Various The Umbrella Academy One Shots

A Conversation With The Dead (requested)

At first, Klaus had struggled to manifest Ben in the world of the living longer than a matter of seconds, but before too long, and after a decent enough amount of practice - if the exploration of their powers ended with Ben's death, it seemed only fitting that it was for Ben that similar such explorations were able to resume - it was almost as if he had never been gone at all. Sure, it was awkward in the beginning, clumsy apologies, last words that were never able to be said filling the air but, before long, things were able to seem as normal as it could be for a family of superhero siblings ever had the hope to be.

At that particular moment, the ghost was perched upon the kitchen counter, his hands as close to being wrapped around the cup of tea that Vanya had made for herself, very much enjoying the odd half-sensations that his not-quite corporeal body could experience, an odd replacement for the usual sort of warmth that life should have brought. The room was filled with a pleasant, comfortable buzzing of life, from the fluttering of the book Vanya was reading to Klaus' faint humming along with the radio despite the radio being a room over from them at that time. It felt safe, it felt simple, and most of all, it felt real and there was something about that which none of them would want to give up for the world.

But, despite everything, there was an anxiety rolling about in the mind of The Horror. Before he died, he would have assumed that the dead could not possibly grow or change from the state they had been in when they died, and this was a perfectly reasonable assumption if ever there was one, and yet here he was, both growing and changing, as far as he was concerned. Given that he, more than a dozen years dead, could be concerned about anything at all suggests that his previous assumptions had been incorrect all along.
The pondering of the permanence of a ghostly state of being was more procrastination for the spirit than anything, and he knew this. He also knew that he was in good company and didn't need to get himself into such a flap. But still he could feel the harsh claws of fear tearing at his throat and snatching away his words, there being no breath that it could take with it.

"Hey, guys?" Ben finally began, mustering up just enough courage to be able speak. If he was able to start, and starting was always the hardest if the 'they' that so often was said to say things had anything to say about it, then he supposed he would simply have to be able to keep going. He'd put this off more than he'd like to admit, and he knew better than anyone that there was no time like the present to do things, lest that be the last moment there was to do anything at all.

The White Violin looked up from the pages she had been reading, letting out an inquisitive sort of chirp, The Séance had said something - the specific something was "What's shakin' Bendigo?" - but the sounds were quite successfully smothered by a roaring in his ears that he could have mistaken for racing blood had he not known better. Had his hands not been thoroughly clasped, they would have most certainly been shaking like a leave in a wild storm. His siblings were not oblivious to his discomfort, but they were kind enough to not acknowledge it, not wanting to further his distress.

"What would you say if I was, you know," he paused, part of him genuinely surprised by the struggle he was having to form words, or more specifically forming the right words, which was not something that should be such an ordeal to do, "Less straight than I once thought...? I've just been thinking, and, well, I mean, I don't think I am...?"
While he was sure that he was in a safe environment, the part of him that was telling him to test the waters was louder than the part that was telling him to be straight forward and get it out into the open.

"Well," Vanya begun, pausing only because of the sheer volume that came from Klaus' shifting from lazy reclining - valid, given that he was exhausting himself more than he was willing to admit keeping Ben visible to the others - to an upright sitting sort of position, "Then, and I'm talking for both of us," a beat passed where she locked eyes with her living sibling for permission to do so, a nod granting this, "We would have to say that we are honoured that you were willing to tell us something so personal, and would remind you that we love you for who you are, and that you aren't alone." She might not have gotten a mighty speech, or any speech at all when she was coming to terms with the matters of her own sexuality, but she would be damned if her brother didn't get all the love and reassurance that he needed.

"And," continued Klaus, exhausting dragging his words back just a little, "Make sure that you knew that you don't have to lock yourself into any, like, ridged terms or anything until you find the sort of proverbial coat that fits and fits you as the you that is you." Although he might not have been the most coherent in his addition, it was undeniable that it brought a smile to the face of the one that it was intended, and that was what mattered in the end.

Ghosts, it turned out, could shed tears that were happy as well as the sort that came from torment and agony, a fact that Ben had the good fortune of being able to learn when he had to blink away the few tears that began to bud in the corner of his eyes.
"Thank you," said he, his voice almost lost, a lightness shaping his disposition.