Diego shakes his head at the clarification, a grumbled that stupid son of a bitch under his breath that's almost hidden as he's about to take a sip of his coffee again. He's not sure how much of Luther's reaction is due to Klaus, or to other shit altogether - or if it's everything combined - but, either way, it's annoying as shit right now.
Especially when he mentions how Luther threw him out, and a frown immediately settles on his face at that. Not in surprise, but in disapproval even now, these many years later. Sure, Klaus had his issues, but for Luther to have thrown him out... Diego is never going to be okay with that.
The way Klaus sets his head on his shoulder makes him huff out a quiet chuckle, partly in surprise because he hadn't quite expected it. Although maybe he should have, considering Klaus and his very little regard for personal space.
"I stayed in New York," he answers, and although he doesn't shrug, it's almost as if the movement is audible in his voice. For a moment he stays quiet as if he's weighing out what to say, before finally continuing. "I tried out the police academy, but it didn't work out." It's said as if it doesn't matter, as if he hadn't gotten kicked out, and he wonders if Klaus can guess that part.
"That's where I met Patch, actually. We kept working together after, just...me not officially, I guess. I didn't stop going on missions, I just did it on my own."
Klaus's head doesn't say on Diego's shoulder for long, just enough to urge the man into talking before he sits back up, sipping at his coffee. It's deliciously warm and staves off the chill of the infirmary.
"You're too good for the police," he muses quietly, thoughtful. He can gather what happened, to some extent, but Diego doesn't offer and Klaus doesn't press. He nudges him with an elbow. "I can't fathom you in a uniform every day that isn't all masks and knives and spandex."
But to think of Diego, hitting the streets, helping solve problems, working alongside detectives and policemen? It's nice. Sure, he heard about Diego, ran into him a handful of times in that first handful of years on his own, but he never saw the bigger picture. "Good thing they have you. New York. She seemed like a nice lady. I see why you liked her."
Even in the short exchange he could see how dedicated the woman was to her work, how quickly she thought on her toes, how somehow, she had found him before his siblings. If only she'd known there were two of them, if only he'd been able to stomach the words and warn her, as beaten and fatigued as he'd been.
"I'm sorry you lost her," he says quietly, sobering, a hand dropping to give the man's knee a squeeze. "Sorry I couldn't help more. That I didn't." He huffs softly, shaking his head at the memory, closing his eyes against it for a moment longer. Somewhere across the room there's the echo of Ben's voice it's not your fault, Klaus, but for the first time in years, he ignores it.
Diego huffs out a breath that's intended to be a chuckle, but it doesn't quite reach that sound. Even now, years later, despite how much he may act like the failure of that attempt isn't something he cares about, deep down he knows it's a lie. And it's not even because he wants the fucking uniform, or to get anything out of it, he just wants to protect people. He wants to keep them safe. Isn't that what he's supposed to do? He and Reginald had plenty of differences, and god knows that he rebelled against everything and anything their father set forth for them, but this? He feels it in his bones that he can do the right thing, that he can make a difference.
Ultimately, he had gone his own route with it, and while it would drive Patch crazy, he knows that she understood him and that need better than a lot of people did. It's part of what irritated her, actually, but Diego couldn't stop. He doubts he'll ever be able to.
The ghost of a smile crosses his lips when Klaus says that it's good that the city has him, and there's a tinge of sadness in his expression when he brings up Patch. He hates this, the way his heart aches. The way he already misses her, how there's an urge he can't shake away at the fact that he wants to pick up the phone one more time and call her. He wants one more chance to apologize, to tell her she had been right. That he had been wrong. That he had fucked up, that he was so damn sorry.
That he loves her. God, how he wishes he could tell her that he loves her.
His gaze is lost in nothing in particular, when Klaus's words pull him out of his thoughts. His brow furrows into a small frown, but the way he pats the hand that's on his knee is reassuring. Almost gentle.
"It's not your fault, you didn't kill her." He stays quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again his voice is uncharacteristically low, almost soft for a moment. "All she wanted was to serve, and save people. She'd tell you the same thing." He lets the words linger between them for a moment, before he glances over at his brother. "I'm glad she was able to find you and get you out."
Klaus knows the look on Diego's face intimately; the man has gone somewhere far off, distant, and even though his body is otherwise rooted in the infirmary, he might as well be somewhere else. Maybe it's a street of New York, maybe it's the blood splattered motel room, maybe it's the cabin where they found Allison. Klaus will never know where the man's mind goes, but he knows it's a journey that could very well rip ones heart out.
His eyes raise when the man pats his hand and he smiles faintly, sadly. "Yes, well, I'm sorry all the same. After all, if she put up with you in any capacity, she must have been an excellent woman."
Klaus almost offers, almost suggests they conjure her, because he might be able to. He's too afraid to reach into the ether, to feel out for the edges of her existence. Would it be worth it, pulling her back from the other side for a fleeting goodbye? What would it do for Diego? What would it do for her spirit in unrest?
But he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes tangy copper and lets out a little huff. His free hand reaches to pat the hand over his own, giving it a soft squeeze before he pulls them back altogether, back into his own lap, cradling the coffee mug he sat aside.
"Talk about a family reunion, huh?" He tilts his head a little, blowing out a long sigh. "If I could have stopped it, I would have. I was afraid they'd find the rest of you. Just means that when we see them again, we owe them a real whopping, huh?"
Nothing will take the pain away, nothing will cure the hurt of the loss, nothing will really bring her back. Not yet. Not permanently. Klaus's eyes shift at movement in the corner of his eye, and whether Diego will be able to feel it or not, Ben's there, hand on his brother's shoulder.
Not yet, Klaus knows. Not yet. Even Ben gives a sad shake of his head, and Klaus almost feels guilty all over again. Isn't that always the story of their lives, as Hargreeves children? Not yet? Not enough?
Instead of answering, instead of letting himself really go further down the dark corners of his mind, Diego downs what's left of his coffee. It burns through the knot in his throat, through the haze his mind feels like it's temporarily in with memories of Patch, with regret and guilt.
It's not enough, though. Especially when Klaus says that he had been afraid Hazel and Chacha would find the rest of them, and his jaw clenches shut. The aggression that he sometimes clings to as a safer shield than anything else he could be feeling makes him wants to chew him out, just how he had done with Vanya that night. You could have been killed, he wants to shout to him as well, the reality of it making something in his stomach twist painfully, but he just scrubs a hand along his face before shaking his head.
"When we find them they'll regret ever coming near here." The 'I'm sorry' makes his skin crawl, makes him want to say how it's fine, it doesn't matter, but it's a lie. He can't regret Klaus being here, and he never would no matter how much he may miss Patch, but none of this is fine. Just thinking of the words sets a bitter taste in his mouth, so instead he focus on the fact that they will find those bastards and make them pay. It's the best thing he can cling to right now; it's at least one thing he can solve.
As he sets down the now empty mug on the ground, he sighs under his breath before he nudges Klaus's leg again. "You should get some sleep. I'll stay here and wake you up if needed."
"You bet your ass they will," he laughs a little. If only because when Hazel and Chacha find them again, Klaus has a funny feeling it will be at the end of the world. Or the apocalypse. They might as well be one in the same, right? If they can't save Vanya, if they can't stop what she does, then there's little else to worry about.
But they will, somehow. Klaus knows for certain that he will do everything in his power to find a way to help, to make sure that Vanya isn't wrong again like she has been for so many years. It's what Allison would want, too.
"Sleep? Who needs that!" Klaus sighs softly, looking over at Allison again, glancing between her and the vitals monitor. Stable, but unconscious. "You're the one who should sleep Mr. Vigilante," he huffs, nudging the man's knee again with his own. But Diego's right, isn't he? Klaus can feel how heavy his body is, he'd seen the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror. Hell, he could have fallen asleep under the hot spray of the shower, standing up no less.
"An hour," he says finally, though it sounds like he's all but chewing it, practically pulling the admission out of himself by force. "Just wake me up in an hour. I can get by on next to nothing, but I swear I will shave that pretty head bald in your sleep if you let me go any longer, mister."
He stands from his spot and looks over Allison, reaching up to carefully tuck her hair away from her face. Gorgeous, even near death, the bitch. He'll have to fuss at her for that later. "You sure?" He says, glancing over at Diego next, really taking in the look of him now that he's not sitting shoulder to shoulder.
It’s said with a scoff, as if the mere idea of sleep is ridiculous when it comes to him. And, well, he’s used to not sleeping. Normally his ‘job’ is at night, so he’d be awake at this time, anyway; and despite the shitty last few days, it’s as if he’s buzzing with adrenaline and anger. Sitting still is already hard enough, there’s no way in hell he would be able to even try to sleep.
But Klaus needs sleep - he’s the one that went to Vietnam, after all. And, while Diego cares about Allison, this whole thing isn’t taking the same emotional toll that it’s taking on Klaus considering his relationship with their sister. Diego is ready to point out as much, and even point out that Allison is going to need him alert once she wakes up, because he doubts she’ll take the news of her voice being gone well, but thankfully it doesn’t get to that. Klaus is agreeing to sleep, and he nods slightly when he instructs him to wake him up in an hour.
“Got it. One hour.” It’s said with a straight face, as if he has every intention to listen to him, but...he’ll just wake him up later. It’s not like he has much hair to lose, anyway; Klaus can shave him bald for all he cares.
Stretching out his legs in front of him, he crosses his ankles and nods again. “Yep, definitely sure. Go before I knock you out myself so that you can sleep.”
A laugh bubbles up out of his chest as Diego denies the need for sleep. "Oh, okay, pot, meet kettle. What a lovely pair we make."
The very idea of sleeping, though, triggers something in him already, limbs growing heavy, eyes even heavier. It feels like a betrayal, to sleep while Allison stays there, injured on the bed. How many hours did she stay up for him in the throes of withdrawal, when there was nothing she could do? It feels like a lifetime ago, all of it.
But the fact that Diego will stay and keep watch puts Klaus at ease. He knows that his brother will wake him when needed, even if Klaus himself is suspicious that Diego will let him sleep over an hour. He knows how family works, after all, particularly this one.
He drops his hand to Diego's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a little shake. "Stubborn bastard," he murmurs. The cot doesn't look all that appealing, really, but being any farther from his sister is too much to worry about. So he pulls the cot down and the blanket Pogo left and lowers himself down onto it, curling up onto his side like he might have as a boy, his back to Diego.
"An hour," he sleepily reminds his brother with the huff of a laugh. He might wake himself up long before that, really, with the new stretch of nightmares and the voices in this eyes. "You keep watch," he says on a yawn, a hand waving idly, and while Diego might think it's directed at him? It's to Ben, who takes up the chair Klaus left. With that, Klaus begins to drift to sleep.
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no subject
Especially when he mentions how Luther threw him out, and a frown immediately settles on his face at that. Not in surprise, but in disapproval even now, these many years later. Sure, Klaus had his issues, but for Luther to have thrown him out... Diego is never going to be okay with that.
The way Klaus sets his head on his shoulder makes him huff out a quiet chuckle, partly in surprise because he hadn't quite expected it. Although maybe he should have, considering Klaus and his very little regard for personal space.
"I stayed in New York," he answers, and although he doesn't shrug, it's almost as if the movement is audible in his voice. For a moment he stays quiet as if he's weighing out what to say, before finally continuing. "I tried out the police academy, but it didn't work out." It's said as if it doesn't matter, as if he hadn't gotten kicked out, and he wonders if Klaus can guess that part.
"That's where I met Patch, actually. We kept working together after, just...me not officially, I guess. I didn't stop going on missions, I just did it on my own."
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"You're too good for the police," he muses quietly, thoughtful. He can gather what happened, to some extent, but Diego doesn't offer and Klaus doesn't press. He nudges him with an elbow. "I can't fathom you in a uniform every day that isn't all masks and knives and spandex."
But to think of Diego, hitting the streets, helping solve problems, working alongside detectives and policemen? It's nice. Sure, he heard about Diego, ran into him a handful of times in that first handful of years on his own, but he never saw the bigger picture. "Good thing they have you. New York. She seemed like a nice lady. I see why you liked her."
Even in the short exchange he could see how dedicated the woman was to her work, how quickly she thought on her toes, how somehow, she had found him before his siblings. If only she'd known there were two of them, if only he'd been able to stomach the words and warn her, as beaten and fatigued as he'd been.
"I'm sorry you lost her," he says quietly, sobering, a hand dropping to give the man's knee a squeeze. "Sorry I couldn't help more. That I didn't." He huffs softly, shaking his head at the memory, closing his eyes against it for a moment longer. Somewhere across the room there's the echo of Ben's voice it's not your fault, Klaus, but for the first time in years, he ignores it.
"She saved my life, you know."
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Ultimately, he had gone his own route with it, and while it would drive Patch crazy, he knows that she understood him and that need better than a lot of people did. It's part of what irritated her, actually, but Diego couldn't stop. He doubts he'll ever be able to.
The ghost of a smile crosses his lips when Klaus says that it's good that the city has him, and there's a tinge of sadness in his expression when he brings up Patch. He hates this, the way his heart aches. The way he already misses her, how there's an urge he can't shake away at the fact that he wants to pick up the phone one more time and call her. He wants one more chance to apologize, to tell her she had been right. That he had been wrong. That he had fucked up, that he was so damn sorry.
That he loves her. God, how he wishes he could tell her that he loves her.
His gaze is lost in nothing in particular, when Klaus's words pull him out of his thoughts. His brow furrows into a small frown, but the way he pats the hand that's on his knee is reassuring. Almost gentle.
"It's not your fault, you didn't kill her." He stays quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again his voice is uncharacteristically low, almost soft for a moment. "All she wanted was to serve, and save people. She'd tell you the same thing." He lets the words linger between them for a moment, before he glances over at his brother. "I'm glad she was able to find you and get you out."
no subject
His eyes raise when the man pats his hand and he smiles faintly, sadly. "Yes, well, I'm sorry all the same. After all, if she put up with you in any capacity, she must have been an excellent woman."
Klaus almost offers, almost suggests they conjure her, because he might be able to. He's too afraid to reach into the ether, to feel out for the edges of her existence. Would it be worth it, pulling her back from the other side for a fleeting goodbye? What would it do for Diego? What would it do for her spirit in unrest?
But he bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes tangy copper and lets out a little huff. His free hand reaches to pat the hand over his own, giving it a soft squeeze before he pulls them back altogether, back into his own lap, cradling the coffee mug he sat aside.
"Talk about a family reunion, huh?" He tilts his head a little, blowing out a long sigh. "If I could have stopped it, I would have. I was afraid they'd find the rest of you. Just means that when we see them again, we owe them a real whopping, huh?"
Nothing will take the pain away, nothing will cure the hurt of the loss, nothing will really bring her back. Not yet. Not permanently. Klaus's eyes shift at movement in the corner of his eye, and whether Diego will be able to feel it or not, Ben's there, hand on his brother's shoulder.
Not yet, Klaus knows. Not yet. Even Ben gives a sad shake of his head, and Klaus almost feels guilty all over again. Isn't that always the story of their lives, as Hargreeves children? Not yet? Not enough?
"I'm sorry, man."
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It's not enough, though. Especially when Klaus says that he had been afraid Hazel and Chacha would find the rest of them, and his jaw clenches shut. The aggression that he sometimes clings to as a safer shield than anything else he could be feeling makes him wants to chew him out, just how he had done with Vanya that night. You could have been killed, he wants to shout to him as well, the reality of it making something in his stomach twist painfully, but he just scrubs a hand along his face before shaking his head.
"When we find them they'll regret ever coming near here." The 'I'm sorry' makes his skin crawl, makes him want to say how it's fine, it doesn't matter, but it's a lie. He can't regret Klaus being here, and he never would no matter how much he may miss Patch, but none of this is fine. Just thinking of the words sets a bitter taste in his mouth, so instead he focus on the fact that they will find those bastards and make them pay. It's the best thing he can cling to right now; it's at least one thing he can solve.
As he sets down the now empty mug on the ground, he sighs under his breath before he nudges Klaus's leg again. "You should get some sleep. I'll stay here and wake you up if needed."
no subject
But they will, somehow. Klaus knows for certain that he will do everything in his power to find a way to help, to make sure that Vanya isn't wrong again like she has been for so many years. It's what Allison would want, too.
"Sleep? Who needs that!" Klaus sighs softly, looking over at Allison again, glancing between her and the vitals monitor. Stable, but unconscious. "You're the one who should sleep Mr. Vigilante," he huffs, nudging the man's knee again with his own. But Diego's right, isn't he? Klaus can feel how heavy his body is, he'd seen the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror. Hell, he could have fallen asleep under the hot spray of the shower, standing up no less.
"An hour," he says finally, though it sounds like he's all but chewing it, practically pulling the admission out of himself by force. "Just wake me up in an hour. I can get by on next to nothing, but I swear I will shave that pretty head bald in your sleep if you let me go any longer, mister."
He stands from his spot and looks over Allison, reaching up to carefully tuck her hair away from her face. Gorgeous, even near death, the bitch. He'll have to fuss at her for that later. "You sure?" He says, glancing over at Diego next, really taking in the look of him now that he's not sitting shoulder to shoulder.
no subject
It’s said with a scoff, as if the mere idea of sleep is ridiculous when it comes to him. And, well, he’s used to not sleeping. Normally his ‘job’ is at night, so he’d be awake at this time, anyway; and despite the shitty last few days, it’s as if he’s buzzing with adrenaline and anger. Sitting still is already hard enough, there’s no way in hell he would be able to even try to sleep.
But Klaus needs sleep - he’s the one that went to Vietnam, after all. And, while Diego cares about Allison, this whole thing isn’t taking the same emotional toll that it’s taking on Klaus considering his relationship with their sister. Diego is ready to point out as much, and even point out that Allison is going to need him alert once she wakes up, because he doubts she’ll take the news of her voice being gone well, but thankfully it doesn’t get to that. Klaus is agreeing to sleep, and he nods slightly when he instructs him to wake him up in an hour.
“Got it. One hour.” It’s said with a straight face, as if he has every intention to listen to him, but...he’ll just wake him up later. It’s not like he has much hair to lose, anyway; Klaus can shave him bald for all he cares.
Stretching out his legs in front of him, he crosses his ankles and nods again. “Yep, definitely sure. Go before I knock you out myself so that you can sleep.”
no subject
The very idea of sleeping, though, triggers something in him already, limbs growing heavy, eyes even heavier. It feels like a betrayal, to sleep while Allison stays there, injured on the bed. How many hours did she stay up for him in the throes of withdrawal, when there was nothing she could do? It feels like a lifetime ago, all of it.
But the fact that Diego will stay and keep watch puts Klaus at ease. He knows that his brother will wake him when needed, even if Klaus himself is suspicious that Diego will let him sleep over an hour. He knows how family works, after all, particularly this one.
He drops his hand to Diego's shoulder, giving it a squeeze and a little shake. "Stubborn bastard," he murmurs. The cot doesn't look all that appealing, really, but being any farther from his sister is too much to worry about. So he pulls the cot down and the blanket Pogo left and lowers himself down onto it, curling up onto his side like he might have as a boy, his back to Diego.
"An hour," he sleepily reminds his brother with the huff of a laugh. He might wake himself up long before that, really, with the new stretch of nightmares and the voices in this eyes. "You keep watch," he says on a yawn, a hand waving idly, and while Diego might think it's directed at him? It's to Ben, who takes up the chair Klaus left. With that, Klaus begins to drift to sleep.