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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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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
thanks inbox
"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.