Klaus rolls his eyes at that laugh, and the response to his little pep talk isn't exactly unexpected for all that it's not ideal. He probably wouldn't have taken the same speech seriously last year, let alone when he was 17, which is a hazy period of history that might as well be the time of the dinosaurs for all he remembers that part of his life.
"I said not to be ashamed, and that it's gonna be fine someday, squirt. You really think you're ever gonna grow up into the type of person who gives after school special PSA bullshit speeches that don't mean anything? Please."
There's a certain lightness to the ribbing, a gentle reminder of who he is - who they are - to his younger self, who must've mistaken Klaus for an actual adult.
But the moment passes, and the kid is tearing up, saying it's not okay, talking about Ben's death, and fuck if that doesn't still bother him, every single day. Even while Ben hovers right beside him judging his coping mechanisms, talking him out of that last line that might kill him, getting him riled up and angry when he needs to be, telling him what he needs to hear, he still misses him. He still remembers how it felt when Ben died, remembers the weeks-long bender he'd gone on, desperate not to see ghosts because what if Ben came back like the rest of them, injured and angry and desperate and screaming his name over and over again? Remembers seeing him again and trying to hug him and going right through...
"Hey...hey hey hey, come on, now..." His voice is soft, has an edge of tenderness to it as he slides his arm around the kid's shoulders, pulls him in close to his chest, shifts in his seat so his body is blocking anyone's view of his younger self so he can cry a bit in peace. Lord knows sometimes they just need to cry it out. So he just holds him around the shoulders, digs fingers into his thick curls and speaks softly, gently.
"Come on, breathe slow and even, right along with me okay? Keep breathing, deep as you can, hold it for a second, let it out slow..."
It was something Dave taught him, when he was freaking out on the battlefield, the words come back naturally, he just repeats what he'd been told. Doesn't expect it to stick. He'd never been able to get the hang of it, not in the worst of the panic, unless Dave's arms had been around him like a safety net made of muscle and bone and blood.
Klaus squeezes his eyes shut and rides it out for a moment, before he speaks again.
"I know, I know. Losing Ben...it's impossible. It's impossible. It never goes away, there's always this empty spot, because he mattered. Did the other...the other us tell you that Ben's never gonna leave you? That he's gonna stick around and nag and give you that eyebrow...you know the one, the disapproving one...and tell you where not to pass out and be the first thing you see when your head starts clearing after everything wears off? Did he tell you that someday you'll be able to make it so you can touch Ben again?"
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"I said not to be ashamed, and that it's gonna be fine someday, squirt. You really think you're ever gonna grow up into the type of person who gives after school special PSA bullshit speeches that don't mean anything? Please."
There's a certain lightness to the ribbing, a gentle reminder of who he is - who they are - to his younger self, who must've mistaken Klaus for an actual adult.
But the moment passes, and the kid is tearing up, saying it's not okay, talking about Ben's death, and fuck if that doesn't still bother him, every single day. Even while Ben hovers right beside him judging his coping mechanisms, talking him out of that last line that might kill him, getting him riled up and angry when he needs to be, telling him what he needs to hear, he still misses him. He still remembers how it felt when Ben died, remembers the weeks-long bender he'd gone on, desperate not to see ghosts because what if Ben came back like the rest of them, injured and angry and desperate and screaming his name over and over again? Remembers seeing him again and trying to hug him and going right through...
"Hey...hey hey hey, come on, now..." His voice is soft, has an edge of tenderness to it as he slides his arm around the kid's shoulders, pulls him in close to his chest, shifts in his seat so his body is blocking anyone's view of his younger self so he can cry a bit in peace. Lord knows sometimes they just need to cry it out. So he just holds him around the shoulders, digs fingers into his thick curls and speaks softly, gently.
"Come on, breathe slow and even, right along with me okay? Keep breathing, deep as you can, hold it for a second, let it out slow..."
It was something Dave taught him, when he was freaking out on the battlefield, the words come back naturally, he just repeats what he'd been told. Doesn't expect it to stick. He'd never been able to get the hang of it, not in the worst of the panic, unless Dave's arms had been around him like a safety net made of muscle and bone and blood.
Klaus squeezes his eyes shut and rides it out for a moment, before he speaks again.
"I know, I know. Losing Ben...it's impossible. It's impossible. It never goes away, there's always this empty spot, because he mattered. Did the other...the other us tell you that Ben's never gonna leave you? That he's gonna stick around and nag and give you that eyebrow...you know the one, the disapproving one...and tell you where not to pass out and be the first thing you see when your head starts clearing after everything wears off? Did he tell you that someday you'll be able to make it so you can touch Ben again?"