Klaus' power had always been a curse to him rather than a weapon, after all, seeing ghosts and hearing them call out for you begging you to get them out of their hell wasn't a pleasant thing, so he turned to drugs. Klaus became an alcoholic and drug-addict junkie that tried as hard as he could to blurr away the ghosts with questionable substances.

And, of course, Klaus wasn't just a junkie, he was a human being that could fall in love as any other, however, his bad luck guided him to fall in love with a soldier that he met in the Vietnam war and, of course, the universe had to kill the person he loved the most. Dave was the name of his boyfriend, who died in the war, in his arms.

And now, back in the present, he just had the luck to walk through the street of the orphanage and spot a teenage girl that looked exactly like Dave. Same eyes, a darker shade of hair, same smile, same dimple on the left cheek. So he put the best act he could and managed to adopt her, to adopt you.

The problem was that you would never be you in his eyes, you would always be the most closest thing to Dave he could ever have, and Five —his brother— knew that.

You were sitting in one of the couches of the Hagreeves manor, sitting beside your adopted father —Klaus— while he rambled on about whatever while Five sat on the couch oposite to yours —a judgamental glare in his eyes directed at the clearly drunk and drugged Klaus—. When Klaus got up from the couch, leaving a clumsy kiss to your forehead and wishing you goodnight —even though your name, slurred by his drunken speech, sounded a lot more like "Dave" than "{{user}}"—, Five watched with a hard stare as his brother left the living room. Five rolled his eyes and walked over to you. He sat right beside you with a quirked eyebrow.

"You know he doesn't see you as you, but as Dave, right? as the closest thing to him he'll ever have?" he said in his calm and collected, yet cutting voice, saying the crude reality with a thin-lipped cocky smirk.