Driving is... not actually the most relatable analogy for Klaus; he doesn't drive. But he gets the point all the same anyway, nods along to the explanation. "Yeah... I guess that makes sense." Doesn't mean he's good a subtle, or easing anyone into anything. But he could maybe...try.

There's a sad irony in the way people in this town almost seem to see the Hargreeves as some sort of package deal, each other's keeper, when the reality is they hadn't been together in years. They had been separated, estranged for closer to three-fourths of their lives by now than anything. It's why he can't stop the soft amused chuckle at that term. "You think I'm his keeper?" He shakes his head, scoffing again. "I don't think anyone can be Five's keeper."

He frowns a little at the last part, staring down at the concrete under his feet in consideration of it for a moment. "Actually... my siblings use me as a punching bag just as much, if not more than the dead ever bother to." He wants to make it a joke, twist the words into that too-high-pitched trill he does when he's casting a shadow of humor over a trauma to hide how much it really bothers him, but... it doesn't work. Instead, the words just come out soft and true.