"Oh, right. Yeah, she's got powers. Turns out dear old dad used Allison to convince her that she was powerless after all. All because daddy was afraid."
The fact that Reginald feared something and chose to suppress it? It makes Klaus erupt into laughter, a little unhinged, perhaps. After all, what did his father do except throw him to the wolves when he admitted how afraid he was of the ghosts, the undead? To think that Reginald would take the easy way out?
"What a bastard," he sighs. "But yeah, Vanya went bananas, naturally, but Allison stopped her in the end. Now we're all on our way to being one great, big fucked up family, yay." He raises his fists and gives them a little cheering shake. "But it's for the best, I guess. Allison and I caught a plane back here as fast as we could, obviously."
He reaches to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear, hands fishing for his mug afterward. "That place isn't good for any of us, but family's family I guess."
As much as a part of him regrets asking for details, for the most part he’s glad for it. It’s like he’s seeing missing pieces from the puzzle and, while it’s hard to know what’s going through Allison’s head right now especially since she can’t verbalize anything, this at least helps to put it together. He’ll never agree that Vanya had any right to hurt Allison the way she did, but maybe that’s just the bias in him.
Scrubbing a hand along his face, he sighs wearily before getting up for another refill of coffee and topping off Klaus’ mug as well. He needs to move, somehow staying still felt stifling for a moment.
“I’m really glad you guys came back as soon as you did.” Before anything else could happen. It could be argued that they could have probably waited a few days, considering Allison looked like she might faint by the time they landed as the last few days and almost dying caught up to her, but the selfish part of him is just glad they’re home now. Safe.
Or, well, as safe as they can be.
“If you need anything,” he says after a moment, leaning against the counter. “Anything at all. I hope you know I’m here. I’m not planning on going back to the office at least until...you know. She’s feeling somewhat better. So, really. Whatever you need.”
Klaus knows that they had almost come back sooner, and a part of him wishes they had. Allison wouldn't be the way she is, after all, but the world might have ended. It's a 50/50 deal, isn't it? Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
He smiles at the top-off of coffee, reaching one hand to brush fingers against Patrick's arm as the man moves around the kitchen.
"Oh I only need your eternal love and affection to soothe my aching, broken heart, Patrick, don't you know that?" He chuckles to himself and drinks from his mug again, humming contentedly at the warmth it provides. "I'll get her to a doctor, go back to work myself. The yogis of high Hollywood are a'calling after all. I think keeping busy will help. The sleeping, the urges, everything." His free hand absently rises to he dog tags, thumbing them, feeling the stamped ridges that press little David Katz indents into his skin.
By now Patrick is so used to Klaus’ comments that he just chuckles, shaking his head. He doesn’t mind them, though, especially now. It’s at least one thing that hasn’t changed, and he’s goddamned thankful for that.
“You should,” he agrees, turning to him and extending his hand so he can take back his cup of coffee.
“Why don’t you go to sleep in my room? God knows I won’t be sleeping any time soon, and I have some things to catch up on, anyway. I think Allison could use your company as much as you could probably use hers.”
Klaus turns away from Patrick's extended hand with mock offense on his face as he takes a few final sips of the coffee. He probably shouldn't be drinking it at all, it's bound to keep him up longer, but there's something comforting in the rush of the caffeine and warmth.
"You should sleep, too, mind you," he huffs and finally relinquishes the cup. Only when Patrick is on the move again does Klaus push away from the counter. He curls his arms around Patrick's waist from behind and presses his cheek against the man's shoulder. "But until then, you are a saint among men, a gentleman and a scholar. Thanks."
He grins and releases him, skirting past the man with a little wiggle-wave of his fingers. He stretches his arms high over his head as he steps into the hallway, pausing to looking back at the man. "We'll have the old Allison back before you know it." He smiles still, but there's an edge to it, a sadness, an understanding. "See you in the morning."
He might just go lay down in Claire’s bed, whether or not he’s tired. At least having his daughter close, watching her sleep, will help calm everything that’s rattling around in his brain.
The hug makes Patrick smile fondly, and while he can’t exactly return it, he pats his arm before moving to the sink to rinse the mugs as Klaus resumes his walk out of the kitchen. At his words about getting the old Allison back, he turns back to Klaus, a small smile of his own pulls at his lips but it’s not very convincing. He isn’t sure anymore if the old Allison is really trapped in there, like how her voice is, and just can’t find her way back anymore or if what happened has flipped everything. It’s probably too early to tell, but the murkiness of it all makes it hard to really even think this could be just temporary.
He doesn’t say that, though. He just nods as if he believes it, and in appreciation for Klaus. In gratefulness for the fact that he’s here, that he’s not fighting him on going to lay down with Allison because at least that feels normal.
“See you in the morning,” he echoes before turning back to finish cleaning up, letting himself get lost in the silence of the house.
Klaus gives a little wave in Patrick's direction, "See you. Don't stay up too late, mister. If the adoring fans see us both with bags under our eyes, whatever will they think?"
He pads down the hall, pausing to peek in at Claire, who should be sound asleep. She isn't, and when he pokes his head into her room she peers up at him, giving a sleepy wave. "Ohhh, someone's in trouble. They woke the princess from her beauty sleep." And he sneaks in to kiss her forehead, listens to her mumble something sleepily incoherent, before he all but bundles her up into her blankets. (She often brags about how Klaus is the best 'tucker-inner' in the house).
Once he's sure the little one is tucked safely into her bed and asleep, he turns back to the hall and slips into Patrick and Allison's bedroom. He doesn't bother shucking off his jeans, instead just sliding into the warm, empty space beside his sister. He's been in this spot before, in days long past when nightmares kept him up and the shakes prevented anything else.
So he's careful and quiet when he sinks his weight into the bed and tucks himself away under the covers. He doesn't expect to fall asleep as quickly as he does, but exhaustion finally takes its toll. He drifts off. At some point in his sleep he shifts, tossing and turning with the occasional fright, and ends up all but snuggled to her side, seeking out warmth as he rests.
Allison doesn’t move when Klaus slips into bed with her, the effects of the painkillers helping her relax enough to at least rest. Even if she has been in bed, and sleeping more than she has ever slept in her life, every time she tries to sleep she’s haunted. By Reginald, by Vanya, by memories that she has suppressed that have made their way forth at full strength.
But, for now she just sleeps. At some point she opens her eyes slightly, still drowsy and her thoughts feeling sluggish, but when she sees Klaus sleeping next to her she just lets herself drift off again. She doesn’t even question it; seeing her brother is so comforting that she doesn’t bother waking up completely, and she lets herself slip back into the comfortable darkness she had been in before.
The stillness doesn’t last for long, though. She dreams of the cabin, the way the whole place rattled. The way the lightbulbs shattered around her.
”I heard a rumor—”
She gasps, her mouth opening to cry out, but nothing comes out. That’s when she realizes she’s not in the cabin anymore. It’s her bedroom ceiling above her. Vanya isn’t here, the room isn’t shaking anymore, and even if in some level she knows it had been a nightmare, a hand still flies to her neck. She fully expects to feel blood, to feel the way it kept slipping through her fingers, but there’s nothing except for the gauze covering the stitches. And, god, she feels so stupid. She feels so stupid for the way she’s shaking, how her heart feels like it’s going to burst out of her chest. How her stomach feels like it swirls uncomfortably, and she closes her eyes as if willing it all to stop.
The effects of time travel and the general coming of the apocalypse have turned Klaus into a light sleeper. So when Allison gasps and jerks to consciousness, he wakes, too. It takes a second for him to understand whats going on, all sleepy brained and sleepy eyed, but he reaches for her arm instinctively.
"Al?"
He pushes himself up and rubs his free hand over his eyes, back through his wild hair. "Hey, hey, hey," he finally mutters, reaching to curl his arms around her beneath the covers and pull her close to his chest.
"I got you. Just take some deep breaths. In and out, atta girl..."
The sound of his voice alone helps to ground her, reminding her of where she is and where she isn’t, and she buries her face in his chest as she holds onto him. Allison isn’t a stranger to nightmares - she doubts anyone in her family is - but she’s not used to them being this strong anymore. She can still feel the blood on her, the sense of helplessness and dread as she bled out on the floor of that goddamned cabin hitting her like a ton of bricks, but she tries to follow Klaus’ instructions even if her lungs feel too small for her body. If she had her voice, it’d be impossible to hide the way her breath shudders into a sort of whimper as she transitions between the remnants of the nightmare to actually being awake, but instead there’s nothing. Just absolute silence from her end, except for the way her breathing finally settles into a more normal level.
For a moment she stays still, not willing to move at first, but eventually she pulls back slightly once she trusts herself a little bit more. She feels so stupid, when Klaus is the one that had gone back in time - to war, no less - and she’s here. Freaking out about what happened.
She swallows hard, her features pinching with pain for a moment before she finally makes eye contact with Klaus even if she looks embarrassed more than anything else as she mouths a silent I’m sorry to him.
Klaus can practically see the blood himself as well. The whole car ride spent with ratcheted nerves only to find his sister bleeding out and dying. (Klaus had believed she was dead when he first saw her, and he can’t forgive the thought). He squeezes her tight against his chest, reaching to pet her hair, anything he can do to help sooth her back into some semblance of calm.
He kisses her temple and sighs.
“Why are you apologizing? Trust me, if you hasn’t woken me I was about thirty seconds from a snoring session that would wake the whole house. I could feel it. I could.”
Klaus lets his mouth run away with him in situations like this, knowing the humor provides a buffer for both parties to ease back into whatever feels normal.
“Keep breathing, you’re fine. You’re home. I’d claim I could scare away the big bads, but they don’t exactly fall under my purview most days. It really should be, however. I can never conjure anyone fun.”
Allison breathes out a silent huff that's intended to be a chuckle, closing her eyes for a moment. She feels her lips tremble as she does so, the relief of being here and being home suddenly overwhelming, but she bites the inside of her cheek tightly as if to force herself to pull herself together.
God, she thinks, she's such a mess. Her eyes feel puffy - from sleep or from crying earlier with Patrick, she isn't sure - and she feels like crap, but she curls against Klaus. For a moment she just does as he suggests, she just keeps breathing, until she's close to a semblance of normal even if that new definition of it is skewed at this point.
Turning to her brother, she reaches up at him to touch his face, to try to look at him. She can't verbally ask how he's doing, but thankfully her facial expressions are obvious enough to inquire nonetheless. Yes, in a lot of ways she's deflecting, but she also wants to know considering she has been worried about him as well.
Klaus keeps her close to his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her. He waits for her breathing to even out before he even considers loosening his hold, and even then it's only enough for her to move and look up at him.
"I'm fine," he murmurs, leaning his face against her hand, smiling a little. "I promise. Maybe a little sad, a little angry, and very tired but fine. I think I might even go back to work. Stretching and all that stupid meditation bullshit does wonders for the brain, or so they say. I let the rich bastards believe what they want."
He kisses her forehead, loud and over the top, before looking down at her again. "Maybe you, me and Claire can do some family yoga. Let Patrick laugh at us. Ooh, or better yet, I'll make Patrick put on the little tights and do it. Good fun for all of us."
It’s comforting, to have Klaus here and she finds herself thanking the fact that he had been here when she had woken up. While she hates to put anything of what she’s dealing through on anyone, the part of her that has always worried that her old life is too much for Patrick stresses about adding more to everything. He’s doing great, and while she trusts him, she can’t help but worry considering this isn’t at all what he had been used to with her.
With Klaus, she hates adding more to what he himself went through during their trip home, but at the same time the fact that they both went through hell together helps in knowing that he understands this aftermath. She hates that he understands it, because she’ll never stop wishing that he didn’t have to, but selfishly it helps her to not feel so lonely.
She tries to return the smile, but it barely comes out as a twitch of her lips. She even nods slightly when he says that he’s planning on going back to work because she hopes that will help him, but she pauses when he suggests a session of family yoga. She wants to say no, getting up sounds exhausting, but she already knows Klaus probably won’t take no for an answer. Although, if she’s honest with herself, maybe it’s not a terrible idea. The mental image alone actually manages to make her breathe out what would be a chuckle, and this time a hint of a smile curves at her lips.
With a small sigh, she nods slightly in agreement. She looks a little hesitant, but who is she kidding. She can’t deny Klaus anything.
"Oh, good. I'll make sure to let them both know to come prepared for a grueling workout, where the Hargreeves will undoubtably kick both of their asses."
Klaus squeezes his sister softly before he releases her, only to flop back down into the bed.
"But your instructor for the day requires a few more hours of beauty sleep. Or at least quality snuggling with his sister in her marriage bed, of course!" He stretches his arms out wide and all but rolls around in the blankets before he all but flops on her in return.
"So we shall rest, we shall wake and do yoga and maybe even ice cream because ice cream seems like the best post-workout treat. That and I think Claire has been subtly hinting at it because she keeps drawing me pictures of very unfortunate looking ice cream cones. If she wasn't but seven years old I'd be very concerned with all the implications."
Allison huffs out a breath when he flops on her, but by the small shake of her shoulders he may be able to tell that it’s intended to be a laugh. This is the first time she has done that since that fateful night at the cabin, and even if it feels pathetic and wrong considering there’s no sound even if her body still goes through the motions, there’s a very small part that feels almost relieved. As if that breath had been trapped in, suffocating her.
The pseudo laugh comes again when Klaus talks about Claire’s drawings, and she shakes her head at him. Her smile becomes a little tight despite herself, though, unable to hide it; not because of what he said, but at the idea of spending a whole afternoon together with the whole family. Which is horrible, and she knows that. She should be happy, thrilled at having a chance to be with them after almost dying, and while she does feel relieved at that she also knows it won’t be easy. She won’t be able to properly communicate with them, she won’t be able to laugh or talk. She won’t be able to tease Patrick or Klaus, or whisper with Claire before they disappear to the kitchen for a snack. She knows she’ll be able write whatever she has to say, that there are alternatives, but she feels so cut out from how life used to be that it feels like her heart gets wrung tight inside of her. The ache of it is so strong that unconsciously she rubs at her chest bone as if that will help at all.
Sleep, she ‘says’ to Klaus before he can call her out in it, bringing the covers tighter around him from her spot on the bed. As if motioning for him to get some rest, especially since she had woken him up.
Klaus lets out a sigh, but he can't help the tiniest feeling of victory when he sees her shoulders shaking in a laugh. He knew that there was something of the Allison from before in there, it was just going to take some time.
He does see something change in her face, however, but she seems to deflect it as quickly as he thinks to bring it up. Instead, he relents, snuggling back into the covers, giving her hand a little tug.
"If I'm here sleeping, we're both sleeping, sister," he teases, and if she'll let him? He'll tug her in against his chest. He likes to think the nightmares won't think to emerge if a living nightmare's sitting there waiting for them, after all.
Allison doesn’t fight him; when he tugs her towards him, she’s already moving to rest against him. She still doesn’t feel ready to get up just yet, so she’s thankful for that, but it also helps to have Klaus here. His presence is as comforting to her as it’s always been, and it feels almost as if some things hadn’t changed which helps to appease some of the turbulence in her head.
Since they’re so close, she taps her fingertips against his chest, right where his heart is, three times gently, slowly. As if each one carries a different word, to say what she wants to tell him right now, but can’t.
I love you.
It doesn’t feel like enough, not with everything he has done for her and continues to do for her even if he may not realize it. And he may not even get it, but she feels compelled to ‘say it’ in whatever way she can.
Klaus can't help but look down as she taps his chest, watching the rise and fall of her finger in triplet. He doesn't have to hear her voice to know what the touch means and in response, he presses three little kisses to her forehead before he turns his head to press his cheek against her hair.
"We'll find our way out of this mess," he says on a sigh, rubbing her back in slow, broad circles. "You've got me, after all. And I learned from the best."
Where would he be without her? Where would his life have gone had she not picked up the pieces of him in the hospital room and dragged him around until he was whole again? There will never be enough words in the world to thank Allison Hargreeves. Never.
"But until then, you should rest. Beauty sleep for Hollywood's most prized jewel is of utmost importance. I can make a lot of things go in style, darling, but bags is not one of them."
The tension in her shoulders seem to ease up at least enough for her to relax against Klaus when she realizes that he did understand her message. As much as she had been telling herself that it didn’t matter if he didn’t get it, now that she knows he did, she realizes that hadn’t quite been the case. Feeling like she’s cut out from her family in any way has been feeling like it’s suffocating her, as if everything she wants to say just keeps piling in her throat and not letting her breathe, but this helps her not feel so stuck.
Although she doesn’t look up at him to show him how thankful she is for him, she’s pressed against him enough for him to feel the way her lips curve into a small smile as she nods slightly. A few tears sneak past her, rolling down her cheeks, but for the first time in days it’s not out of outright hopelessness anymore.
Nestling close fo him, she closes her eyes, her body slowly relaxing. The mental toll is exhausting and, while she wants to ignore it, it’s what’s making it easy to listen to him as he encourages her to rest. With him here, she’s letting his presence quiet down the nagging memories and thoughts in her head. She knows it’s likely that it won’t last long, but for now... For now, this is all she needs, and within minutes she’s already drifting off to sleep.
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no subject
The fact that Reginald feared something and chose to suppress it? It makes Klaus erupt into laughter, a little unhinged, perhaps. After all, what did his father do except throw him to the wolves when he admitted how afraid he was of the ghosts, the undead? To think that Reginald would take the easy way out?
"What a bastard," he sighs. "But yeah, Vanya went bananas, naturally, but Allison stopped her in the end. Now we're all on our way to being one great, big fucked up family, yay." He raises his fists and gives them a little cheering shake. "But it's for the best, I guess. Allison and I caught a plane back here as fast as we could, obviously."
He reaches to tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear, hands fishing for his mug afterward. "That place isn't good for any of us, but family's family I guess."
no subject
Scrubbing a hand along his face, he sighs wearily before getting up for another refill of coffee and topping off Klaus’ mug as well. He needs to move, somehow staying still felt stifling for a moment.
“I’m really glad you guys came back as soon as you did.” Before anything else could happen. It could be argued that they could have probably waited a few days, considering Allison looked like she might faint by the time they landed as the last few days and almost dying caught up to her, but the selfish part of him is just glad they’re home now. Safe.
Or, well, as safe as they can be.
“If you need anything,” he says after a moment, leaning against the counter. “Anything at all. I hope you know I’m here. I’m not planning on going back to the office at least until...you know. She’s feeling somewhat better. So, really. Whatever you need.”
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He smiles at the top-off of coffee, reaching one hand to brush fingers against Patrick's arm as the man moves around the kitchen.
"Oh I only need your eternal love and affection to soothe my aching, broken heart, Patrick, don't you know that?" He chuckles to himself and drinks from his mug again, humming contentedly at the warmth it provides. "I'll get her to a doctor, go back to work myself. The yogis of high Hollywood are a'calling after all. I think keeping busy will help. The sleeping, the urges, everything." His free hand absently rises to he dog tags, thumbing them, feeling the stamped ridges that press little David Katz indents into his skin.
"God, I should try and sleep."
no subject
“You should,” he agrees, turning to him and extending his hand so he can take back his cup of coffee.
“Why don’t you go to sleep in my room? God knows I won’t be sleeping any time soon, and I have some things to catch up on, anyway. I think Allison could use your company as much as you could probably use hers.”
no subject
"You should sleep, too, mind you," he huffs and finally relinquishes the cup. Only when Patrick is on the move again does Klaus push away from the counter. He curls his arms around Patrick's waist from behind and presses his cheek against the man's shoulder. "But until then, you are a saint among men, a gentleman and a scholar. Thanks."
He grins and releases him, skirting past the man with a little wiggle-wave of his fingers. He stretches his arms high over his head as he steps into the hallway, pausing to looking back at the man. "We'll have the old Allison back before you know it." He smiles still, but there's an edge to it, a sadness, an understanding. "See you in the morning."
no subject
He might just go lay down in Claire’s bed, whether or not he’s tired. At least having his daughter close, watching her sleep, will help calm everything that’s rattling around in his brain.
The hug makes Patrick smile fondly, and while he can’t exactly return it, he pats his arm before moving to the sink to rinse the mugs as Klaus resumes his walk out of the kitchen. At his words about getting the old Allison back, he turns back to Klaus, a small smile of his own pulls at his lips but it’s not very convincing. He isn’t sure anymore if the old Allison is really trapped in there, like how her voice is, and just can’t find her way back anymore or if what happened has flipped everything. It’s probably too early to tell, but the murkiness of it all makes it hard to really even think this could be just temporary.
He doesn’t say that, though. He just nods as if he believes it, and in appreciation for Klaus. In gratefulness for the fact that he’s here, that he’s not fighting him on going to lay down with Allison because at least that feels normal.
“See you in the morning,” he echoes before turning back to finish cleaning up, letting himself get lost in the silence of the house.
no subject
He pads down the hall, pausing to peek in at Claire, who should be sound asleep. She isn't, and when he pokes his head into her room she peers up at him, giving a sleepy wave. "Ohhh, someone's in trouble. They woke the princess from her beauty sleep." And he sneaks in to kiss her forehead, listens to her mumble something sleepily incoherent, before he all but bundles her up into her blankets. (She often brags about how Klaus is the best 'tucker-inner' in the house).
Once he's sure the little one is tucked safely into her bed and asleep, he turns back to the hall and slips into Patrick and Allison's bedroom. He doesn't bother shucking off his jeans, instead just sliding into the warm, empty space beside his sister. He's been in this spot before, in days long past when nightmares kept him up and the shakes prevented anything else.
So he's careful and quiet when he sinks his weight into the bed and tucks himself away under the covers. He doesn't expect to fall asleep as quickly as he does, but exhaustion finally takes its toll. He drifts off. At some point in his sleep he shifts, tossing and turning with the occasional fright, and ends up all but snuggled to her side, seeking out warmth as he rests.
cw: nightmares/blood
But, for now she just sleeps. At some point she opens her eyes slightly, still drowsy and her thoughts feeling sluggish, but when she sees Klaus sleeping next to her she just lets herself drift off again. She doesn’t even question it; seeing her brother is so comforting that she doesn’t bother waking up completely, and she lets herself slip back into the comfortable darkness she had been in before.
The stillness doesn’t last for long, though. She dreams of the cabin, the way the whole place rattled. The way the lightbulbs shattered around her.
”I heard a rumor—”
She gasps, her mouth opening to cry out, but nothing comes out. That’s when she realizes she’s not in the cabin anymore. It’s her bedroom ceiling above her. Vanya isn’t here, the room isn’t shaking anymore, and even if in some level she knows it had been a nightmare, a hand still flies to her neck. She fully expects to feel blood, to feel the way it kept slipping through her fingers, but there’s nothing except for the gauze covering the stitches. And, god, she feels so stupid. She feels so stupid for the way she’s shaking, how her heart feels like it’s going to burst out of her chest. How her stomach feels like it swirls uncomfortably, and she closes her eyes as if willing it all to stop.
no subject
"Al?"
He pushes himself up and rubs his free hand over his eyes, back through his wild hair. "Hey, hey, hey," he finally mutters, reaching to curl his arms around her beneath the covers and pull her close to his chest.
"I got you. Just take some deep breaths. In and out, atta girl..."
no subject
For a moment she stays still, not willing to move at first, but eventually she pulls back slightly once she trusts herself a little bit more. She feels so stupid, when Klaus is the one that had gone back in time - to war, no less - and she’s here. Freaking out about what happened.
She swallows hard, her features pinching with pain for a moment before she finally makes eye contact with Klaus even if she looks embarrassed more than anything else as she mouths a silent I’m sorry to him.
no subject
He kisses her temple and sighs.
“Why are you apologizing? Trust me, if you hasn’t woken me I was about thirty seconds from a snoring session that would wake the whole house. I could feel it. I could.”
Klaus lets his mouth run away with him in situations like this, knowing the humor provides a buffer for both parties to ease back into whatever feels normal.
“Keep breathing, you’re fine. You’re home. I’d claim I could scare away the big bads, but they don’t exactly fall under my purview most days. It really should be, however. I can never conjure anyone fun.”
no subject
God, she thinks, she's such a mess. Her eyes feel puffy - from sleep or from crying earlier with Patrick, she isn't sure - and she feels like crap, but she curls against Klaus. For a moment she just does as he suggests, she just keeps breathing, until she's close to a semblance of normal even if that new definition of it is skewed at this point.
Turning to her brother, she reaches up at him to touch his face, to try to look at him. She can't verbally ask how he's doing, but thankfully her facial expressions are obvious enough to inquire nonetheless. Yes, in a lot of ways she's deflecting, but she also wants to know considering she has been worried about him as well.
no subject
"I'm fine," he murmurs, leaning his face against her hand, smiling a little. "I promise. Maybe a little sad, a little angry, and very tired but fine. I think I might even go back to work. Stretching and all that stupid meditation bullshit does wonders for the brain, or so they say. I let the rich bastards believe what they want."
He kisses her forehead, loud and over the top, before looking down at her again. "Maybe you, me and Claire can do some family yoga. Let Patrick laugh at us. Ooh, or better yet, I'll make Patrick put on the little tights and do it. Good fun for all of us."
no subject
With Klaus, she hates adding more to what he himself went through during their trip home, but at the same time the fact that they both went through hell together helps in knowing that he understands this aftermath. She hates that he understands it, because she’ll never stop wishing that he didn’t have to, but selfishly it helps her to not feel so lonely.
She tries to return the smile, but it barely comes out as a twitch of her lips. She even nods slightly when he says that he’s planning on going back to work because she hopes that will help him, but she pauses when he suggests a session of family yoga. She wants to say no, getting up sounds exhausting, but she already knows Klaus probably won’t take no for an answer. Although, if she’s honest with herself, maybe it’s not a terrible idea. The mental image alone actually manages to make her breathe out what would be a chuckle, and this time a hint of a smile curves at her lips.
With a small sigh, she nods slightly in agreement. She looks a little hesitant, but who is she kidding. She can’t deny Klaus anything.
no subject
Klaus squeezes his sister softly before he releases her, only to flop back down into the bed.
"But your instructor for the day requires a few more hours of beauty sleep. Or at least quality snuggling with his sister in her marriage bed, of course!" He stretches his arms out wide and all but rolls around in the blankets before he all but flops on her in return.
"So we shall rest, we shall wake and do yoga and maybe even ice cream because ice cream seems like the best post-workout treat. That and I think Claire has been subtly hinting at it because she keeps drawing me pictures of very unfortunate looking ice cream cones. If she wasn't but seven years old I'd be very concerned with all the implications."
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The pseudo laugh comes again when Klaus talks about Claire’s drawings, and she shakes her head at him. Her smile becomes a little tight despite herself, though, unable to hide it; not because of what he said, but at the idea of spending a whole afternoon together with the whole family. Which is horrible, and she knows that. She should be happy, thrilled at having a chance to be with them after almost dying, and while she does feel relieved at that she also knows it won’t be easy. She won’t be able to properly communicate with them, she won’t be able to laugh or talk. She won’t be able to tease Patrick or Klaus, or whisper with Claire before they disappear to the kitchen for a snack. She knows she’ll be able write whatever she has to say, that there are alternatives, but she feels so cut out from how life used to be that it feels like her heart gets wrung tight inside of her. The ache of it is so strong that unconsciously she rubs at her chest bone as if that will help at all.
Sleep, she ‘says’ to Klaus before he can call her out in it, bringing the covers tighter around him from her spot on the bed. As if motioning for him to get some rest, especially since she had woken him up.
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He does see something change in her face, however, but she seems to deflect it as quickly as he thinks to bring it up. Instead, he relents, snuggling back into the covers, giving her hand a little tug.
"If I'm here sleeping, we're both sleeping, sister," he teases, and if she'll let him? He'll tug her in against his chest. He likes to think the nightmares won't think to emerge if a living nightmare's sitting there waiting for them, after all.
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Since they’re so close, she taps her fingertips against his chest, right where his heart is, three times gently, slowly. As if each one carries a different word, to say what she wants to tell him right now, but can’t.
I love you.
It doesn’t feel like enough, not with everything he has done for her and continues to do for her even if he may not realize it. And he may not even get it, but she feels compelled to ‘say it’ in whatever way she can.
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"We'll find our way out of this mess," he says on a sigh, rubbing her back in slow, broad circles. "You've got me, after all. And I learned from the best."
Where would he be without her? Where would his life have gone had she not picked up the pieces of him in the hospital room and dragged him around until he was whole again? There will never be enough words in the world to thank Allison Hargreeves. Never.
"But until then, you should rest. Beauty sleep for Hollywood's most prized jewel is of utmost importance. I can make a lot of things go in style, darling, but bags is not one of them."
❤️
Although she doesn’t look up at him to show him how thankful she is for him, she’s pressed against him enough for him to feel the way her lips curve into a small smile as she nods slightly. A few tears sneak past her, rolling down her cheeks, but for the first time in days it’s not out of outright hopelessness anymore.
Nestling close fo him, she closes her eyes, her body slowly relaxing. The mental toll is exhausting and, while she wants to ignore it, it’s what’s making it easy to listen to him as he encourages her to rest. With him here, she’s letting his presence quiet down the nagging memories and thoughts in her head. She knows it’s likely that it won’t last long, but for now... For now, this is all she needs, and within minutes she’s already drifting off to sleep.