Snippets of Memory - The Umbrella Academy

Voices in the void

"Hey, if you paid for that thing or spent energy stealing it, there's no point in wasting it on me..."
He shook his head.
"You said you liked coffee. I kept it... in case you came to this shithole."
I looked at the little can again, and smiled, because I know what a sacrifice it could be for him to give me anything.
"Thanks."

I cracked it open and - believe it or not - drank some. He lifted his waffle, and I swear he downed it in just three bites. I watched him do it and laughed. Then I cut mine in half to leave him more, and started eating my share.

"Klaus, about last time..."
I'd turned those words over so many times in my head before coming here.
"You know, this is the first time I've met someone 'like me'."
"Me too."

He kept chewing while taking the last half of waffle, without even hesitating. Depending on what he found to eat... and what substances he did or didn't take - for years - he'd go through periods where he was hungry all the time... or on the contrary, ate nothing at all. I tilted my head.

"Never?"

I was completely ignorant of my own condition, with no point of reference as to how uncommon it was. Having seen the Umbrella Academy in the media in the 2000s had convinced me that it probably wasn't that rare, but if Klaus had never met anyone like us, I began to doubt. He finished the second half of the waffle in one go, and shook his head.

"Outside of my litter of freaks, no," he said. "That's why when you turned invisible and..."
He tried in vain to convey it through gestures, not quite sure how to express it.
"Intangible?"
I sighed and added.
"I'm sorry it freaked you out."
He laughed with a hint of frustrated irony.
"You gave me a hug to demonstrate it, I don't know if you can picture how cruel that was."

Yes, I did. I realized it right then and there, and I wasn't proud of it. But at the time, I'd only scratched the surface of Klaus's state of affective deprivation, and I was also acting like the brat that - after all - I was. He was right to express it: something twisted in my stomach when he did. But on the spot, I awkwardly told him:

"I did it so you'd understand."
From under his pillow, he pulled out a bottle of gin. In hindsight, I doubt there wasn't a causal link. And he just muttered:
"Yes, I got it right".

I drank the rest of the 'coffee'. For the sugar I was going to need and the little caffeine in it. On the way here, I'd decided to get to this point, and I was bringing it like a band-aid you'd wish to rip off. Without taking into account what he was trying to express on his part, I stammered:

"Actually... there is another thing I can do."
He blinked as he uncorked the bottle of gin, resting it against his lips.
"Wait, are we talking powers or hugs now?"

I didn't even look up. I put the empty can down on the upturned crate, made a move to stand up. And *Crack!"*, I teleported myself against the rows of rusty rakes on the other side of this one-room abandoned shed. A very ordinary and utilitarian move, for me, which I even used at home to go to the bathroom, when I was in a hurry. But an action that once again had a violence on Klaus that I wouldn't have expected.

I think I felt the gin spurt from a distance of seven feet, and the metal crate nearly toppled over. He coughed, and he wasn't faking it: he really nearly choked, and I know that strong alcohol like that tears up the windpipe when it goes down the wrong way. The bottle paid for with his weekly savings rolled to the floor and began to empty. *Crack!* I came back to pick it up and clap him on the back. He continued to almost die for a moment, however, gasping for air. His reaction had been even sharper than the first time, when he could theoretically have expected anything. I didn't have the keys to understand his surprise, and I was bound not to be enlightened this time.