It's like reliving Ben's death all over again-- but would it be for a third time because he's feeling it for the other Klaus at this moment plus double the pain for remembering it himself or would it just be one whole time? Either way, watching teenage Klaus slowly come to realize that what he's said – something he'd never, ever lie about in his life – is real, it's goddamn heartbreaking.
There's no way he'll be answering the almost 'What happened?' he catches; the fact he's said Ben's died is enough, so nobody's going to force him to tell how. His fingers curl tighter, ensuring the boy won't be able to shake him off too easily, despite the fact he's currently a broken pile on the floor, some crazy shattered mess of emotions that he's caused. "God, Klaus—" Man, it sounds weird to say his own name, but what else is he supposed to call him?
Klaus recoils but holds firm still, shamefully inclining his head, the heat of a humiliated blush creeping up to his cheeks when he feels his counterpart's gaze on him. "Probably not long before you ended up here? You... look about the right age, and we— we were just trying to protect you!" The lamest damn excuse he can give, although it's the truth. Something tells him this is going to have an extraordinarily bad reaction.
"Ben's here because of Five," a beat, then he decides he should explain better, "Some of them, anyway. There are at least one or two that are floating around, that didn't... didn't get brought back, I guess? I don't fucking know how this timeline shit works. It's why he's doing so much reckless stuff, you know? Like consuming copious amounts of caffeine and doing daredevil stunts."
He's just, uh, going to leave out the part where he convinced Ben to freerun and jump across a huge gap from one rooftop to another.
The moment he breaks down, Klaus's heart sinks straight into his belly, his insides roil, his throat burns and his mouth floods with an awful, acidic taste. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as well, but try as he might, they squeeze out, streaming down his cheeks while he shifts onto his knees, moves both arms to scoop the smaller male up off the floor. He holds him tight, reaches to stroke comforting circles between his shoulder-blades. "I'm sorry," he consoles softly. "I'm so sorry, we should've— Christ, we shouldn't have hidden this from you."
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There's no way he'll be answering the almost 'What happened?' he catches; the fact he's said Ben's died is enough, so nobody's going to force him to tell how. His fingers curl tighter, ensuring the boy won't be able to shake him off too easily, despite the fact he's currently a broken pile on the floor, some crazy shattered mess of emotions that he's caused. "God, Klaus—" Man, it sounds weird to say his own name, but what else is he supposed to call him?
Klaus recoils but holds firm still, shamefully inclining his head, the heat of a humiliated blush creeping up to his cheeks when he feels his counterpart's gaze on him. "Probably not long before you ended up here? You... look about the right age, and we— we were just trying to protect you!" The lamest damn excuse he can give, although it's the truth. Something tells him this is going to have an extraordinarily bad reaction.
"Ben's here because of Five," a beat, then he decides he should explain better, "Some of them, anyway. There are at least one or two that are floating around, that didn't... didn't get brought back, I guess? I don't fucking know how this timeline shit works. It's why he's doing so much reckless stuff, you know? Like consuming copious amounts of caffeine and doing daredevil stunts."
He's just, uh, going to leave out the part where he convinced Ben to freerun and jump across a huge gap from one rooftop to another.
The moment he breaks down, Klaus's heart sinks straight into his belly, his insides roil, his throat burns and his mouth floods with an awful, acidic taste. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as well, but try as he might, they squeeze out, streaming down his cheeks while he shifts onto his knees, moves both arms to scoop the smaller male up off the floor. He holds him tight, reaches to stroke comforting circles between his shoulder-blades. "I'm sorry," he consoles softly. "I'm so sorry, we should've— Christ, we shouldn't have hidden this from you."