"Aw, gee, kid." He sighs, releases an arm and reaches to wipe away the tears with the back of his knuckles, mouth downturning when younger Klaus starts going off again. God, he wishes he could blurt everything out all at once or just Paul this shit by touching the other male's forehead and transferring all meaning of life to him-- okay, not that much information, but enough to help him understand that shit's awful and things get way worse before they get better. "It means it's okay to accept these feelings? I... I wouldn't say they're normal, but well..." Goddamnit, why's everything so flawed with this explanation? He's explaining, that's gotta be why. "Accepting the fact you need help is the first step." And he doesn't sound any better by spewing this rehabilitation shit, but it's true.

"Thank God for that, then. At some point, you're going to hit this spot where you feel like you need it, which is when it'll change. Things will be more reckless and at that point, you'll do anything to keep getting high," he hesitates, glances toward the dogtags hanging against his chest then clutches Klaus's face in his hands, forces their eyes to meet. "But everything will be worth it in the end once you get clean."