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Klaus was (trying to) knit in his bedroom, the ghosts annoyingly loud today. He had considered going to buy some drugs, but he’s one year sober now, and he couldn’t spoil it so ruthlessly, so he instead took to the least boring thing he could find to take his mind off it, this time being knitting. Vanya taught him three times to knit, and each time Klaus always forgot at least one step. There was a knock at the door, which Klaus acknowledged with silence, knowing that his lack of privacy would mean whoever was on the other side would come in anyway, invitation accepted or not. He was right, as a couple seconds later, Five walked in, standing at the doorway.
“You know, the level of privacy I’m allowed, you might as well have just materialized right in front of me,” Klaus noted, not looking up from his knitting.
“We’re watching a film; the others weren’t sure if it was a good idea to invite you considering the film we’re going to watch, but I said we should at least ask.”
“Well, thank you, dear brother for thinking of me. What film are you watching?”
“It’s a war documentary, the best one of the century… film, not war. It’s… about Vietnam.”
“...It’s good that you’re wanting to educate yourselves on it.”
“You don’t have to say yes, they said it’s too early, and it probably is, but I just wanted to know if you’re interested.”
Klaus thought about it for a minute. Sure, it would be hard, it might turn out to be the worst night of his siblings’ lives, seeing their brother in the worst state of shock a person can find themself in, but he hadn’t had a flashback in over a fortnight; surely that meant he was on the up. “Sure, I’ll watch it; I’m lazy can you take me back down with you?”
“Yes, of course.” Five held out his hand, which Klaus took. In a moment, they were both now in the grand living room, where all his siblings were gathered on sofas around the television they bought after Klaus stopped the apocalypse. You see, Klaus saved the world with what turned out to be telekinesis, stopping the moon rock from hurtling towards the family, and the rest of the world, instead sending it back into space. Now, much to his other siblings’ shock, he is fairly famous; not as much as Allison, but more than they were as kids. Klaus Hargreeves (or Four, depending on someone’s view), saviour of the world.
“Good morning, children!” Klaus shouted in the voice of his father.
“It’s afternoon, Klaus,” Ben reminded him. “Come on, sit down. They’re waiting for you to start watching it.” Smiling, Klaus sat down between Diego and Vanya.
“You sure about this, Klaus?” Diego asked, grasping hold of his brother’s hand.
“Yeah, sure, it’ll be fine. Sure.” He was severely doubting his instinct.
Ben leaned forward. “You don’t have to do this, Klaus. It’s okay, they’ll understand.” Klaus, of course, ignored him. Allison, who was holding the remote control, pressed play on the documentary. The sounds get louder when footage was shown, but Klaus would simply squeeze tighter on Diego’s hand in these moments, letting his tension grow looser when it wasn’t so bad.
Suddenly, while Klaus was staring at a ghost in the corner, Allison took a gasp and quickly pressed the programme on pause. “Everything okay?” Klaus snapped out of his trance to ask the question.
Allison scoffed nervously. “Klaus, that’s you.”
“What?” A collection of the siblings said at once.
“Klaus, that’s fucking you!” she repeated, pointing the remote at the television. Reluctantly, Klaus looked towards the TV. There he was, hiding behind a pile of dirt. Klaus often kept quiet about his time in Vietnam, but what he did talk about was the person he was always with, the person who he talked about more than anything, the person called Dave.
But Dave wasn’t there, but a collection of other men around his age or so. “Klaus?” When Diego said this before squeezing his brother’s hand, it was only now that Klaus realised he’d been staring at the photo on the screen for too long for his siblings not to notice, them now all looking at him.
“Sorry, what did you say?” He tried to act normal, like he wasn't on the TV screen right now.
“You’r-... where's Dave?” Luther asked.
“Where does it say we are?”
“Mountain of the Crouching Beast,” Vanya explained, her tone flat in shock.
“That must have been just after…” He felt a tear drop down his face, but he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t make it stay up in his eyes, up in the clouds. “I stayed for about a week before I came home.”
“Oh, Klaus. I’m so sorry…” Allison’s voice. Klaus sat for a moment, still staring at the photo of himself looking back at him, then stood up, taking himself to the nearest bathroom. His feet hurt with every step he took, and he was lightheaded, feeling more sick than he ever had, even in his days of drug abuse. He was almost ready to hurl by the time his trembling legs reached the bowl of the toilet. Everything in his stomach exploded from his mouth as he retched ungracefully. With a blue flash he couldn’t see, there was a small hand rubbing his back. Eventually, the heaving stopped, and Klaus remained with his head on the toilet, just in case, but his attention was brought to his brother in the room. He didn’t realise he was crying until he heard the splashing of the tears in the toilet.
“You okay?” Five’s voice called. It was strange hearing him being so kind.
“Yeah, it’s just…” Klaus couldn’t finish. He couldn’t find a word to describe what that feeling was.
“Shock? It’s okay, Klaus. You should never have gone through that. It’s understandable. We shouldn’t have made you watch that. Diego said you were squeezing his hand… Look, what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry for what you went through and we weren’t there when we should have been… me especially. But we’re all here for you now… yeah?”
“Yeah… thank you.”