Klaus lights both of their cigarettes, and he knows he shouldn’t encourage her to smoke with a neck injury like hers, but it isn’t like he can deny her, either. Not with things going as they are. He takes a deep drag from the cigarette, holding the burn before he releases a cloud of smoke on the exhale.
When she shakes her head, he sighs and moves to curl an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. “It’s gonna be okay, Al,” he says, even though he doesn’t quite believe it himself. They’re going to have to save Vanya and keep their family from harming her in the process- he’s not sure how they’ll make it happen, but they have to try.
“And little old me? Oh, I’m fine. Nothing like the apocalypse and some existential horror to really get me going for the day,” he laughs softly and sighs, dragging from his cigarette again shortly after. He wishes his siblings would listen to him, would let him help, but he reminds himself that they don’t understand, that they don’t know what he’s capable of.
“Patrick’s gonna kill me, you know. Letting you get hurt, letting you smoke. I’m such a bad influence on you,” he teases, though there’s something weary in his voice. He doesn’t know how he will face Patrick, doesn’t know how he can return home the way things are now, but what he wouldn’t give to be on a plane headed there now. To curl up in his plush bed and drag them all beneath the covers with him.
“I don’t know how all of this is going to go,” he says quietly. “With Vanya, with the others. If the world’s really ending like Five says then we don’t have a choice but to try. For Vanya’s sake. For ours. For Claire. How did we end up in this mess again? Pretty sure we hung up our masks years ago, right?”
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When she shakes her head, he sighs and moves to curl an arm around her shoulders, tugging her into his side. “It’s gonna be okay, Al,” he says, even though he doesn’t quite believe it himself. They’re going to have to save Vanya and keep their family from harming her in the process- he’s not sure how they’ll make it happen, but they have to try.
“And little old me? Oh, I’m fine. Nothing like the apocalypse and some existential horror to really get me going for the day,” he laughs softly and sighs, dragging from his cigarette again shortly after. He wishes his siblings would listen to him, would let him help, but he reminds himself that they don’t understand, that they don’t know what he’s capable of.
“Patrick’s gonna kill me, you know. Letting you get hurt, letting you smoke. I’m such a bad influence on you,” he teases, though there’s something weary in his voice. He doesn’t know how he will face Patrick, doesn’t know how he can return home the way things are now, but what he wouldn’t give to be on a plane headed there now. To curl up in his plush bed and drag them all beneath the covers with him.
“I don’t know how all of this is going to go,” he says quietly. “With Vanya, with the others. If the world’s really ending like Five says then we don’t have a choice but to try. For Vanya’s sake. For ours. For Claire. How did we end up in this mess again? Pretty sure we hung up our masks years ago, right?”