His heart skips in his chest under what feels like an accusation, a realization of his uselessness, his lack of follow through—
"Number Four, you failed what I tasked you with again."
"You cannot allow your fears to rule you, Séance."
"At this rate, you will never unlock yo true potential, Number Four."
Klaus feels his stomach twist with his father's voice ringing all too clear in his head. He sees the look on Malcolm’s face so clearly: Just another in a long line of disappointments created by him.
"I don’t... not want to do it, I just... I don’t know how." He stops staring at the couch cushion and instead raises his gaze back to Malcolm’s face. "I barely got out of bed... I can barely string coherent thoughts together right now... I died and came back... twice. I- I woke up in the graveyard and- and I feel like there’s something in my head. It- it’s like-" he shakes his head, "I don’t know. It’s like...spiders, in my head. And everything’s foggy and cluttered and it’s choking me, from the inside out."
He’s not really looking at Malcolm anymore, his vision is pointed to some middle distance behind his shoulder. "Maybe I should let it... maybe it would ssstick this time," he holds the word out and his voice fades into silence after that.
Klaus hasn’t felt like this in a long time, and there’s a swell of panic that threatens to rise up into the center of his chest, but the melancholic thing pushing those words out of his mouth is stronger and pushes it back. Numb is better than panic, right...?
cw: depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation
"I don’t... not want to do it, I just... I don’t know how." He stops staring at the couch cushion and instead raises his gaze back to Malcolm’s face. "I barely got out of bed... I can barely string coherent thoughts together right now... I died and came back... twice. I- I woke up in the graveyard and- and I feel like there’s something in my head. It- it’s like-" he shakes his head, "I don’t know. It’s like...spiders, in my head. And everything’s foggy and cluttered and it’s choking me, from the inside out."
He’s not really looking at Malcolm anymore, his vision is pointed to some middle distance behind his shoulder. "Maybe I should let it... maybe it would ssstick this time," he holds the word out and his voice fades into silence after that.
Klaus hasn’t felt like this in a long time, and there’s a swell of panic that threatens to rise up into the center of his chest, but the melancholic thing pushing those words out of his mouth is stronger and pushes it back. Numb is better than panic, right...?