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It started how it always started."Fuck off, Ben.""Can't. Remember?" "So then, just go in the other room.""No.""Yes.""No.""Ben. I'm really not in the mood.""...Fine." After his brother had left him, Klaus turned over and pulled the comforter over his head. He hated this. He hated his power. He hated his life.Most importantly, he hated being sober.The screams.The taunts.The...everything.He sighed heavily and threw back the covers, instantly hot."Ben...Will you come back?"Hearing the sigh of resignation, he watched as his brother came back."What's wrong?" Ben was sitting on the edge of the bed, not indent or markings that he was. No dip in the matress.Of course not, being dead and all. Ben understood some of how Klaus worked, the highs and lows. The anger at their father and the pity for their mother. He watched how Klaus would live and die and manage. This was a low moment, when the voices that screamed scared him so much that he was like that kid their father had locked up to teach him to not be afraid. Klaus shook a bit and whimpered. "Don't leave me alone."Ben's hand ghosted over his back, leaving him with a chill.It would never be warm again, but it was comfort nonetheless. "I won't."