Mostly sober. After he said it, he felt as if he had told a lie. Or maybe he just wants it to be true. His drug use has tapered off to lots of weed and the odd pill here and there, and his drinking isn't excessive these days, but he isn't sober. No one who puts whiskey in their coffee in the morning can be called mostly sober. But he's kind of leveled out. He isn't a stumbling mess. He's trying.

But he thinks that Obi-Wan understands that. Obi has also never seen him truly out of it. Happily drunk and a little high, yes, but never a strung out mess. Klaus never wants him to see that. He never wants to be that, not again.

Klaus listens to Obi-Wan speak with a wistful sort of smile. He's never given much thought to his real mother, the one who sold him to Reginald. He wants to hate her for doing that to him, but he can't. Suddenly giving birth to an unplanned baby that you didn't even carry around for nine months is probably traumatic enough.

"I don't know if my birth mother ever had more children," Klaus says with a shrug, brow furrowed thoughtfully as he reaches for another taco. "I don't think much about her at all, really."

He takes a bite and studies Obi-Wan, smirking a little as he swallows. "I suppose it wouldn't have been the Jedi way to go look for them once you had grown."