediately on top of him, kneeling down to grab Klaus’ arm. It drags him slightly upright, then backhands him again, making Klaus yelp.

“I’m sorry,” Klaus whimpers, hurriedly, watching Dave’s hand pull back for another strike. He barely gets it out before the backhand comes, followed by another and another. Blood spatters onto the floor as cuts open across Klaus’ cheeks. “Please,” he cries hoarsely. “Please, Dave.”

Dave’s body drops him back to the floor, then straightens up and steps back. Dave gets the feeling that the thing in his body is waiting for something, that it wants to see what Klaus will do next.

But Klaus just rolls onto his side, curling into himself, hiding his battered face in hands that shake and tremble. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleads desperately. “I didn’t mean to. I won’t ever again.”

“What won’t you do?”

“Push you. Try- try to get away. I didn’t mean to. It just happened.”

Dave feels anger surge in his chest then, hot and hateful and belonging entirely to the thing in his body. He has his own anger of course—he’s furious that there’s something riding around inside of him that’s so intent on hurting Klaus—but he knows the anger burning in his chest isn’t his, because it’s all laser-focused on Klaus.

Klaus, who’s still cowering on the floor like the perfect picture of submission. The thing in his driver’s seat seems to hate that, much more than it hated his moment of self-defense.

It reaches down to grab a fistful of Klaus’ hair and pulls him up, enough for Klaus to get his feet under him, then shoves him against the console table behind the sofa. It bends him backwards, forcing the table ledge into Klaus’ bruised back, until he whines in pain. “Why not?!” it demands, gripping Klaus’ jaw in Dave’s hand. “Why don’t you ever try to get away?”

The pained look on Klaus’ face turns to confusion. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

Anger flares in Dave’s chest, even stronger than before. “You’re supposed to want to get away!” his voice shouts. “You’re supposed to break it off and leave!” Klaus tries to turn his head away, but Dave’s hand on his jaw yanks it back. “Why are you just putting up with it, you little piece of shit? Why are you still fucking here?!”

Dave isn’t sure if the questions are rhetorical or not, but his body doesn’t wait for Klaus to answer. It just lets out a growl and throws Klaus to the floor, right into the mess of smashed glass.

Klaus hits the floor with a yelp and instinctively brings his limbs in toward his chest. There’s a scraping sound as his arms and legs drag through the glass on the tile floor. He freezes, holding himself stockstill, but it's too late. He can already feel the itch and sting of tiny cuts all over his skin.

He lets out a low, hopeless moan then, and tries to think past the pain racking his body. It never occurred to him that Dave would question his sense of self-preservation in all of this. He had assumed Dave knew the score, that he knew since the first day he hit him in the kitchen that Klaus would let him do anything he wanted. Unless what Dave really wants is to hear him say it out loud, to hear him admit how pathetic he is. In spite of everything, a tiny spark of anger ignites within him at the thought.

“Do you actually have to ask?” he demands. His voice is weak and unsteady, despite his words, and he’s not sure if Dave can even hear him from where he's standing.

Dave's shoes crunch through the glass as he comes closer. “Enlighten me,” he says.

“It’s because I know I deserve it,” Klaus tells him, gingerly pushing himself onto his knees. “Did you think I didn’t know that, or did you just want to hear me say it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, because he realizes that ultimately it doesn’t even matter. “I know it’s all my own goddamn fault, okay, Dave? I know I’ll never have anything better than this. I know this is… this is it for me.”

Confessing it to Dave, saying it out loud, snuffs his anger out as quickly as it had flared up. He’s left with a bone-deep misery and an aching in his heart that causes his breath to hitch in a sob. “F-for a long time you were different than everybody else,” he continues, as fresh tears begin to fall. “And I thought that must mean I was different, that I was better than I used to be. Because- because if you could love me then I must be good.”

A whine rises from his throat. “But I was wrong,” he says. “You didn’t make me better; I made you worse. The same thing I’ve always done, to everyone else who stuck around. You just held out the longest. And now I know it’s always going to be like this, whether it’s with you or someone else.” He pauses, wiping his eyes, and looks up at Dave. “And I don’t want to lose you. Not after everything that was good. Not if you still want me.”

Dave doesn’t say anything, he just stares at him with a blank expression that Klaus kind of hates, especially after how plainly he laid everything out for him. So he looks away, turns his head in the only direction that doesn’t hurt. But it seems like everything hurts, and his head feels scrambled, and he can't think clearly enough to wonder what Dave will do next.

There’s a haze to his vision, but he catches a figure in black coming towards him from the other side of the room. “Oh, Ben is back,” he says to himself. “Hi, Ben. How are things? Feeling rested?”

“Klaus, oh my god,” Ben says, face slack with horror. There’s a woodenness to his steps as he comes around the sofa, taking in the scene surrounding them. “What the hell happened?”

“Dave and I had to get on the same page about a few things,” he explains. “But I think we got it all cleared up now.”

“Yeah,” Ben says, managing to sound sorrowful and unimpressed at the same time. “I caught the tail end of that.”

“I found Dave’s breaking point,” he says, giggling a little. “But Dave can’t find mine.”

“How can you put up with this?”

“Didn’t you hear what I—”

“KLAUS—”

Klaus barely registers the shock on Ben’s face before something smashes into his chest, knocking him onto his back with a breathless gasp.

“You think you don’t have a breaking point, huh?” Dave snarls, from somewhere just outside his field of vision. “That’s not gonna work, you worthless little bastard.”

He hears Ben let out a yell, and then Dave is swinging something heavy down on him again.

A candelabra, he realizes distantly. One of Dad’s old favorites. Must’ve had an interesting story behind its acquisition, because it’s ugly as sin. Hopefully it gets ruined.

He screams again as another shock of pain racks his body.

The next one explodes in his skull, making his vision swim. He closes his eyes against the trickle of warmth oozing from his forehead.

“You’re going to kill him!” Ben is yelling, but that makes no sense, because Klaus isn’t doing anything to anyone.

“Stop it!”

There’s another bloom of pain. Oh, it’s him, he thinks. He’s the one who’s going to be killed. Oh, well.

Ben is still yelling, and he sounds like he’s coming closer. Klaus struggles to open his eyes, and Ben is right there, almost on top of them. Dave raises the candelabra again and Ben lunges forward, reaching out to knock it from his hand.

That’s a silly thing to do, since Ben knows damn well he’s a ghost, but the candelabra drops from Dave’s hand and falls to the floor with a heavy thud. Then Ben knocks into Dave, sending him stumbling to the side as Ben sails the rest of the way through him. And it looks to Klaus like two people emerge on the other side.

There’s Ben and… someone else. Someone sort of familiar who he can’t quite place. Maybe he would if he could think straight, if he could even see straight. But he’s pretty sure he sees three people collapsing to the floor, and he thinks for a second what a scene they’ve made, the four of them sprawled out in the sitting room like something out of a murder mystery. And then he closes his eyes and doesn’t think anymore.

Chapter Text

Dave opens his eyes—he opens his own eyes—and then he scrambles onto his feet. He immediately falls to his knees, because he seems to have forgotten exactly how to coordinate standing on his own. Then, shakily, he pushes himself back up and looks around the room.

He’s not sure what happened. He felt… something. He felt the candelabra fall from his hand, and he felt the sudden absence of anyone else’s presence in his body. And then he felt the floor rushing up to him with a smack, and the bite of broken glass beneath him.

And—Klaus. Fuck, Klaus is… there’s so much blood, streaming from the wound at his temple and soaking into his shirt where Dave bashed him with the candelabra. And there’s so much glass everywhere, all over the floor where Klaus is lying. Dave can see from the rivulets of blood streaking Klaus’ arms and the soles of his feet that he’s covered in it.

But Dave has his shoes on. He can pick Klaus up, he can get him away from all this. He… probably shouldn’t try to move Klaus, not with his head bleeding like that, but Dave can’t stay here and tend to him.

So he carries him very gingerly to the infirmary and lays him very carefully onto the bed. The glass that cut Dave when he fell to the floor is stinging like hell now, but he can’t think about that until after he sees to Klaus. He turns around, spots the cabinets lining the wall, and begins to rifle through them. A few minutes later he has a stack of gauze pads pressed to the cut on Klaus’ head. He’s no medic, but he thinks he’s doing it closely enough to how he’d seen it done during the war. At least the wound doesn’t look too severe, despite all the blood coming from it.

Once he’s satisfied that the bleeding has stopped, he goes to the sink and wets a towel. He washes around the cut as gently as he can, pats it dry, and tapes a bandage over it. Then he folds the towel over and begins to wipe the blood from the rest of Klaus’ face, wincing as he uncovers the cuts on his cheeks. There are bruises already forming around them, blending into the shades of green discoloring his nose.

It’s hard for Dave to look at, reminds him of what it had been like to feel his knuckles colliding with Klaus’ face, but he’s not sure how to bandage the little cuts. He decides to let them be for now, and tries to forgive himself for being an inexpert nurse. When Klaus wakes up and things are some semblance of okay, Dave will ask Grace to bandage him up properly.

He’d ask her do it now, but he has no idea how to answer any of the questions she’d surely have. And he’s not sure there’s any way he can explain the scene in the sitting room. Not without Klaus’ entire family insisting he packs his things and gets out of their house.

It might still come to that, Dave knows. His heart clenches as he thinks about it, Klaus refusing to forgive him, or being unable to believe Dave’s explanation, both resulting in his family sending him packing out into a world that’s still so strange and unfamiliar to him.

He can’t let himself think about that, not when the wounds on Klaus’ chest still need attention.

He rips Klaus’ T-shirt to get it off his body. The blood has ruined it anyways, and it seems like too much trouble to maneuver his arms through the sleeves. But he stops in his tracks as the fabric falls away and he catches sight of what’s underneath. Nearly every inch of Klaus’ torso is bruised, from his chest to his hips and around to his sides. And Dave is sure—because he remembers kicking Klaus, leaving him in agony on the kitchen floor—that his back is just as battered.

Dave knows Klaus has been covering up more than usual since the incident, that morning after Dave… hurt him the way he did. And Dave knew logically there’d be bruises—he felt the force with which he was kicking him, heard his ribs cracking—but he hadn’t realized Klaus was dealing with this kind of pain.

He can’t help choking up, now that he’s controlling his own lungs again. Klaus had slept beside him in their twin bed, had cuddled with him on the sofa, and the whole time his body looked like this just beneath his shirt. He can’t believe Klaus put up with it, that he would have just kept putting up with it forever.

Dave pushes those thoughts away and forces himself to concentrate. He cleans and bandages the cuts on Klaus’ chest, and tries not to look too closely at his skin.

When he’s finished he goes back to the cabinets for a pair of tweezers. He decides to start with Klaus’ feet, since he was standing and walking on them and the cuts must be worse there. He pulls out every sliver of glass he can find with painstaking care, and he tries his hardest to avoid letting his mind wander. It works, for a while, until the little pile of glass Dave is collecting begins to heap. And then his mind starts to drift back to the things Klaus had said to him, the way he looked up at him from the floor and said the most heartbreaking things Dave has ever heard.

”It’s always going to be like this, whether it’s with you or someone else. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Dave had wanted Klaus to stick it out, he’d prayed and wished for it, but he hadn’t really understood the mental state it would leave Klaus in. And as things got worse, as he saw Klaus accepting it, allowing it, he had only been horrified by his decision to stay. He never knew what was going on in Klaus’ head that led him to stay through everything.

”Not if you still want me.”

He had hoped for the opportunity to fix the damage that had been inflicted on their relationship. It was naive of him to think Klaus only needed help with a few days’ worth of trauma.

“Oh, well,” Klaus had breathed, so softly that Dave had nearly missed it between swings of the candelabra. But it was impossible to ignore the fact that Klaus saw death approaching and felt so apathetic.

”I know I deserve it.”

Dave winces and forces himself to focus on the task at hand. He finishes with Klaus’ feet and begins to work on his arms. Once he’s satisfied that all the glass has been picked away, he cleans it the best he can and turns his attention to the glass in his own skin.

It’s much easier to distract himself from his thoughts then, as he hisses with every shard that comes free.

Klaus is still unconscious by the time Dave finishes. His pulse is steady though, so Dave thinks he’s done all he can until Klaus wakes up on his own. He crawls into the bed beside Klaus, wraps his arms around him, and doesn’t try to stop the tears that come.

He’s finally holding Klaus, just him with his arms around his boyfriend and no other force in between. He’s so happy to have this back, and yet he hasn’t quite shaken the terror that filled him when his hand picked up the candelabra. He doesn’t know if Klaus would have survived being hit in the head with it twice. If the thing inside him hadn’t left when it did… Dave can’t follow that train of thought, can’t imagine what he would have witnessed then.

He concentrates on his relief instead, how grateful he is just to have control of his body again. To know Klaus is safe now, that Dave has made him as comfortable as he can for the moment. He pulls Klaus closer and holds him as tightly as he dares.

It’s sometime after Dave’s tears dry up, when he’s just lying silently beside Klaus, that he feels a faint stirring in his arms. Klaus makes a weak sound of pain in his throat, and Dave smooths his hair back comfortingly. “It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re safe now.”

The sound of Dave’s voice makes Klaus freeze. He takes a ragged breath in, and Dave sees how hard he’s trying to force himself to relax, to look like he’s not terrified to be so close to Dave.

“No,” Dave says feebly, as his stomach drops. “Klaus, it’s me, I’m taking care of you, I—” Dave closes his mouth to the words rising in his throat. He has to explain, has to make Klaus understand that it’s him now, that it wasn’t him for nine whole days, but now he’s back. He has to explain, except he has no idea what to say. He doesn’t really know what happened, and he doubts Klaus could wrap his head around it anyways in his current state.

Then Klaus turns his head to the side, and he slowly begins to nod. He looks back at Dave, and Dave was right, it’s not exactly comprehension that he sees in Klaus’ eyes. But Klaus must understand enough, because the tension starts to melt from his body and he curls trustingly into Dave. And when Dave wraps him up in a hug, he only stiffens a little before relaxing again.

Chapter Text

Klaus groans and pushes himself up in the bed. “Shiiiiit,” he whines, wincing from pain that’s suddenly everywhere. “What did I do last night?”

Ben is there, right at his side. “You didn’t do anything,” he says. “What do you remember?”

He vaguely remembers being awake earlier. For some reason he was scared, and then he was confused. And then he just fell asleep again.

Before that, he remembers… mostly pain and yelling and crying. Dave had been upset about something, and things got a little out of control. Klaus raises a hand to his head and finds a wad of gauze taped there, right where the throb in his skull is coming from.

“Dave hit me with Dad’s stupid candelabra.”

Ben nods, slowly, like he’s waiting for Klaus to hit on something.

Ben had been there, Klaus remembers. He’d shown up just in time to witness the tail end of the fight. Or, no, Ben had ended it, hadn’t he? He’d grappled with Dave and made him drop the candelabra.

“You got him to stop.”

Ben nods again.

“Someone else was there too.” Now that Klaus is thinking about it, he remembers three people falling to the floor. Dave, Ben, and someone he… thought he might know, but couldn’t place.

“I think Dave was possessed,” Ben tells him in a rush. “I think he’d been possessed since the first time he hit you. But I stopped it, I think. I made contact with Dave and someone else fell out of him. And now they’re gone, so I think they ended up back in the spirit realm.”

“He was possessed by a ghost?”

Klaus hasn’t thought much about ghosts lately, not with all the other shit he’s had to worry about. There used to be one extremely annoying ghost who was always yelling at him, always trying to get his attention, but he fucked off at some point and Klaus hasn’t thought about him since. Actually, Klaus made him fuck off. He banished him. He’d been so excited to tell Dave all about it, except when Dave woke up he was different.

“Fuck,” Klaus says. “Oh, Christ.”

Klaus had just wanted to focus on his boyfriend, to ignore the ghostly vitriol being spewed in the corner of his room. Apparently he ended up funneling the ghost right into Dave.

“It was my fault.”

“Can you stop blaming yourself for everything?”

“No, I-I tried to banish a ghost. I thought I did it. But it was the same ghost that I saw downstairs after you…”

“Shit.”

“He wanted me to pay attention to him, but I wouldn’t because I was with Dave.”

“So, what, he thought he’d get back at you by making Dave treat you like shit?”

Klaus remembers the exasperated anger in Dave’s voice when he demanded to know why he was putting up with it. He remembers being so confused by Dave saying he was supposed to want to get away.

“He wanted me to break up with him.”

“Well, he underestimated how fucked up you are.”

“Why, thank you, Ben. That’s one of my best qualities.” Klaus looks down then and sees the bandages on his chest. It’s not Mom’s work, which means Dave must’ve been the one to take care of him. “Fuck,” he says, “is Dave okay? Where is he?”

“He’s been better, but he’s mostly worried about you. I think he went to take a shower.”

“I gotta—” Klaus starts to swing himself out of the bed. He stops when the room seems to tilt.

“No. No way. You stay here. I’ll check and see if he’s almost done.”

“Only one of us should be peeking in on my boyfriend in the shower,” Klaus calls, but he settles back down on the bed and lets Ben go.

Dave opens the door as if he’s not sure what he’s going to find inside. “Hey,” he says softly, when he sees Klaus sitting up. “You’re awake.” He hesitates by the door, and Klaus realizes that Dave is afraid he won’t want him to come any closer.

“Ben told me what happened,” Klaus says. “I know it wasn’t you. I guess it hasn’t been you for a few days, huh?”

Dave looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “No, that wasn’t me, Klaus,” he says, and finally crosses the room. Klaus can tell that he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He just sits down on the edge of the bed, careful to leave some space between them. Then he asks, “are you okay?”

Klaus laughs a little and reaches out to pat Dave’s knee. “A little sore, but I ought to make a full recovery. Must have had an excellent nurse tending to me.”

Dave nods, but he still looks too serious. “I meant more like…” He gestures to Klaus in a general sort of way, and Klaus appreciates him not outright asking if he’s irredeemably fucked in the head.

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he grins. “It was a tough week but I’ve had worse.”

Dave’s face falls. “It’s not just what happened this week, Klaus. The things you said… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Klaus frowns, suddenly feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar to him. “I was under duress,” he says.

“But you believe those things? That you deserve to be treated like that?”

Klaus looks down. He shrugs a little, trying to find the words to explain what he had felt when Dave first hit him, the sense of inevitability that had filled him with a heaviness like lead. He feels Dave’s hand on his shoulder and he flinches.

Dave pulls his hand away, looking stricken. “Sorry,” he says. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay?”

Klaus nods. “Are you okay?”

Dave sucks in a breath. “Honestly, no, definitely not. But I think I will be eventually. Once I know you’re okay.”

“The ghost that possessed you,” Klaus says, “I was trying to banish it. It was driving me crazy and I just wanted it to fuck off. But I guess it thought if it got us to break up then I wouldn’t have anything to do but entertain its bitching all day.”

Dave doesn’t say anything at first, and then he slowly starts to nod. “I could tell it wanted something,” Dave says. “It was so angry.”

Klaus cringes as a thought occurs to him. “God, I let it fuck me.”

“Klaus, that wasn’t— and you didn’t have a choice, it was hurting you.”

“It still touched me, and I let it.” Klaus shudders. “I slept next to it.”

“Well, it’s gone now,” Dave says softly. “It’s just us again.”

“Yeah.”

“Can I hold you?”

Klaus nods and allows Dave to wrap his arms around him. It’s hard to shake the impulse to tense up, to override the instinct his body has already learned to protect itself, but he does his best to relax. It’s different from the way he’d done it before, when he forced himself to calm down so he could pretend everything was fine, that he was comfortable with what was happening. This time he can tell himself that he truly has nothing to be afraid of anymore.

Ben comes back then, drifting through the closed infirmary door. “Allison’s downstairs,” he says. “She saw the room and she’s afraid we were attacked again, like when Hazel and Cha-Cha broke in.”

“Well, I’m not sure what that has to do with me,” Klaus says primly. “Last time I wasn’t even included in the headcount afterwards, so.”

“Diego’s already looking for you.”

Klaus pauses, frowning. “I don’t want to see him right now. And I have no desire to go down there and explain anything to anyone.”

“What’s going on?” Dave asks, looking between Klaus and the general area he’s speaking to.

“Ben says Allison and Diego found our little almost-murder scene and they have a few questions.”

“I’ll go talk to them,” Dave says automatically.

“And tell them what exactly?”

Dave grimaces. “Do you think they’d believe I was possessed?”

“Dave’s gonna get himself stabbed,” Ben says. “Manifest me and I’ll go downstairs and tell them everything.”

“Ben said he would talk to them.”

“While you stay up here?” Dave asks. “Are you sure you’re strong enough to do that right now?”

Klaus does feel drained, but he thinks he could do it if he had to. “I really don’t want to see them yet,” he says quietly.

He doesn’t want to let Ben talk to them either really. Klaus knows once they hear what happened that they’ll find a way to blame him, to look down on him, even though Dave is back and it’s all over now. He can’t stand the thought of Ben just going and spilling all the secrets that Klaus has kept so carefully.

But he knows how they are. They’ll have to be told something or they’ll never be deterred. And he knows if he’s there that he’ll have to answer to them, and Klaus can’t handle that right now. So he has to leave it up to Ben to explain everything and convince them to leave him alone.

Klaus concentrates, and then Ben is solid. “Hi, Dave,” he says, smiling softly. “I’m glad you’re back. I knocked the candelabra out of your hand, by the way. I’m not sure if you knew that.”

“Oh,” Dave says. “No, I didn’t know that. You took the ghost with you, didn’t you?”

“Seems that way.”

“I owe you my life. And probably Klaus’ too.”

“Nah. Maybe breakfast though, next time you’re cooking.”

Dave just nods, looking misty-eyed.

“If you’re gonna go then go,” Klaus tells him. “I’m burning energy here.”

Ben nods, and walks out of the infirmary, closing the door behind him.

Klaus feels a sort of stretch within him the further away Ben gets. He sags against Dave, blinking tiredly, and tries not to worry about the conversation happening downstairs.

“It’ll be okay,” Dave says. “Diego thought it was me just like you did. He’ll understand.”

“But they’ll know I deserved it.”

“Klaus,” Dave says. “It is not your fault. You have never deserved to be hurt like that.”

“But I—”

“Stop.”

Klaus closes his mouth, and Dave begins to card his fingers through his hair, the way he always does when he’s soothing Klaus’ worries. Klaus never noticed that Dave didn’t do that once in the last nine days, not even in the lulls between bouts of violence. He’s almost overwhelmed by how good it feels now, to have Dave being so gentle and affectionate with him, with no lurking fear of it all being ripped away. He lets out a contented hum and presses closer.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Dave murmurs, gathering him in. “You’re safe now.” He starts to rub his back, very lightly, keeping his hand up around his shoulder blades to avoid the bruising everywhere else. Klaus knows Dave will probably feel compelled to be careful with him for a long time, but he doesn’t mind. He thinks maybe he needs that too.

“I know,” he says, and he means it.