He's sitting at the counter, a hoodie pulled up over his head, as he eats his fourth donut. Or maybe it's his twelfth. He's not sure anymore. He just knows he's been waiting here a while and that somehow each donut tastes exactly the way it did as a kid, light and fluffy with just enough frosting to leave him wanting more.

He hears the bell over the door ring as someone walks in and he shifts in his chair to see Klaus walk in like he owns the place. He looks like shit, but his voice carries through the empty shop, his sing song filling the space. Ben spins around to face him, licking a bit of chocolate frosting off his thumb.

"No, it's not," Ben says, and he wonders if even now he can't help but contradict Klaus out of pure habit. The last few years had been different than the ones before. If only because Klaus had actually been sober enough to listen to him and still ignored most of what he said.

"We don't have long," he says, giving Klaus an apologetic look. "So we're going to have to make this fast."

He pauses, smiling despite himself. "You know, she really doesn't like you."