She tries to speak over him, but Klaus keeps talking and there’s not a lot she can say. What could she say? She knows it isn’t fair to ask this of him. But, at the same time, leaving him to figure it out feels wrong, too. There’s a brief moment when she finds herself tempted to Rumor him, to convince him to come with her and damn the consequences, but she bites the inside of her lips as if to force herself to not go there no matter how much she wants to.
When he stands, Allison shoots up too, trying so hard to not shove him back on the bed but staying close enough in case he needs support. Last thing she wants is for him to fall and hurt himself.
When his palms press against his ears, Allison starts to approach him again. If he pulls back or away she won’t force him to come into contact with her, but if he lets her she’s ready to at least steady him.
Klaus lets her close, lets her steady him because he needs it. His legs don't feel like his underneath him, but they're strong, despite it all. He keeps his hands clamped over his ears, keeps his eyes screwed shut until whatever haunt was lingering nearby finally fades away. Allison's touch brings him back to the surface of it all and he reaches for the bedside, sitting like she's asked him to, letting his fingers twist tightly in the overturned bed covers.
He leans forward into her, pressing his face against her shoulder, his own shoulders shaking as he comes down from the hysteria, the tears. He tries to focus on the monitors, the way they alarm, dissonant. "I can hear them everywhere," he says quietly. It's a hospital. So many people have died here. "The longer I sit here, the more I see. They come out of the fucking walls in swarms. I need to be numb again."
Thankfully this is Allison he's making the desperate plea to and not a frenzied hospital orderly. After all, they'd diagnose him with hallucinations and psychotic breaks and maybe even a dash of schizophrenia if he's not too careful. He sucks in a shaky breath, using every beat of his heart to begin laying the bricks of his defenses.
"Welcome home, Allison! Did you know your brother is a fucking mess? He sure is pretty but that's about all he's got going for him. Don't get too close, he might have rabies."
It's a relief, for him to not push away, and she is quick to provide him the support that he needs. When he leans forward, his face on her shoulder, she rests a hand against the nape of his neck, keeping him close while the other hand rubs his back in hopes that it would soothe him.
"We're all a fucking mess," she murmurs against his hair. "You know that hasn't changed just because we're not all at the house together."
She presses a kiss against the top of his head again, quiet for a moment before she speaks. "Give me ten minutes and I'll get you out of here, we'll go to a hotel and you can rest there." A beat. "You can figure out what you want to do after you get more sleep. Are you feeling well enough to do that?"
Klaus laughs weakly and leans back, holding his hands up in false surrender. "But I'm a danger to myself. They will strongly advise you to think twice about such a morally poor decision."
Rolling his eyes he carefully slides back onto the bed, the weight of his body heavy as he flops onto his side. "Besides what would I do without my fill of artificially flavored gelatin."
All his bravado doesn't mask the way his hands shake uncontrollably, the way he sweats, the way he scratches at his forearms like his skin is like to crawl off his body. "But honestly a hotel sounds amazing," he admits, a tiny crack in the facade. "A real fucking bath tub. God." He could cry at the thought of it.
"Fine, I'll get a private doctor to keep an eye on you. I'll figure it out."
She has thought this through already, what she would do after leaving the hospital. This is her first rodeo with him like this, but she has been busy already trying to think of scenarios and what she would be doing to help him through it. One of the good things about her being here, with money of her own, is that she can actually make these things happen and she's damn thankful for it.
Her brow furrows as he lays down, and she sits at the edge of the bed, brushing his hair back. "I'm sure room service can figure out how to get you crappy jell-o, if you don't want to miss out on the experience."
"Yeah, yeah, go on you braggart," he sighs, attempting at something playful when she mentions the private doctor, but it comes out flat.
Sleep would go a long way, really, but he knows that withdrawal is nothing more than staring down insomnia with a body full to bursting with pins and needles and fire. Give it a few days and he might feel like he has control over his nerves again, but for now he doesn't. He wiggles around in the bed before he negotiates his head into her lap, an arm draped across her knees.
"They're gonna put me in restrains when they get in here, so don't freak out, okay?" He laughs softly, clinging to her like a lost child. "And while a hotel sounds like everything I want right now I should stay here. This is gonna be a doozie," he winces as his stomach seizes up again in his gut. "And when we'll get on a jetplane and kiss this sorry fucker goodbye. Over martinis though? God, a martini..." He rolls onto his back, looking up at her, turning his head once to speak into her belly. "You hear that you little shit? Martinis. I'll have your mom's, for your benefit, of course."
"What's the point of you resting here if you're not going to rest?"
The idea of Klaus being put in restrains immediately makes her shoulders tense, but she tries to keep her features normal for his benefit. The last thing he needs is for her to throw a fit, when he's already dealing with all of this. Granted, she knows that she should trust him because obviously he has done this before, but the idea of him being tied down is enough to make that sense of overprotectiveness kick in in a way that she hasn't felt in years.
For now, though, she just stays still, letting him get comfortable on her lap as she idly runs her fingers through his hair. When he speaks into her belly, she laughs softly, a warm smile on her face. "You're so thoughtful." She brushes his hair back, silent for a moment.
Finally, "Is that what you want to do, then? Stay here? If we could do anything. Literally, anything. Don't worry about logistics. Do you want to stay here?"
"You can't rest when your blood is all of 75% opioids darling. That's just not how that works. When I close my eyes I get my own personal laser show."
Klaus knows the only way he stands a chance at getting better is to stay, let the doctors help him through the withdrawal and send him on his way. He knows the responsible thing to do is to tell Allison to leave, and have her return in a few days when he's moderately stable again. He might actually stand a chance at turning himself around that way, but he's never made it far enough out of recovery without another fix, it's hard to say what the outcome would be.
But she's petting his hair which does wonders for his anxiety, and he all but melts into her lap,
"I don't care where we go or when. Whatever." Klaus says finally, honest. "Just take me with you. Please."
Allison waits for his response, her fingers finding a rhythm in the way that they move through his hair. She's trying to give him something to focus on, something to soothe him so that he can at least get some rest in the meantime.
"I'm not leaving without you," she promises. "Let me make a call, okay? We'll be out of here soon."
If there's one thing that Hollywood has experience in, after all, is knowing how to handle addictions. Especially in a private manner, when a slip could end someone's career. In this case the help is not for herself, but she knows that her assistant can help to get them set up in no time with whatever they may need. Hell, she had already sent her an email with information while she had been on her way here, so she's sure that she'll have ideas on how to do this.
Without moving him off her lap, she reaches for the phone next to the bed and dials the number that she knows so well. She asks her assistant to set them up at a hotel downtown, to use one of her alias and to make sure to have someone available for her brother by the time they make it there, and she's promised a turnaround time of an hour. It's not ideal, but at least by the time that she hangs up she feels a little better about the situation. There's a plan in place.
"Do you want some water, or do you want to try to get some sleep while we wait?"
Allison sounds like she has everything under control in a way that Klaus envies, and has envied his whole life. Despite their father's mistreatment, all the mishaps with Luther and their siblings, Allison had a cool calm about her that he could never fully wrap his head around. She's no different now, comforting him while sorting out lodging and giving detailed instructions without batting an eye.
He doesn't entirely hear everything she says though, his mind drifting in and out, unable to really focus on anything now that he's calmed down and stopped moving. It's not exhaustion, per se, because he doesn't feel tired, but his brain simply can't keep up.
"Hm?" He looks up at her, bleary eyed. "No. I'm fine. I'm just dandy. I feel like I've been hit by a freight train." He turns his face back to her middle once again, yawning before he speaks. "In case you didn't know, drugs are bad, kid."
It's funny, for as much as she sounds like she's in control, there's something deep down that always lingers, making her question herself. She does a good job at hiding it, and that part she has an advantage over her brothers, but it's still there. It's Reginald, his voice worming itself into her brain, but she has learned to at least diminish it enough to not let her distract her.
Especially now, with what Klaus is dealing with. He needs stability in more ways than one, and Allison is determined to offer that to him no matter what. Of that, she's absolutely certain. In a few days she knows that the tabloids might get a hold of the story, that maybe then their siblings might give a shit about all this at that point (Luther, mainly, as he questions what the hell she's doing), but even that she's already mentally prepared for it. And, as far as she's concerned, they'll be safe in California, away from this goddamned place.
With a chuckle, she shakes her head slightly at him. "...you know, other than Patrick and my doctor, no one else knows yet. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but I'm really glad you didn't find out through a magazine."
“Oh, let me call the National Inquirer now and tell them all I know about Allison Hargreeves and her unborn baby. Who is the father, where did he come from, and who is that dashing man at her elbow now with the chic, junkie aesthetic?”
He sighs and and shakes his head, eyes growing heavy. Just as he seems to settle, a nurse comes in with some orderlies and clucks her tongue. “We have to get him up, dear,” the nurse says with a tight smile. It’s just as Klaus had warned her, after all, as they urge him back into the bed.
“Mr. Hargreeves, seeing as this is the second time you’ve taken your IV out...” she goes on, explaining just why they’ll have to put his hands in restraints. He doesn’t complain much, waiting for the stick of the velcro.
“Oh, you could do it harder, you know, I’ve always liked it rough.” The nurse looks more than annoyed at him, cinching the cuffs before she reworks his IV. The woman looks at Allison, wary, because sure, she knows the face. Who doesn’t know the Hargreeves kids, after all?
“I’ll be back with a sedative to help him sleep,” she says before she slips out. Klaus huffs, raising his hands slightly against the cuffs, pouting.
“She didn’t even get me close. I’m so disappointed.”
Allison herself had been starting to relax, settled in this quiet moment as Klaus looks as if he’s ready to doze off while she runs her fingers through his hair, the sound of rain outside the window. For a moment she can almost forget that they’re in the hospital, that just an hour ago she had been a nervous wreck as she waited for her brother to wake up.
The nurse walking in brings it all back. The sight of the orderlies, of the cuffs makes Allison’s stomach flip, but instead she just looks outright annoyed and ready to step in. She doesn’t only because she doesn’t want to cause a scene in front of Klaus - he had warned her, after all - but the set of her jaw and her shoulders makes it very obvious that she is most definitely not okay with any of this. Especially when the nurse looks annoyed at Klaus’ comment. And, while sure, she doesn’t doubt that he can come across as annoying in a situation like this she she’s just trying to do her job, Allison is too protective of her brother to be okay with even the wrong look in his general direction right now.
She waits for them to be alone again before she speaks, letting her temper simmer.
It doesn’t work.
To Klaus, though, she’s able to keep her voice controlled. As if this is normal between them. “I’m going to talk to your doctor, give me just a few minutes, okay? I’ll be right back.” She pauses before her hands move towards the cuffs, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t unhook the IV. Just wait here, I’ll get this straightened out.”
Klaus drifts a little once he’s settled back into the bed. He has no doubt that they’ll try and give him something to knock him out much of the night if he stays here, which could be a blessing and a curse. He can’t help but laugh a little at Allison’s fury, it shows all in her face, even if the nurses don’t notice.
“Whoa there, hellcat,” he says, words slurring with fatigue. But having the restraints removed gives him the ability to roll onto his side again, curling into himself. “Don’t kill anyone, then we’d be in a real pinch. You promised me a hotel that has a bath tub, remember? A girl needs her time to soak, don’t take that away from me.”
Even in the most dire situations he can’t keep himself from making wisecracks, it’s a method of defense, if nothing else. But the hospital bed is more comfortable than the street, the floor, wherever else he might have been. He pulls the blanket back up over himself, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.
The comment comes out unchecked, but well, it’s not a lie. Patrick would think she’s just messing around by saying something like this, but Klaus knows how lethal she can be so if he shows any concern over it she’s ready to assure him she’s kidding. Kind of.
When he pulls up the covers, she tucks him in as if to help him get more comfortable before kissing his temple.
“I’ll just be a few minutes. Try to take a nap if you can, I’ll be right back.”
She brushes his hair back one more time before she adjusts her cardigan and walks towards the door. Although she’s not wearing heels, there’s a sharpness to her footsteps that’s impossible to miss as she heads out to look for the doctor in charge. By the time she’s done with the conversation, she has arranged for transport and to get Klaus discharged to a private physician that will be with them at the hotel. Her promise to bring him back if he gets worse is honest, because she’s not foolish enough to think she’ll be able to handle everything, but she has hope that they can at least get him stable and comfortable enough off site. Not here, and definitely not in restrains.
By the time she’s ready to get back in the room, a courier drops off a bag of clothes for Klaus thanks to her assistant, and that’s her sign. They’re good to go. Holding the bag close, she walks back towards her brother’s bedside, looking considerably calmer. She just hopes Klaus didn’t do anything to land himself a longer stay here, one that would be harder for her to undo.
Luckily for Allison, Klaus behaved since she left the room, and instead of making trouble he's curled around himself on the bed, pulling the thin hospital blankets around his shoulders. He looks impossibly like the young, frightened boy from many moons ago, trying to ward away the ghosts. His hands shake, more from the drug use than the cold, and he's dozed off in her absence.
But with discharge comes his sister and behind her, the RN from before who looks altogether suspicious of the situation at hand. She begins turning off monitors and IV pumps but that's when she notices the restraints have been opened. There's a look that she passes briefly between Klaus and Allison before she sighs. "Mr. Hargreeves, we'll need to get that IV out now."
Klaus blinks blearily at his sister then turns when he feels the pressure of the nurse's hand on his arm. "Oh, shit, what'd I do this time," he groans but offers his arm out to her with little fuss, just as he promised his sister. He doesn't expect for her to remove the IV, however, and band-aid his arm with a little huff before she leaves again, all of his paperwork set.
"Oh Matlida doesn't you one bit," Klaus laughs, shaking his head while he blinks his eyes slowly at her. She's calmer than before, but it doesn't give him any comfort. "What is it?" He sobers, face growing more serious. "They're letting me go, right? With you." There's an edge of panic that limns his voice. "Just let me... just let me stay at your hotel for a day and I'll come back."
God, a real bed, a real shower, a quiet room. It could be the shadiest motel in the whole city and it would be more glamorous than the hospital, than the streets, than stranger's beds. "I'd bargain with you but voila, what you see is what you can get. Want one of my sexy hospital socks?" He raises one leg and wiggles his toes for good measure.
If Allison looks a little smug upon the return to the room, carrying a pair of spare scrubs under her arm and a bag, it's because she is. Between her power, and the money that she now has available to her, there isn't a single string that isn't pulled in order to get Klaus out of here as soon as possible. It helps that her assistant had pulled through and will have a private doctor that will be waiting for them at the suite when they arrive to the hotel, and he'll be able to help Klaus through the worst of his withdrawals before they make it back home to California.
Or, well, she hopes that Klaus will agree to go with her to California after that is done. A small part of her fears that he won't even stay in the hotel for longer than a day, that she'll wake up and find him gone, but she's trying to ignore that as much as possible. She has to hope that he wants to get better. She has to hope that this is going to work, otherwise she doesn't know if she can handle the alternative.
As Klaus speaks, Allison is ready to interrupt him but he's rambling before she can get a word in. She sets the bag and scrubs down at the foot of his bed, before she walks over to him and frames his face gently in her hands like how she would do whenever he would have a particularly bad nightmare. As if to help him focus on her, and she kisses his forehead.
"Hey, it's okay," she assures him, her voice quiet as if to counter whatever voices are raging through his head. "We're leaving. There's a car waiting for us downstairs, and a hotel room to get to. You still want that tub?" She smiles at him before she stands, and offers a hand to help him out of bed. "I got you a pair of scrubs, if you don't want your clothes. There'll be clothes for you at the hotel, my assistant just couldn't get them here fast enough. The priority was the hotel and someone to help out at the hotel, and that's done, so...we're good to go if you're ready."
Klaus stills under her touch, surprised by ho gentle and understanding she is, coupled with the kiss to his forehead. It doesn't quiet the voices, the ghosts, but she grounds him and that's worth every second.
"God, I want that tub," he sighs deeply, the thought of soaking in a hot bath enough to spur him to move. He reaches for her hand and slides out of the bed with a groan, stretching for a moment, as though he isn't standing in the middle of a hospital, shortly after a near-fatal overdose. He gravitates toward the scrubs, having the decency to tug the pants on under his gown before he starts to pull that over his head. He's thin but not scrawny, some muscle left on his arms and chest by the grace of god, but there are valleys and dips around his ribs and narrow hips that nod to poor nutrition, or lack thereof altogether.
He wrangles the shirt over his head and sighs, running fingers back through his hair.
"The chariot awaits," he muses tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes telling. Hopefully she doesn't expect him to wait for a wheel chair or other nonsense, because he's stumbling toward the sliding hospital door immediately. He's not unsteady on his feet so much as his whole body moves of its own volition, as though taking up as much space as possibly as he sways easily.
"And you have an assistant now? Did we talk about this before? Are they hot? You deserved to have a hot assistant. Not hotter than you, don't want competition, but they better be pretty." He reaches for her hand, squeezing it when he manages to make contact, lacing their fingers together if she'll allow it. "God, I could fall asleep standing up."
Edited (too used to my s2 icons) 2020-10-02 05:48 (UTC)
Her heart twists painfully in her chest at the sight of how he looks, the way his ribs and hips are far too pronounced, but she makes it a point to not stare. Instead, she busies herself with grabbing her purse and the bag of his personal belongings, before adjusting her cardigan again so that she can hide the swell of her belly in case there are any nosy people around. By now she wouldn't doubt it, considering the way she had pulled all the stops to make Klaus's release a possibility, but it's fine. Based on how she fixes her clothes to fit that image that she has to keep up, it's obvious that she's well versed in doing this kind of thing.
As he begins walking, Allison tries to tell him to wait, but before she can he's already moving, and she just sighs under her breath as she rushes after him. "We could have waited for the wheelchair, you know."
Although, judging by the RN's expression when she had left the room, she idly wonders if she would have just left them waiting considering her disapproval of what they're doing.
Whatever she's thinking, it all goes away when she feels the way he reaches for her hand and, without hesitation, she laces her fingers with his. There had been a moment when this felt like something she wanted but wouldn't get, when she feared Klaus would tell her to leave or that he would find a way out on his own without letting her try to help, and she's just so glad that she had been wrong.
"She's very pretty," she answers with a small laugh, smiling up at him. Without her usual heels thanks to the pregnancy, she's back to the usual height differences they had the last time they had seen each other as teenagers, and she can't help but give his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can sleep in the car, I promise. Are you sure you don't want a wheelchair?"
Klaus feels steady enough on his feet, but he doesn't care what he looks like as he strolls through the sterile hospital halls. He has Allison's hand in his and for the first time in years he feels a little bit more like himself, even if the withdrawal symptoms have started to kick in.
He's seen nothing but the closed doors of the Academy since he left, nary a peek from the windows into the lives of Grace, Pogo and Luther still within. He doesn't consider his dad inside, knowing he waited on the stoop for days. He can't think about that. But Allison here at his side, her hand real and warm in his own, feels like a slice of home. It's miniscule, fleeting. He knows that all it takes is one slip up and the door will slam shut again. She left, after all. She has a family— a baby she's growing, he reminds himself— back in California. Why would she want anything to do with a place like this again?
He smiles sadly, though it's not a her commentary. "Mm, sleeping in the car sounds de-light-ful." He seems to walk a little straighter, with more purpose as he heads toward the door. "So no wheelchair. I like walking on my own two feet every now and then, thank you very much." He squeezes her hand a little tighter as they approach the doors, and he pauses just a few steps outside, taking in the light and the crisp, fresh air. A car rolls up, parking and putting its emergency flashers on.
"I want to promise that I won't disappoint you, Al, but you know I can't."
He wants to. He wants to say he'll overcome the monsters in his head, that he'll find a way to stop the itching need for numbness in his veins, that he'll stop being such a deadbeat, the one person in the family everyone overlooks. But he can't. He can't even promise himself that, let alone someone else.
Allison wants Klaus to trust her, to know that she trusts him and she’s not trying to force whatever she wants on him, so she doesn’t push the subject of the wheelchair any longer. Right now she just wants to get him to the hotel to get some proper rest, and they can figure things out from there.
As the driver pulls up and walks over to get her bags, Allison turns to look at Klaus when he starts talking. A small, reassuring smile crosses her lips and she leans in to kiss his cheek. “I know you do. And you wanting to try is plenty. We’ll figure it out, I promise. Right now let’s just get you comfortable, alright?”
The door to the car is opened once the bags are deposited in the trunk, and she guides him to the car, only letting go so she can get in the backseat. The seats are warmed to a comfortable temperature, the car basically set up so that Klaus can be comfortable right from the start. Allison has a lot of regrets in life, and one of them is leaving Klaus behind. Part of this can be argued is her trying to compensate for failing him, but not coming back sooner, but now that she’s here she wants him to know he’s not losing her again. She cares too much about him. And, even if he does have a slip... She’d figure out a way to help him, although just the idea of it makes her stomach flip.
Once Klaus is in the car and the driver starts the trek to the hotel, Allison glances over at her brother. “Want to lay down?” She wishes she had thought of grabbing a pillow, something he could rest on so he could be more comfortable, but her lap will have to do it he doesn’t mind it.
Klaus climbs into the back seat and sighs almost immediately at the rush of warmth from the air, the seats. There's comfort with this kind of warmth, considering his whole body feels as though it's turning to ice under his own eye. "Comfort is my middle name," he teases.
He does take a peek at the driver though, and with a cheek waggle of his eyebrows and a roll of his fingers, he laughs, "Oh, she is pretty. Best watch out before someone snatches her right up."
The car starts in motion and he grips the door for a second, having disregarded a seatbelt altogether. Though once he's sure his body won't revolt at the motion, he relaxes, allowing himself to lounge across the seat, plopping his head in her lap. She's warm, the car's warm, and the sound of traffic outside lulls him into a state of calm he hasn't experienced in a long, long time.
"This, little one, is why you don't do drugs," he says, turning his head to talk to the swell of her belly. "Take it from your Uncle Klaus. They're fun. God, so much fun, but you don't get fancy cars and hot assistants with fun." Light eyes shift up to look at Allison, a crooked, tired smile working its way across his lips. He's so happy to see her, away from the hospital, away from the hoard of screaming ghosts not ready to pass on. He reaches for one of her hands, drawing to to rest on his chest, both of his palms pressed around hers.
Allison chuckles, shaking her head at him when he makes a comment about her assistant, but doesn’t say anything beyond that. Especially as he relaxes, and settles his head on her lap.
As he begins speaking to her belly, a soft smile crosses her lips as she gently cards her fingers through his hair. Ever since that pregnancy had turned positive, Allison has been longing for the family she never had, the closeness that she and her siblings could never fully accomplish or at least maintain. With Klaus, she knows it’s mainly her fault for leaving, for not coming back, but seeing him here - having him here, and hearing him refer to himself as Uncle Klaus, it makes her heart soar.
She’s about to let him sleep, when Klaus asks how she found her and for a moment she and her assistant share a look through the rearview mirror. The other woman has been vital for her to be able to keep track of him, after all.
“Katie has been helping me keep tabs on any alerts that I probably wouldn’t get.” If she sounds hesitant, it’s because she doesn’t know how he’ll take that. Maybe she should lie, say something less creepy, but she also doesn’t want to lie to him. And, well, there’s no other way she could have really found him.
She closes her hand to hold his as the memory of the phone call comes to her, the fear she felt as she heard overdose, it’s bad, and you should get there right away. It makes her nauseous just remembering, but holding his hand helps to remind her that he’s okay. He’s alive, and he’s okay. That’s what matters.
“You’re hard to find, though,” she admits with a faint smile. If Klaus has ever doubted that Allison didn’t intend to keep her promise to come back for him, the proof is here. All these years, she hasn’t forgotten about him. She just hasn’t been able to really find him long enough to even make plans to come back. “I’ve been trying to pinpoint you for a few years now. This is just the first time that I actually made it here before you could disappear again.”
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on a second," he holds his free hand up, index finger extended. The idea that Allison has been tracking him all this time is both upsetting and rather comical, because it's so in line with the measures his family will take to look out for one another without actually looking out for them.
He laughs brightly, dropping his pointing hand to scrub his palm over his face. "Why would you do that to your poor assistant, shit. I hardly know where I am half the time, let alone trying to get someone else to take care of it. Oh, man, you better pay her the big bucks."
The past few years are a blur of motion in his memory, nothing but new beds and strangers every night, with new drugs or more alcohol, anything to take away the bite of reality. "I like to stay under the radar, mysterious. On the down low, as the kids say. No sense in keeping things simple, that gets boring. But you should have sent a card. I'd have made the whole hospital visit more exciting if you'd told me you were coming."
He's wanted to see her for years, but between the unstable housing and all of the drugs, he never quite made it that far. Why invite her (beg her) to come see him when he had nowhere to take her, no one to introduce her to, and nothing to show for their time apart. She was a movie star, after all and him? Well, untraceable. That's how important he is.
"And all because they strapped me to the bed when I took a tumble. Jesus. But see, I'm fine. They over exaggerated." He's not fine, if the tremble in his hands and the dark circles under his eyes paired with the the too-thin frame mean anything. "But here we are, family reunion complete. Well, at least for you and me. Did you tell Luther you were here? Haven't seen dearest Number One in years now."
The fact that he doesn’t outright sit up and asks to be let out of the car is a good thing, she thinks. She can’t help but still fear that it could be a possibility, but is very thankful for the fact that he’s at least staying put.
“Oh we know you like the mysterious lifestyle,” she responds with a small sort of smile. She can’t hold anything of the last few years against him - Allison knows damn well she’s the one that messed up for packing up and leaving. They’d talk whenever Klaus would randomly call her, but it always felt so sporadic and long in between - especially since all she had wanted was to talk to him as long as possible.
Klaus’s mention of the tumble, but that he’s fine makes her lips quirk faintly but there’s no humor behind it. Considering she’s still holding onto one of his hands, she can feel the tremble there. Not to mention that he looks rough, tired. The sight of him in that hospital bed as she waited for him to wake up is one that she knows she won’t forget in a long, long while. All those lines and cables tied to him, the restraints later on, the way his bones are so visible along his body. It makes her grip his hand a little tighter unconsciously.
At the mention of Luther, there’s a brief moment where a muscle in her jaw seems to twitch as she clenches it shut, but she shakes her head slightly. “No. Haven’t talked to him in years.”
More specifically, since the night that Klaus called her and filled her in about him being kicked out of the Academy. Allison had been in the middle of a huge production back home, and she hadn’t been able to leave, but as soon as the call ended, she had called Luther and they had gotten into a huge argument over it. It had been the first and last time she had bothered calling ‘home,’ and that had been sufficient to never want to call again.
‘You left first, Allison,’ Luther had all but thrown in her face, his own anger about her leaving seeping through, but it doesn’t change the fact that the words have stuck with her. ‘You left him, long before dad decided he couldn’t stay here, so don’t project your guilt onto me for it.’
“I’m really sorry for not coming back sooner, Klaus,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere.
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She tries to speak over him, but Klaus keeps talking and there’s not a lot she can say. What could she say? She knows it isn’t fair to ask this of him. But, at the same time, leaving him to figure it out feels wrong, too. There’s a brief moment when she finds herself tempted to Rumor him, to convince him to come with her and damn the consequences, but she bites the inside of her lips as if to force herself to not go there no matter how much she wants to.
When he stands, Allison shoots up too, trying so hard to not shove him back on the bed but staying close enough in case he needs support. Last thing she wants is for him to fall and hurt himself.
When his palms press against his ears, Allison starts to approach him again. If he pulls back or away she won’t force him to come into contact with her, but if he lets her she’s ready to at least steady him.
“Can you please sit down, at least?”
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He leans forward into her, pressing his face against her shoulder, his own shoulders shaking as he comes down from the hysteria, the tears. He tries to focus on the monitors, the way they alarm, dissonant. "I can hear them everywhere," he says quietly. It's a hospital. So many people have died here. "The longer I sit here, the more I see. They come out of the fucking walls in swarms. I need to be numb again."
Thankfully this is Allison he's making the desperate plea to and not a frenzied hospital orderly. After all, they'd diagnose him with hallucinations and psychotic breaks and maybe even a dash of schizophrenia if he's not too careful. He sucks in a shaky breath, using every beat of his heart to begin laying the bricks of his defenses.
"Welcome home, Allison! Did you know your brother is a fucking mess? He sure is pretty but that's about all he's got going for him. Don't get too close, he might have rabies."
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"We're all a fucking mess," she murmurs against his hair. "You know that hasn't changed just because we're not all at the house together."
She presses a kiss against the top of his head again, quiet for a moment before she speaks. "Give me ten minutes and I'll get you out of here, we'll go to a hotel and you can rest there." A beat. "You can figure out what you want to do after you get more sleep. Are you feeling well enough to do that?"
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Klaus laughs weakly and leans back, holding his hands up in false surrender. "But I'm a danger to myself. They will strongly advise you to think twice about such a morally poor decision."
Rolling his eyes he carefully slides back onto the bed, the weight of his body heavy as he flops onto his side. "Besides what would I do without my fill of artificially flavored gelatin."
All his bravado doesn't mask the way his hands shake uncontrollably, the way he sweats, the way he scratches at his forearms like his skin is like to crawl off his body. "But honestly a hotel sounds amazing," he admits, a tiny crack in the facade. "A real fucking bath tub. God." He could cry at the thought of it.
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She has thought this through already, what she would do after leaving the hospital. This is her first rodeo with him like this, but she has been busy already trying to think of scenarios and what she would be doing to help him through it. One of the good things about her being here, with money of her own, is that she can actually make these things happen and she's damn thankful for it.
Her brow furrows as he lays down, and she sits at the edge of the bed, brushing his hair back. "I'm sure room service can figure out how to get you crappy jell-o, if you don't want to miss out on the experience."
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Sleep would go a long way, really, but he knows that withdrawal is nothing more than staring down insomnia with a body full to bursting with pins and needles and fire. Give it a few days and he might feel like he has control over his nerves again, but for now he doesn't. He wiggles around in the bed before he negotiates his head into her lap, an arm draped across her knees.
"They're gonna put me in restrains when they get in here, so don't freak out, okay?" He laughs softly, clinging to her like a lost child. "And while a hotel sounds like everything I want right now I should stay here. This is gonna be a doozie," he winces as his stomach seizes up again in his gut. "And when we'll get on a jetplane and kiss this sorry fucker goodbye. Over martinis though? God, a martini..." He rolls onto his back, looking up at her, turning his head once to speak into her belly. "You hear that you little shit? Martinis. I'll have your mom's, for your benefit, of course."
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The idea of Klaus being put in restrains immediately makes her shoulders tense, but she tries to keep her features normal for his benefit. The last thing he needs is for her to throw a fit, when he's already dealing with all of this. Granted, she knows that she should trust him because obviously he has done this before, but the idea of him being tied down is enough to make that sense of overprotectiveness kick in in a way that she hasn't felt in years.
For now, though, she just stays still, letting him get comfortable on her lap as she idly runs her fingers through his hair. When he speaks into her belly, she laughs softly, a warm smile on her face. "You're so thoughtful." She brushes his hair back, silent for a moment.
Finally, "Is that what you want to do, then? Stay here? If we could do anything. Literally, anything. Don't worry about logistics. Do you want to stay here?"
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Klaus knows the only way he stands a chance at getting better is to stay, let the doctors help him through the withdrawal and send him on his way. He knows the responsible thing to do is to tell Allison to leave, and have her return in a few days when he's moderately stable again. He might actually stand a chance at turning himself around that way, but he's never made it far enough out of recovery without another fix, it's hard to say what the outcome would be.
But she's petting his hair which does wonders for his anxiety, and he all but melts into her lap,
"I don't care where we go or when. Whatever." Klaus says finally, honest. "Just take me with you. Please."
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"I'm not leaving without you," she promises. "Let me make a call, okay? We'll be out of here soon."
If there's one thing that Hollywood has experience in, after all, is knowing how to handle addictions. Especially in a private manner, when a slip could end someone's career. In this case the help is not for herself, but she knows that her assistant can help to get them set up in no time with whatever they may need. Hell, she had already sent her an email with information while she had been on her way here, so she's sure that she'll have ideas on how to do this.
Without moving him off her lap, she reaches for the phone next to the bed and dials the number that she knows so well. She asks her assistant to set them up at a hotel downtown, to use one of her alias and to make sure to have someone available for her brother by the time they make it there, and she's promised a turnaround time of an hour. It's not ideal, but at least by the time that she hangs up she feels a little better about the situation. There's a plan in place.
"Do you want some water, or do you want to try to get some sleep while we wait?"
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He doesn't entirely hear everything she says though, his mind drifting in and out, unable to really focus on anything now that he's calmed down and stopped moving. It's not exhaustion, per se, because he doesn't feel tired, but his brain simply can't keep up.
"Hm?" He looks up at her, bleary eyed. "No. I'm fine. I'm just dandy. I feel like I've been hit by a freight train." He turns his face back to her middle once again, yawning before he speaks. "In case you didn't know, drugs are bad, kid."
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Especially now, with what Klaus is dealing with. He needs stability in more ways than one, and Allison is determined to offer that to him no matter what. Of that, she's absolutely certain. In a few days she knows that the tabloids might get a hold of the story, that maybe then their siblings might give a shit about all this at that point (Luther, mainly, as he questions what the hell she's doing), but even that she's already mentally prepared for it. And, as far as she's concerned, they'll be safe in California, away from this goddamned place.
With a chuckle, she shakes her head slightly at him. "...you know, other than Patrick and my doctor, no one else knows yet. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but I'm really glad you didn't find out through a magazine."
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He sighs and and shakes his head, eyes growing heavy. Just as he seems to settle, a nurse comes in with some orderlies and clucks her tongue. “We have to get him up, dear,” the nurse says with a tight smile. It’s just as Klaus had warned her, after all, as they urge him back into the bed.
“Mr. Hargreeves, seeing as this is the second time you’ve taken your IV out...” she goes on, explaining just why they’ll have to put his hands in restraints. He doesn’t complain much, waiting for the stick of the velcro.
“Oh, you could do it harder, you know, I’ve always liked it rough.” The nurse looks more than annoyed at him, cinching the cuffs before she reworks his IV. The woman looks at Allison, wary, because sure, she knows the face. Who doesn’t know the Hargreeves kids, after all?
“I’ll be back with a sedative to help him sleep,” she says before she slips out. Klaus huffs, raising his hands slightly against the cuffs, pouting.
“She didn’t even get me close. I’m so disappointed.”
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The nurse walking in brings it all back. The sight of the orderlies, of the cuffs makes Allison’s stomach flip, but instead she just looks outright annoyed and ready to step in. She doesn’t only because she doesn’t want to cause a scene in front of Klaus - he had warned her, after all - but the set of her jaw and her shoulders makes it very obvious that she is most definitely not okay with any of this. Especially when the nurse looks annoyed at Klaus’ comment. And, while sure, she doesn’t doubt that he can come across as annoying in a situation like this she she’s just trying to do her job, Allison is too protective of her brother to be okay with even the wrong look in his general direction right now.
She waits for them to be alone again before she speaks, letting her temper simmer.
It doesn’t work.
To Klaus, though, she’s able to keep her voice controlled. As if this is normal between them. “I’m going to talk to your doctor, give me just a few minutes, okay? I’ll be right back.” She pauses before her hands move towards the cuffs, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t unhook the IV. Just wait here, I’ll get this straightened out.”
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“Whoa there, hellcat,” he says, words slurring with fatigue. But having the restraints removed gives him the ability to roll onto his side again, curling into himself. “Don’t kill anyone, then we’d be in a real pinch. You promised me a hotel that has a bath tub, remember? A girl needs her time to soak, don’t take that away from me.”
Even in the most dire situations he can’t keep himself from making wisecracks, it’s a method of defense, if nothing else. But the hospital bed is more comfortable than the street, the floor, wherever else he might have been. He pulls the blanket back up over himself, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.
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The comment comes out unchecked, but well, it’s not a lie. Patrick would think she’s just messing around by saying something like this, but Klaus knows how lethal she can be so if he shows any concern over it she’s ready to assure him she’s kidding. Kind of.
When he pulls up the covers, she tucks him in as if to help him get more comfortable before kissing his temple.
“I’ll just be a few minutes. Try to take a nap if you can, I’ll be right back.”
She brushes his hair back one more time before she adjusts her cardigan and walks towards the door. Although she’s not wearing heels, there’s a sharpness to her footsteps that’s impossible to miss as she heads out to look for the doctor in charge. By the time she’s done with the conversation, she has arranged for transport and to get Klaus discharged to a private physician that will be with them at the hotel. Her promise to bring him back if he gets worse is honest, because she’s not foolish enough to think she’ll be able to handle everything, but she has hope that they can at least get him stable and comfortable enough off site. Not here, and definitely not in restrains.
By the time she’s ready to get back in the room, a courier drops off a bag of clothes for Klaus thanks to her assistant, and that’s her sign. They’re good to go. Holding the bag close, she walks back towards her brother’s bedside, looking considerably calmer. She just hopes Klaus didn’t do anything to land himself a longer stay here, one that would be harder for her to undo.
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But with discharge comes his sister and behind her, the RN from before who looks altogether suspicious of the situation at hand. She begins turning off monitors and IV pumps but that's when she notices the restraints have been opened. There's a look that she passes briefly between Klaus and Allison before she sighs. "Mr. Hargreeves, we'll need to get that IV out now."
Klaus blinks blearily at his sister then turns when he feels the pressure of the nurse's hand on his arm. "Oh, shit, what'd I do this time," he groans but offers his arm out to her with little fuss, just as he promised his sister. He doesn't expect for her to remove the IV, however, and band-aid his arm with a little huff before she leaves again, all of his paperwork set.
"Oh Matlida doesn't you one bit," Klaus laughs, shaking his head while he blinks his eyes slowly at her. She's calmer than before, but it doesn't give him any comfort. "What is it?" He sobers, face growing more serious. "They're letting me go, right? With you." There's an edge of panic that limns his voice. "Just let me... just let me stay at your hotel for a day and I'll come back."
God, a real bed, a real shower, a quiet room. It could be the shadiest motel in the whole city and it would be more glamorous than the hospital, than the streets, than stranger's beds. "I'd bargain with you but voila, what you see is what you can get. Want one of my sexy hospital socks?" He raises one leg and wiggles his toes for good measure.
"I can't stay here. It's so fucking loud."
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Or, well, she hopes that Klaus will agree to go with her to California after that is done. A small part of her fears that he won't even stay in the hotel for longer than a day, that she'll wake up and find him gone, but she's trying to ignore that as much as possible. She has to hope that he wants to get better. She has to hope that this is going to work, otherwise she doesn't know if she can handle the alternative.
As Klaus speaks, Allison is ready to interrupt him but he's rambling before she can get a word in. She sets the bag and scrubs down at the foot of his bed, before she walks over to him and frames his face gently in her hands like how she would do whenever he would have a particularly bad nightmare. As if to help him focus on her, and she kisses his forehead.
"Hey, it's okay," she assures him, her voice quiet as if to counter whatever voices are raging through his head. "We're leaving. There's a car waiting for us downstairs, and a hotel room to get to. You still want that tub?" She smiles at him before she stands, and offers a hand to help him out of bed. "I got you a pair of scrubs, if you don't want your clothes. There'll be clothes for you at the hotel, my assistant just couldn't get them here fast enough. The priority was the hotel and someone to help out at the hotel, and that's done, so...we're good to go if you're ready."
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"God, I want that tub," he sighs deeply, the thought of soaking in a hot bath enough to spur him to move. He reaches for her hand and slides out of the bed with a groan, stretching for a moment, as though he isn't standing in the middle of a hospital, shortly after a near-fatal overdose. He gravitates toward the scrubs, having the decency to tug the pants on under his gown before he starts to pull that over his head. He's thin but not scrawny, some muscle left on his arms and chest by the grace of god, but there are valleys and dips around his ribs and narrow hips that nod to poor nutrition, or lack thereof altogether.
He wrangles the shirt over his head and sighs, running fingers back through his hair.
"The chariot awaits," he muses tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes telling. Hopefully she doesn't expect him to wait for a wheel chair or other nonsense, because he's stumbling toward the sliding hospital door immediately. He's not unsteady on his feet so much as his whole body moves of its own volition, as though taking up as much space as possibly as he sways easily.
"And you have an assistant now? Did we talk about this before? Are they hot? You deserved to have a hot assistant. Not hotter than you, don't want competition, but they better be pretty." He reaches for her hand, squeezing it when he manages to make contact, lacing their fingers together if she'll allow it. "God, I could fall asleep standing up."
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As he begins walking, Allison tries to tell him to wait, but before she can he's already moving, and she just sighs under her breath as she rushes after him. "We could have waited for the wheelchair, you know."
Although, judging by the RN's expression when she had left the room, she idly wonders if she would have just left them waiting considering her disapproval of what they're doing.
Whatever she's thinking, it all goes away when she feels the way he reaches for her hand and, without hesitation, she laces her fingers with his. There had been a moment when this felt like something she wanted but wouldn't get, when she feared Klaus would tell her to leave or that he would find a way out on his own without letting her try to help, and she's just so glad that she had been wrong.
"She's very pretty," she answers with a small laugh, smiling up at him. Without her usual heels thanks to the pregnancy, she's back to the usual height differences they had the last time they had seen each other as teenagers, and she can't help but give his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can sleep in the car, I promise. Are you sure you don't want a wheelchair?"
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Klaus feels steady enough on his feet, but he doesn't care what he looks like as he strolls through the sterile hospital halls. He has Allison's hand in his and for the first time in years he feels a little bit more like himself, even if the withdrawal symptoms have started to kick in.
He's seen nothing but the closed doors of the Academy since he left, nary a peek from the windows into the lives of Grace, Pogo and Luther still within. He doesn't consider his dad inside, knowing he waited on the stoop for days. He can't think about that. But Allison here at his side, her hand real and warm in his own, feels like a slice of home. It's miniscule, fleeting. He knows that all it takes is one slip up and the door will slam shut again. She left, after all. She has a family— a baby she's growing, he reminds himself— back in California. Why would she want anything to do with a place like this again?
He smiles sadly, though it's not a her commentary. "Mm, sleeping in the car sounds de-light-ful." He seems to walk a little straighter, with more purpose as he heads toward the door. "So no wheelchair. I like walking on my own two feet every now and then, thank you very much." He squeezes her hand a little tighter as they approach the doors, and he pauses just a few steps outside, taking in the light and the crisp, fresh air. A car rolls up, parking and putting its emergency flashers on.
"I want to promise that I won't disappoint you, Al, but you know I can't."
He wants to. He wants to say he'll overcome the monsters in his head, that he'll find a way to stop the itching need for numbness in his veins, that he'll stop being such a deadbeat, the one person in the family everyone overlooks. But he can't. He can't even promise himself that, let alone someone else.
"But I'll try."
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As the driver pulls up and walks over to get her bags, Allison turns to look at Klaus when he starts talking. A small, reassuring smile crosses her lips and she leans in to kiss his cheek. “I know you do. And you wanting to try is plenty. We’ll figure it out, I promise. Right now let’s just get you comfortable, alright?”
The door to the car is opened once the bags are deposited in the trunk, and she guides him to the car, only letting go so she can get in the backseat. The seats are warmed to a comfortable temperature, the car basically set up so that Klaus can be comfortable right from the start. Allison has a lot of regrets in life, and one of them is leaving Klaus behind. Part of this can be argued is her trying to compensate for failing him, but not coming back sooner, but now that she’s here she wants him to know he’s not losing her again. She cares too much about him. And, even if he does have a slip... She’d figure out a way to help him, although just the idea of it makes her stomach flip.
Once Klaus is in the car and the driver starts the trek to the hotel, Allison glances over at her brother. “Want to lay down?” She wishes she had thought of grabbing a pillow, something he could rest on so he could be more comfortable, but her lap will have to do it he doesn’t mind it.
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He does take a peek at the driver though, and with a cheek waggle of his eyebrows and a roll of his fingers, he laughs, "Oh, she is pretty. Best watch out before someone snatches her right up."
The car starts in motion and he grips the door for a second, having disregarded a seatbelt altogether. Though once he's sure his body won't revolt at the motion, he relaxes, allowing himself to lounge across the seat, plopping his head in her lap. She's warm, the car's warm, and the sound of traffic outside lulls him into a state of calm he hasn't experienced in a long, long time.
"This, little one, is why you don't do drugs," he says, turning his head to talk to the swell of her belly. "Take it from your Uncle Klaus. They're fun. God, so much fun, but you don't get fancy cars and hot assistants with fun." Light eyes shift up to look at Allison, a crooked, tired smile working its way across his lips. He's so happy to see her, away from the hospital, away from the hoard of screaming ghosts not ready to pass on. He reaches for one of her hands, drawing to to rest on his chest, both of his palms pressed around hers.
"How'd you find me?"
No one finds him. No one tries.
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As he begins speaking to her belly, a soft smile crosses her lips as she gently cards her fingers through his hair. Ever since that pregnancy had turned positive, Allison has been longing for the family she never had, the closeness that she and her siblings could never fully accomplish or at least maintain. With Klaus, she knows it’s mainly her fault for leaving, for not coming back, but seeing him here - having him here, and hearing him refer to himself as Uncle Klaus, it makes her heart soar.
She’s about to let him sleep, when Klaus asks how she found her and for a moment she and her assistant share a look through the rearview mirror. The other woman has been vital for her to be able to keep track of him, after all.
“Katie has been helping me keep tabs on any alerts that I probably wouldn’t get.” If she sounds hesitant, it’s because she doesn’t know how he’ll take that. Maybe she should lie, say something less creepy, but she also doesn’t want to lie to him. And, well, there’s no other way she could have really found him.
She closes her hand to hold his as the memory of the phone call comes to her, the fear she felt as she heard overdose, it’s bad, and you should get there right away. It makes her nauseous just remembering, but holding his hand helps to remind her that he’s okay. He’s alive, and he’s okay. That’s what matters.
“You’re hard to find, though,” she admits with a faint smile. If Klaus has ever doubted that Allison didn’t intend to keep her promise to come back for him, the proof is here. All these years, she hasn’t forgotten about him. She just hasn’t been able to really find him long enough to even make plans to come back. “I’ve been trying to pinpoint you for a few years now. This is just the first time that I actually made it here before you could disappear again.”
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He laughs brightly, dropping his pointing hand to scrub his palm over his face. "Why would you do that to your poor assistant, shit. I hardly know where I am half the time, let alone trying to get someone else to take care of it. Oh, man, you better pay her the big bucks."
The past few years are a blur of motion in his memory, nothing but new beds and strangers every night, with new drugs or more alcohol, anything to take away the bite of reality. "I like to stay under the radar, mysterious. On the down low, as the kids say. No sense in keeping things simple, that gets boring. But you should have sent a card. I'd have made the whole hospital visit more exciting if you'd told me you were coming."
He's wanted to see her for years, but between the unstable housing and all of the drugs, he never quite made it that far. Why invite her (beg her) to come see him when he had nowhere to take her, no one to introduce her to, and nothing to show for their time apart. She was a movie star, after all and him? Well, untraceable. That's how important he is.
"And all because they strapped me to the bed when I took a tumble. Jesus. But see, I'm fine. They over exaggerated." He's not fine, if the tremble in his hands and the dark circles under his eyes paired with the the too-thin frame mean anything. "But here we are, family reunion complete. Well, at least for you and me. Did you tell Luther you were here? Haven't seen dearest Number One in years now."
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“Oh we know you like the mysterious lifestyle,” she responds with a small sort of smile. She can’t hold anything of the last few years against him - Allison knows damn well she’s the one that messed up for packing up and leaving. They’d talk whenever Klaus would randomly call her, but it always felt so sporadic and long in between - especially since all she had wanted was to talk to him as long as possible.
Klaus’s mention of the tumble, but that he’s fine makes her lips quirk faintly but there’s no humor behind it. Considering she’s still holding onto one of his hands, she can feel the tremble there. Not to mention that he looks rough, tired. The sight of him in that hospital bed as she waited for him to wake up is one that she knows she won’t forget in a long, long while. All those lines and cables tied to him, the restraints later on, the way his bones are so visible along his body. It makes her grip his hand a little tighter unconsciously.
At the mention of Luther, there’s a brief moment where a muscle in her jaw seems to twitch as she clenches it shut, but she shakes her head slightly. “No. Haven’t talked to him in years.”
More specifically, since the night that Klaus called her and filled her in about him being kicked out of the Academy. Allison had been in the middle of a huge production back home, and she hadn’t been able to leave, but as soon as the call ended, she had called Luther and they had gotten into a huge argument over it. It had been the first and last time she had bothered calling ‘home,’ and that had been sufficient to never want to call again.
‘You left first, Allison,’ Luther had all but thrown in her face, his own anger about her leaving seeping through, but it doesn’t change the fact that the words have stuck with her. ‘You left him, long before dad decided he couldn’t stay here, so don’t project your guilt onto me for it.’
“I’m really sorry for not coming back sooner, Klaus,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere.
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