terriblymisguided (
terriblymisguided) wrote2022-06-27 02:02 pm
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death is but the next great adventure
Klaus has a funny relationship with death. Mostly, he's a little surprised that after a childhood spent being a rather worthless superhero, followed by over a decade of addiction and one stupid decision after another, death hasn't come for him yet. It's sort of a miracle that he's even stayed alive this long, given the circumstances .
There have been close calls, of course. Perhaps none closer than that night with Luther where he struck his head against a cement floor and went to wherever that was where he spoke with that bitchy child and his bitchier father.
It had even gotten to the point where Klaus thought that maybe he'd end up cheating death entirely, but it seems that he was wrong about that. Death will come for him. He thinks maybe it's coming for him now.
Death is at the front of his mind, but that isn't surprising. What else is there to think about when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk?
It all happens very fast.
Klaus is walking along the street, sipping iced coffee and gesticulating wildly as he recounts an embellished story about a drag king he'd befriended in Amsterdam, when suddenly there's a wild cacophony of sound. A peaceful afternoon is disrupted when a car runs a red light and crashes into the side of another car, sending it spinning wildly into the front of a bakery just a few yards from where they're standing.
Glass and metal explode outward and litter the ground, which startles Klaus enough that he drops his iced coffee. The plastic breaks as it hits the pavement and the coffee spills, sending the liquid outward to follow the patterns of cracks and grooves in the sidewalk.
"That was a close one, huh?" Klaus says to the person next to him, but his voice sounds strange. His throat tickles and when he tries to clear it, the taste of copper fills his mouth and he coughs a little in surprise, blinking as blood trickles out from the corner of his mouth.
He hears a scream and coughs again, starting to shake as he tips his head down to look at his chest. There's so much blood there suddenly, pumping out of a hole in his chest and staining the thin pink tee that he's wearing. It spreads outwards like the coffee on the ground, growing and taking over whatever dry space it can reach.
Klaus reaches up to touch his trembling fingers to the edge of the jagged wound, coughing again as he slowly turns to look behind him. There's a piece of metal on the ground, rebar shrapnel, and it too is covered in crimson red. “Fuck.”
It's only once he realizes what's happened that it starts to hurt, and he feels like a child that's fallen down but doesn't start to cry until he spots the blood on his knee. It hurts so bad that Klaus can't breathe, or maybe that's because his lungs are filling up with blood.
He gives the person next to him a panicked look and then stumbles backwards, collapsing back onto the pavement and staring up at the sky. There's blood in his throat, pooling in his mouth until he chokes, and a part of him wants to laugh.
All those dangerous missions, all those years ruining himself with drugs. Multiple apocalypses. Frontline combat in Vietnam. All of that and this is how he's going to go-- random happenstance. A horrible accident. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so fucking depressing.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out to the person kneeling at his side, because he loves them and he doesn't want them to have to deal with this. He doesn't want to leave them, but everything is getting dark and cold and he's being called away to somewhere else.
Death is pulling him away, sick of being cheated out of the chance to reap Klaus Hargreeves, and this time, he can't seem to fight it.
This time, he has to go, even though it's the most that he's ever wanted to stay.
There have been close calls, of course. Perhaps none closer than that night with Luther where he struck his head against a cement floor and went to wherever that was where he spoke with that bitchy child and his bitchier father.
It had even gotten to the point where Klaus thought that maybe he'd end up cheating death entirely, but it seems that he was wrong about that. Death will come for him. He thinks maybe it's coming for him now.
Death is at the front of his mind, but that isn't surprising. What else is there to think about when you're bleeding out on the sidewalk?
It all happens very fast.
Klaus is walking along the street, sipping iced coffee and gesticulating wildly as he recounts an embellished story about a drag king he'd befriended in Amsterdam, when suddenly there's a wild cacophony of sound. A peaceful afternoon is disrupted when a car runs a red light and crashes into the side of another car, sending it spinning wildly into the front of a bakery just a few yards from where they're standing.
Glass and metal explode outward and litter the ground, which startles Klaus enough that he drops his iced coffee. The plastic breaks as it hits the pavement and the coffee spills, sending the liquid outward to follow the patterns of cracks and grooves in the sidewalk.
"That was a close one, huh?" Klaus says to the person next to him, but his voice sounds strange. His throat tickles and when he tries to clear it, the taste of copper fills his mouth and he coughs a little in surprise, blinking as blood trickles out from the corner of his mouth.
He hears a scream and coughs again, starting to shake as he tips his head down to look at his chest. There's so much blood there suddenly, pumping out of a hole in his chest and staining the thin pink tee that he's wearing. It spreads outwards like the coffee on the ground, growing and taking over whatever dry space it can reach.
Klaus reaches up to touch his trembling fingers to the edge of the jagged wound, coughing again as he slowly turns to look behind him. There's a piece of metal on the ground, rebar shrapnel, and it too is covered in crimson red. “Fuck.”
It's only once he realizes what's happened that it starts to hurt, and he feels like a child that's fallen down but doesn't start to cry until he spots the blood on his knee. It hurts so bad that Klaus can't breathe, or maybe that's because his lungs are filling up with blood.
He gives the person next to him a panicked look and then stumbles backwards, collapsing back onto the pavement and staring up at the sky. There's blood in his throat, pooling in his mouth until he chokes, and a part of him wants to laugh.
All those dangerous missions, all those years ruining himself with drugs. Multiple apocalypses. Frontline combat in Vietnam. All of that and this is how he's going to go-- random happenstance. A horrible accident. It'd be hilarious if it wasn't so fucking depressing.
"I'm sorry," he chokes out to the person kneeling at his side, because he loves them and he doesn't want them to have to deal with this. He doesn't want to leave them, but everything is getting dark and cold and he's being called away to somewhere else.
Death is pulling him away, sick of being cheated out of the chance to reap Klaus Hargreeves, and this time, he can't seem to fight it.
This time, he has to go, even though it's the most that he's ever wanted to stay.
no subject
But that goes away as Nathan shoves him over on the pavement, sending him rolling over into a small pool of his own blood, made hot and sticky from the pavement.
"Jesus Christ, man," he says after he spits the blood out of his mouth, groaning as he curls into a fetal position and shakes on the pavement like the worst sort of comedown. "What the fuck did you do?"
no subject
He doesn't care. His words say he cares, but his tone doesn't say anything even close to that, and neither do his arms when he seizes Klaus again and pulls him into a crushing hug. There's blood everywhere, but whatever, it's hardly the first time Nathan will go home covered in blood.
"I thought you were dead for good, you prick!" he nearly shouts into Klaus's ear.
no subject
"I'm older so obviously you're the--" He's cut off by Nathan pulling him into a sudden hug, and Klaus's brows furrow in confusion as he rests his chin on Nathan's shoulder, unused to being hugged in such a way. At the sudden boom of Nathan's voice in his ear, Klaus lifts his arms arms to hug him back. He seems very upset, and Klaus is sort of touched.
"Looks like we're more alike than we thought," Klaus says weakly, reaching one hand up to cup the back of Nathan's head. It feels a little like hugging one of his brothers. "I'm not going anywhere, babe."
no subject
He'll be proud enough just to tell Abby it isn't his blood this time around.
"So now we're twins and we can see ghosts and we're both immortal? I'm pretty sure you're me from the future." Nathan just doesn't see any other option. Klaus just changed his name obviously.
no subject
Is Nathan actually Klaus from a different timeline? A version of him that either stayed with his birth parents or was adopted by someone other than Reginald Hargreeves?
"What year were you born?" He asks Nathan with wide eyes, keeping a bloody hand on the side of his neck. "Maybe you are me. Kind of."
no subject
"1989," he says slowly and carefully, as if he's being tested somehow. As if he might say the wrong thing and spontaneously implode because two versions of the same person can't just exist in the same space and time. It's not possible.
Nathan doesn't know how he knows this, only that he does.
no subject
"That's when I was born, too," he whines out, staring at Nathan with a wide-eyed, confused expression. "Oh my god." He tips his head back and lets out a pitiful huff up at the sky. "We're the saaaame."
no subject
He's not sure why this is so weird to him. They look exactly the same, but being the same is something else entirely and he doesn't like that. He wants to be his own person.
"So we celebrate together in March now? I don't want t'share my birthday and my face!"
no subject
"Wait, March? What do you mean, March?" Klaus lets out a bark of relieved laughter and reaches out to cup Nathan's cheeks again, squeezing until his lips purse out. "I was born in October. So maybe we're not the same!"
He leans in to press a hard kiss to Nathan's smushed lips and then pats his cheeks a few times before letting go and attempting to pull himself to his feet. "We should probably talk to my brother."
no subject
"Which brother? Why? The big one? Or the tiny one? Or the teenaged one? There's one like that, right?"
Honestly, Nathan has never bothered to keep track.
no subject
Thankfully they aren't far from the house, considering he'd only left to get a damn cup of coffee, so he takes in a deep breath and turns them the right direction. "Help me get back home, okay? Maybe he'll be there. Never tell him that I said this, but he's the smartest of all of us."