Klaus knows the look on Diego's face intimately; the man has gone somewhere far off, distant, and even though his body is otherwise rooted in the infirmary, he might as well be somewhere else. Maybe it's a street of New York, maybe it's the blood splattered motel room, maybe it's the cabin where they found Allison. Klaus will never know where the man's mind goes, but he knows it's a journey that could very well rip ones heart out.

His eyes raise when the man pats his hand and he smiles faintly, sadly. "Yes, well, I'm sorry all the same. After all, if she put up with you in any capacity, she must have been an excellent woman."

Klaus almost offers, almost suggests they conjure her, because he might be able to. He's too afraid to reach into the ether, to feel out for the edges of her existence. Would it be worth it, pulling her back from the other side for a fleeting goodbye? What would it do for Diego? What would it do for her spirit in unrest?

But he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes tangy copper and lets out a little huff. His free hand reaches to pat the hand over his own, giving it a soft squeeze before he pulls them back altogether, back into his own lap, cradling the coffee mug he sat aside.

"Talk about a family reunion, huh?" He tilts his head a little, blowing out a long sigh. "If I could have stopped it, I would have. I was afraid they'd find the rest of you. Just means that when we see them again, we owe them a real whopping, huh?"

Nothing will take the pain away, nothing will cure the hurt of the loss, nothing will really bring her back. Not yet. Not permanently. Klaus's eyes shift at movement in the corner of his eye, and whether Diego will be able to feel it or not, Ben's there, hand on his brother's shoulder.

Not yet, Klaus knows. Not yet. Even Ben gives a sad shake of his head, and Klaus almost feels guilty all over again. Isn't that always the story of their lives, as Hargreeves children? Not yet? Not enough?

"I'm sorry, man."