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Chapter Text

“Have you ever regretted anything you’ve done?” 

The question catches the prefect off guard as he tightens his hold on the document he’s about to file. With a quick glance at the asker, Klaus furrows  his eyebrows and responds. 

“Serge, what kind of a question is that?” Comes the curt reply as Klaus turns to dismiss him and continue his duties. He’d barely spoken to Serge since his return to the academy, for a reason he couldn’t place. The obvious floated through his mind and yet it still didn’t feel enough. A twinge of something plucked at a quiet heartstring and yet the instrument was too quiet for him to locate the note. Despite this, his new prefect responsibilities would make sure that Klaus saw him at some point, even if he didn’t want to. 

So only after a few days of finally speaking to each other, a question like that seemed heavily out of bounds. In his contemplation, he nearly missed the response to his own. 

“I just…you never seem to regret anything, you know? I get you’re sorta perfect, but you’re still a person. And people make mistakes. You must regret something, come on.” He almost whined on, hoping to get an honest response out of his fellow prefect. 

What he got back was not honesty, but rather a blank stare. 

“Do you feel nothing? After everything? Things aren’t as they used to be, Serge. Don’t think you can just waltz back into my life and ask questions like that casually after everything. It’s not on.” He fully turned his back now, once again moving to get on with his filing. “I’m not answering a question like that, especially not to someone I consider a stranger.” 

Serge flinched horribly in response to that as he turned his back. “Can’t you just let the past go, Klaus? I have, it’s refreshing. The minute everything changed, the minute he disappeared, you carried on like everything was okay and I tried to fight and argue until I was blue in the face. I did everything I could to help Randy and left my old life behind to do so. You sat and did fuck all and now you’re still trying to make out like I’m the one in the wrong? At least I actually cared enough to give saving him everything I had. What have you accomplished behind that desk in six years that wasn’t for yourself?” 

It was odd to hear Serge being so serious. There was an odd familiarity to hear him standing up for himself but this time it was different. He wasn’t just trying to stand his ground. He was on the offensive, and he was coming for Klaus. That he would not tolerate, not after everything. 

“I’ve been using- wait, no. Why should I justify myself to you, the causer of all of my problems? You have no place in this conversation, not when you’re the guilty party.” His heart had turned to stone in their quiet six years apart; distance certainly did not make the heart grow fonder. 

Whipping his whole body around, a taut line forming where his lips should be. His fierce glare was trying his hardest to pin Klaus to the wall by which he stood. “I accepted the blame long ago, Klaus. Only I decided to do something about it. You sat around and did nothing despite talking of how you did something. You clearly didn’t do anything, for once you didn’t work hard enough. But you don’t get anything out of it, so why would you?” 

Serge immediately knew he’d crossed a line. 

“Get the fuck out of my office.” Was all it took, he didn’t even have to see his face. He hesitantly shuffled out, still brimming with fury but he wasn’t about to argue it any further. 

What Serge said would come to be famous last words.

-

Despite what most of the public thought of the Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, normal days did exist. Days where students went to class, went to their dorms, studied, relaxed and then went home. Days where students went to lunch like any other school and exchanged love letters and banter. Days that felt less like one at an elite academy and more like your average high school. 

This was one of those days. For now. 

Clicking his pen, Klaus’ eyes wandered around the familiar room of his office like there was something new to see. No matter what he did, he couldn’t bring pen to paper and perform his prefect duties. Some may call him a blatant hypocrite - he always glared or made some negative remark when Serge didn’t do his. However, Klaus quickly reminded himself that negligence and struggling were two different things. Serge being the former, clearly. He hadn’t even shown up to his prefect duties today, frustrating the prefect further. 

Although, this may be an opportunity. 

Opening one of his desk drawers by unlocking a magic lock, he pulled out an unfinished magic note and began copying words written on the scrap piece of paper underneath. His careful hands ensured his cursive handwriting captured every detail of care that had gone into the note and he smiled to himself despite knowing that his efforts would likely be wasted. He would never end up needing to use it and yet here he was giving it the same level of respect as a legal document. 

Every part of him knew this was a serious mistake. There was no way a ridiculous effort like this would ever return genuine results and so it was utterly pointless to even do. Yet he still felt compelled to, even after he’d weighed up the many reasons that it made no sense. He’d rehearsed these words as a teenager. He’d written them out on scrap papers just like this except those had ended up thrown away and accompanied by a screaming fit. This time he was doing it for real, he would let his feeling go one way or another. It would likely only result in a catharsis of sorts as the truth would never come to light to the person it was meant to. 

That was likely for the better. 

From what he could tell of the other day, the roles had likely been reversed. Did he still resent Serge? To some extent yes, but this was only recently made  worse by him prodding at the past and deliberately digging for a reaction. Yet Klaus, these days, could see no reason to hate him. Not in the way he did in those first few months after Randy died. At some point, he slowly realised that any emotion had been frozen over with the most powerful of ice spells and any gaps had been filled with the most strenuous of work. Although to be honest, he didn’t mind it that way. His work had gotten him to his  place at the top and he only had himself to thank for it. 

”What have you accomplished behind that desk in six years that wasn’t for yourself?”

Serge’s words had seriously rubbed him up the wrong way to the point where it made him feel sick. He’d helped Randy, even when it felt pointless. Every book, every spell, every way had been thought of and yet none of them ended well for anyone involved. And yet Serge, off on his world tour, constantly sat on his high horse and acted like he’d done everything and it’d turned out better when it hadn’t. 

But even then, he still couldn’t hate him. Not when, after three years, he started to worry where he was. Not after four years, when he realised that it was too late to fix anything, despite his brain’s protests. Not after five years when he binned his sixth piece of scrap paper that day and decided to just give up on anything his faulty heart told him to do. 

Maybe that’s where it had all gone wrong. 

Rather than keep his heart in a vice, he had let it determine his actions when in private, knowing full well it had lacked proper reason. It was the only ridiculous thing letting him cling to irrelevant little things in the past that no longer mattered. Randy was dead, Serge couldn’t stand him now, and that was the end of it. 

Even so, a lingering thought still sat in the back of his mind as he paused on writing his letter. What had his research for Randy’s recovery actually done? Of course, it wasn’t like Serge’s had done much better but it still warranted a contemplation. Had he tried as little as Serge claimed? In comparison, he supposed, Serge had taken on an entirely different identity and travelled the world, even if that did seem drastic at the time. Looking back, maybe it was necessary. In truth, had Klaus really done anything at all? 

He removed his glasses and sighed for a moment. He was getting a little bit ahead of himself. The worst of it was that he couldn’t even ask why Serge mattered. Because to ask something like that is to make the overly-precise, carefully written letter in front of his weary eyes completely pointless. 

But wasn’t it anyway? Serge would never see it. 

He’d lay down his life to make sure of it if needed. 

Matters of the heart were not something he commonly contended with and so a move like his current one was completely personal and private. But still he put his heart and soul into this piece of work, like it was meant for the entire world. But this little piece was simply his world, the part of his heart that no-one got to see, the only part that had been left undamaged by the past. This was secretly important to him, no matter how much he wished to admit it. Even if the words had been revised time and time again and said in a number of different ways as he aged, they were still his and they ultimately still meant the same thing. 

But he would never share them. 

What would Randy say about this horrific mess? He’d probably nudge him closer to what his emotions were telling him which was the exact thing Klaus wanted to avoid. Sometimes, disasters had their perks. 

Back on the topic of disasters, what did Klaus really have left to gain? He dreamt of being a professor but was destined for the ministry, he already had a strong influence and now he was beginning to realise that he may have done nothing to aid his friend’s resurrection. The more he pondered, the more the ice began to thaw. Cracks created gaps -gaps for his mind to fill with nothing. As he continued to write, a draft of loneliness began to creep into his heart and wrap around around his heartstrings before pulling to a painful taut. Realistically, he knew that this was ridiculous. But the more he thought, the faster he came to realisation. 

This train of thought was never the beginning, but rather the bitter end. 

The rusty locks were beginning to drop off and soon enough all hell would break loose in the hole called his heart. These thoughts were not new, they never had been, it was just that now they were starting to take a hold on him. Somehow, he had known this day would come. 

As he finished his magic note, he held off on sending it yet but kept it with him to read again and again on his way. Before he left, he wrote on a scrap piece of paper and left it on his desk. He was, at last, ready to try the dirtiest method in the book. 

- 

Prefect duties were definitely his least favourite thing. They were so constricting and binding and forced you to do one thing at a time when his life and mind demanded spontaneity and exploration. Despite this, he’d assumed that having an old friend share it with him wouldn’t be so painful and yet he was swiftly proven wrong. Within the few weeks that they had been in each others’ presence and the even shorter time that they had been speaking, it was clear that all had certainly not been forgiven. 

There went Serge’s plan for a fresh start. 

He remembered Klaus’ love for his work but had only seen that this had worsened unhealthily in his absence. That’s why, when he opened the office door to find his fellow prefect not inside, he was both baffled and alarmed. 

“Klaus?” He started, entering the office to find a simple note on his desk. 

’Out. - K. Goldstein’

That was seriously worrying. Leaving was weird enough but to do so with no indication of where he was, it was simply unheard of. As he turned to leave the office in pursuit of him, he noticed his brother just entering the doorway with a puzzled look that mirrored his own. 

“Klaus, out? Did he tell you where he  was going?” The younger Goldstein started as he placed the books he was carrying onto his desk. 

“I got here moments before you so he’s been gone for at least a few minutes. I needed to talk to him so I was gonna look for him, if you wanted to come.” Serge gave an awkward smile as he extended the offer, he knew it was odd to smile at a time like this but he knew that he should probably still be friendly. 

Elias returned the gesture in kind before nodding. “It can’t hurt, I suppose. I’d just rather see what he’s up to. It’s odd for something to keep him like this.” 

So they headed out of the office, Serge dutifully locking it before they left in search of Klaus. Hastily, they checked classrooms, offices, the dorms, the archive (Luca was napping here, awoken by the rude intrusion but of no help in terms of information) amongst many other places with no sign of the prefect. Defeated, both of them looked to each other for a guide they could not give until Elias became the voice of reason. 

“How about I head back to the office whilst you keep looking? If he turns up, I can keep him there if I need to.” This seemed to be the most logical solution and so Elias left him with a polite bow along with his thoughts. 

Where was he? The uncharacteristic behaviour was enough to send anyone who knew him into a panic but Serge couldn’t shake the feeling that something was extremely wrong. Maybe it was instinct, maybe he had some sort of ridiculous bond with Klaus. Who knew. Regardless, something about this entire situation riddled him with a paranoia that left him stuck in place whilst darting his eyes for any sort of clue. That’s when it hit him. 

As he was looking, his own  harshly piercing voice shook his mind as he tried to block out the words which warranted a serious apology: ”For once you didn’t work hard enough. But you don’t get anything out of it, so why would you?”. As his brain replayed the disgusting words he’d spat at him, his eyes fell on a potted Carem flower. 

Oh no.

- 

Determined, Klaus let his feet guide him to the place he knew so well. He came to visit Randy often in the past and so the path to the field had never left him. He walked with the magic note in his hands, still not ready to let it go.  He figured he should read it again, he already had a thousand times so what was one more?

’Serge,

I hope this message finds you well. If it does not, feel free to ignore everything that is written here and go on like it was never written. 

It has been brought to my attention by my heart (yes, I have one) that what I feel for you has not been strictly platonic for a number of years. However, as things stand I understand that this may not be reciprocated in any way. That I am fine with, but I just wished to let you know that despite my cruelty, you were my everything. You grounded me in ways Randy couldn’t and challenged me in ways I never thought possible. But even after all that, you still cared about me. Not as a Goldstein, or a top student, but as Klaus, the idiot teenager who was obsessed with getting his own way. It is only now that i have realised how valuable that was and how idiotic I was to let myself lose it. You meant everything to me and I let you go out of selfishness and jealousy. 

I expect you to do nothing with this information but I felt you deserved to know the truth. 

Yours sincerely, 
Klaus.’

It was a short and simple letter, he knew that, but he merely wanted to get the point across. There was no need for further wasted effort on flowery proposals when he knew that rejection was inevitable. As he looked up from the letter, he realised that his feet had stopped in front of the field. 

It was time. 

- 

As Serge raced through the school, his heart pounded violently a mile a minute. What on earth was Klaus doing at Randy’s place of rest? He can’t be a common visitor; Elias would likely have seen him and would have mentioned it. Was this about what he’d said the other  day? He sure hoped not, he didn’t need to cause any more problems with his reckless antics. His legs were burning and yet he couldn’t afford to move any slower. Any sort of research to save Randy Serge had done had either ended in a dangerous resolution or completely inconclusive. Given that Klaus had not found a safe alternative, or at least he’d not said, he could safely assume that the former was likely to be taking place. 

His lungs were on fire. His legs ached immensely.He didn’t care, as long as it meant Klaus didn’t come to harm.

As he kept running, he soon found the flowers to be in sight but had to swallow his sigh of relief. It wasn’t over until he knew Klaus was okay. 

Serge should’ve known that wishes never came true. 

As he approached, he couldn’t find the prefect anywhere and began to pick up his pace again, looking for any sign of him. He had to be here. Nothing else made sense. So where was he? Where was the prefect? Where was Klaus, the man he’d always admired for his ability to do the right thing?

As that thought crossed his mind, he spotted him halfway through casting a spell in front of the petrified Randy. At the sound of footsteps, Klaus looked up at him and was, for a moment, expressionless before breaking out into the most genuine smile Serge had ever seen him display. It kept him rooted to the spot, smiling back, as it filled his chest with a warmth it seemed to recognise from years ago. 

That fizzled out in a second when it occurred to Serge what Klaus was actually doing. As he watched him, he realised that his spell was complete and he was already beginning to fall still in some parts. His brain registered what was going on and yet his throat closed up completely and his feet were glued to the ground. Klaus was still smiling, like this was okay, this was normal and yet Serge felt powerless to stop him. 

Once the process was about halfway done, he looked over to Randy’s statue that was beginning to de-petrify and found that he could walk and talk once more. He dashed in front of Klaus with pleading eyes and tried to hold his shoulders that had already gone stiff. He looked to his eyes for answers but found nothing, coming to the only conclusion that once again, a petrification was somehow his fault. As Klaus felt his hands beginning to go stiff, he held the note out to Serge as a final peace offering but the other man was too busy trying to get his voice to function. 

“You can’t…stop! You have to stop!” Was all he could choke out as Klaus insisted on the paper in his hand. With what little movement he had left, he shook his head and continued to smile. To Serge, it looked as if he was about to speak before he closed his mouth again and let the spell seal his lips shut for good. 

Serge had made a massive mistake. Again. 

As he looked upon the work that he considered to be at least partially his, he tried to pry what he assumed had been a magic note from his hand and watched as it crumbled to dust and was blown away by the breeze. Magic meant nothing when the caster couldn’t breathe. Great. Because of his inability to stop and think, he’d now caused Klaus to get into this  mess and now he’d never know what he’d wanted him to. What’s worse is, he’d never been able to apologise. 

Whatever truth Klaus wanted him to see was lost forever, lost in a grief that clearly only Klaus thought he understood and could fix. And all Serge had done, in his intrusive questions, was make him feel more isolated when they should’ve been able to stick together. 

Now it was too late.

But before he could wrap his arms around his friend, someone he had truly cared deeply for, if Klaus had even ever considered him to be such to him, he felt a familiarly alien tap on his shoulder. 

“Serge…? What happened to Klaus?” 

History repeats itself. Serge knew that now.  

Chapter Text

For once in his life, he was speechless. 

Not like that speechless where your jaw drops and the butterflies in your stomach flutter at the thought of meeting someone new, but rather that gut-wrenching sucker punch feeling that drains your energy until you’re barely functioning. That’s how Serge felt now, staring  wordlessly at the man that was once his friend. Paralysed by the sight before him, he just stood there and failed to hear or respond to his friend who had just come back from the dead. 

Why was it always him?

He constantly caused problems he couldn’t fix and now this was just another one to add to the pile. At this point, it was probably just going to be like this forever, a cycle of problems that rolled into themselves and snowballed until one day he’d just disappear again. Not that he could disappear again, what more was there to discover? All of his research had proved inconclusive and Klaus had taken the one route he never thought anyone would have to save Randy. But why? What reason did Klaus have to sacrifice himself given everything he had? It made no sense to Serge, the person who had lost everything when it was forced out of his hands. Why would someone like Klaus wilfully relinquish everything he had worked his entire life for? 

That damn letter would’ve told him. He just knew it. 

If only he’d taken it. Instead he’d stood there like a dithering fool and let the opportunity slip out of his fingers whilst his friend slipped out of his life. He was still standing there now, unsure of what to do as he felt a hand squeeze his shoulder. He reeled back as he spun around and came face to face with the man who Klaus had given his life to save. 

This was supposed to be a happy moment. He’d spent years tossing and turning on sleepless nights when he was away researching, daydreaming of this moment. He’d imagined pulling Klaus into a tight hug before he’d shove him off and make a snide comment that he’d finally managed to prove that the past could be fixed. They’d all laugh for a second, just like old times, before Klaus became the voice of reason and explained that there was a lot to be discussed on Randy’s return and whether or not he wanted t return  the school at all. But the whole time Serge would be astounded at how much Klaus seemed to relax, despite knowing how much of a weight it was off his shoulders. Yet it had been robbed from him, in favour of cutting to a chase that just served to hurt him further. 

“Hey, are you listening?” Feeling Randy shake him, he blinked out of his trance and stared at him. It was probably high time he said something, even if he didn’t want to. He believed that his mouth should dry and close up forever. His idiotic brain had gone and ruined something again and his mouth wasn’t about to do him  any favours. 

“I…I…” He choked out weakly, realising his mouth had closed up and he was struggling to choke out any words. “I killed Klaus.” Was what eventually tumbled clumsily out of his mouth as he panted like he’d never breathed before in his life. With shaky hands, he fought not to cry as he gripped onto the shoulders of a wide-eyed Randy. “I…I killed him…The only other person that understood. What’s worse, he gave me the chance to find out why he was doing this. Or just…something. He gave me the chance to know something and I didn’t take it. I was too busy staring at him, not even processing what was going on. I could’ve stopped him! I could’ve…I could’ve…” He trailed off as Randy pulled him into a hug. 

“Serge. Start from the beginning. What happened to Klaus? Last I remember I was petrified…thus doesn’t make any sense. Start from the beginning, slowly. What happened? You’re worrying me, Serge.” His soothing voice made absolutely nothing better. The presence of Randy only served  to further drive home the reality of Klaus’ absence. He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He didn’t really do much of anything. He simply stood there in Randy’s embrace, not really sure what to do. 

After a few minutes of just standing there, Serge finally found his voice again, although it croaked out feebly as he spoke. “I…I said something awful to Klaus. I’d been looking for him today to apologise and…and…I was too late…again…He just…He smiled at me! He was literally killing himself and he was smiling at me! I couldn’t think, Randy, I couldn’t…No matter what I tried, I couldn’t move or speak but by the time I could, it was too late! I’ve fucked up, Randy. Big time. What do I tell his brother? His parents? I can’t tell  them the truth. I’ll be in the papers as the man who tried to murder the Goldstein family! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” It almost felt like getting pins and needles in his heart as the feeling rushed back to it, although more accurately it was like small knives stabbing into his chest. 

It took Randy grounding him again by holding his shoulders. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a misunderstanding? What were your actual words?”  He watched expectantly, waiting for a response from his buddy.

“I…I said that Klaus didn’t…didn’t do enough to save you…That everything he did was for himself…I was angry, I didn’t think and now…Now he’s gone. Forever. Did the one thing I thought no-one ever would and now things are no better than they were. No offence to you, Randy, I just…I wanted us all to be together at the same time.” He sighed, defeated. “Do you…Do you mind leaving me alone for a minute? I…I never expected to be in this position. I always imagined we’d reunite in a better position than this, and now I’m not really sure what to do. Can you just…Can you give me a sec?” He asked solemnly before Randy, in understanding, nodded and squeezed his shoulder for a final time before backing off and sitting under a tree the put him out of earshot. 

Once Randy was gone, Serge turned back to the man that was still smiling warmly. At him. He’d chosen to die like that, with no look of bitter resentment or disdain towards him. Not Randy, him. His sharp purple eyes, used to instil fear and confidence into the most influential of people, had softened in Serge’ presence when Klaus saw him approaching in his final moments. There was no anger in those eyes, no frustration, no hatred. Just a soft something that Serge couldn’t place. 

Balling his hands into something that were barely fists, he shuffled closer to the statue to look at the man who had been living and breathing not long ago. Serge had no plan of what to do now. Say his goodbyes, knowing that his research had done nothing to save one friend and now would never save another? Granted, he could take Klaus’ place but what would that solve, really? Randy needed him right now, he was six years behind. 

Maybe everything should come out. 

Serge knew he’d never get the chance to be this honest again. After this, he’d be busy trying to move on with his life or he’d be locked up on order of the Goldstein family. Shit, he still had to tell Elias, didn’t he? That responsibility was on his shoulders and there was nothing he could do to avoid or prevent that. But that was for him of a bit later to deal with. For now, this was about him and Klaus - well more just him - telling the truth. 

Not really knowing what to do, he first made eye contact with Klaus’ expression that he still couldn’t fathom for some reason. Something in him changed wen he saw that smile, the butterflies in his stomach grew erratic and he felt himself about to smile back. He soon blinked and shook himself out of it; everything about this was just incredibly wrong. He’d killed his friend, indirectly or not, he certainly didn’t get to smile at him. 

So he looked to the floor instead and did the only thing he could think to do. Gingerly, he took the hand that had previously been holding the note, the note that he’d now never know the contents of, and squeezed it gently. After a few moments of trying to process what he’d just done, he finally found his voice. Clearing his throat quietly, he began. 

“Hey, Klaus. Research suggests you might be able to hear me so I’m going to give myself a bit of peace of mind that I know I don’t deserve. I made you like this, whether you believe it or not, so you deserve to hear the truth in case I never get the opportunity to tell you for real.” He started, letting his face fall and refusing to make eye contact with the smile that would make his stomach twist. It felt like magic, that genuine grin of his. For some reason, he’d been the last to see it. 

“The truth is, I don’t hate you. I’m not mad at you. I haven’t been for a long time. I’m…I’m proud of you. For everything you accomplished. For everything you did that I never could. You’re talented, more than I ever was but back in the day I chalked it all up to daddy’ money. But I was wrong. When I actually got to see you as just you, not a lot changed. You aren’t shoehorned in because your parents are rich, you were born to be here. So first of all, I’m sorry for taking that away from you. I did say, once, but I think I was being bitchy and not very clear about it. But I’ve watched you grow into someone incredible, even if only through news articles. You’re everything I could only have dreamed to be and I took away your chance to be something. So I’m sorry that you’re the one stuck there right now, instead of me. I…I’m sorry.” 

Once his brain regained full function, two things became apparent.  First, he was gripping Klaus’ hand impossibly tight now and second, his face was incredibly wet from tear stains. At this point, it was pointless to uphold any dignity as he let go of his hand and threw both of his arms around his neck in a fit of desperate sobs. Crying wouldn’t solve anything; it wouldn’t bring him back, and yet nothing stopped Serge from doing it. He hugged him as closely as he could, even though he knew arms would not be wrapping around him in kind. 

This had happened before, he recalled. For what reason he didn’t know, but Klaus had ended up pulling him into a hug just like this one and had rocked him gently until he was calm. For just a moment he was back there, an idiot 18-year-old who didn’t know what was about to hit him and was crying about something relatively meaningless. 

Then he felt cold stone through his uniform and remembered what was really going on. As he cleared his throat and sucked in a shaky breath  and continued his earlier conversation through the tears. 

“I uh…I hope this is okay. I won’t…I won’t be long. I just always wanted to hug you again. But I’ve wanted to do more than that too, whilst we were apart. I missed you a lot, you know. When I was away, I finally opened my eyes to just how  much you meant to me and how much I cared about you. I started to daydream of seeing you again but felt that it was too distant a reality to say that you would’ve missed me. And I was right. So I’m sorry about this. About this hug, the little gifts in your desk drawer to say sorry, not the one you keep locked, the other one, and just the way I’ve ruined your life. But I wish that we could’ve worked it out. We could’ve been something, even if you hated me even before what happened to Randy. I…I’m too embarrassed to tell you, even if you can’t laugh at me. So I’ll  just show you instead.” He paused, hesitant, before finally lifting to look Klaus in the eyes, after which he closed his own and kissed his lips. Just a sweet innocent kiss that was brief, but something that led Serge forget the footsteps that approached and stopped abruptly nearby. 

Wait, that was it. 

As Serge pulled away from Klaus, he let out an ‘oh fuck’  in realisation. That look, that smile that was giving him the fastest of butterflies, was a look of love. And Klaus was looking at him as he was freezing. There had to be a mistake, Serge thought as he paled. There was no way that Klaus had been looking at him like that, and if he had, then Serge’s nasty words had cost him the opportunity of a lifetime. A sick feeling built in his throat as he stared at the man who was likely using a piece of paper to tell him that he loved him. He’d lost the only person he’d ever truly loved, and likely ever been loved by, all in favour of him being a prick. 

He always lost out on the best people with the best opportunities and burst back into violent sobs as he heard Randy say something close by that shook him to his core. 

“Yet again, I’m the reason you two have been torn apart.”

Chapter Text

Serge couldn’t bear the thought of what was about to come. 

After consoling Randy, desperately insisting that this was no-one’s fault but his own, it had properly hit him that the gorgeous emperor was a statue, never to move again. His unkind words had cost him everything, the chance to be with the man he held such strong feelings for and to watch each other succeed forever. Now he was left to tell everyone that he’d failed twice in his life- there was really no way for him to come back now. 

After a while of being in the carem field, he had left Randy with the professors and bid them farewell, promising to explain his actions later. For now, someone much more important needed to know the truth. 

Elias. 

He’d been by his brother’s side since forever, looking up to him whilst growing into his own person as of late. What was Serge about to do to him, with the knowledge of his brother’s passing? This all could’ve been easily prevented if Serge had learned to keep his big mouth shut. As much as the brothers seemed to bicker, seemed to question each other and push each other to their limits, they were still there for each other at the end of the day and his digs had taken that away from them. No matter how he twisted it or took it apart like an experiment, this was his fault, his problem to fix and his responsibility to face the punishment, whatever it was. 

With his heart hammering in his chest, he approached the prefect’s office, where Elias was still waiting with anticipation. By now he was sat in his brother’s chair, using the chance to look at work that he just might be doing one day and fiddling with a pen that was not his own. As he heard Serge enter, he looked up but let his shoulders drop slightly when he found his brother to not be with him. 

“Where’s my brother?” Was the first thing out of his mouth until he quietly pondered and spoke up once again, seemingly answering his own question. “I assume you sent him back to the dorms, actually. It is getting late and if he comes back here now, he’ll work until sunrise.” He reasoned logically, as Serge felt his heart sink. Realising just how well these two knew each other made the reality of what he was about to say even more painful. 

He took a seat on the sofa, eyeing the young Goldstein and bouncing his leg up and down. “Look, Elias. I…I can’t believe I’m about to say this…” He mumbled as he fiddled, trying to give himself a mental pep talk. “I…I’m glad you’re already sat down.” He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat as he watched Elias’s expression shift, eyeing the papers on his desk with a wobbling lip. 

“Serge, what happened to my brother? Is he alright?” 

No matter how much his mouth wanted to betray him, he couldn’t let it dry up twice. 

“Klaus, he…” Even though he knew how important telling him was, his mind was still trying to comprehend the reality as well. “He…” He continued, trying desperately to say what he needed to. That smile flashed before his eyes - that damned smile - and he did everything he could to not let the tears spill. He’d already had time to grieve that he didn’t deserve. This was for Elias now, the man that needed to know most. 

“I killed you brother, Elias. I’m sorry.” 

The words fell out of his mouth without much thought, tactless as Klaus would’ve put it, and he watched with pained eyes as a range of emotions painted Elias’s face before it hardened once again. “Elaborate. You helped me look for him, you looked panicked, and you wouldn’t openly confess to murder. Elaborate.” He repeated, his face serious and hanging on Serge’s every word. 

Serge didn’t know what to say to that, to the undeniable faith Elias had in him and to his desperation to know more. He’d come this far, there was nowhere to go. “I…I said something horrible to him, and then I was looking for him today to say sorry, and…and…and…” Biting back tears was becoming harder and harder as he swallowed thickly. 

“And what, Serge? You wouldn’t kill my brother over some nasty words, much less ones that came out of your own mouth. You can’t have killed my brother, he wouldn’t have let you. If you think this is a joke, Serge Durandal, I don’t find it funny-“ He was about to continue until Serge eagerly butted in. 

“He petrified himself. Okay? It was my fault, I made him feel pointless and worthless, and all of those other icky things that everyone figured couldn’t touch him. I broke him, and I watched him die before I even had the chance to do anything. So sure, I didn’t kill him with magic or a weapon or anything, but I killed any confidence and self-worth he had and made him feel useless. So useless that he figured trading places with someone else was a better use of the rest of his days. So I’m sorry.” 

At some point, Elias had dropped the pen and let it clatter to the floor. His eyes were pinning Serge down, widened as his hands shook and his breaths grew shallower. “This must be a joke. This is one of your bad jokes, Serge Durandal, or so God help me I will crumble on this office floor.” Serge could only shake his head solemnly as he bit his lip, on the verge of drawing blood. He waited for Elias to do something, for now he was sat staring at the desk before him, watching him swallow tensely as he began to shake. “It’s the truth..?” Was all he could mumble out before he stood up, his eyes fixed on Serge. 

As he stood Serge did, the prefect expected him to grip him and shake him by the shoulders for being so careless just as his brother did six years before. At least that’s what Serge thought until he felt the young Goldstein fell into his arms with quiet sobs. 

“I don’t have the energy to hate you right now,” He mumbled through the tears, as if he knew what the other man had been thinking, “And I’m not sure if I ever will. My brother doesn’t…he doesn’t just succumb to a few mean words like that! Whatever you said must’ve just confirmed something in his own head, and now…” He fell silent as he let his shaky voice rest in favour of him crying. “Did you talk about Randy? Was that it? That’s the only thing that would push him so far…so far as to…But he promised he wouldn’t! He would never…” He continued to cling to Serge’s uniform as he sobbed, seeing a mirror of himself only hours earlier. 

But when had Klaus talked to Elias about depetrification methods? Whatever, that didn’t matter right now. What mattered is that Serge had exploited his only weakness and had used it to kill him. 

“Yeah…yeah I did…I was angry, I was dumb, and I intended to apologise, I swear! I’m so sorry Elias, this is all my fault…” But even then, as he said that, he felt the tears began to roll down his face. He hugged Elias closer, trying to bring as much relief as hugging your brother’s killer could, and tried to use this opportunity to let it all out before he was forced to have his due punishment. He felt the last few hours really hit him hard and just let Elias grip onto him and grieve, the same way he knew he shouldn’t be doing. 

“As much as we argued, he was everything to me…Sometimes things were bitter, or awkward and sometimes he did say some awful things. But he was learning from it, and we were finally starting to get along! Why would he do this…? Why lie to me, like rumours don’t go around enough?” He sobbed loudly, continuing to grasp onto Serge. “Why would you even say that…? You knew how delicate the situation was, even I knew that and he never…he never even really spoke to me about it! I had to infer things from quiet whispers when I should’ve been asleep! I don’t know what you said. I…I don’t even think I want to know, not yet. Like I said, I…I can’t bring myself to hate you. What my brother did can’t be the result of a few nasty and thoughtless words. But I will hold contempt just…just as he did. Someday I shall find it within myself to forgive you. But that day cannot be today.” 

Remaining silent, Serge could only nod at the remark as he continued to hold Elias, his own tears spilling when he knew he didn’t have the right to be relieved of his pain. Why Klaus had done what he did would now forever be unclear, but all his fellow prefect could do was let his heart sink at the reminder of that beautiful smile, a painful reminder of what he had lost and could never have. His hand clenched into a tighter fist as he remembered that cold, stone hand in his own and how, if he had just kept quiet, it probably could’ve been a much warmer one somewhere down the line. He didn’t deserve this, the chance to let out his sorrows, but his mind and body took it regardless. 

Selfish of him, just as always.

This was about Klaus’s brother, his family, more than him. Yet he kept forgetting that, as he held the sobbing man in his arms with a somber expression. Consistently he was reminded that he caused this, this was his fault and he’d torn everyone apart because of his reckless actions. If his brother didn’t forgive him, he didn’t expect the rest of the Goldstein family to be any kinder. There was Sigurd to think about, who had seen his cousin shift after an event he had also been at fault for. There was also the professors, who had lost one of their best students to what he proclaimed was certainly their worst. 

“Why would you…” Elias spoke, dragging Serge out of his internal speech of self-depreciation, “Why would you even say something awful to…to someone you claim to care so deeply about? I can tell you feel guilty, as frustrated as I am, I am not here to undermine your grief. I just want to…to understand…why you’d even say something so awful, knowing full well it could have dangerous consequences! If you care so much, like your attitude tells me, why even take the risk?” He choked out between cries as he continued to hold his brother’s friend. 

Serge held that extra grief that ‘friend’ could’ve been so much more. 

“I…I was being so ridiculous, so petty…! I…I wanted him to talk to me, that was the first thing. I-I just wanted to break the ice! Then he turned on me, things got more heated and before I knew it we were being bitter and I said something I regret…He meant so much to me, and some silly little words have cost me everything! This…This isn’t even about me, you know? But I just hate to think of what we could’ve been. We just got onto that train of thought and I…I…”  A fresh set of tears rolled down his face as he felt his own shirt getting wet from Elias’s own sorrowful cries. 

“I’m not even going to lecture you on being careful and how words have consequences. You already know that. But…I…I thought you of all people would’ve learned. He’s not here, so…I’ll say it for him. You’re an idiot, Serge Durandal, a first-class idiot.” 

He opted to say nothing back to Serge, the latter taking the hint that the conversation was over. Elias was a man of few words from what he could tell, even less so when it came to feelings, so getting him to speak this much was a miracle. Grief overtook him as he let himself forget how to think and sobbed with the brother of the man he loved. 

Serge would never forget that note.