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.
Klaus doesn't know where any of his siblings are. He'd see Diego occasionally, but even then it was few and far between, often from a distance. Klaus knew better than to try and inject himself into one of his sibling's lives. The only one he managed to keep up with on occasion was Allison, when he had enough time or change to use a payphone. Sometimes the call would go to the answering machine and he'd leave as long a message as the thing would allow, or until his time ran out on the phone. He'd pretend he'd spoken to her, but hadn't let her get a word in edgewise.
But the months crept on and phone calls became less frequent and he'd occasionally stop at a newspaper stand to see if her name had popped up in any of the headlines.
"Stop apologizing, jeez," Klaus whines and shifts so he can roll onto his back, looking up at her with tired eyes. "How dare you go life a fabulous life with a pretty assistant. I mean, I'm sure Patrick's grand and all but you know. Life gets busy, and what's there to do in a place like this? I mean, aren't you having a ball already? Welcome home, first class trip to the rehab center, yipee."
He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes slowly. He squeezes her hand, resituating it on his chest if only so he can link his fingers with hers. When he speaks, it's soft, quiet enough that maybe even the assistant in the front seat will have trouble understanding him. "I'm glad you came. I hate staying in those places by myself."
Because no one ever comes. He waits his days out in rehab centers and hospitals, nary a call or a face there to see him afterward. Not that he expects, he knows better. But sometimes, when the hallucinations are strong enough, he almost imagines he'll find them all out there, beyond the doors, waiting to walk home with him. When his mind clears up and the drugs wear off, he sometimes has a hard time remembering if those images were ever real.
Yeah, Allison thinks bitterly. One big happy family that can’t seem to be able to stand each other. After Ben, it was like they couldn’t hang on to each other anymore; like having lost two of their brothers before they could even make it to 18 had been sufficient to pull them all apart. She had never been close to Vanya, and with Diego their relationship was more antagonizing than anything else. Luther and Klaus had always been in a different category for her, for different reasons, but when she left she knows she’s the one that broke things. Her need to get away, to not be tied to Reginald Hargreeves, had just been greater than whatever else she may have felt for them.
That’s why, when Klaus tells her to stop apologizing, her brow just furrows a little because she can’t exactly forgive herself for what happened. Even for this. She knows that Klaus would probably still have his addictions, his ghosts to deal with that wouldn’t have just gone away by her presence, but what if she had come back sooner? If she would have found him before? If she wouldn’t have left?
Her fingers continue moving gently along his hair, and she smiles at him saying that he’s glad she’s here, and how he hates being on his own in those places. “I’m glad I came, too. I hate the idea of you being on your own.”
This time Klaus hadn’t been the one waiting for someone to show up; while Allison watched her brother sleep, she kept expecting someone to walk in. Maybe Luther, maybe Vanya, maybe even Diego. The Hargreeves are well known in the city, after all; how could they not know that one of their own was in the hospital? But, with each hour that passed and no one came or even called, it made Allison’s blood boil. This is what it had all come down to, apparently, and Allison’s resolve to never cross the front doors of the Umbrella Academy was renewed.
They drive in silence for a moment before the car slows to a stop, and Katie passes her a coat for Klaus in case he wants it to use it. As her assistant gets out of the car to get the bags, Allison helps Klaus sit up. “C’mon, lets get upstairs. That tub is waiting for you.”
It's almost disappointing when the car stops, and Klaus doesn't sit up right away. He could relish in the warmth, the closeness, the lulling buzz of the car and the traffic outside. But Allison helps him up all the same and he sighs, feeling the energy leaving his body now that he's given himself a moment to relax again.
He takes the coat, however, and tugs it on, thankful for the warmth it provides. When he leans to look up at the hotel, he blinks. It's nice, nicer than anything he's stayed in before, and he feels a little like a fraud, climbing out of this car with the beloved and famous Allison Hargreeves. But he hugs the coat around himself and climbs out of the car, looking up at the place.
Klaus can't help but laugh at himself when he catches his reflection in the large windowed doors of the hotel. All the uniformed people inside and here he is, looking like death in an oversized coat and scrubs. "I'm definitely the best looking in the group," he teases to Allison, reaching to take up her arm as they walk inside.
He's relieved, however, that they don't have to check in. He just follows alongside his sister, behind Katie who leads the way to the elevators and up to their subsequent room. "You really should have told me you were getting such a swanky place, I would have worn my Sunday best," he remarks, "I'm usually a Motel 6 kind of guy. Or you know, the alley behind it but beggars can't be choosers."
But the moment they get into the room, however, Klaus wastes little time in heading for one of the large, plush beds, all but throwing himself face first onto it. A real bed that's clean, in a well-lit room, that has heat. It's a real godsend and he breathes out a happy little laugh. "Forget the tub, this is as good as sex right here. What do they make these beds out of? I bet the cloud Jesus sits his ass on isn't as soft as this is, shit."
Allison smiles at him in silent reassurance before taking his arm, staying close to him. It feels like a victory, to be able to be here, to have Klaus with her right now after fearing that he’d die, or that he wouldn’t leave the hospital with her, but here they are. Together, and it makes her hold onto him a little tighter. Especially at his remarks, and Allison can only rest her head against his shoulder for a moment as they go up on the elevator to their suite.
After Katie let’s them in the room and sets the bags down, Allison lets go of Klaus so he can explore the room while her assistant goes through the set up. The rooms at either side of their suite are joined by a door that will allow either Katie or the doctor to stop by without having to go through the hall, minimizing any exposure from prying eyes. The rooms aren’t set up in the highest floor, but it’s high enough to give them a good view of the city if they’re so inclined to check out the view. There’s a living room set up by the by the entrance of their room, and a bathroom large enough for a tub and a large shower. It is very swanky, but that’s exactly how Allison wanted it. She wanted space, room for Klaus to feel comfortable roaming around if he needed to. Couches for him to lay on if he wanted something other than the beds, because while Allison doesn’t know exactly what’s coming with his withdrawals, she doubts it’ll be easy and she wants to help in making this as comfortable as possible.
Just before Katie leaves, a bellhop drops off a new bag, this one filled with new clothes for Klaus - a pair of jeans, some sweatpants, t-shirts, and hoodies. Allison smiles in approval, and after thanking her she lets her go to her room before she turns back to Klaus with a laugh as she toes off her shoes so she can go sit down. The fact that he sounds happy thrills her, and she takes off her cardigan before sitting on the bed with him.
“Are you hungry? We can order some room service if you’re feeling up to it.”
A small part of him wonders if this is some strange, fucked up hallucination. If the drugs are just that strong this time around and this weird dream will shatter, fall apart around him and open back up to the bleak hospital room. But the bed feels real and his whole body practically sinks into it. He hasn't even bothered to take off the coat yet, either.
"Mm, food sounds awful," he groans, the admission blunt. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm hungry, but it's better for both of us if I don't eat anything right away."
The next couple of days will be horrific. They always are, filled with shakes, nausea, night-terrors and cold sweats. Partner all of that with the absolute need for a fix and the creeping sounds of the undead? Well.
"This bed might be better than the bath, I swear. Are all fancy beds this soft? I'm not used to a bed that doesn't have a spring that occasionally stabs you in the ass just to remind you that you're alive."
He slowly rolls over onto his back and reaches a hand out for one of hers, giving it a little tug. "You're sure this is all real? Like, you're not fucking around, right? You're there and I'm here and we have a whole suite? A suite with TV and room service? I feel like the Queen of England if she got hit by a double decker bus and someone killed her corgi but you know. Still the Queen."
What does the other side of this situation look like? When the withdrawal is done and they're left with whatever remnants remain? It won't be pretty, and part of him wants to warn her, but he wants to apologize before that. "You know... this is gonna suck a lot. I'm usually in places where they can lock the door and let me do my thing until I'm done and we all move on with our lives. I mean we do the happy, sit in a circle and talk about our deep, dark inner turmoil, but before all that comes the really bad shit. I..." He swallows hard and looks back up at her. "You... don't really deserve to see me like that," he laughs, a nervous sort of edge to it. "Gonna be a real clown show, let me tell ya."
"That's fine, you just let me know when you're ready."
She prefers the honest admission, not wanting him to force anything or do anything that he's not ready for. Besides, it's not like they wouldn't be able to offer anything later, if he changes his mind.
With a small laugh, she settles back against the pillows, stretching out her legs on the bed. She adjusts her position so that she's more on her side, though, when he tugs her hand and she gives his hand a small squeeze. "I'm definitely not fucking around, it's all very much real. I promise. You get a suite, with a TV, room service, and a bathtub that you can use at your disposal."
As he speaks and he warns her of what's to come, a small smile crosses her lips and she gives his hand another squeeze. "Klaus, don't worry about me. I want you to do your thing. If you want to do the circle and talk about our inner turmoil, we can go all out." It's said with a small tease, but she gives him a reassuring smile, her expression a bit more serious so he can know that she means what she's saying. "I'm not going anywhere, Klaus. You can get sick of me and I can go out for a walk while you do your thing, but I'm not leaving this place without you. If you want me here, holding your hand, or holding your hair back, or holding you, or just watch TV together... Whatever you want, I'm here."
She looks down at their hands together before turning back to him. "A doctor will be available next door, and he'll monitor you to make sure you're okay. But the room is for you to roam as you want. You can pick either bed - or both, it's up to you. The bathroom has plenty of space, or you can lay down on the couch. Just let me know what you need, and we'll make it work."
Klaus snorts a little bit at the thought and turns his head to look at her for a moment. She swears it's not a dream but he can't shake the feeling that it might be. That it's just some trip waiting to go bad because good things don't happen to him like this. They never do.
"You understand that this is the fanciest, nicest place I've been in since I was kicked out? I mean, I've been a lot of rooms and in a lot of beds but I swear this is the nicest thing I've ever felt. Can we take this to California with us, please? You said if I needed anything..."
He's joking, of course, and he rolls a little closer to her, if only so he can bury his face against her shoulder. "I mean, the pillows would do, too. They're nice. They're so fluffy and they put little chocolates on them, too.
He settles back down with a sigh, and when he slows down, it's evident how exhausted he is, the lines of his face deeper, the circles under his eyes darker. His body feels like it's slowly being subjected to the press of gravity. "I know I said I wanted a bath before, but walking sounds pretty awful right now and this coat is warm enough."
Klaus sighs. "I feel like shit, Al. Where's the fun in getting clean, anyway?"
Allison breathes out a small chuckle. “I think you’ve got the right idea, we definitely need these in California.”
If it’ll get him to go with her, she’ll fill the house with these beds and all the pillows he wants. The fact that he phrased the question with Can we take this to California with us is enough to make her heart soar, but she tries to not get her hopes up. One day at a time.
She leans her head against his when he rests against her shoulder, a small smile on her face. When he moves to settle down, she only lets go of his hand so she can reach for the duvet at the foot of the bed so she can cover their legs before she settles a little closer to him.
“Then let’s not move,” she suggests with a small smile as she takes his hand. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, hm? The fun will come later, you’ll see. In the meantime we get to hang out in a fancy suite in the city. Together.” With her free hand, she reaches up to gently brush his hair back. “We’ll figure all this out, okay? I’m not going to leave you alone, Klaus. I promise.”
Her promise feels like it's spoken in another language, like it's something he can't quite translate, because he's never heard anything like it. The idea that he might not be alone when this day ends, that he might wake up to a familiar face and a familiar room? Foreign.
"You don't have to stay, you know," he says, words already turning into a sleepy slur. "If you're not tired."
He doesn't know what time it is, but when he closes his eyes all he can see is the sun in the car window, feel the hum of the road, the feeling of Allison's fingers in his hair. He dares to let himself think: he's home. There's always been an ease, a trust, between them that has managed to stay in tact somehow between her leaving and his staying.
"I won't sleep long," he says, eyes still closed, the words a mumble against her shoulders. "I wanna hear about everything. I've missed you."
"I know," she assures him quietly, continuing to run her fingers gently through his hair in hopes that he won't fight the sleep that is already starting to claim him. "I'm not moving, though. A nap sounds pretty good right about now."
It's not really a lie; between the adrenaline she had been buzzing on, the concern, and the rollercoaster of emotions that she has been on since he woke up, she really is tired. She also wants him to know, though, that she's really not planning on moving. He can rest his eyes, and she'll be here. No matter how long he sleeps for.
Turning slightly, just enough to kiss the top of his head, she smiles gently before she settles close to him, resting her head against his. "I've missed you, too. So much, Klaus." Her eyes sting with tears, but she closes them even if the small smile remains on her lips as she whispers, "I'll fill you in on everything, I promise."
They finally had all the time in the world, after all.
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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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Klaus doesn't know where any of his siblings are. He'd see Diego occasionally, but even then it was few and far between, often from a distance. Klaus knew better than to try and inject himself into one of his sibling's lives. The only one he managed to keep up with on occasion was Allison, when he had enough time or change to use a payphone. Sometimes the call would go to the answering machine and he'd leave as long a message as the thing would allow, or until his time ran out on the phone. He'd pretend he'd spoken to her, but hadn't let her get a word in edgewise.
But the months crept on and phone calls became less frequent and he'd occasionally stop at a newspaper stand to see if her name had popped up in any of the headlines.
"Stop apologizing, jeez," Klaus whines and shifts so he can roll onto his back, looking up at her with tired eyes. "How dare you go life a fabulous life with a pretty assistant. I mean, I'm sure Patrick's grand and all but you know. Life gets busy, and what's there to do in a place like this? I mean, aren't you having a ball already? Welcome home, first class trip to the rehab center, yipee."
He lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes slowly. He squeezes her hand, resituating it on his chest if only so he can link his fingers with hers. When he speaks, it's soft, quiet enough that maybe even the assistant in the front seat will have trouble understanding him. "I'm glad you came. I hate staying in those places by myself."
Because no one ever comes. He waits his days out in rehab centers and hospitals, nary a call or a face there to see him afterward. Not that he expects, he knows better. But sometimes, when the hallucinations are strong enough, he almost imagines he'll find them all out there, beyond the doors, waiting to walk home with him. When his mind clears up and the drugs wear off, he sometimes has a hard time remembering if those images were ever real.
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That’s why, when Klaus tells her to stop apologizing, her brow just furrows a little because she can’t exactly forgive herself for what happened. Even for this. She knows that Klaus would probably still have his addictions, his ghosts to deal with that wouldn’t have just gone away by her presence, but what if she had come back sooner? If she would have found him before? If she wouldn’t have left?
Her fingers continue moving gently along his hair, and she smiles at him saying that he’s glad she’s here, and how he hates being on his own in those places. “I’m glad I came, too. I hate the idea of you being on your own.”
This time Klaus hadn’t been the one waiting for someone to show up; while Allison watched her brother sleep, she kept expecting someone to walk in. Maybe Luther, maybe Vanya, maybe even Diego. The Hargreeves are well known in the city, after all; how could they not know that one of their own was in the hospital? But, with each hour that passed and no one came or even called, it made Allison’s blood boil. This is what it had all come down to, apparently, and Allison’s resolve to never cross the front doors of the Umbrella Academy was renewed.
They drive in silence for a moment before the car slows to a stop, and Katie passes her a coat for Klaus in case he wants it to use it. As her assistant gets out of the car to get the bags, Allison helps Klaus sit up. “C’mon, lets get upstairs. That tub is waiting for you.”
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It's almost disappointing when the car stops, and Klaus doesn't sit up right away. He could relish in the warmth, the closeness, the lulling buzz of the car and the traffic outside. But Allison helps him up all the same and he sighs, feeling the energy leaving his body now that he's given himself a moment to relax again.
He takes the coat, however, and tugs it on, thankful for the warmth it provides. When he leans to look up at the hotel, he blinks. It's nice, nicer than anything he's stayed in before, and he feels a little like a fraud, climbing out of this car with the beloved and famous Allison Hargreeves. But he hugs the coat around himself and climbs out of the car, looking up at the place.
Klaus can't help but laugh at himself when he catches his reflection in the large windowed doors of the hotel. All the uniformed people inside and here he is, looking like death in an oversized coat and scrubs. "I'm definitely the best looking in the group," he teases to Allison, reaching to take up her arm as they walk inside.
He's relieved, however, that they don't have to check in. He just follows alongside his sister, behind Katie who leads the way to the elevators and up to their subsequent room. "You really should have told me you were getting such a swanky place, I would have worn my Sunday best," he remarks, "I'm usually a Motel 6 kind of guy. Or you know, the alley behind it but beggars can't be choosers."
But the moment they get into the room, however, Klaus wastes little time in heading for one of the large, plush beds, all but throwing himself face first onto it. A real bed that's clean, in a well-lit room, that has heat. It's a real godsend and he breathes out a happy little laugh. "Forget the tub, this is as good as sex right here. What do they make these beds out of? I bet the cloud Jesus sits his ass on isn't as soft as this is, shit."
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After Katie let’s them in the room and sets the bags down, Allison lets go of Klaus so he can explore the room while her assistant goes through the set up. The rooms at either side of their suite are joined by a door that will allow either Katie or the doctor to stop by without having to go through the hall, minimizing any exposure from prying eyes. The rooms aren’t set up in the highest floor, but it’s high enough to give them a good view of the city if they’re so inclined to check out the view. There’s a living room set up by the by the entrance of their room, and a bathroom large enough for a tub and a large shower. It is very swanky, but that’s exactly how Allison wanted it. She wanted space, room for Klaus to feel comfortable roaming around if he needed to. Couches for him to lay on if he wanted something other than the beds, because while Allison doesn’t know exactly what’s coming with his withdrawals, she doubts it’ll be easy and she wants to help in making this as comfortable as possible.
Just before Katie leaves, a bellhop drops off a new bag, this one filled with new clothes for Klaus - a pair of jeans, some sweatpants, t-shirts, and hoodies. Allison smiles in approval, and after thanking her she lets her go to her room before she turns back to Klaus with a laugh as she toes off her shoes so she can go sit down. The fact that he sounds happy thrills her, and she takes off her cardigan before sitting on the bed with him.
“Are you hungry? We can order some room service if you’re feeling up to it.”
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"Mm, food sounds awful," he groans, the admission blunt. "I mean don't get me wrong, I'm hungry, but it's better for both of us if I don't eat anything right away."
The next couple of days will be horrific. They always are, filled with shakes, nausea, night-terrors and cold sweats. Partner all of that with the absolute need for a fix and the creeping sounds of the undead? Well.
"This bed might be better than the bath, I swear. Are all fancy beds this soft? I'm not used to a bed that doesn't have a spring that occasionally stabs you in the ass just to remind you that you're alive."
He slowly rolls over onto his back and reaches a hand out for one of hers, giving it a little tug. "You're sure this is all real? Like, you're not fucking around, right? You're there and I'm here and we have a whole suite? A suite with TV and room service? I feel like the Queen of England if she got hit by a double decker bus and someone killed her corgi but you know. Still the Queen."
What does the other side of this situation look like? When the withdrawal is done and they're left with whatever remnants remain? It won't be pretty, and part of him wants to warn her, but he wants to apologize before that. "You know... this is gonna suck a lot. I'm usually in places where they can lock the door and let me do my thing until I'm done and we all move on with our lives. I mean we do the happy, sit in a circle and talk about our deep, dark inner turmoil, but before all that comes the really bad shit. I..." He swallows hard and looks back up at her. "You... don't really deserve to see me like that," he laughs, a nervous sort of edge to it. "Gonna be a real clown show, let me tell ya."
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She prefers the honest admission, not wanting him to force anything or do anything that he's not ready for. Besides, it's not like they wouldn't be able to offer anything later, if he changes his mind.
With a small laugh, she settles back against the pillows, stretching out her legs on the bed. She adjusts her position so that she's more on her side, though, when he tugs her hand and she gives his hand a small squeeze. "I'm definitely not fucking around, it's all very much real. I promise. You get a suite, with a TV, room service, and a bathtub that you can use at your disposal."
As he speaks and he warns her of what's to come, a small smile crosses her lips and she gives his hand another squeeze. "Klaus, don't worry about me. I want you to do your thing. If you want to do the circle and talk about our inner turmoil, we can go all out." It's said with a small tease, but she gives him a reassuring smile, her expression a bit more serious so he can know that she means what she's saying. "I'm not going anywhere, Klaus. You can get sick of me and I can go out for a walk while you do your thing, but I'm not leaving this place without you. If you want me here, holding your hand, or holding your hair back, or holding you, or just watch TV together... Whatever you want, I'm here."
She looks down at their hands together before turning back to him. "A doctor will be available next door, and he'll monitor you to make sure you're okay. But the room is for you to roam as you want. You can pick either bed - or both, it's up to you. The bathroom has plenty of space, or you can lay down on the couch. Just let me know what you need, and we'll make it work."
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Klaus snorts a little bit at the thought and turns his head to look at her for a moment. She swears it's not a dream but he can't shake the feeling that it might be. That it's just some trip waiting to go bad because good things don't happen to him like this. They never do.
"You understand that this is the fanciest, nicest place I've been in since I was kicked out? I mean, I've been a lot of rooms and in a lot of beds but I swear this is the nicest thing I've ever felt. Can we take this to California with us, please? You said if I needed anything..."
He's joking, of course, and he rolls a little closer to her, if only so he can bury his face against her shoulder. "I mean, the pillows would do, too. They're nice. They're so fluffy and they put little chocolates on them, too.
He settles back down with a sigh, and when he slows down, it's evident how exhausted he is, the lines of his face deeper, the circles under his eyes darker. His body feels like it's slowly being subjected to the press of gravity. "I know I said I wanted a bath before, but walking sounds pretty awful right now and this coat is warm enough."
Klaus sighs. "I feel like shit, Al. Where's the fun in getting clean, anyway?"
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If it’ll get him to go with her, she’ll fill the house with these beds and all the pillows he wants. The fact that he phrased the question with Can we take this to California with us is enough to make her heart soar, but she tries to not get her hopes up. One day at a time.
She leans her head against his when he rests against her shoulder, a small smile on her face. When he moves to settle down, she only lets go of his hand so she can reach for the duvet at the foot of the bed so she can cover their legs before she settles a little closer to him.
“Then let’s not move,” she suggests with a small smile as she takes his hand. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, hm? The fun will come later, you’ll see. In the meantime we get to hang out in a fancy suite in the city. Together.” With her free hand, she reaches up to gently brush his hair back. “We’ll figure all this out, okay? I’m not going to leave you alone, Klaus. I promise.”
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"You don't have to stay, you know," he says, words already turning into a sleepy slur. "If you're not tired."
He doesn't know what time it is, but when he closes his eyes all he can see is the sun in the car window, feel the hum of the road, the feeling of Allison's fingers in his hair. He dares to let himself think: he's home. There's always been an ease, a trust, between them that has managed to stay in tact somehow between her leaving and his staying.
"I won't sleep long," he says, eyes still closed, the words a mumble against her shoulders. "I wanna hear about everything. I've missed you."
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It's not really a lie; between the adrenaline she had been buzzing on, the concern, and the rollercoaster of emotions that she has been on since he woke up, she really is tired. She also wants him to know, though, that she's really not planning on moving. He can rest his eyes, and she'll be here. No matter how long he sleeps for.
Turning slightly, just enough to kiss the top of his head, she smiles gently before she settles close to him, resting her head against his. "I've missed you, too. So much, Klaus." Her eyes sting with tears, but she closes them even if the small smile remains on her lips as she whispers, "I'll fill you in on everything, I promise."
They finally had all the time in the world, after all.