Klaus snorts at the idea, but it isn't like he knows anything about his sister's life at this point. Other than the very true, scathing book she wrote, none of them really know her. Honestly, they don't know one another well at all. Klaus has had the benefit of living with Allison for the past seven years or so, but otherwise, the rest of them might as well be strangers.
He wants nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep for the remainder of the day, but the tone of Allison's voice tells him that's not in the scope of possibility right now. There's so much going on and they need to work together to solve it.
Pulling away from her, he scrubs his hands over his face a few times, as though trying to wake himself from whatever nightmare all of this culminates to. It doesn't work.
"Right, then. Where should we start. I think I need to powder my little nose before I do anything outlandish but otherwise, darling, I'm all yours."
It's easier this way. Easier to throw the walls up and put on a good face, make some flippant comment and wrap the sorrow up tight, lock it deep in his chest until he can shut the door and be alone. He needs to be alone, to see if maybe calling out into the ether, yelling Dave's name deep in the recesses of his mind might draw the man back, even if it's only for one last visit.
His stomach churns sickly in his stomach and he pushes away from Allison suddenly, stumbling to the trash can on the other side of the room so he can vomit. Nothing much comes from it, other than heaves that wrack his body to its core, leaving him shaking. "I'm good. I just... you know, need a second or two. Or a baseball bat to the skull. That'd do nicely."
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Klaus snorts at the idea, but it isn't like he knows anything about his sister's life at this point. Other than the very true, scathing book she wrote, none of them really know her. Honestly, they don't know one another well at all. Klaus has had the benefit of living with Allison for the past seven years or so, but otherwise, the rest of them might as well be strangers.
He wants nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep for the remainder of the day, but the tone of Allison's voice tells him that's not in the scope of possibility right now. There's so much going on and they need to work together to solve it.
Pulling away from her, he scrubs his hands over his face a few times, as though trying to wake himself from whatever nightmare all of this culminates to. It doesn't work.
"Right, then. Where should we start. I think I need to powder my little nose before I do anything outlandish but otherwise, darling, I'm all yours."
It's easier this way. Easier to throw the walls up and put on a good face, make some flippant comment and wrap the sorrow up tight, lock it deep in his chest until he can shut the door and be alone. He needs to be alone, to see if maybe calling out into the ether, yelling Dave's name deep in the recesses of his mind might draw the man back, even if it's only for one last visit.
His stomach churns sickly in his stomach and he pushes away from Allison suddenly, stumbling to the trash can on the other side of the room so he can vomit. Nothing much comes from it, other than heaves that wrack his body to its core, leaving him shaking. "I'm good. I just... you know, need a second or two. Or a baseball bat to the skull. That'd do nicely."