❝ He didn’t entertain them! He kind of just…went with the flow of things. ❞ Mainly because he couldn’t escape Klaus, but that’s besides the point. That’s a little detail that doesn’t need to be transferred over to Ben. The egotistical fuck couldn’t handle it, probably. He’d probably cry himself to sleep at night if he knew how soft their Ben was. How he didn’t even like violence or the thing that came out of him. How he had been his conscience for so long. How…
Klaus shakes the thoughts away. He doesn’t want to deal with them, not now. Not when he’s got his head on straight ––– or as straight as he can get it. Sobriety has done him no favors on that front –– confronting the pain has given an ache in his soul that he can’t quite shake and he hates it. Hates it more than he probably should, really, but when did they ever have any sort of healthy coping mechanisms instilled on them? Reginald didn’t exactly feel the need to TEACH THEM ACTUAL SOCIAL SKILLS.
❝ Actually….I don’t know what Ben liked. ❞ For a change, his voice comes out quiet. As close as he was with his brother, in both life and death, he has no idea what the answer to that question is. When they were kids they ate whatever was on the table in silence, because if they didn’t they’d get the punishment that Reginald thought they deserved. Dinner wasn’t full of lively conversations and chats about their days –– it was filled with a record on and dead silence from them all. Usually him rolling a joint underneath the table for later use –– even back then it was a way to keep the ghouls at bay.
Again, that familiar sting races through him, that absence that Ben has left him with. He’s happy his brother has found peace –– he just misses him. All these years he hasn’t had to grieve because he was right there –– and now he’s just gone. Now there’s no one to talk to day in and day out who knows every awful thing he’s done, and hasn’t had a way to leave him for it. Except for now. That shudder moves up his spine and his fingers flex, and he pushes into his jacket a little tighter. It does nothing –– the front is open because he will not give up his fashion for some comfort.
❝ Cep….that is a very big word that we are not going to entertain because you are a smarty mcsmart smart. ❞ Klaus sticks his tongue out, dances ahead of him, turns on his heel, and begins to walk backward toward the door. There’s displeasure racing across his features at the word, but there’s a whispered hope running through his chest. It’s easier to sway Ben to his side, he thinks. Not because of his charm or anything like that, but because he’s persistent. It’s hard to shake Klaus off once he’s got you in his sights.
Klaus hums in his throat as he presses his back against the door and steps outside, squinting into the bright city lights that are surrounding them.
❝ Y’see, that’s not going to work for me. But that’s the wonderful thing about who we are! We can do what we want, when we want, how we want, dear brother. ❞ It’s a slip of the tongue but he doesn’t take it back, instead throws his arm around his shoulders again. ❝ You ever dine and dash or are you a goodey two shoes who has no fun? ❞
❝ You don’t know? ❞ He repeats, his expression softening ever so slightly when Klaus goes quieter. ❝ The way you talk about him I would’ve mistaken the two of you for close. ❞ Klaus going quieter is odd. Not that he’s loud normally — in fact Klaus seems to be one of the more soft-spoken of the Umbrella siblings. Somehow. For all the theatrics he pulls he doesn’t seem to raise his voice much. So Ben doesn’t feel any sense of accomplishment for provoking a softer response or for the bout of silence that follows the words, the unmasked look of anguish that flickers through the medium’s expression. It’s different from the look the rest of Klaus’ siblings give him. They look at him in this bizarre mix of having seen a ghost and excitement at their long-lost sibling only to have their hope shattered when they remember that he’s Not Their Ben.
When Klaus looks at him it’s like there’s none of that shock value though. There’s this sense that Klaus knows exactly who he’s looking at - not the brother he lost, but a suitable brother replacement. It both hurts and frustrates Ben in a way he can’t even begin to convey because for as much as he knows that Klaus is just using him to fill a void, he’s used to being used. That’s always been the dynamic of his family; stepping on and over each other to get ahead. Throwing each other under the bus for a scrap of praise from their father. The Sparrows are loyal to each other more for the sake of the convenience of their job than out of familial obligation. The Umbrellas aren’t like that. Not when all six of them are mutually still hung-up on a sibling who died half their lifetime ago. He hates that for first time in his life he's seeing something that he wants and he’s powerless to demand it be given to him. Not only because these are strangers — the Enemy — but because these people are also a threat to his family’s control of the city. They’re a threat to his sense of normalcy.
... So why is it that he’s now so conflicted between his desire for supremacy and his sudden longing the understand the bond that this chaotic bunch of misfits have for each other? ( to understand what he’s missing, is the simplest answer. even when he wasn’t sure how to convey it tangibly - Something has always been Missing. ) It’s pathetic. It makes him feel weak. And yet for some unfathomable reason he can’t quite seem to shake himself out of it. Even his rampant stubbornness can’t quash the small glimmer of hope he feels.
❝ Ce – pha – lo – po – dic. ❞ he repeats slowly in emphasis as though it’s the most obvious word in the world. ( It certainly is in his world, so why shouldn’t it be in everyone else’s? The world is familiar with what The Sparrows can do, so there’s no excuse for ignorance. ) ❝ Belonging to or resembling cephalopods. Don’t you read? ❞ He huffs a light breath that isn’t quite a scoff but borders on one and leans back on his heels just slightly. He tilts his head upwards, ignoring the slight height difference between them, trying to seem taller than he is. ❝ Octopus, squid, cuttlefish, nautilus. All cephalopods. – Surely you must have a basic understanding of what’s inside me? You and your runt brother are the only people I’ve faced off against who didn’t look absolutely revolted and appalled to see additional limbs sprouting. ❞ ( Not counting his own siblings of course. The added tendrils were just an extension of Ben’s body, the same way Fei’s crows were part of theirs. The same way Alphonso’s appearance had morphed over the years. The same way Jayme’s saliva was only hallucinogenic when she wanted it to be. The same way Christopher was still their brother even while all that remained was his essence imprisoned in some sort of technologically advanced cube that their father had forbade them from questioning. Their powers are who they are and it makes Sense. ... right? )
❝ Like you’ve already seen them before. ❞ It’s rhetorical, a hint of sarcasm. Of course they have. That’s the frustrating part, isn’t it? They know all about his powers and he has only the minimal understanding of theirs from a brief demonstration. ... He’s making himself more transparent than he should be.
( And okay, he hadn’t really ‘ faced off against ’ Klaus so much as punched him in the face and later grabbed him with a tentacle and squeezed him a bit. Ben had been confused and angry, to the point that he couldn’t tell if the whole recognition thing was some kind of elaborate prank or a test from their father. The little one could fight but was definitely pulling his punches and Klaus showed no sign of his powers regardless of how hard Ben had tried to crush his windpipe. He’d figured it was mockery at the time but now he’s fairly certain the dipshit has very little self-preservation instinct. )
Ben winces and shields his eyes with one hand as sunlight suddenly floods his vision. He blinks several times as he waits for his vision to adjust but walks in the general direction Klaus headed. Actually he’s almost relieved that Klaus throws an arm around him yet again to steady him before he can make a fool out of himself in disorientation. ... Until Klaus calls him brother. Says it so casually, so second nature that Ben knows that Klaus isn’t talking to him. He grits his teeth and twists out of the medium’s grip, fixing him with a fiery-eyed glare.
❝ Look, ❞ he sneers wryly. his tone stilted. It’s taking more of his willpower than it should not to simply slam his fist into the other male’s face for emphasis. ( The fact that Klaus would probably just take it makes it less tempting. There’s no satisfaction in hitting a defenseless target. ) ❝ I’m fine with this whole civil niceties game you’re playing. ❞ he wags a finger inches from Klaus’ face. ❝ But if you’re looking for your dead brother, look elsewhere. I’m not him. ❞
He hates that it comes out sounding more bitter than threatening, and the fingers of the free hand at his side flex in nervous energy. More so he hates that he can’t bring himself to say ❛ I’m not your brother. ❜ Can only say that he isn’t that Ben that he knows Klaus would much rather have around than him.