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Jul. 31st, 2021 05:10 pmKlaus Hargreeves was raised to be a superhero.
Early morning runs. Daily survival training. Lectures and weapons and endless, endless cardio. There was the year Mom had to create four separate uniforms for him when he had a massive growth spurt.
He learned how to usher hostages out of danger before he grew pubic hair. He learned how to handle a gun before his voice dropped. He learned how to take a punch long before he met his first ghost.
Behind him, somewhere down this evidently endless metal chute, is an exceedingly helpful policewoman. Someone who knows Diego, someone who is now definitely in danger. His kidnappers might have picked the worst Hargreeves to kidnap if they were looking for an advantage, but he knows they are incredibly brutal. He has both first-hand knowledge, and a wealth of second-hand accounts thanks to meeting way too many tortured ghosts in the last God-knows-how-many-hours.
Maybe some of Diego's stupidly good shoot-out luck has rubbed off on the Lady Cop. Maybe she'll do the smart thing and run for the hills.
Klaus Hargreeves, once The Séance, Number Four, should go back. Save the day, all that shit.
Instead, he finally finds another opening to kick out, drags himself and his stolen briefcase to the motel office, and dials 911 from the abandoned front desk phone. He only stays on the line to report his location and that an officer is shot.
(Who knows if she is, he tells himself, maybe she was smart, maybe she got away, maybe he doesn't lie to himself nearly as well as he wishes he could.)
He then bolts for the nearest bus stop, one hand tight on the handle of the briefcase, the other just barely keeping his exceedingly nasty towel covering his skinny hips as he runs.
(After pilfering some spare change from the front desk, of course. Look, desperate times, desperate measures, he's literally on the run from a pair of sadistic assassins who seem to have it out for his brother and anyone with a connection to said brother, it's their own fault for leaving the cash drawer unattended honestly.).
There's no point being sneaky - his stupid foot is bleeding from kicking out that grate, so it's not like he'll be hard to track.
Luck is finally on his side. There's a bus just about the pull away that he manages to get on before the driver can close the door. The driver looks mightily upset about his failure to keep Klaus from boarding, which... fair. He looks like he escaped a bad BDSM/sauna setup, but whatever. He pays his fare and slumps into a seat, watching the world outside the windows worriedly until the engine blessedly revs up and they're off.
He's free.
He was trained as a superhero. But he's surviving as a normal-ass dude who has wisely decided to get the hell away.
Sorry, policewoman, whoever you are. Hope you didn't stick around.
Early morning runs. Daily survival training. Lectures and weapons and endless, endless cardio. There was the year Mom had to create four separate uniforms for him when he had a massive growth spurt.
He learned how to usher hostages out of danger before he grew pubic hair. He learned how to handle a gun before his voice dropped. He learned how to take a punch long before he met his first ghost.
Behind him, somewhere down this evidently endless metal chute, is an exceedingly helpful policewoman. Someone who knows Diego, someone who is now definitely in danger. His kidnappers might have picked the worst Hargreeves to kidnap if they were looking for an advantage, but he knows they are incredibly brutal. He has both first-hand knowledge, and a wealth of second-hand accounts thanks to meeting way too many tortured ghosts in the last God-knows-how-many-hours.
Maybe some of Diego's stupidly good shoot-out luck has rubbed off on the Lady Cop. Maybe she'll do the smart thing and run for the hills.
Klaus Hargreeves, once The Séance, Number Four, should go back. Save the day, all that shit.
Instead, he finally finds another opening to kick out, drags himself and his stolen briefcase to the motel office, and dials 911 from the abandoned front desk phone. He only stays on the line to report his location and that an officer is shot.
(Who knows if she is, he tells himself, maybe she was smart, maybe she got away, maybe he doesn't lie to himself nearly as well as he wishes he could.)
He then bolts for the nearest bus stop, one hand tight on the handle of the briefcase, the other just barely keeping his exceedingly nasty towel covering his skinny hips as he runs.
(After pilfering some spare change from the front desk, of course. Look, desperate times, desperate measures, he's literally on the run from a pair of sadistic assassins who seem to have it out for his brother and anyone with a connection to said brother, it's their own fault for leaving the cash drawer unattended honestly.).
There's no point being sneaky - his stupid foot is bleeding from kicking out that grate, so it's not like he'll be hard to track.
Luck is finally on his side. There's a bus just about the pull away that he manages to get on before the driver can close the door. The driver looks mightily upset about his failure to keep Klaus from boarding, which... fair. He looks like he escaped a bad BDSM/sauna setup, but whatever. He pays his fare and slumps into a seat, watching the world outside the windows worriedly until the engine blessedly revs up and they're off.
He's free.
He was trained as a superhero. But he's surviving as a normal-ass dude who has wisely decided to get the hell away.
Sorry, policewoman, whoever you are. Hope you didn't stick around.
