trashbinned | three & four;

"Oh, right. Yeah, she's got powers. Turns out dear old dad used Allison to convince her that she was powerless after all. All because daddy was afraid."

The fact that Reginald feared something and chose to suppress it? It makes Klaus erupt into laughter, a little unhinged, perhaps. After all, what did his father do except throw him to the wolves when he admitted how afraid he was of the ghosts, the undead? To think that Reginald would take the easy way out?

"What a bastard," he sighs. "But yeah, Vanya went bananas, naturally, but Allison stopped her in the end. Now we're all on our way to being one great, big fucked up family, yay." He raises his fists and gives them a little cheering shake. "But it's for the best, I guess. Allison and I caught a plane back here as fast as we could, obviously."

He reaches to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear, hands fishing for his mug afterward. "That place isn't good for any of us, but family's family I guess."

As much as a part of him regrets asking for details, for the most part he’s glad for it. It’s like he’s seeing missing pieces from the puzzle and, while it’s hard to know what’s going through Allison’s head right now especially since she can’t verbalize anything, this at least helps to put it together. He’ll never agree that Vanya had any right to hurt Allison the way she did, but maybe that’s just the bias in him.

Scrubbing a hand along his face, he sighs wearily before getting up for another refill of coffee and topping off Klaus’ mug as well. He needs to move, somehow staying still felt stifling for a moment.

“I’m really glad you guys came back as soon as you did.” Before anything else could happen. It could be argued that they could have probably waited a few days, considering Allison looked like she might faint by the time they landed as the last few days and almost dying caught up to her, but the selfish part of him is just glad they’re home now. Safe.

Or, well, as safe as they can be.

“If you need anything,” he says after a moment, leaning against the counter. “Anything at all. I hope you know I’m here. I’m not planning on going back to the office at least until...you know. She’s feeling somewhat better. So, really. Whatever you need.”

Klaus knows that they had almost come back sooner, and a part of him wishes they had. Allison wouldn't be the way she is, after all, but the world might have ended. It's a 50/50 deal, isn't it? Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

He smiles at the top-off of coffee, reaching one hand to brush fingers against Patrick's arm as the man moves around the kitchen.

"Oh I only need your eternal love and affection to soothe my aching, broken heart, Patrick, don't you know that?" He chuckles to himself and drinks from his mug again, humming contentedly at the warmth it provides. "I'll get her to a doctor, go back to work myself. The yogis of high Hollywood are a'calling after all. I think keeping busy will help. The sleeping, the urges, everything." His free hand absently rises to he dog tags, thumbing them, feeling the stamped ridges that press little David Katz indents into his skin.

"God, I should try and sleep."

By now Patrick is so used to Klaus’ comments that he just chuckles, shaking his head. He doesn’t mind them, though, especially now. It’s at least one thing that hasn’t changed, and he’s goddamned thankful for that.

“You should,” he agrees, turning to him and extending his hand so he can take back his cup of coffee.

“Why don’t you go to sleep in my room? God knows I won’t be sleeping any time soon, and I have some things to catch up on, anyway. I think Allison could use your company as much as you could probably use hers.”

Klaus turns away from Patrick's extended hand with mock offense on his face as he takes a few final sips of the coffee. He probably shouldn't be drinking it at all, it's bound to keep him up longer, but there's something comforting in the rush of the caffeine and warmth.

"You should sleep, too, mind you," he huffs and finally relinquishes the cup. Only when Patrick is on the move again does Klaus push away from the counter. He curls his arms around Patrick's waist from behind and presses his cheek against the man's shoulder. "But until then, you are a saint among men, a gentleman and a scholar. Thanks."

He grins and releases him, skirting past the man with a little wiggle-wave of his fingers. He stretches his arms high over his head as he steps into the hallway, pausing to looking back at the man. "We'll have the old Allison back before you know it." He smiles still, but there's an edge to it, a sadness, an understanding. "See you in the morning."

“Yeah yeah, I’ll nap later, don’t worry.”

He might just go lay down in Claire’s bed, whether or not he’s tired. At least having his daughter close, watching her sleep, will help calm everything that’s rattling around in his brain.

The hug makes Patrick smile fondly, and while he can’t exactly return it, he pats his arm before moving to the sink to rinse the mugs as Klaus resumes his walk out of the kitchen. At his words about getting the old Allison back, he turns back to Klaus, a small smile of his own pulls at his lips but it’s not very convincing. He isn’t sure anymore if the old Allison is really trapped in there, like how her voice is, and just can’t find her way back anymore or if what happened has flipped everything. It’s probably too early to tell, but the murkiness of it all makes it hard to really even think this could be just temporary.

He doesn’t say that, though. He just nods as if he believes it, and in appreciation for Klaus. In gratefulness for the fact that he’s here, that he’s not fighting him on going to lay down with Allison because at least that feels normal.

“See you in the morning,” he echoes before turning back to finish cleaning up, letting himself get lost in the silence of the house.

Klaus gives a little wave in Patrick's direction, "See you. Don't stay up too late, mister. If the adoring fans see us both with bags under our eyes, whatever will they think?"

He pads down the hall, pausing to peek in at Claire, who should be sound asleep. She isn't, and when he pokes his head into her room she peers up at him, giving a sleepy wave. "Ohhh, someone's in trouble. They woke the princess from her beauty sleep." And he sneaks in to kiss her forehead, listens to her mumble something sleepily incoherent, before he all but bundles her up into her blankets. (She often brags about how Klaus is the best 'tucker-inner' in the house).

Once he's sure the little one is tucked safely into her bed and asleep, he turns back to the hall and slips into Patrick and Allison's bedroom. He doesn't bother shucking off his jeans, instead just sliding into the warm, empty space beside his sister. He's been in this spot before, in days long past when nightmares kept him up and the shakes prevented anything else.

So he's careful and quiet when he sinks his weight into the bed and tucks himself away under the covers. He doesn't expect to fall asleep as quickly as he does, but exhaustion finally takes its toll. He drifts off. At some point in his sleep he shifts, tossing and turning with the occasional fright, and ends up all but snuggled to her side, seeking out warmth as he rests.

Allison doesn’t move when Klaus slips into bed with her, the effects of the painkillers helping her relax enough to at least rest. Even if she has been in bed, and sleeping more than she has ever slept in her life, every time she tries to sleep she’s haunted. By Reginald, by Vanya, by memories that she has suppressed that have made their way forth at full strength.

But, for now she just sleeps. At some point she opens her eyes slightly, still drowsy and her thoughts feeling sluggish, but when she sees Klaus sleeping next to her she just lets herself drift off again. She doesn’t even question it; seeing her brother is so comforting that she doesn’t bother waking up completely, and she lets herself slip back into the comfortable darkness she had been in before.

The stillness doesn’t last for long, though. She dreams of the cabin, the way the whole place rattled. The way the lightbulbs shattered around her.

”I heard a rumor—”

She gasps, her mouth opening to cry out, but nothing comes out. That’s when she realizes she’s not in the cabin anymore. It’s her bedroom ceiling above her. Vanya isn’t here, the room isn’t shaking anymore, and even if in some level she knows it had been a nightmare, a hand still flies to her neck. She fully expects to feel blood, to feel the way it kept slipping through her fingers, but there’s nothing except for the gauze covering the stitches. And, god, she feels so stupid. She feels so stupid for the way she’s shaking, how her heart feels like it’s going to burst out of her chest. How her stomach feels like it swirls uncomfortably, and she closes her eyes as if willing it all to stop.

There are a thousand places that Klaus would rather be than at some stuffy little awards after party. He usually enjoys going out with Allison, making sure she's dressed to the height of fashion before they make some grand, Hollywood entrance. And while she's earned all the accolades this time for her dramatic comeback into show business, Klaus finds this group a little boring.

Some parties have wild music and too much champagne, bouncers and waiters who are eager to get an extra tip, men and women who pass out $100 bills like they're candy on Halloween.

So Klaus has tucked himself along one corner of the bar for a moment, letting Allison strut her stuff and look radiant. As her dutiful plus one tonight, he keeps a watchful eye on her from a distance, occasionally chatting with a few familiar faces, a couple of his celebrity clients, nothing but superficial kisses on cheeks and gushing oh I just love that skirt that train is to die for.

It is a good train, he thinks as he slides off his bar stool, effectively scooping the fabric of his skirt up with him. It's a loud getup, even for the Hollywood elite, but that's how he keeps his nights interesting when he knows the after party is just a glorified networking show and tell. Which his why, to his great surprise, he over hears some laughter, a few shocked whispers. He's heard the name Tony Stark, seen him at a couple of Allison's events, and as it stands he looks to be the most interesting thing in the room.

So with a keen eye for detail, Klaus orders two drinks— something fruity and non-alcoholic for him, and something strong on the rocks for a man he barely knows. He steps up once there's a lull in the conversation, working himself in with a flourish. (But a man who wears a skin-tight crop top and a skirt with an elegant train can hardly go unnoticed).

"Thank god someone has a sense of humor here. I was beginning to wonder if everyone here was dead."

The effects of time travel and the general coming of the apocalypse have turned Klaus into a light sleeper. So when Allison gasps and jerks to consciousness, he wakes, too. It takes a second for him to understand whats going on, all sleepy brained and sleepy eyed, but he reaches for her arm instinctively.

"Al?"

He pushes himself up and rubs his free hand over his eyes, back through his wild hair. "Hey, hey, hey," he finally mutters, reaching to curl his arms around her beneath the covers and pull her close to his chest.

"I got you. Just take some deep breaths. In and out, atta girl..."

The sound of his voice alone helps to ground her, reminding her of where she is and where she isn’t, and she buries her face in his chest as she holds onto him. Allison isn’t a stranger to nightmares - she doubts anyone in her family is - but she’s not used to them being this strong anymore. She can still feel the blood on her, the sense of helplessness and dread as she bled out on the floor of that goddamned cabin hitting her like a ton of bricks, but she tries to follow Klaus’ instructions even if her lungs feel too small for her body. If she had her voice, it’d be impossible to hide the way her breath shudders into a sort of whimper as she transitions between the remnants of the nightmare to actually being awake, but instead there’s nothing. Just absolute silence from her end, except for the way her breathing finally settles into a more normal level.

For a moment she stays still, not willing to move at first, but eventually she pulls back slightly once she trusts herself a little bit more. She feels so stupid, when Klaus is the one that had gone back in time - to war, no less - and she’s here. Freaking out about what happened.

She swallows hard, her features pinching with pain for a moment before she finally makes eye contact with Klaus even if she looks embarrassed more than anything else as she mouths a silent I’m sorry to him.

Klaus can practically see the blood himself as well. The whole car ride spent with ratcheted nerves only to find his sister bleeding out and dying. (Klaus had believed she was dead when he first saw her, and he can’t forgive the thought). He squeezes her tight against his chest, reaching to pet her hair, anything he can do to help sooth her back into some semblance of calm.

He kisses her temple and sighs.

“Why are you apologizing? Trust me, if you hasn’t woken me I was about thirty seconds from a snoring session that would wake the whole house. I could feel it. I could.”

Klaus lets his mouth run away with him in situations like this, knowing the humor provides a buffer for both parties to ease back into whatever feels normal.

“Keep breathing, you’re fine. You’re home. I’d claim I could scare away the big bads, but they don’t exactly fall under my purview most days. It really should be, however. I can never conjure anyone fun.”

Allison breathes out a silent huff that's intended to be a chuckle, closing her eyes for a moment. She feels her lips tremble as she does so, the relief of being here and being home suddenly overwhelming, but she bites the inside of her cheek tightly as if to force herself to pull herself together.

God, she thinks, she's such a mess. Her eyes feel puffy - from sleep or from crying earlier with Patrick, she isn't sure - and she feels like crap, but she curls against Klaus. For a moment she just does as he suggests, she just keeps breathing, until she's close to a semblance of normal even if that new definition of it is skewed at this point.

Turning to her brother, she reaches up at him to touch his face, to try to look at him. She can't verbally ask how he's doing, but thankfully her facial expressions are obvious enough to inquire nonetheless. Yes, in a lot of ways she's deflecting, but she also wants to know considering she has been worried about him as well.

Every once in a while, when Tony is bored, he attends the parties that the Hollywood elites keep begging him to go to. For publicity, to promote something by just having his name attached to it, for the hell of it - he gets too many invitations to keep track of. A lot of the time he tells Pepper to toss them, not even bothering to read them, but every once in a while he ventures out to keep things interesting.

Tonight isn't overly interesting, though, because Klaus isn't the only one that's bored with the current crowd. It has nothing to do with the crowd, though, and more to do with him; although he'll never admit it, this is all starting to get old. The parade of people and the red carpet, the posing, the cameras, the lightbulbs going off in a million directions. Tony has dealt with it all since he was a child, the Stark name demanding him to perform long before he could even realize what he was really doing, and by now it's all an old act. And, to his credit, he plays his part well; he smiles, and drinks, and flirts like a pro.

He's about to slink away to the bar for a refill, almost as an excuse to peel himself away from current company, when he sees the other man walking up to him. Not that he'd be hard to notice, considering his outfit, and he smiles with the usual Stark charisma that basically oozes out of him.

"Not quite, I think there's hope for them, yet." He notices the drinks he's holding, and his smile widens. "Are you that thirsty, or do you need any help with that?"

Klaus knows too well that the little circle of conversationalists eye him when he approaches. He enjoys dipping his toes in the waters he doesn't belong in, he always has. In fact, that he started attending parties like this, that he started to endear himself to the gentrified wealthy, well. That had never really been in the plans. He'd only wanted to go to a party with Allison, and one thing lead to another.

So when Tony asks about the drinks, he shrugs a shoulder, holding one glass out to the man. "You're far more optimistic than I am, considering grandpa's asleep in the corner over there." He tilts his head to one older celebrity, asleep with his head back in one of the booths. "But I thought I would offer you a life raft in the form of something strong and hard, so you could avoid that most terrible fate."

He sips from his own drink after, shaking the glass for Tony just enough to let the ice cubs clink together for added effect.

"Should I get your assistant? I can't promise it's not laced with something fun."

This isn’t the first time that he has seen Klaus Hargreeves at these places - he’s hard to not notice, after all, with his fashion statements - but it is the first time that he’s having the pleasure of seeing him up close. As he speaks, especially with the quips that sound so much like something he’d say, he finds himself wondering why they haven’t bumped into each other sooner.

“So thoughtful of you,” he says with a chuckle, stepping closer to him which ends up almost cutting out the rest of the group in the process so that it’s more obvious this is now a two people conversation. There are mutters around them as they disperse, but Tony couldn’t care less.

Pretending to consider his options, he pauses for a moment before he shrugs and reaches for the glass. “I mean, what’s life without a little fun. I like to take my chances.”

He offers his hand to formally introduce himself. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet?”

"I can't let a man die of thirst, especially with such a tough crowd."

Klaus wiggles his fingers at the grumbling crowd, sure to present the palm that has goodbye inked across it. He looks back at Tony once the coast is clear and reaches for Tony's hand, giving it a shake.

"Klaus Hargreeves. Enchantée. You're that Stark guy, right?"

Of course Klaus knows who he is— Tony Stark isn't a man who shows up unnoticed at a party. But there's always a bit of fun in playing ignorant, no less when it seems everyone all but falls at Tony's feet when he arrives. Klaus isn't here for anything but entertainment, where as he's sure other guests might see Tony as a rung on a social ladder, or a pocket full of dollar signs.

"My sister was the star of the movie, if you saw it. She's the bombshell in blue over there, looking like she might rip the eyes out of the old man talking to her. Isn't she charming?"

“I’m glad someone was attentive to my plight. Thanks for the drink.”

It’s not new for someone to try to get him a drink, but he’s hardly this appreciative of the company because he has come to know when someone is trying to schmooze him for something. Ideas, funding, a picture - the list is endless. It becomes a charade that’s ultimately annoying, but as always he plays the part to a certain degree. Although, even when he tries to slink away or be flippant about it, people don’t mind it because that’s so Tony.

Klaus doesn’t feel like that, and while some part of him is still waiting for the other shoe to drop just out of habit, he just chuckles when he asks if he’s ‘that Stark guy.’

“I am. People call me Tony, so you know. Sounds better than ‘that Stark guy.’”

He takes a sip of his drink as he glances over to Allison Hargreeves, looking regal in her gown. And lethal, based on that look in her eyes, so he makes a note to not necessarily use his usual lines on her.

“She was great in it. I caught the last half - can’t be on time to save my life - but the accolades are definitely deserving.” He motions to Klaus’ outfit. “And I’ve got to say, you’re both quite the fashionable pair. I think I’ve read somewhere you’re to thank for that, yeah?”

Klaus keeps her close to his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her. He waits for her breathing to even out before he even considers loosening his hold, and even then it's only enough for her to move and look up at him.

"I'm fine," he murmurs, leaning his face against her hand, smiling a little. "I promise. Maybe a little sad, a little angry, and very tired but fine. I think I might even go back to work. Stretching and all that stupid meditation bullshit does wonders for the brain, or so they say. I let the rich bastards believe what they want."

He kisses her forehead, loud and over the top, before looking down at her again. "Maybe you, me and Claire can do some family yoga. Let Patrick laugh at us. Ooh, or better yet, I'll make Patrick put on the little tights and do it. Good fun for all of us."

"Hmm, Tony. It doesn't quite roll off the tongue the same way, but if you insist."

Klaus does a little twirl, careful of the short train on his skirt, before he dips into a low curtsy, all the while keeping his drink upright. The hidden perks of yoga. He rights himself and sips from his drink.

"Hmm, maybe. She had a stylist try and put her in two year old Chanel and I couldn't let such a travesty fall upon my sister. This little getup is just leftovers. Her closet is to die for, and there isn't anything I won't try on. Though you'd think I'd shown up naked for all the head turning. Poor little Edna over there almost had a coronary because she could see my navel. The horror."

He grins around the lip of his drink as he sips again. "But my sister is happily married, could kick your ass to next Sunday, and is very talented, thank you so much for saying so."

It’s comforting, to have Klaus here and she finds herself thanking the fact that he had been here when she had woken up. While she hates to put anything of what she’s dealing through on anyone, the part of her that has always worried that her old life is too much for Patrick stresses about adding more to everything. He’s doing great, and while she trusts him, she can’t help but worry considering this isn’t at all what he had been used to with her.

With Klaus, she hates adding more to what he himself went through during their trip home, but at the same time the fact that they both went through hell together helps in knowing that he understands this aftermath. She hates that he understands it, because she’ll never stop wishing that he didn’t have to, but selfishly it helps her to not feel so lonely.

She tries to return the smile, but it barely comes out as a twitch of her lips. She even nods slightly when he says that he’s planning on going back to work because she hopes that will help him, but she pauses when he suggests a session of family yoga. She wants to say no, getting up sounds exhausting, but she already knows Klaus probably won’t take no for an answer. Although, if she’s honest with herself, maybe it’s not a terrible idea. The mental image alone actually manages to make her breathe out what would be a chuckle, and this time a hint of a smile curves at her lips.

With a small sigh, she nods slightly in agreement. She looks a little hesitant, but who is she kidding. She can’t deny Klaus anything.

“Hm, give it time. I’m sure once you use it enough it’ll roll off the tongue just fine.”

He winks, as if implying he’ll give him plenty of reasons to use his name tonight.

At the curtsy, Tony chuckles and raises his glass slightly to him. “Very nice. Yeah, well, I’m sure Edna is wearing ten-year old Chanel. You’d figure with as much money as these people spend, they’d be a bit more fashion forward.”

Without missing a beat at the comment about his sister, he just grins and tilts his head slightly, curious. “Yeah? And what about you, what’s your situation? I don’t see a ring, so is it safe to assume no spouse?”

"Is that so? I'll have to work on that. If I say your name three times, do you magically appear, Tony?"

He teases, drawing the man's name out in a near purr, all teasing and easy. Klaus flirts with anything and everything and sometimes he doesn't even catch himself doing it.

"Alas I am married to my work," he sighs dramatically, waving a hand at the thought. "That and marriage is such an ugly thing sometimes. I'd rather be miserably alone the rest of my long, beautiful life than end up attending parties and worrying if my dear, sweet husband remembered his depends or not."

He huffs a laugh, shifting a little to look out over the room, but the move only brings him a little closer to Tony. He reaches for the man's free hand shamelessly, plucking it up and turning it this way and that. "Looks like we're in the same boat. Consider me surprised, Mr. Rich and Famous Tony Stark."

"Oh, good. I'll make sure to let them both know to come prepared for a grueling workout, where the Hargreeves will undoubtably kick both of their asses."

Klaus squeezes his sister softly before he releases her, only to flop back down into the bed.

"But your instructor for the day requires a few more hours of beauty sleep. Or at least quality snuggling with his sister in her marriage bed, of course!" He stretches his arms out wide and all but rolls around in the blankets before he all but flops on her in return.

"So we shall rest, we shall wake and do yoga and maybe even ice cream because ice cream seems like the best post-workout treat. That and I think Claire has been subtly hinting at it because she keeps drawing me pictures of very unfortunate looking ice cream cones. If she wasn't but seven years old I'd be very concerned with all the implications."

“Yep, like Beetlejuice, but hotter. Just don’t tell anyone my secret, please. Can’t have Edna summoning me out of nowhere.”

Tony laughs at his response about marriage, and nods slightly as if to say ‘fair enough.’ As he stands closer to him, he grins, enjoying this more than he probably should. It’s nice, though, to have someone be bold enough to do this considering there’s always some degree of something (he hates calling it intimidation, he’s allergic to it) in most interactions he deals with.

“I’m chronically single, I’m afraid. For similar reasons you have; it’s easier to just enjoy life like this and enjoy it one night at a time.”

He smiles. “I’ve gotta say, it’s nice to meet likeminded individuals on this. I tend to get the opposite.”

three & four;

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cw: nightmares/blood

this ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse;

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