Ben Hargreeves | Number 6 (
dial6forhorror) wrote in
umbrellajackassery2019-04-12 11:38 am
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01: i spend too much time ghosting [ota]
In the name of avoiding everyone and everything until he had sorted out the chaos in his own head, Ben had gone into hiding.
He hadn't left or gone anywhere else, he could still feel that tether drawing him back here, but that was where it got messy. Ben had several truths in his world. Even death didn't stop the Horror. Being dead sucked. He knew where Klaus was.
He was sixteen when he died, just shy of seventeen. And ever since then, nearly half of his existence, he always knew where Klaus was. It was always just a thought and he was right near him, usually in the middle of whatever chaos Klaus had caused.
But there wasn't a Klaus.
He was sure he'd seen at least three by now. One of them was definitely not the Klaus he thought of as 'his', because he had a Ben with him, a living, smiling Ben. And he was fairly sure he'd seen another version of himself, silent and invisible and lurking in a corridor outside a door.
But he wasn't sure which one was his and it was overwhelming and frightening, in a way that the world hadn't been for him for a long time. Which was why he had decided to go to the place he hated most and he knew the others would mostly avoid.
He went to Sir's office and sat down in a corner on an antique chair that they never would have been allowed to touch. He sat and rubbed his stomach where the Horror roiled, unsettled by his own discomfort.
He hadn't left or gone anywhere else, he could still feel that tether drawing him back here, but that was where it got messy. Ben had several truths in his world. Even death didn't stop the Horror. Being dead sucked. He knew where Klaus was.
He was sixteen when he died, just shy of seventeen. And ever since then, nearly half of his existence, he always knew where Klaus was. It was always just a thought and he was right near him, usually in the middle of whatever chaos Klaus had caused.
But there wasn't a Klaus.
He was sure he'd seen at least three by now. One of them was definitely not the Klaus he thought of as 'his', because he had a Ben with him, a living, smiling Ben. And he was fairly sure he'd seen another version of himself, silent and invisible and lurking in a corridor outside a door.
But he wasn't sure which one was his and it was overwhelming and frightening, in a way that the world hadn't been for him for a long time. Which was why he had decided to go to the place he hated most and he knew the others would mostly avoid.
He went to Sir's office and sat down in a corner on an antique chair that they never would have been allowed to touch. He sat and rubbed his stomach where the Horror roiled, unsettled by his own discomfort.
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He glances up when he can see Ben moving out of the corner of his eye, huddling up close to him, and Klaus can tell Ben's a little bit in his own head too. He makes a wan smile, rubs at his eyes.
But then he feels it. The slight cool pressure against his knee, and his head jerks up, he meets Ben's eyes.
"I know man, I know. You've always been there..."
Tentatively, he lowers his hand, rests it over where Ben's is on his knee. And he can feel it, just a little, like Ben's hand has substance, and he holds his breath. Doesn't mention it, just in case he's jinxing it.
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He becomes a little more real to his own reckoning. He can carry the strain, give Klaus a break. And squeezes his hand on Klaus's knee, the flesh refusing to let him phase.
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Licking his lips, he looks down at where Ben's hand sits on his knee and squeezes. He's not doing it, Ben is, and it feels like a breakthrough. He doesn't know how to process it.
"I guess you could call it getting into trouble, huh...I have heard it called 'pissing my life away.' No idea who might've said that."
He manages to crack a little grin.
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Just like the Horror. Concentrate, a mix of focus and feeling, intent and emotion. He doesn't loosen his grips, instead he feels the press of fingerbones into too little muscle.
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Another puff from his cigarette, and he closes his eyes, shivering a little. He's exhausted and strung out and his emotions are all over the place. The cigarette is half-gone, and he can feel Ben's hand under his. He squeezes it.
"I need to...get back on the whole training thing, don't I?"
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He murmurs it, pushes his hand through his hair, and sighs before getting up and climbing into the bed. He's already barefoot, and he's done worse than sleeping in his leather pants, so he just squirms under the blankets. And it's stupid, because he knows Ben wouldn't leave and doesn't need to sleep, but he still asks, his voice soft like a little kid's-
"Promise you'll stay?"
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Instead of promising, he climbs on the bed (which he knows he can't do, but that's how he interacts with furniture unless he focuses on ignoring it) and lays down on his side, back to the door and facing Klaus.
He doesn't sleep. "I'll stay here, okay? I'll keep them away from you. You can sleep."
Them could be many things. The other brothers. The duplicates. The ghosts. Whatever it is, he means it.