Chapter Text
Ben squints up at the sky. “Looks like rain,” he comments idly.
“Mmm,” Klaus says.
“Probably a lot of it,” Ben says, keeping his eyes on the sky.
“Mmmmm,” Klaus says.
“Might almost compare to the storm at my funeral,” Ben judges. “Remember that? We had to have it inside because we literally couldn’t see each other outside. And Dad didn’t want to get wet, of course. God forbid my death take precedence over the old bastard’s comfort.”
“Yeah,” Klaus says, shooting Ben an annoyed glance. Ben suppresses a smile. Klaus should know by now that acknowledgement just spurs him on.
“You know, I never mentioned what I saw later that night,” Ben says. “I was wandering around after the funeral, checking in on everybody, and then I went to Allison’s room and Luther was there, and compared to what you’re doing now -”
Klaus hisses and turns to fully glare at Ben. “Shut up!”
“Excuse me?” says the woman.
Ben honestly can’t remember her name - something that starts with A or E or maybe M. She draws back from Klaus, looking confused and offended.
“No no no, not you,” Klaus says, holding out his hands. His shirt is on the ground, his pants half-unbuttoned. The woman isn’t much more decent than him. “Wasn’t talking to you, of course not.”
“What, so you were thinking of someone else?” The woman scowls. She’s reasonably attractive, Ben guesses, by the standards of people Klaus usually sleeps with. The scowl, however, erases most of her good features. “Who?”
“Ugh, nothing, just my stupid brother,” Klaus says, glaring at Ben.
“You were thinking of your brother when I was about to give you a handy?” The woman recoils in disgust. “Ew, ew, ew. I’m outta here.”
“Wait, shit, no!” Klaus says, but the woman snatches up her clothes and flees the alley.
Klaus sags against the bricks for a moment, before pivoting on one foot and glaring murder at Ben. Ben, being already dead, is unaffected.
“Hate,” Klaus hisses. “Hate you. So much.”
“I have to get my entertainment somehow,” Ben says.
“Then go watch a movie!” Klaus throws up his hands. “Spy on our siblings! Visit the ocean! Or the moon! Preferably the moon, being on the same planet as you sounds very unappealing right now.”
“Why do any of that when I can make your hookups think you’re into incest?” Ben says reasonably.
Klaus glares harder, then slumps. “Did you have to bring up actual incest, though?” he asks plaintively.
“Who said anything about that?” Ben says innocently. “I was just going to say Luther and Allison were holding each other, it was way less racy compared to what you were doing.”
“....You know,” Klaus says, “When everyone was rhapsodizing about what a good and nice person you were after your death, keeping a straight face was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t keep a straight face, that’s why everyone is mad at you,” Ben reminds him. Or just tells him. He’s not entirely sure how much Klaus actually remembers about the days following Ben’s death.
“Psh, whatever,” Klaus waves the subject away. He does that a lot, Ben has found. Usually when one of his flaws gets thrown into relief.
Pushing back the small flare of annoyance, Ben looks back up at the sky. “You should get to shelter, though. It really does look like rain.”
“Does not,” Klaus says, probably just to be contrary.
“It does,” Ben says flatly. He’s learned how to handle Klaus in the six years since he’s died - at least, as much as Klaus can be handled. Right now, Klaus is on the tail end of a high, coming down but not too hard. He has more pills in his pocket (the only time he doesn’t have pills is when he has needles or powders, instead), plenty of them, so he’s not frantically planning out ways to get more. He’s annoyed with Ben thanks to scaring off the hookup, which is a drawback, but otherwise he’s capable of focusing enough that he’ll probably listen. “And you need to find shelter.”
“Well, I did, before you scared her off,” Klaus says.
“Klaus, she was as homeless as you,” Ben rolls his eyes. “Someone else.”
“Ben,” Klaus mimics his tone, “if I start growing standards, I’m going to die of pneumonia.”
Slowly, Ben counts to ten.
It doesn’t help very much. He tilts back his head and closes his eyes.
The thing is, Klaus is right. He really can’t afford to have standards, not when winter is bearing down and a cold snap could hit any day. Not when the dumpster where he keeps his (very few) changes of clothes soaks up heat like a sponge, and all the homeless shelters turn him away when they see just how dilated his pupils are. Not when he throws every last dime he has into buying drugs, drugs, and more drugs.
It’s honestly mind-boggling, just how many drugs Klaus buys. He’s hooked on just about every single kind there is, it seems like, and he never turns down a high. Sometimes, Ben wonders if Klaus is more addicted to being a junkie than anything else, because he doesn’t seem to have a favorite drug, just buys whatever is nearest (and whoever said drugs dull your mental acuity has clearly never seen Klaus working out which dealer is selling closest to him based on time of day, day of the week, how much they usually sell and how many other customers are in the neighborhood). After six years of constant proximity, Ben can say with complete confidence that Klaus has never been sober in all that time. He always gets more drugs.
And, of course, there’s how he pays for them.
Ben ignores the sharp jab of the Horror inside his stomach through ease of long practice. “Just go to the club already.”
“You’re sending very mixed signals here, Benny,” Klaus says, stretching. “First you scare away my hookup for the night, then you tell me to go a-hunting? My brain is all mushy, you have to keep it simple. And why can’t I just -”
“It would take too long to find a customer willing to let you spend the night,” Ben interrupts.
“But I’d get paid, and weren’t you the one complaining about how I should eat or whatever -”
“Just go to the damn club, Klaus,” Ben says.
“Ugh, fine, if it stops your whining,” Klaus sticks out his tongue, and saunters off.
Ben is left alone in the alley. He stares blankly at the wall.
It’s not - it’s not so much that Klaus sells himself, really. Ben, sadly, got used to that in the first year after his death. It’s more that Klaus puts drugs above everything. Food, shelter, warmth, health. Himself. If it came down to a choice between his own foot and a bag of pills, Ben knows exactly what choice Klaus would make (it would be different if the choice was between pills and a hand, but only because you need two of them to use a needle).
Ben runs his hands through his hair and grips onto it. He closes his eyes and takes a breath.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Then he follows after Klaus.
**********
The club is seedy enough that Ben isn’t entirely sure that the puddles on the floor are alcohol. He eyes his surroundings, looking out for anyone suspicious, before realizing that counts as everyone. So he resolves to look out for anyone screaming and charging at Klaus with a knife.
Which is needed, because Klaus certainly isn’t paying attention. He took a few more pills (judging from the wideness of his smile, at least three) and is dancing out on the floor. If it can be called dancing, anyways.
Klaus has always been good-looking. Ben used to be annoyed about that, just a little - he and Allison were always the ones who got photographed and gushed over, always asked questions about their styles and looks and so on. While Luther and Five always fought over who talked to the press about the mission, and Ben and Diego hung off in the back (at least, until Diego conquered his stutter), Allison and Klaus were the engaging ones, the ones that drew everyone’s eyes with sheer charisma and vibrancy.
Out on the streets, however, those traits are a drawback. Klaus can’t help but attract attention wherever he goes, and even beneath years of drugs and grunge he’s still quite good-looking. Beautiful, even.
It is not a good idea to be beautiful in the places Klaus regularly hangs around.
Sure enough, there’s more than a few people looking at Ben’s brother with a familiar glint in their eyes. Klaus spins around in a circle on the floor, laughing to himself. He’s flushed and sweaty, and the light reflects off his hair like a halo.
A man sidles up to Klaus, bumps against him as they sway to the music. “Hey there,” the man says, grinning.
“Hey!” Klaus says, grinning back. He flashes his palm at the man, the one that says ‘hello’. He got the tattoos just over two years ago, when he was so high he could barely explain to the artist what he wanted. When he came back to himself, he was extremely distraught to have wasted so much potential drug money, even if he liked the tats.
Ben wasn’t all that happy about it either. Klaus hadn’t eaten for two days before then, and then he decided to spend all his money on tattoos.
“You looking for a good time?” the man says, moving closer to Klaus.
“If you’re offering,” Klaus says.
The man’s eyes roam hungrily over Klaus’ body, and Ben has to look away.
“Sure am,” the man says. He grabs onto Klaus’ wrist and pulls him towards the club’s exit. “What do you say we get out of here?”
“Lead the way!” Klaus says brightly, ignoring how the man is already doing that. Or maybe just not noticing. It’s always a tossup, how cognizant Klaus is of his surroundings when he’s this high.
Ben sighs to himself. Of course Klaus didn’t check that they’re actually going back to the guy’s place for the night. It might be that the guy just wants a quickie in the alleyway behind the club, in which case they’ll have lost valuable time. Ben eyes the horizon, where the sun is just beginning to set.
Sure enough, the guy leads Klaus towards the alley instead of the parking lot. Klaus, giggling quietly to himself, doesn’t notice until they come to a stop.
He looks around, wide-eyed like a child who isn’t sure what’s going on. He jerks in surprise when the man pushes him against the wall and starts kissing him.
“Mrrg?” Klaus says.
“He’s not taking you back home, dumbass,” Ben says. He eyes the man, who’s reedy and thin even if he’s taller than Klaus, and decides that there’s a good chance Klaus can hold his own if things get violent. “Tell him no. You have to find someone else.”
Klaus hesitates for a couple seconds, before pushing against the man’s chest.
“What?” The guys says once he gets the message and breaks away. He gives a smirk that’s probably supposed to be seductive, or something. “You got suggestions?”
“Nah,” Klaus says, sighing. “Sorry, I just - remembered something. Gotta go.”
“What?” the guy says, blinking.
Klaus slips out from between the wall and the guy, who’s too surprised to react immediately. Klaus lopes to the entrance of the alleyway, and Ben finds himself relaxing.
That is, until the guy reaches out and grabs Klaus’ arm.
“What, hey, wait a second,” the guy says, as Klaus freezes. “What do you mean, you gotta go? You’re leaving?”
Ben closes his eyes. “Shit,” he says, more tiredly than anything else. He knows the tone in the guy’s voice. It’s offended pride, the kind that comes from feeling entitled to something only for that something to try and walk away.
“I - yeah, you know,” Klaus says, and even though he’s trying to play it cool Ben can tell he’s heard the tone as well. “Sorry, it’s nothing to do with you, it’s just that I have this blazingly important appointment across the city, totally slipped my mind until now, and -”
“Oh, come on,” the guy says, sounding solidly annoyed now. “You were all over me a few minutes ago, and now I’m not good enough for you? Is that it?”
Klaus blinks and sways on his feet, and Ben can tell it’s a struggle for him to stay focused on the conversation. With a sinking heart, Ben realizes that when he judged Klaus capable of matching the guy in a fight, he forgot to account for the fact that Klaus is soaring right now.
“I - no?” Klaus says, except his voice sounds uncertain. He’s losing track of what’s going on.
Unfortunately, the guy takes that uncertainty to indicate a lie.
It’s honestly not much of a surprise when Klaus gets pushed up against the wall of the alley. Ben digs his nails into his palms so deeply he’s pretty sure they’d start bleeding if he were still alive.
“That’s funny,” the guy says, something dark in his tone. “That’s real - fucking - funny. You think you’re too good for me? You? Some ten-dollar whore who came into that club practically giving himself up on a platter?”
“Huh?” Klaus says, frowning, eyes dilated so much there’s almost no iris showing. “No, ’m fifteen dollars.”
The guy pauses. “....Seriously?”
Ben takes a very, very deep breath, and quietly curses to himself.
“No, wait, seriously?” the guys says. “You’re seriously a whore. And - you tried to turn me down. What the fuck.”
Klaus lets out a yelp as the guy shoves him against the wall. “Ow - hey, stop -”
Ben digs his nails deeper into his palms, and closes his eyes.
He debates with himself about walking away.
It’s not like he can do anything. If Klaus even remembers he’s here, he wouldn’t want Ben to see what’s probably going to happen next. Ben doesn’t want to see what’s probably going to happen next. There’s nothing he can do to the guy, however much he wants to let the Horror out for just a few seconds.
That’s impossible, though. Ben can’t help Klaus, can never help Klaus. Not even on the few rare occasions when Klaus would accept it. Not even those times when Klaus loses his grip on reality and asks - begs, really - for Ben to help him. Not when Klaus takes on customers who make him do utterly disgusting things, not when Klaus overdoses in the backs of seedy bars and clubs, and not now, when some random stranger is going to take what he wants regardless of what Klaus is saying, like he isn’t even a person, just something conveniently there.
Sure enough, the guy grunts as Klaus keeps pleading (which is definitely the drugs’ influence, he hardly ever pleads even during encounters worse than this). “Shut up,” the guy snaps. “Stay still, fucking whore, you asked for it, I swear to god -”
“No, no,” Klaus babbles. “No, wait, I don’t - please -”
“Hey!”
Ben’s eyes fly open. Klaus stops struggling, and the guy pauses.
As one, they look over to the mouth of the alleyway, where the most beautiful sight Ben has ever seen is standing.
“What,” Diego says lowly, “the fuck is going on here?”