Diego rolls his eyes as well, although it’s halfhearted at best.
Until Klaus insists that he’s staying here for as long as it’s needed, and it makes him frown because no, he refuses to accept that. The idea of being on a hospital bed, with an IV in his arm shakes something within him that makes him almost nauseous.
Ah, so there’s a sensible Hargreeves after all, he can hear Patch saying as if she’s here in the room, how she always would be whenever he’d do something stupid and he’d find himself on a hospital bed. How she had been when he almost died, and had been unconscious for days. He can almost see her, too, on the chair that Klaus had been sitting on busy moments ago. The way her eyes betrayed the anger on her face, how the fear of losing him was stronger than her frustrations at how stupid Diego could be while he worked. And, although she’s not real and he’s just imagining her, it still makes his stomach twist with guilt.
He doesn’t say anything, though. For a moment it just looks as if he’s lost in thought, as if he’s still trying to clear the haze he’s in, even if for a moment the pain reflecting in his eyes is beyond whatever he could be feeling physically.
But then Klaus’s voice registers, and Diego closes his eyes for a moment as he tries to refocus. “I don’t know. I was working, then things went to shit. I don’t...remember much beyond that.” The way his brow furrows in frustration as he opens his eyes makes it obvious he’s not just trying to avoid the question, it’s the truth. He had blacked out at some point, and it all feels like a very distant, painful blur that he can’t quite bring into focus. He’s sore everywhere, and breathing feels like a strain considering the way the pain flares with every inhale, but he’s no stranger to broken ribs. Between his ‘job’ and the fights at the gym, he knows damn well what he’s looking at in terms of recovery. He’s not happy about it, but he at least knows what to expect.
“I need to get out of here,” he says with a sigh, starting to reach over for the IV line even if he can already guess the effort won’t go far. “I can’t be here.”
no subject
Until Klaus insists that he’s staying here for as long as it’s needed, and it makes him frown because no, he refuses to accept that. The idea of being on a hospital bed, with an IV in his arm shakes something within him that makes him almost nauseous.
Ah, so there’s a sensible Hargreeves after all, he can hear Patch saying as if she’s here in the room, how she always would be whenever he’d do something stupid and he’d find himself on a hospital bed. How she had been when he almost died, and had been unconscious for days. He can almost see her, too, on the chair that Klaus had been sitting on busy moments ago. The way her eyes betrayed the anger on her face, how the fear of losing him was stronger than her frustrations at how stupid Diego could be while he worked. And, although she’s not real and he’s just imagining her, it still makes his stomach twist with guilt.
He doesn’t say anything, though. For a moment it just looks as if he’s lost in thought, as if he’s still trying to clear the haze he’s in, even if for a moment the pain reflecting in his eyes is beyond whatever he could be feeling physically.
But then Klaus’s voice registers, and Diego closes his eyes for a moment as he tries to refocus. “I don’t know. I was working, then things went to shit. I don’t...remember much beyond that.” The way his brow furrows in frustration as he opens his eyes makes it obvious he’s not just trying to avoid the question, it’s the truth. He had blacked out at some point, and it all feels like a very distant, painful blur that he can’t quite bring into focus. He’s sore everywhere, and breathing feels like a strain considering the way the pain flares with every inhale, but he’s no stranger to broken ribs. Between his ‘job’ and the fights at the gym, he knows damn well what he’s looking at in terms of recovery. He’s not happy about it, but he at least knows what to expect.
“I need to get out of here,” he says with a sigh, starting to reach over for the IV line even if he can already guess the effort won’t go far. “I can’t be here.”