Chapter Text
In all honesty, rehab fucking sucks.
Well, it sucks for Klaus Hargreeves. He doesn’t even know how he got in here in the first place, but he’s pretty sure his dad had something to do with it.
Klaus knew the moment he gets the hell out of here, he’s going to get as high as he has never been before.
He didn’t want to see or interact with any ghost; not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
There may have not been a close-by clock, but it’s wasn’t that hard to know it was pretty late. Probably one in the morning.
For some reason, tonight was the night Klaus couldn’t sleep at all. He tossed and turned, he counted sheep, even going out of his way to beg for some warm milk (but they refused to give him any, which he thought was total bull). Since he climbed onto his bunk he had this feeling of.... guilt. Anxiety. Angst. The shit nobody wanted to feel before sleeping.
Klaus groaned and rolled to his left side, now he was facing the wall. A few minutes finally passed when he heard an almost faint scratching at his small window.
“What the hell...” Klaus muttered under his breath. God, he hated the feeling of being sober.
Eventually forcing himself to sit up on his bunk and look out the window to see a Chartreux cat rapidly scratching at the window. It looked like it could’ve been about a year old, but who knows for sure, really.
When the cat finally came to a stop, the two were face to face with one another. It was hard to look away from its round copper colored eyes. The feeling of guilt and angst relaxed a bit, but it still lurked.
It placed its paw on the window, probably trying to say that it wanted to enter. And enter it did. Klaus felt like he was being manipulated by a cat, how he came to that conclusion, he couldn’t really explain.
Nonetheless, Klaus still opened the window for it.
“Hey, buddy,” Klaus cooed at it once it jumped onto his bed. He checked it’s neck for a collar but didn’t seem to find one. “Nichts. How’d you end up in the back of a rehab center?”
The cat wouldn’t stop staring at him. It made Klaus feel uncomfortable, like when Ben use to stare at him with the face whenever Klaus was going to do something stupid. Something like that.
“I don’t have any milk with me, buddy, believe me, I tried asking and they said hell- JESUS CHRIST!” Klaus almost fell off the top bunk.
During Klaus’ ramble, the looked at a nearby picture frame of some other person’s family and opened its mouth.
Tentacles, so many damn tentacles, and five mouths with sharp teeth just shot out of the cat's mouth and threw the family picture of the window, but only to cause a bigger mess in that corner than attended. Klaus assumed there had to be more than ten tentacles, but whatever it was, it was scary as hell.
He was sure he didn’t take any drugs that day, unfortunately.
The cat eventually put all it’s tentacles back in its mouth.
Klaus could feel himself breathing faster, fearing for his life. But then, he stopped. He noticed the cat giving him a look that it seems like it was grinning, or even smirking at him.
His eyes widened and picked him up, “Ben?” He whispered as the cat gave him a short meow.
How the fuck did his brother, that died four years ago when they were twenty-one, reincarnated into a cat and is just now finding him?
Did it really matter?
It’s been almost 4 months since Klaus was reunited with his cat brother, but that wasn’t the only thing that crossed Klaus (and Ben now too) path.
“In the end, after our brother Ben had died, there was really nothing connecting us. We were just strangers living under the same roof, destined to be alone. Starved for attention. Damaged by our upbringing.” Klaus read his sister's book out loud to his group intervention, with Ben following along as he sat on his brother’s lap.
Ben tilted his head in confusion. Vanya wrote that? Ben couldn't believe that his sister would write that. He let out a low pitched meow, to which Klaus shushed him.
”That bitch.” Klaus finally said.
It was true, everything in the book was true, but it wasn't like he wanted to see it on paper. In public. Literally, anyone could grab a copy.
That cunt. That backstabber. That no good, useless, little, truth-telling violin player.
Klaus had so many names to call his little sister when he sees her.