Yeah, it had been colossally stupid, taking pills like that from a stranger. And yet Klaus had done it for over half his life. Even before he was 18, he was stealing whiskey from the bar, stronger stuff from the medicine cabinet. Breaking his jaw at 12? Had changed his life forever.
Knowing that he could shut them out, that drugging himself muted his powers- it was a delight. It meant not waking up to random ghosts, to people clawing at his skin, screaming his name. And he had accepted each and every way to get them out of his head.
Still. He can't blame Luther. He can't blame One. Always had the pressure of leadership on his shoulders, forced to account for every mistake, every bad choice. The golden son who had been abused just as badly as the rest of them. Just. In a different way.
"--Yeah, yeah! Though, we weren't always fighting, I mean- We had leave sometimes. Go out to the city. Disco in the 60's? Way better than any rave." And god, how Dave had looked at him. That sly little smile, the softness of his lips...
And he couldn't be summoned. Not here.
Not ever.
He'd never even existed here.
The smile falls slowly from his face, and he looks away. "I took their briefcase thinking there was cash or valuables or something. And I hid it. For ten months."
No one had seen him come home. Not with the blood of his beloved on his hands. Shell shocked and despairing. Five had only seen the aftermath, had cared too much about the briefcase, Diego had only seen him drinking- and Ben. Ben knew everything. Because he couldn't keep secrets from his closest sibling.
"... Look, I don't... Do we have to talk about this?"
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Knowing that he could shut them out, that drugging himself muted his powers- it was a delight. It meant not waking up to random ghosts, to people clawing at his skin, screaming his name. And he had accepted each and every way to get them out of his head.
Still. He can't blame Luther. He can't blame One. Always had the pressure of leadership on his shoulders, forced to account for every mistake, every bad choice. The golden son who had been abused just as badly as the rest of them. Just. In a different way.
"--Yeah, yeah! Though, we weren't always fighting, I mean- We had leave sometimes. Go out to the city. Disco in the 60's? Way better than any rave." And god, how Dave had looked at him. That sly little smile, the softness of his lips...
And he couldn't be summoned. Not here.
Not ever.
He'd never even existed here.
The smile falls slowly from his face, and he looks away.
"I took their briefcase thinking there was cash or valuables or something. And I hid it. For ten months."
No one had seen him come home. Not with the blood of his beloved on his hands. Shell shocked and despairing. Five had only seen the aftermath, had cared too much about the briefcase, Diego had only seen him drinking- and Ben. Ben knew everything. Because he couldn't keep secrets from his closest sibling.
"... Look, I don't... Do we have to talk about this?"