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[superbitter]

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☈ called and called but you never picked up (soulmates)

[channellings]

How long has he been lying on the ground for? Klaus isn't sure, doesn't even really want to move and find out, but he knows that if he stays there much longer, one of three things could happen: one, someone steps on him. Two, someone calls an ambulance. (He's covered in blood, after all.) Or three – which is probably the worst – a police officer shows up and takes him away. If that happens, there's a likely chance he'll be at the precinct for far longer than he'd like. So, in spite of himself, he cracks his eyes open, glances around a brief moment, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as color ever-so-slightly begins to bleed back into his vision.

Oh, thank God. Because it means he is back in his normal timeline, that everything is (hopefully) back to normal and whenever he gets back to the academy— No, he thinks, don't get ahead of yourself just yet. He has no idea if something's fucked up or if this is some alternate timeline to the one he was wanting to find. Until he knows, he won't hold his breath, lest he ends up turning blue.

The trek back home is a long one. Quiet, the bustling noises of people and cars and other city sounds aside, although those are all things he takes comfort in. More stuff that reminds him he might have found the right place. As much as he's kicking himself for destroying the briefcase, it's better this way, better that no one else happens across it and does a time-hop into someplace they've got no idea what they're doing. Five will be pissed about it, he'll deal with that wrath later, though.

Rather than come through the front door like a normal person, Klaus's planning for a back or side entrance and once he's inside, his next immediate idea is a shower. Except after he gets into the bathroom, he finds it's far more difficult to stand than he remembers, meaning sitting in the tub will have to do.

Which is what he does, soaking in the water until it's cold, until his fingers are completely wrinkled. Slowly but surely, his sight is becoming more normal too, solidifying his assumption that he's somehow made it back to the proper time. Good, because he wants so badly to find Diego, but... not right this second. Not while he's still immediately recovering from that. What does he even call it besides ‘war?’

His room looks the exact same as he'd left it; messy and scattered, warm, familiar— He makes a beeline for the bed, slumps down on the edge of it, puts his face in his hands and breathes deep, doing everything he can to gather his thoughts, to keep himself together. It's okay, everything is fine now (even though it actually isn't).

It also hasn't dawned on him yet that there are definitely bloody footprints all down the hallway he'd traipsed through. Another bridge that'll need crossing when it comes.

[superbitter]

He and Luther are watching over Five in his little apartment when it happens. One moment, the world is beautiful and bright, the way he's always known it to be and the next, the colours have dulled. It takes all over three seconds for Diego to realise what that means and his breath catches in his chest so hard he stumbles into his dresser, gasping.

Number Two can hear Number One's voice but he can't make out the words, drowned out by the unimaginable pain that takes over his brain and brings tears to his eyes. When he's finally able to breathe again, it's to Luther informing him that he has a message from Eudora and he knows it has something to do with Klaus.

The rug is pulled out from beneath him once more when he finds the hotel room empty aside from Eudora's body, bleeding out into the shitty carpet. And there's no sign of Klaus.

He's useless to everyone, curled up in his bed and staring blankly at the wall while the world goes on around him. Everything looks dull in a way he's never known and he doesn't know how he's going to keep on going without Klaus.

Unlike when the colour left, it creeps back in slowly. So slowly that he doesn't notice it at first. He's not sure exactly what it is that catches his eye but when he notices the vibrancy, he sits up so quickly his head spins and he almost falls as he races out into the hall.

It was Mum's dress; the bright pink one with the black polka dots and she's mopping up... blood?

"Klaus?" Grace doesn't even look up at him. The panic is in full force and he races to his soul mate's room. "Oh shit. Klaus!"

[channellings]

He's vaguely aware of the footsteps in the corridor, takes note of the soft swishing sounds accompanying them. While it's something familiar, something he's heard a million times before, he can't quite put his finger on it, can't discern that noise from the faint, lingering ring in his ears. What finally does break him from the stupor is an actual voice, one he knows all too well.

Shit. Klaus isn't quite ready to face his brother yet, unsure as to how he's supposed to explain what the hell happened, where he's been and why. Despite the uncertainty though, the medium clambers upright, rushes around his room in a quick flurry of movement, ignoring the almost debilitating throb between his ears to the best of his ability. Whenever he finds pants, they go on in one swift motion and he somehow manages not tripping himself while going through the motions, but even that brief movement exacerbates the pain.

Albeit reluctantly, he stumbles backward, drops into a sit on the edge of the bed and clutches his hair, taking long, measured breathes in an attempt at calming the storm raging inside his head. One, two, three, he counts the steps, up until Number Two's right outside the bedroom door.

And the moment it opens the rest of the way, his attention flickers toward his brother, half-lidded eyes watching him, considering. God, it's so nice seeing everything in color, it practically makes the time-jump worth it just to see him. (Almost, that is.)

“Diego,” comes the quiet response. Then he's attempting to stand once more, moving toward the other man, regardless of any remaining dizziness.

[superbitter]

He doesn't knock, just pushes the door open with a trembling hand, unsure if this is an illusion and he's only seeing the colour because he wants to and that he'll open the door and Klaus won't be behind it.

But there he is, as beautiful as ever and he's... He's hurting. Diego can see that much just from looking at him for half a second.

"Klaus. You..." His brown eyes well up with tears at the sight of him. He brings both arms up to wrap around him and pull him close. "I thought you were dead."

[channellings]

Klaus wouldn't have expected him to knock, either. They'd lived together long enough, they all knew the risks of opening a door without making certain it was safe to do so, but he's so extraordinarily glad Diego didn't wait.

Even if he is obviously hurting, he looks uninjured (a bullet scar marring the skin of his left shoulderblade notwithstanding) and somehow softer, lacking his usual makeup, standing there with slightly damp curls plastered against his forehead and cheeks.

I almost was, is what he wants to say, except Diego's crying and— “Oh, Diego, it... it's okay.” He cinches both arms around his brother, squeezes him tight, buries into the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. “I'm fine, yeah? D-Don't cry.” Funny that he says it when his own eyes are beginning to well up, too.

[superbitter]

Diego's arms are tight around Klaus' lithe frame, holding him close. Each breath is shaky and he never wants to let his soul mate go.

"It's not, Klaus. I... I went to the hotel and you were gone and 'Dora... Eudora is gone and I thought you were dead!" Pulling back, Diego curls both hands around Klaus' face and watches his eyes fill with tears as well. "What happened?"

[channellings]

It's grounding, reassuring. If it were possible, Klaus would hold him tighter, but he's still a little wary, still unsure of whether this moment might be a dream or not.

But then Diego's talking about the hotel, about Eudora, withdrawing and reaching to clutch his face instead. Much as he wants to keep himself together, it just won't be possible, not when he's being held so gently. Patch is... “Gone? No, I—” he pauses, glances toward the door then reaches his hands up to carefully hold Diego's wrists, “—I'm sorry, I fucked up.” And now he's a real ridiculous mess, crying like this.

[superbitter]

"No. No, you didn't. She should have waited for me." Diego chokes on his tears and looks down at the ground for a moment. "She... They shot her." Frowning further, Diego looks back up at Klaus and runs his thumb under his eyes to catch the tears.

"They were after Five. Whoever these people are, the people who killed Patch." He presses a kiss against Klaus' lips before pressing his forehead against his. "What happened to you?"

[channellings]

Of course they did, fucking hitmen. God, seeing Diego like this, it sincerely hurts, makes Klaus's heart ache in ways he'd thought impossible after Ben's death. He shakes his head, gives a faint sniffle then lifts one of his hands higher, gently rubbing his knuckles across Diego's cheeks.

“Yeah, they... they tried to get information.” Succeeded even, hours of torture later. He exhales a breathy little whimper, cups Diego's nape to draw him closer during the kiss, only relenting so their foreheads can meet once he breaks it off to speak again. “After Patch saved me, I just. Escaped as fast as I could. Stole some of their shit along the way.”

[superbitter]

Diego's thumb keeps brushing over Klaus' cheek even as he cups his face and holds him close, just breathing him in and memorising the blue of his eyes, bare of their usual eyeliner, which is odd in and of itself.

"What happened, Klaus? Why did my colours fade? I thought you were dead."

[channellings]

He doesn't want to say, he really would prefer they just skip right past the nitty-gritty details, but. That's not fair to Diego and honestly? Maybe Klaus selfishly wants to tell him, anyway.

“To be fair? I genuinely thought I was going to die, haha!” Except it's not something he should be laughing about at all. “They had this briefcase. I stole it and I... time-jumped? You know, like Five does?”

[superbitter]

"That's not funny, Klaus." Diego looks anything except entertained by the comment about dying and he stares at his soul mate for a long moment. Wait, Klaus time jumped? Was that why his colours had dulled so much, because Klaus no longer lived in their time?

"You... Where did you go?"

[channellings]

“N-No, it's not.” So, why'd he make the stupid comment? “Sorry,” he murmurs, nudging his forehead more intently against Diego's and heaving a sigh. Afterward, Klaus withdraws, still holding one of Diego's wrists, his other hand flicking toward the door, telekinetic energy effectively pushing it shut.

With some semblance of privacy to the room, he admits barely above a whisper, “Vietnam.”

[superbitter]

Diego only acknowledges the apology with another kiss because he doesn't really know what else to say to it that won't make Klaus feel even more guilty for trying to lighten the mood -and failing, but that wasn't the point.

"Viet-- wait... you don't mean..." The War, goes unsaid because Diego can't bring himself to even say it.

[channellings]

And maybe Klaus holds the kiss a little longer than necessary but can he really be blamed? They both genuinely thought the other was gone not all that long ago; he'd hate considering how it would be if it'd been the truth.

Rather than respond verbally, he nods at the unfinished question, glances toward his left arm from his peripheral then twists it toward Diego, flashing the new tattoo there.

[superbitter]

Diego isn't against holding that kiss and he cups Klaus' face when they separate once more, just watching him for a moment, memorising the face of the man he'd thought he'd lost only an hour ago.

The tattoo is... something Diego has only seen in pictures.

"Klaus... how long were you there?"

[channellings]

Unable to help himself, he buries into Diego's hands, reaches up and cups his own around them so they'll stay put for now since it feels like if he lets go, everything will fall apart (again).

“Ten months.” Christ, that's... almost a whole year, now that he thinks about it.

Why doesn't it feel like it's been that long? Probably because for everyone else, it wasn't.

[superbitter]

"Jesus Christ, Klaus." He can't even begin to imagine the things Klaus must have seen, the things he must have done. The ghosts that must have haunted him on the battlefield. It's too horrible to even try and think about, so Diego doesn't. Instead, he wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a hug.

"You're home now. I'm here for whatever you need from me."

[channellings]

“It, it's fine. Not fine, y'know? I... I'll be okay, though.” All of those things are shit he's going to have to deal with. Maybe not now – maybe not in the next few days, even – but eventually, everything will come to a head and it'll need addressing. Until that bridge needs crossing, Klaus's completely fine with returning the hug, both arms looping tight around Diego's shoulders and squeezing reassuringly.

“Y-Yeah. This is, uh, good for now?” A beat then, “God, I missed you.”

[superbitter]

Diego just holds Klaus close, keeps his arms wrapped around him and revels in the feel of his smaller frame -more defined now than it had been the day before- and the colour that brightened his vision and threatened to overwhelm him after the hours without it.

"I was so afraid I'd lost you."

[channellings]

Yeah, the war can be thanked for that. It can be for a lot of things but definitely not for the color that'd bled back into his vision whenever he'd gotten home. That was all wholly Diego and God, he's so glad they're together again.

“I'm sorry,” Klaus whispers thickly, extricating himself enough to clasp Diego's arms and walk them backward to his bed so they can sit.

[superbitter]

Diego lets Klaus lead him to the bed and he sits beside him, so close that their thighs are pressed together from hip to knee. One arm curls around his back but the other cups his cheek and he strokes a thumb over his cheek bone.

"Don't be. You're here now. You're back with me and that's all that matters. We can get through the rest together."

[channellings]

Being this close to Diego again, it makes his heart pitter-patter and steals his breath away but also calms him in a manner no one else seems to be able to. The arm wraps around him, causing Klaus to rest some of his weight against his brother, one hand settling at the small of his back while the other reaches up, gently hooks his fingertips into the spaces between the fingers on his face.

“I, I don't know how I'm going to— to...” he lets himself trail off, shakes his head then turns and buries into Diego's neck rather than let him see the tears welling up again.

[superbitter]

Diego just holds on even tighter. His brother's breath is hot against his neck and he can feel the wetness of tears against his skin. It breaks his heart to know that he's so lost and alone and Diego has no idea how to make him feel better, how to take away his hurt.

"You won't be alone. We'll get through this together, okay? I'm never going to let you deal with this by yourself."

[channellings]

‘You won't be alone.’ The breath abruptly catches in his chest, choking off the sob attempting to slip out, his left hand reaching and cupping around his face. If there's one thing he won't be, it's that. How could he ever with Diego here?

Klaus exhales the sigh he'd been holding in, clutches both arms around his brother's shoulders again. “God, I know we've said it a million times but I'm so fucking glad you're here.”