Empathy [Ben Hargreeves]

Klaus Hargreeves

☆2018☆

Brrring. Brrring.

Eloise Hargreeves startled from her nap on the lumpy couch in her living room as the kitchen phone rang off the hook from the other side of the half wall. She waited impatiently for the incessant ringing noise to stop so that she could go back to sleep. She had a late bartending shift last night and was in no mood for socialization.

Elle glanced suspiciously at the phone in its cradle from across the room when the person didn't leave a message on her answering machine. Pulling a blanket over her face, she snuggled back into her pillows.

Brrring. Brrring.

The same phone number called less than thirty seconds later. The shrill ringing noise of the telephone followed by a repeat of the caller's ID grated at Elle's nerves after several long seconds. Since the area code was familiar, she gave in with a groan and stomped her way into the kitchen.

"Hello?" Her voice was soft but impatient.

The responding voice was automated, asking if she wanted to continue to answer the collect call from The Gates at Lakeshore Hills, the local correctional facility. Elle had no doubts as to who it was. Pursing her lips and inhaling deeply to steady her racing heart, she agreed to continue to connect.

"Eloise, hey!"

"Klaus," Elle said flatly. The hand not holding her phone was clenched tightly. She didn't often talk to her five living adoptive siblings anymore. It was easier to pretend that the first seventeen years of her life didn't exist than it did to try and make sense of the train-wreck that was her childhood. "How did you get my number?"

"The internet!" he said brightly without missing a beat.

"Wonderful," Elle said with a sigh. When she left the life that she had built in a town away from Gerard, a lot of changes were made to stay hidden from her abusive ex. Including a new house number. Fear tightened her insides at the thought of being found again. She was trained to be strong, but her own emotions had been her weakness. "What do you need, Klaus?"

"Well I'm in jail --" he started.

"Clearly." She rolled her eyes, likely a toffee brown color in her irritation, even though he couldn't see it.

"Okay, Miss Moody Pants. As I was saying, I've been in jail for an exceptionally long few weeks." He hesitated; she waited impatiently. "Please don't hang up when I tell you this, but since I've been forcefully sober, I -- well, I decided that it was time to tell you that I could see Ben --"

Eloise's heart ached at the familiar name of the dead Hargreeves. Ben.

Seventeen years after his death, the hole in Elle's heart still bled and ached for the lost boy.