💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment
some meme idk / @timejumps
Klaus has never been one to wake peacefully. Every morning comes with a series of shudders, breath catching in his throat as he’s dragged into consciousness by ghosts and no, no, no, please. These days it’s worse than it ever has been. Klaus no longer jerks awake, he bolts upright in his bed gasping like a man drowned or else with a name on his lips, or a warning. Vietcong are in he trees but he can do nothing about it, or he’s trapped in the mausoleum, or Hazel and Cha Cha are there holding him down as he drips blood. Every night is like the worlds shittiest roulette: what night terror will he have the joy of experiencing today?
Last night was awful, Klaus had screamed himself awake at four am and hadn’t calmed down for almost fifteen minutes of Ben talking slowly from the corner of the room. It’s a good thing Reginald soundproofed Klaus’ room, really, he thinks his siblings would appreciate the screaming and shouting about as much as he does, which is to say not at all. Going back to sleep was out of the question so Klaus spends the day exhausted and on edge. A helecopter flying overhead stops the blood in his veins, he steps on his eyeliner pencil and has to stop himself from yelling at Carter to watch his fucking step before he gets them all shot, in the kitchen Luther puts a mug down slightly too hard and Klaus bolts from the room faster than you can say shell shocked. Now he’s sat in the living room smoking a cigarette and daring Ben to say anything about it because God knows he could do with something stronger. Ben says nothing though, probably figuring some arguments just aren’t worth having while Klaus is in this state. Which is stupid really because Klaus is fine, he is-or he’s managing anyway, so whatever. It’s fine.
Then somewhere near the mansion a car backfires, and all hell breaks loose.
He flings himself to the ground, hands already scrambling for his rifle, he must have dropped it when the first grenade went off-idiot. It’s dark, they do this, come at night when the 173rd are half asleep and clumsy with fatigue. The jungle floor feels strange against his fingers, smooth, cold and almost like he isn’t in the jungle at all. Opening his eyes (when did he close them?) makes things even worse because what he’s seeing isn’t the same as what he should be seeing. Instead of jungle, Dave’s boots, his rifle, there is polished wood floor and old furniture. It makes him feel sick, like everything around him keeps changing and shifting too fast to keep up with. He wants Dave, but Dave is dead. Wants Carter or Smith to make bad jokes with, but Smith stepped on a mine, and Carter was shot through the head by a sniper not two weeks after. They’re in the jungle together, crouching low, but he’s also in the mansion pulling at his hair desperate for something, anything, to ground him. A terrible keening noise escapes him, raw and primal and terrified.
For a while, Klaus floats. Everything is muffled but the sound of his own gasping breaths gunfire that he doesn’t know is real or not. Sometimes he felt like a ghost, stuck in the middle and belonging nowhere. Vietnam is in his bones, his sleep, in every fucking helicopter or too loud noise, but he’s also at the mansion ignoring all the signs of his father, shivering whenever he walks past the office. Klaus is tired of not knowing where or when he is, not knowing if he’s sweating to death in the heat of Vietnam or sat in the kitchen while Grace hums. So he slips, he closes his eyes in the kitchen and opens them again half an hour later in his bedroom with no idea how he got there. His days are aimless, spent wondering the halls of his old home and in the mirror his face is pale and worn as any ghost he’s ever seen. It would almost be funny if he weren’t so very tired and so very, very afraid.
There’s a voice. One that doesn’t belong in Vietnam and is only just starting to belong in the mansion again. Five, talking about something Klaus cannot make out over the blood pounding in his ears, but talking all the same. He focuses on it, forces himself to forget everything else until the muffled sounds become words and he can finally open his eyes again. Five’s sat in front of him, crossed legged in the floor talking about-maths? Klaus isn’t sure, the words are words again but the meaning still escapes him. He blinks, slowly lowers his hands from his head.
“Five?” his voice is rough, as if he’s been screaming. He has. Five looks at him properly then, frowning slightly eyes full of something Klaus would almost mistake for concern if that wasn’t such a stupid idea.
“Back with us?” Five asks in that same no-nonsense voice of his which is far more calming than it has any right to be, all things considered. Klaus nods, a pained jerking motion that doesn’t feel like it comes from him but Five seems to understand anyway. “Good.” they lapse into silence, Klaus’ scratching the backs of his hands and trying to steady his breathing out, Five simply watching as if he’s a puzzle to be solved. It’s nice. Having someone alive here too. Makes it easier for Klaus to ground himself.
“1968,” he says suddenly, surprising himself. “When you asked-the briefcase-I went to 1968-Vietnam. I served. Ten months.” he doesn’t explain further than that, doesn’t go into why he didn’t come back sooner even with all the death and gunfire and nightmares. Five spent years finding a way back to his family, and Klaus spent ten months believing he’d never come back again. Probably that makes Five the better person out of the two of them, which wouldn’t surprise Klaus. Most people are better than he is, really.
“Oh,” says Five because he’s not one to coddle but he’s acknowledging it anyway, accepting the truth of the thing which Klaus is grateful for beyond what words can express. Klaus nods, mouths the word yeah but can’t seem to make his voice work again. Silence settles between them again because there really is nothing more to say. Klaus’ hands are still shaking, his face caked with sweat and tears, but he feels more grounded than he has all day, calmer too.
