Untapped Potential: his greatest disappointment.

Potential.

Ben wasn't sure when it started.

It was sudden. He knew that.

Klaus started shying away one day, but not in the typical sense.

His voice became brasher. His mannerisms shifted to exaggerated, but he wouldn't let people touch him. He couldn't even be near dark places.

Something happened.

For as long as Ben could remember, Klaus had problems. A lingering part of Ben had always been sympathetic for him, but a larger part- was timorously irritated by him. Klaus had always taken for granted everything Ben wanted. Everything he could've had. Everything that was ripped from his grasp- at seventeen, and nothing would undo that. But... maybe Klaus could've? If he had tried?

Still- Klaus hadn't always been this scared of himself. Of his powers. Small spaces, especially. He used to prefer darkness. He always said it blocked the spirits. Until one day, he just... stopped. He hung lights in his room, attached himself to Ben's side, and that was the day he changed. Ben wouldn't ever ask, though, as much as he craved to. He knew the answer he'd get.

He wouldn't get one.

Klaus wasn't one to share personal information. Not in that aspect. For as loud and obnoxious as he was... he was quite reserved. He didn't want to admit to weakness, not like that, and he certainly wouldn't share anything that happened to him. He'd only brag about what he was doing to himself. As if anything he was doing- was something to be proud of.

It seemed harsh to question it, anyhow. Although, as of recent, Ben couldn't decipher his emotions anymore. Who knew if that was how he felt? Maybe the pit in his stomach had, at some point, turned into curiosity the size of a boulder. His emotions, though- seemed like they were constantly too much- or nothing at all, and Ben was lost in the illusions. Not to mention that he lost track of when 'recent' had become, 'recent.'

Such as the other day; Ben and Klaus were at a rave (Ben was pretty sure that's what it was, but he didn't have a fucking clue), and Klaus owed some guy money- a lot of money. And when you owe money on the street, well, they aren't exactly professional about it. Ben had gotten so angry that he could feel the monsters in his gut. And Klaus deserved that. He was glad nothing had happened since that Klaus didn't deserve.

For reference, last time that happened, Klaus had been... well- not in the right state of mind.

But as for Klaus, it was only now- when the two were forced to huddle in the closet of a musty motel; Klaus tied to a creaking chair, wrists chaffed and marked, mouth taped as if he was an animal- that Ben regarded the severity of the problem. Finally.

Klaus's eyes were pinched shut. Muffled whimpers could be heard from behind the goddamn duct tape, and his shoulders were slumped- shaking. Tears welled under his eyes- never dropping, and his fingers tore at his arms as he shook.

Ben didn't know exactly what was going on. He knew Klaus had- had a few incidents like this before. Ben has had to witness them, but he could never figure out why they happened. A memory, probably? Whatever it may have been, Ben couldn't help in any way.

The séance was far too distant- too absorbed in his mind- to be brought out with sweet words. A ghost also cannot physically interact with a human. Not when the one who controls them is in this state- and sadly- Ben was just that. Henceforth, Ben couldn't be of use. Klaus was so far gone that Ben couldn't even see any other ghosts, implying that Klaus's powers were as tipsy as him- as rampant.

If that was anything to go by, then this was a much graver situation than Ben had originally assumed.

Consequently, all Ben could do was sit and wait as his brother began gasping for air. He was completely and utterly useless, and watching someone waste their life away wasn't astonishingly pleasant for him. But he also didn't like watching, hated being unable to help. Klaus pisses him off, but Ben would help a terrorist if he could. It was in his nature. Engraved in his DNA.