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Klaus was sprawled out on the couch, eyes closed, chest barely moving as he slept. Except it wasn't really sleep, it was a half-awake state where he could hear things but couldn't respond to them without effort.
Until he felt something heavy land by his legs, at least. “I told you guys I don't heal unless I die,” Klaus mumbled, ignoring as warm hands lifted his legs up to place them in a lap. They were too soft to be Dave's, and too big to be Vanya's, and too gentle for any of his other brothers.
“Patrick is letting Claire come to visit. Next week.”
Klaus slowly opened his eyes and stared at a smiling Allison, who seemed to take direction from Vanya's recently chopped hair, cut her own hair, leaving it to curl around her face.
Klaus had been letting his own hair grow, not out of any desire to, but he couldn't find the scissors to cut it. Dave, at least, was happy by the missing scissors, and spent every opportunity that he could playing with the curls that had begun to form. It was the one upside to the whole horrid affair.
Oddly enough, Dave's hair hadn't grown much at all once it started to curl around his ears, as if declaring he liked the length was all it took for it to stop growing. Klaus didn't hate it either, but Dave could be bald for all he cared.
Klaus let his eyes settle on Allison, who had a hand on his ankle all while she stared at him intensely. “I'm really happy for you,” he said, which was true. It had become much easier to decipher some of his feelings, mostly the good ones, thanks to Dave and Allison, and the others too, he supposed, but mostly Dave and Allison.
At least he was pretty positive the weird fluttery feeling was happy.
Diego talked to Klaus the most casually, but Allison was the one who actively included him in things, even when he didn't know he was being excluded.
Allison beamed, and Klaus gave her a flat smile. “I already set up her room, do you want to see it?”
And Klaus didn't, but he said yes anyway because that was what you were supposed to do.
The walls a white with pastel pink moulding. A full size bed with thick, pink, comforters and matching pillow, even a curtain to go around the bed made of a sheet white material.
It was hideous.
“It's hideous.”
“It's not for you, it's for a six year old girl who likes princesses.”
“Well then it's probably fine.”
Allison rolled her eyes and dragged him inside, showing him the toys and books she bought. More than enough for the two weeks she’d be there.
More than enough for a year, probably. “It's a lot, I know, but I'm hoping if this goes well Patrick will let her visit more often.”
Klaus ran his fingers along a soft plush unicorn. “We'll make sure it does.”
–
Klaus did not realize Patrick would also be staying at the Academy.
He supposed normal people didn't send six year olds to fly across the country by themselves, but Klaus had not been a normal six year old.
Patrick gave Klaus an odd look when he opened the door to let Patrick in. He wasn’t tasked with this, but everyone was conveniently gone while Allison brought Patrick back.
He looked Klaus up and down and his placid face turned into one of… worry, maybe? Or disgust.
Klaus glanced down at himself. He'd gained some weight, and while he could still feel his bones they were a bit less prominent. He was still pale, but he'd never been able to burn or tan before, he always assumed it was a side effect of his communing with the dead schtick. He knew he still had dark circles under his eyes that just seemed to be permanently tattooed there, no matter how much sleep he got (which still wasn't much), like the blue lines of his veins or the odd tint to his lips, more purple than pink. He supposed to a normal person his appearance was a bit off putting.
Or maybe it was the skirt? He had run out of pants, because he'd forgotten that they needed to do laundry, so it was all he had. “I'm Klaus.”
“I know,” Patrick said flatly. “Allison, you didn't tell me he'd be here.”
Allison, with Claire at her heels, snapped her head in Patrick's direction. “Yes I did,” she said cautiously. “He's not... sick anymore.”
Klaus supposed that depended on who you asked.
“He looks sick.’
“No, I always look like this,” Klaus said, his eyes moving from Allison and Patrick to Claire.
Klaus crouched down to get to eye-level, something he sometimes did with Five to piss him off, and waved Hello at her.
Claire clung tightly to Allison's leg, her eyes wide with terror. He turned around, wondering if maybe there was some ghost he didn't know about roaming around, though that was highly unlikely, but there was nothing behind him.
When he turned back to Claire her cheeks were wet with tears and her eyes snapped shut so she couldn't see…
Oh.
Him.
So she couldn't see him.
Because he was scary.
Klaus stood up and ignored the apologetic look Allison shot his way.
–
Klaus sat at the kitchen table, eyes staring at the plate of food in front of him that Diego had made with Grace's recipe, because she and Pogo had yet to return from their vacation, and while Klaus was sure most people didn’t take vacations for months at a time Klaus did take a vacation from life for decades, so he didn’t have much room to judge.
Diego and Five were across from him and Dave was out.
Working.
As if Klaus didn't have enough money to keep them from working for three lifetimes.
Not even normal lifetimes, but his potentially endless lifetimes.
So Klaus was at a kitchen table, without Dave who was maybe not as smart as Klaus thought him to be (which already wasn't much considering who kept as company) across from Five who Klaus still owed a debt to, and Diego who…
Well Klaus liked Diego, he was pretty sure.
“When's the last time you ate?” Five asked the way Dave asked, because it was the only way Klaus knew he was supposed to eat.
“Three PM yesterday.” Which was good, apparently, because he ate twice yesterday and it wasn’t even ten AM right now and he was already looking at more food. Something about three meals?
It usually took days for him to notice when he was hungry.
He hadn't eaten any of it yet, but it was there. He prodded the sunny side up eggs on his with his fork before stabbing it into the yolk and shoveling the whole thing into his mouth.
He did not care for sunny side up eggs, the undercooked yolk coated his tongue unpleasantly, and he drank some water to wash it down.
“Good, right?” Diego asked, because he was attached to Grace, and Grace taught him how to make this.
“No,” Klaus admitted, prodding the other egg with a fork and doing much the same as the first, just so no one could complain he wasn't eating.
Five snorted into his coffee as Diego's face turned red.
Diego’s face fell before it scrunched in anger. “They're cooked perfectly!”
“I told you the yolk was runny.”
“They're supposed to be!”
“It's still gross,” Five said, even as Klaus shoveled the third and final egg into his mouth.
“I've had worse.” Which was true, the eggs hadn't given him food poisoning. And there wasn’t any mold.
“And you didn't even give us toast.”
Diego's face turned even redder, which Klaus knew meant he burnt the toast. His mouth quirked up as he pushed the plate away from him and rested his chin in his hand.
Diego took it without prompting to wash it.
It was then that small, pattering, feet came running into the kitchen. Klaus heard a slight squeak as they skidded to a halt.
“Go say hi to your uncles,” Allison urged quietly.
Claire let out a soft whine, but Klaus’ back was to her so he couldn't see what she looked like. He lowered his hand and dragged his nails across the table.
Diego dried his hands and then immediately bounded over, because Claire liked Diego just fine.
She liked everyone just fine.
Even Dave, though that was understandable. Dave was dumb and weird, but likeable.
Claire was almost immediately giggling as Diego, he didn't know, made her giggle? He couldn’t see because if Klaus turned around to look Claire would start crying, and then Patrick would get this look on his face, and then Allison would get that look on her face, and Klaus was getting real tired of looks.
Klaus sighed and glanced at Five who hadn't gotten up, not because Claire didn't like him, but because Klaus was pretty sure he didn't like Claire.
Well no, that wasn't true. He just didn't like that he couldn't talk like an adult around her. Klaus gathered there were some complex feelings about stolen childhoods that Klaus couldn’t relate to, even though he definitely should be able to. Klaus hadn't bothered trying to unpack all of that yet.
Klaus could still hear Claire giggling and decided that she must be properly distracted enough that he could slip away without all the crying and looks.
Five followed him, keeping pace just behind him.
“She doesn't get that I'm not a kid,” Five said unprompted, but pretty much summed up everything Klaus assumed. “All she wants to do is play. With me, because I look like I should want to play.”
“But you don't.” Five sighed and leaned against a tree in the courtyard while Klaus sat on the bench there. “At least she's not afraid of you.”
“I wish she was, might make things easier.”
“Not for Allison. Patrick won't let her come back.”
“He said that?”
“Not yet.” Though Klaus realized that sounded like Patrick was considering it at all, which may have been true but Klaus didn’t know that for sure. “But he doesn't like me either, so I’m pretty sure it’ll be my fault if he doesn’t.”
Five looked at him quizzically and Klaus decided to pick the lint off the skirt he was wearing.
He finally did (convince Diego and Dave to) do laundry (because he stared at the machine for three hours unable to comprehend what all the buttons and knobs do), but the skirts felt nice.
Dave liked them too.
Actually so did Ben, unless he was fucking with him.
Ben might have been fucking with him.
“They just don't know you yet,” Five said after a span of silence.
Klaus sighed and let his head fall back, only for his stupid long hair to get caught up in the branches of the bush behind him. “Fuck,” he muttered, blindly trying to untangle his hair. “There's not much to know,” he said once the last of his hair was freed. “And none of it, from what I understand, is appropriate for a six year old.”
He really needed to find those scissors, it was starting to get dangerous.
“Not about your past, about you.”
Klaus was his past, though. All the big and small things that made him what he was, the late night doughnuts and the early morning mausoleum visits, the thirty minutes of playtime he stopped partaking in at twelve, and the consistent electrical brain stimulation, and various other electro-therapies and testing he'd had for as long as he could remember, the drugs, the sex, the dumpster food, the mental hospital, the war, the end of the world, the beginning of his life, dancing in the rain, this conversation he was having with Five in that very moment, all him. He didn't know how he could fit all of it but it was crammed in there, taking up space in all the nooks and crannies inside of him. Klaus sighed, almost let his head fall back before remembering the bush, and then let his head fall forward, his stupid hair falling all over his face. He let out a huff of air that sent his hair fluttering out. “I don’t think that’s appropriate for six year olds either.”
“Oh yeah, loving your family, so inappropriate.”
Klaus shook his head. “No, I love Dave. I don’t know if I love the rest of you. I didn’t even know I liked Diego until ten minutes ago.”
“You wouldn’t be trying so hard to get Claire to like you if you didn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, but it sounds right, doesn’t it?”
–
Klaus was laying on top of Dave on the couch in the living room with some television show Dave liked playing in the background. It was the first day he had off work, (which was still stupid. He wouldn’t even tell Klaus what he was doing). (That was Klaus’ fault, he had gone to the diner Dave was waiting at and sat in Dave’s section and refused to leave, and took all of Dave’s time, and Dave got fired for it). (Dave had been, he later found out, rightfully upset. Even after Klaus apologized. They were ok now, but Klaus wasn’t allowed to know where Dave worked anymore. Which was fair even though it really wasn’t).
Klaus just wanted to hole up in their room for the day, but Dave needed a break, and Klaus refused to physically let go of him, so they compromised.
Klaus could smother Dave with his body, and Dave would get to sit in the living room on the off chance someone else wandered by so he could interact with the rest of Klaus’ family.
Ben had joined them, at some point, and he and Dave took up to talking about the television show, some… thing? Klaus glanced at the television, trying to figure out what was going on, but all he saw were people standing around.
Talking.
Riveting.
Klaus sighed.
Dave’s hand trailed a gentle line along Klaus’ spine, and Klaus felt himself relax further into Dave.
“Is this all you’re going to do today?” Allison asked, coming into the living room and breaking the silence Klaus had created for himself.
“Up to this one,” Dave said, shifting to probably look at her.
He was polite like that. Klaus, however, knew what Allison looked like, so he didn't.
“Well I was going to take Claire to the park, it’s gorgeous out."
The park.
“Ugh.”
Dave huffed out a laugh from under him, blowing Klaus’ stupid fucking hair with it. “I think we should go to the park, darlin’.”
Klaus finally lifted his head from Dave’s chest to look at his face. Dave wanted to go, Klaus did not want to go. “Fine.” He peeled himself off of Dave, combed his fingers through his hair, ignoring the way they caught in the curls, and stalked out of the door, pausing for a second to look back at them all. “Let’s go.” The faster they left the faster they got back, after all.
–
“Sometimes I wish it was that easy for me to get ready,” Allison said.
“Sure, but then you’d have to look like the perpetually half-zooted, idiot cousin of The Crow all the time.”
Allison doubled over in laughter, leaving Dave to wonder what The Crow was.
–
Klaus forgot the part about Claire coming with them to the park.
Klaus stayed slightly behind the group for the first few blocks, except Claire kept looking back at him, then whipping her head around to avoid looking at him.
Then he made his way to the end farthest from Claire so she would have to look across three people just to see him.
Allison peered over to him, her mouth twisted into a frown, but Klaus just shrugged. It wasn’t like Claire was the first child to be afraid of him, but it did sting the most.
They got to the park and Klaus sat on the back rest of the bench, one elbow on his knee so his hand could prop up his head, while his other hand rested in Dave's curls. Dave sat on the bench in front of him, head leaning against Klaus’ knee.
Allison and Ben decided to run around the park, Claire squealing in delight.
“It's sweet, the two of them,” Dave said as Ben, smiling and red faced, motioned for them to come over, while Allison continued to play with Claire, taking her to the monkey bars.
Klaus could picture Dave doing that, playing with a kid, his kid, in a sunny park, smiling like that. Not for the first time, Klaus wondered what Dave was doing with him.
Dave got up.
Klaus didn't.
Ben, Allison, Dave, talking and smiling while Claire smiled between the three of them.
Four pairs of eyes turned to Klaus. Klaus raised a hand to wave at them, and Claire flinched and turned away.
Klaus lowered his hand and rested his cheek on it.
As they moved from the monkey bars to the swings another kid, with their parents pushing a stroller, came running into the park, making a bee-line for the slide before slowing down right in front of Klaus.
The kid stared at him with wide eyes, mouth open in a small ‘o’.
Klaus managed to get his mouth to cooperate, and he gave the kid a small smile.
The kid's eyes lit up and he waved goodbye before finally making it to the slide.
The parents slowed to a stop, watching their kid run off before both turning to look at Klaus.
There was something… funny about adults being frightened of him.
Klaus pointed at Allison and Claire. The mother gasped loudly, her eyes flickering wildly to Allison, Ben, and Dave, and then to her own kid. Klaus lowered his hand and continued to stare at the couple, baring his teeth at them.
The father practically ran towards Allison, Ben, and Dave, gesticulating wildly at Klaus, while the mother went to grab her son.
Sure, Klaus didn't like that his niece found him terrifying, but he had no problems scaring anyone else.
Dave looked at Klaus, eyebrow raised.
Klaus winked at him, and Dave laughed, turning back the husband.
The kid was crying now, loud, obnoxious, all the while digging his heels into the wood chips that littered the play area.
Dave pulled away from the group, the father of the kid glaring at his back, and walked to the bench Klaus was perched on. He didn't say a word, but he took Klaus’ face in his hands and kissed him. Klaus’ eyes widened, his arm slowly falling to rest along his thigh. “What was that for?” he breathed out once Dave pulled away.
“They said you were some kind of creep.”
“I am.”
Dave kissed him again. “And that they wanted to call the cops.”
“I hate cops.”
Dave kissed him once more, and Klaus wished he could feel like this all the time. “You should quit your job,” Klaus said once they parted again.
Dave rolled his eyes. “No.”
Klaus huffed. The couple were still staring at them, though Allison and Ben had gone back to playing with Claire.
“Told ‘em you were with us, just wanted to prove it.”
Klaus let his finger run along the length of Dave’s arm.
The family was gone now, and Allison was crouching down next to a crying Claire, Ben by her side trying to help calm her down.
Klaus let his eyes slide away from them, focusing on the buttons on Dave's shirt instead.
–
Patrick didn’t like Klaus. To be fair, he had mixed feelings about most of Allison’s siblings, but Klaus bothered him the most.
He, well, he looked like death. Dark circles under his eyes, bones prominent through pale skin, track marks littering his arms, the perpetual scowl on his face that Allison insisted was just how his face was, and he wasn’t actually frowning all the time.
He never wore shoes or shirts, even when they went to nice restaurants, and Claire was terrified of him.
Patrick didn’t blame her. He was kind of terrified of him too.
But Klaus hadn’t done anything.
Patrick was expecting him to, but any time he got near Claire he’d wave, and then walk away when she didn’t return it. And he’d stopped doing that after his third attempt.
And now Claire clung to Patrick’s leg, as they waited for Klaus to wander (and he did wander, leaving rooms as if he didn’t know where he was headed, entering them like he’d never intended to), out of the foyer. Except he was talking to Five.
Patrick had hoped he’d be a nice little playmate for Claire before he was told off by Five himself for thinking he was a child. Patrick didn’t like Five much either, but that was mostly because Five spent twenty minutes cursing him out. He had, however accidentally, offended him, so it made sense.
(And, no, Patrick didn't fully understand all of that was going on with Five ir any of the others, but he didn't offend the kid guy on purpose).
He couldn’t hear what Five was saying, talking too fast and using far too many words he didn’t recognize. Klaus seemed to be paying perfect attention, or not, he could never tell because his face never moved.
Klaus mumbled some kind of response and then a flash of blue indicated that Five had left.
Patrick peered around the corner again, catching Klaus’ eye. He raised his hand in a wave. Patrick returned it and, as if satisfied by the interaction, walked past them and up the stairs.
–
Patrick wasn’t sure how he was convinced to go out with Klaus.
Klaus' initial reaction was “Like a date?” and even Patrick could tell he was disgusted by that thought.
“No, not like a date, but to bond,” Allison said. She had the look on her face that meant he wasn’t getting out of this.
He used to love how determined and powerful she looked when she made that face.
Now it sent a knot in his stomach because he was sure that was usually when she’d use her powers. “No,” Patrick said firmly, widening his stance and crossing his arms.
Allison’s face softened a bit. “I think maybe if you two get along, Claire might be more willing to give Klaus a chance.”
Patrick scoffed, but Klaus’ head swiveled towards Patrick, eyes wide and unblinking.
“You can’t make Claire like someone.”
Allison sighed and Klaus’ head swiveled back to her.
“She can’t,” Patrick said again, making sure to look Klaus in the eye as he said it.
Klaus shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“We just wanted to see if it would work,” Allison said.
“If what would work?” Of course she was probably trying to convince him to let her use his powers on-
“Us 'getting along'." Klaus tilted his head back, causing Patrick to look up, but there was nothing up there.
Patrick shook his head and focused bacm on the conversation. "What?"
“You and Klaus!” Allison said, her frustration seeping into her voice now. “You don’t like him, so it validates the fear Claire has of him! If you get along then maybe she’ll realize he’s not scary.”
Patrick saw Klaus roll his eyes and mumbled under his breath, though he couldn’t hear what Klaus said.
Allison had, whether by intention or because she just knew, Patrick wasn't sure, but she rolled her eyes and said “You're not.”
Klaus held up a hand, index finger and thumb a centimeter from each other as if to say “a bit”.
“Fine,” Patrick said. Because it seemed like right now the point was to just get Claire to be less afraid, and that was fine. He didn’t want his daughter to be afraid, ever.
He still felt uneasy, leaving Claire alone with Allison, but he knew now what to look for when she used her powers, her memories of events vague, like she hadn’t really experienced them. She hadn’t acted like that at all since they arrived for their visit.
So Patrick and Klaus went out for a walk.
The weather was nice, warm, sunny. Klaus, apparently, owned sunglasses that he pushed over his eyes.
Still no shoes, and Patrick winced every time he stepped on a piece of gravel, or ran the bottom of his foot along the ankle of his pants.
They passed by a coffee shop and Patrick slowed to a stop, expecting to go there to talk.
But Klaus kept walking.
And then they passed a sketchy looking shop, maybe for piercings or tattoos? And Klaus glanced at it but still didn't stop.
Thank goodness, because Patrick definitely wasn't in the ‘get matching tattoos’ phase of their relationship. But he did take that as an opportunity to try and get a conversation going.
“Is that where you got your hand tattoos done?”
Klaus did that weird slow head turn to look at him. “Oh, no. George did my tattoos.”
“Who's George?”
Klaus blinked, once, it was so unnerving. “A tattoo artist.”
Patrick breathed out, trying to calm himself down from the bubbling anger. “Where did he work?” Patrick asked.
Klaus shrugged. “No idea.”
“How'd you meet him?”
“I was buying meth from some guy in Crenshaw, and George was hanging around, he convinced me to let him tattoo me. Almost got them on my ass but he talked me out of it.”
Patrick found himself laughing. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, thought it would've been funny, but most people wouldn't even see them. And now I don't have to talk to people to say hello.” He held up his right hand to emphasize his point.
“What happened to George?”
Klaus shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“I mean he's still hanging around like the others, but I don't talk to them much.”
Others? “I've never seen you talk to anyone who isn't your siblings or Dave.”
“I don’t talk to them much anymore.”
“Because you're trying to stay sober?” He knew that, but it was hard to believe.
“Most people don't want to see them,” he added, like he was completely ignoring Patrick.
“I wonder why,” Patrick muttered.
Klaus shrugged. “Anyway I almost got another tattoo from George but he'd already moved on.”
“To where?” Patrick asked.
Klaus shrugged. “I mean he definitely killed people, so Hell, probably.”
George was a ghost?!
Patrick blinked rapidly and tried to process that information.
Their walk continued on in silence until Klaus slowed down. Patrick wasn't even sure where he intended on taking them, it could be something innocuous, or Allison had ordered a hit out on Patrick and Klaus was his assassin.
“Toys.”
“Toys?”
“Right?”
“Sure?” Patrick had no idea what was going on until a hand wrapped itself around his wrist.
It took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to pull away, surely offending the man who talked to ghosts and was trained to murder was a terrible idea.
Klaus pulled him along, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so frail looking.
It wasn't until the automatic doors closed behind him that Patrick realized they were now in a toy store. He could've sworn he heard Klaus say ‘unicorns’ before he was dragged up and down various aisles before he stopped. Patrick, still moving at the pace Klaus kept, stumbled into him, sending them crashing to the ground.
“Dammit,” Klaus muttered. “I keep telling people I only heal when I die.”
Patrick stood up first and held out a hand. “You ok?”
Klaus took his hand and let himself be lifted up. “Yeah.” He brushed his hands over his arms as if brushing off any dirt or potential injuries. Then he spun around and Patrick followed his gaze.
“Oh, no.”
A massive box lifted itself off the shelf and Klaus took it from thin air, his hands glowing faintly for a second before they faded to their normal color. Patrick could've sworn he saw excitement on Klaus' face, but the only change was a slight upturn of his mouth and an odd glimmer in his eyes. “She likes unciorns." It was a statement, one Patrick didn't like at all despite the truth in it.
Patrick ran a hand down his face as a white unicorn stared back at him. “No,” Patrick mumbled again. His hand remained pressed against his mouth as his eyes took in the rest of the image. Wheels on the hooves, hidden by rainbow fur, the mane the same rainbow color. A silver colored horn graced its forehead, two handles sticking out from its neck and a child smiling happily as it sat upon the unicorn's back.
Klaus lowered the box slightly. “No?” He looked around. “Shit,” he mumbled, and Patrick hissed an apology as a kid walked by with his mom who glared at them.
“You can't curse in a toy store.”
Klaus sighed. “There's a regular horse."
"What?"
"What else can I get her, then?"
Patrick blinked. “You're trying to bribe my daughter?”
Klaus tilted his head to the side slightly. “Yes.”
Patrick couldn't help but laugh.
–
Klaus watched with mild amusement as Dave, Diego, and Luther sat on the living room floor trying to get the unicorn together.
Patrick sat next to him after Klaus placed a hand on his wrist. Sure, he might not care much about Patrick, but it was a small gesture that might get Klaus into his good graces. Judging by the attempt at hiding a smile it was working.
It was easy enough to convince Dave to help, and then all Klaus had to do was ask Luther with Diego in earshot, and then Diego insisted on helping.
Dave was, naturally, the only one doing anything, while Luther and Diego bickered about what was supposed to go where and who could screw what.
By the time they were done arguing the unicorn was completed and Dave proudly wheeled it over to Klaus and Patrick.
“Thanks,” Klaus said, standing up and kissing Dave. Dave smiled and pressed another kiss to Klaus' forehead.
“Of course, darlin’.”
“Thanks, Dave,” Patrick said.
Dave hesitated a moment, still upset by Klaus getting knocked over, even though he hadn't even bruised, before he smiled. “Yeah, no problem.”
Now it was just a waiting game. Allison had taken Claire to the park with her to keep the unicorn a surprise.
So Klaus waited, sitting on the couch, head in Dave's lap.
The door creaked open and Klaus sat up.
Claire came running into the living room and squealed. She hugged the unicorn tightly around the neck and Klaus watched as she clambered on top of it, she immediately began riding it, the wheel rolling her along the floor.
Klaus looked at Dave first, and at a smiling Patrick and Allison, before he felt his mouth turn up into its own smile.
“Thank you!” Claire said excitedly, riding towards her parents.
“Thank your Uncle Klaus, he bought it for you.”
Claire turned to look at him, nose flared and eyes wide. Her little hands gripped the handles on the side of the unicorn's head.
Klaus’ smile faltered, even as Claire mumbled the softest, quietest, ‘thank you’ he'd ever heard.
“You're welcome,” he said, leaning back against the couch.
Claire didn't move for a few minutes, even as Allison and Patrick encouraged her to continue playing with it, and Klaus just blocked it all out.
–
Klaus was sitting on the kitchen table, fingers swirling around in his glass of water. It was dark, both because it was three in the morning, and because he hadn't bothered to turn the lights on.
Dave was asleep, and Klaus couldn't sleep, so he extracted himself from Dave's arms and came downstairs.
His ears perked up at the sound of a soft thud and a sniffle.
Klaus downed the glass of water and slid off the table, letting his ears guide him to where the sound came from.
A small figure sat at the bottom of the stairs, and at first Klaus was sure it was Five, they were clearly too small.
"Claire?"
–
Claire couldn't see in the dark. She was thirsty and she didn't want to wake mommy or daddy, and she was a big girl so she could go get her own water.
Except she missed a step and fell down so hard it rattled her teeth. She began to cry, covering her mouth with her hands to stop from being too loud.
She didn't want to get in trouble. She sniffed and tried to calm down but it just made it all worse and she felt her tears fall around her hands.
Then she heard it. A weird shuffling sound from somewhere in the dark. She squeaked and sat completely still as part of the darkness in front of her got even darker. She sniffled again, and she knew it wasn't a monster, mommy and her uncles fought monsters, and ghosts wouldn't hurt her, but-
“Claire?”
“W-who's there?” she squeaked out, trying to be as brave as possible.
It was silent for ten Mississippis and Claire started to get more scared.
“It's Klaus,” the voice said, sounding soft but flat.
Claire swallowed nervously. Uncle Klaus was… she knew he was nice, and that he protected her from ghosts, but he was still… scary.
“I can get your mom, if you want. Just stay put.”
“No!” Claire whisper-yelled, dropping her hands. Mommy would be upset she snuck out of bed, and then daddy would be upset with mommy, and then Claire might not get to see mommy again for months. She didn't even know why, Claire wanted to see mommy! But the last time they argued Claire couldn't.
Uncle Klaus stopped moving and it was too quiet again.
“Why are you awake?” he asked, and Claire couldn't tell if he was upset, but he probably was.
She hiccuped a bit, and sniffled again even. “I was thirsty, I know I'm not s'posed t-to be up. I'm sorry.”
Another five Mississipis of silence.
“It's ok I'm not supposed to be up either,” he said, which made Claire giggle. “Let's get you some water, ok?”
Claire could see a little bit better now, and the shadowy shape looked more like Uncle Klaus and less like a shadow monster. She padded over to him and patted his hip and arm before she found his hand.
Uncle Klaus let out a little gasp, and he gently squeezed her hand. Claire squeezed it back before she was led into the kitchen.
They stopped by where Claire knew the light switch was. Uncle Klaus seemed to not remember how to turn it on, and Claire did not want to be in the dark anymore!
She reached up with her free hand and flicked the light on, and let out a sigh, glad she could see properly. Everything was less scary in the light. She looked up at Uncle Klaus. “Were you thirsty too, Uncle Klaus?”
He sat her down at the table while he got a glass from the cabinet, and filled it with water.
“No.”
Claire frowned, looking at the glass on the table. “But you had a drink.”
“Yes.”
Claire scrunched her nose, that didn't make any sense. “You're weird.” Her hands immediately went to her mouth. He'd be upset with her for sure.
But Uncle Klaus said "mhmm" and placed a glass of water in front of her and then sat in the chair across from her.
Claire looked at the glass and grabbed it with both hands, taking a sip of the water. Uncle Klaus wouldn't look at her, even when she tried to catch his eye.
She finally managed it and he showed Claire his teeth in some kind of weird, scary smile, and Claire tried not to look away.
“Did someone punch you?” Claire asked instead, pointing to the dark spots under his eyes.
“Not recently,” Klaus said before saying a bad word under his breath that Claire pretended not to hear.
“Then did you forget to wash your makeup off? Mommy does that sometimes and it looks like that.”
“That's just what happens when you don't sleep properly for twenty years,” Uncle Klaus said.
Claire’s eyes went wide and her hand immediately went to her face. She wasn't sleeping properly, would she get those dark spots too?!
“You don't look old enough to have not slept in twenty years, I think you're ok,” Klaus said, and Claire giggled and her hand went back to her glass.
“Phew.”
They sat in silence as Claire sipped her water, her feet kicking back forth. She accidentally hit Uncle Klaus' leg. Her eyes widened, but Uncle Klaus didn't even seem to notice.
She wondered if it was part of his powers. She did it again, and then a few more times before Uncle Klaus pulled his legs away, but he didn't seem upset. “Still thirsty?” Uncle Klaus asked.
Claire glanced at her empty glass, then at Uncle Klaus before nodding. Klaus unfolded kind of like a piece of paper and grabbed the glass with the tips of his long fingers and filled it with more water, letting it thunk gently onto the table. “What happened to your arm?” Claire asked, noticing the scars all over them. She had one on her knee from when she fell off her bike, maybe that's what happened just a lot.
Uncle Klaus brushed his fingers against them. “Needles,” he said.
Claire's face scrunched up. She hated needles, luckily she didn't need them anymore for awhile. “Were you sick? Daddy said you were sick. Is that why you're so…” she pressed a hand to her mouth, not wanting to upset him.
Uncle Klaus tilted his head to the side, looking kind of like the Watkins’ dog next. “Yes… I was.”
“And you're all better now?”
He brushed his finger along his lower lip. “Not all better.”
“But better?”
“Yeah, better.”
Claire smiled at him. "Good," she said sternly. She hated being sick.
Uncle Klaus smiled back. Well it was more of a half smile, but it still counted.
“Mommy told me you talk to ghosts."
Uncle Klaus hummed in acknowledgement, drawing circles into the table with his nail.
“Are they scary?” She bet they were. Though mommy said Uncle Klaus wasn't scared of ghosts, and she wasn't either!
“Some of them.”
Claire rested her chin on the rim of her glass. “Are they mean?”
“Sometimes,” he said.
“Mommy said you were friends with them.”
Uncle Klaus’ face twitched weirdly. “I talked to them sometimes,” he said instead. “They're not all mean and scary.”
(Klaus, meanwhile, didn't think this was a good topic of conversation. He doubted Allison wanted Claire thinking about ghosts, or wanting to… play with ghosts? Even under the best circumstances Child deaths were depressing.)
“Are there any here now?” Claire didn't really know how his powers worked, were they here all the time, or only when Uncle Klaus wanted them to be?
“No.”
“You can tell me the truth, ghosts don't scare me.”
Uncle Klaus’ hand moved and he looked around the kitchen. She couldn't see anything, but Uncle Klaus’ eyes occasionally stopped on something.
His hand twitched again. “No ghosts, just checked.”
“Liar.”
(It'd been a while since someone called Klaus that.
He didn't miss it.
Even if it was often true.)
Claire huffed. “I'm really not scared of ghosts.”
“How brave.”
Claire puffed out her cheeks, because it was true. “Yeah. I'm the only one in my whole class who isn't scared of Melissa's stories!”
“Melissa is your… teacher?”
“Ugh. Melissa Richins, she's my friend.” Claire huffed and leaned forward. “Once she told us this story about a ghost who kidnapped little girls because her daughter got lost in the woods, and she drew this picture and it was really scary, and then I had a nightmare about her kidnapping me.
“Mommy heard me crying, and she told me that I don't have to worry about ghosts because you wouldn't let them hurt me.”
Uncle Klaus nodded. “But you were scared of me… ” Uncle Klaus’ eyes went wide in surprise.
(Klaus missed smoking.
Not that he would in front of Claire.)
“Yeah,” Claire said softly. “I'm sorry.”
“It's ok, I am scary.”
Claire looked at him and nodded a little, feeling embarrassed. He really wasn't scary. He got her a glass of water, and that cool unicorn that she could ride on, and he always waved at her! “Mommy says you're not, but you look like a Halloween decoration.”
“Don't tell anyone you said that, please.”
(Klaus didn't want anyone to prop him on the front lawn to scare people.
Especially because it would probably work.)
Claire ran two fingers across lips like a zipper and winked at him, though she didn't know why it mattered so much.
Uncle Klaus gave her a thumbs up and Claire smiled at him.
–
Allison was panicking. She went to the bathroom then to check on Claire in the morning, expecting to see her sound asleep, or maybe playing with her toys.
Instead her bed was empty.
“Where could she have gone?” Patrick asked, clearly trying to sound calm despite the anger simmering underneath the surface.
“I don't know,” she said, her heart racing. “The kitchen, maybe she woke up early and wanted a snack.”
She ran downstairs, and skidded into the kitchen to find it empty sans a messy haired Five, still half asleep and cradling coffee in his hands.
“Have you seen-” Five gestured towards the kitchen door, and Allison ran, making her way back to the front of the house.
In the living room, Claire sprawled on top of Klaus, both fast asleep.
Patrick was right behind Allison when they saw them.
Patrick visibly relaxed, and Allison smiled at the scene before her, wishing she had a camera.
“Can you get her? My arm fell asleep “
Allison huffed out a laugh and carefully picked up the still sleeping Claire, as Klaus slowly sat up, shaking his arm out.
“Guess she's not scared of you anymore?”
“I just got her some water. Not my best bribe,” he said flatly, letting one arm rest along the back of the couch, the other hand resting gently on Claire’s back.
Allison smiled and ruffled Klaus’ hair. “It was only a matter of time.”