The family was falling apart.
Not like they were all that together to begin with, Klaus thought idly, striking a match and watching it burst into flame. He stooped to light the first candle in a half-circle on the ground.
Worst of all, they were beginning to become concerned for him. He had been drinking and smoking far more than he usually did, but if they really gave a shit they would've noticed that
And they surely didn't know about the drugs, right? He was the only one in the academy with any sort of mental power. He was almost completely certain Pogo knew at least, but he seemed to want Klaus to tell the rest of the family on his own accord. Like that would ever happen.
The half-circle was entirely lit now, the black candles giving his white skin an eerie orange glow. Shadows flickered over the large statue they surrounded.
Klaus floated over the candles, mindful of his jacket tails, and settled comfortably in the middle, legs crossed and eyes turned upward at the statue.
He produced a carton of cigarettes, and proceeded to light one on the candle closest to him. "I know you can hear me." He said to the statue, a white wisp of smoke escaping from between his lips.
No response, except from the lone cricket cricking away into the night a small ways away.
Klaus frowned, taking off his sunglasses and glaring. "Damnit, Ben, I know you can hear me. Stop ignoring me, you asshole." He paused, calmly puffing on the cigarette while waiting for the response that should come. Would come.
"You are a real fucking asshole, Ben. You can't just go and die like that and then ignore me like this. It's rude." Another pause as one of the candles flickered out. Klaus, blessed with the gift of a medium, knew there was nothing supernatural about that. Just the wind. "Do you know how many times I've come out here? Allison actually asked me today if I was alright. Of course I'm not alright. You're dead."
It had been nearly a month since Horror had died. Been nearly a month since the tension in the academy had become nearly unbearable. Nearly a month since Klaus had started trying to talk to him. And every time, Ben never talked back.
Klaus straightened his legs out. "Fine. Don't talk to me. But I know you can hear me. I know you can hear me, god why can't you hear me?" He ran a hand through and tugged desprately at his hair. And he was not crying. He was not crying at all.
"Klaus...? Klaus, please don't cry..." And Klaus was suddenly freezing cold.
Klaus choked out a dry laugh, head still in hands. "You always were a hugger, Benji."
The cold feeling disappeared, and the soft voice spoke again. "You're being a jerk to Luther. It wasn't his fault, y'know."
"It was." Klaus mumbled, putting out his cigarette.
"I'm alright, though. You don't gotta keep worrying about me. I'm sorry, but I was mad at you. You should stop snapping at them, they didn't do anything."
Klaus leaned his head foward, finding the cold embrace again. "I know. That's the problem."
"...I gotta go, Klaus," The cold air murmered, "I think I have an appointment."
"It's fine." Klaus replied, moving away, hand unconciously moving to fix his hair.
"Klaus, please, please promise me that you'll get clean. I was worried about you when I was alive and I'm even more worried now."
There was a pause, and a cold breeze enveloped his face, a small pressure barely noticable upon his lips. "Love you."
There was a rush, not of wind, but of something else, and Ben was gone.
Klaus sat there for a moment longer, picking at his crushed out cigarette. Of course, he had no intention to keep his promise to Ben.
Klaus floated upwards, all the candles suddenly blowing themselves out with barely any effort on his part.
Maybe the comatose ward would take him in.