Klaus Hargreeves (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} quattuor) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} snapthread,@ 2019-03-09 08:01:00 |
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| Entry tags: | diego hargreeves (netflix), klaus hargreeves (netflix) |
WHO: Klaus Hargreeves (and) Diego Hargreeves.
WHAT: His arrival, which is not very chill sorry to say.
WHERE: An alley.
WHEN: March 8.
RATING: Some swearing, some Ben-shaped spoilers, end-of-season spoilers.
They'd managed to break the moon. That alone was worthy of a few moment's of silence, even as his mind raced a million thoughts at several thousand miles an hour, because fucking up so gloriously and magnificently was usually his thing. Klaus was the one who readily fucked up, and learned to roll with the blows as he whispered empty apologies and readily tried to move the fuck on with his life somehow. Not the others. They were supposed to have their shit together, but now there was a giant hole in the moon and giant ass rocks were barreling down and were going to snuff out all life on Earth, so really, who was to blame? Them? The one-eyed man? Daddy Hargreeves? Or knock-off Blossom in the sky?
Or just fucking karma?
"Oh God." Dramatically, he drew in a deep breath, hooked one finger around the waist of his pants and peeked at his dick. Still there. Good, good. Everything seemed in working order, he hadn't turned into his thirteen year old self - but for good measure, he stroked his face, and visibly relaxed when he felt a prominent three day old stubble - definitely hadn't turned into his thirteen year old self, thank God. "I vote we never do that again."
But there wasn't a chorus of anything following that statement, and he looked around, eyes still ever so slightly wide, and quickly widening in sheer panic. Panic gripped his heart. No [...] He swallowed hard, ignored his heart who was keeping time with a coffee grinder, and grabbed a fistful of dog tags. No no no no no nononononononono-
"One!" And he went down the line, barely remembering to skip his own number, almost exactly as old man Hargreeves would have done. Almost. Because he called out for Seven as well, and even uttered a much quieter, hushed Da- before he swallowed that name. But it didn't fucking matter, did it? He jerked, and let the dog tags fall against his chest. Then he clawed at thin air, where Ben should have been and where he'd been all along, through high and low. Except he wasn't.
He'd lost Ben. There was no trace of the others. And he was alone. Again. "I need a drink."
Or just fucking karma?
"Oh God." Dramatically, he drew in a deep breath, hooked one finger around the waist of his pants and peeked at his dick. Still there. Good, good. Everything seemed in working order, he hadn't turned into his thirteen year old self - but for good measure, he stroked his face, and visibly relaxed when he felt a prominent three day old stubble - definitely hadn't turned into his thirteen year old self, thank God. "I vote we never do that again."
But there wasn't a chorus of anything following that statement, and he looked around, eyes still ever so slightly wide, and quickly widening in sheer panic. Panic gripped his heart. No [...] He swallowed hard, ignored his heart who was keeping time with a coffee grinder, and grabbed a fistful of dog tags. No no no no no nononononononono-
"One!" And he went down the line, barely remembering to skip his own number, almost exactly as old man Hargreeves would have done. Almost. Because he called out for Seven as well, and even uttered a much quieter, hushed Da- before he swallowed that name. But it didn't fucking matter, did it? He jerked, and let the dog tags fall against his chest. Then he clawed at thin air, where Ben should have been and where he'd been all along, through high and low. Except he wasn't.
He'd lost Ben. There was no trace of the others. And he was alone. Again. "I need a drink."