The world nearly ended, but they just narrowly managed to avoid it. Stopping Vanya at the theater had been one hell of a trick, but they did it. And Five managed to Jump them to somewhere-somewhen that Klaus hasn't quite paid enough attention to, to figure out the details of. Hard to care where or when they landed in an arbitrary timeline when he's spent the last handful of days in the throes of detox. It isn't a new sensation, he has been to sibling-or-court-ordered-rehab enough times that he knows it well when it starts. He also recognizes easily enough the point that it all breaks-- and he can trust little things like sitting up and moving in ways he couldn't for a day or so because of the dizzy spells and nausea.
He's feeling whatever marginal version of 'better' this happens to be a shade of at the moment and has an appetite, so he wanders down to the kitchen and stares at the contents of the fridge for a long moment, before deciding that just plain toast with a little butter on it may be the best plan for the moment. He moves around the kitchen as quietly as he can, and sits at the table with his toast.
He eats slowly, and alone, and he can't help but wonder how long that might even last. Everything that may have had any trace or chance left of numbing him was likely out of his system, and he can only imagine the dead will start clamoring for his attention any time now. But there's almost a solace to the empty kitchen, just for a moment, before there is a sweep of a rather desperate need to not be alone. Sure, he doesn't want ghosts screaming at him, but Klaus has never really done well with being alone. And he thinks he might know someone else that might understand that feeling more than anybody.
He abandons the kitchen and wanders through the halls, pausing outside of Vanya's room, hesitating for a long moment before he finally taps rhythmic fingers against her door. Quiet enough it might not wake her if she was sleeping, but loud enough to hear if she wasn't. Just in case, he adds a soft, "V... it's me. Can I come in?"
The world nearly ended. Had ended. Will end. The when and where may still be up in the air but what little that Vanya has been able to grasp since she woke up? The how is set. It's her and no one knows what to do about it. (No one has ever known what to do with Vanya and it's almost reassuring that some things never really change.) There have been arguments and debates and back and forths but Vanya has had none of it, everything too loud or too muffled or too everything all at once, so instead she does what she's always done. Stumbles upstairs to her room, closes the door, shuts the world out. She means to get to the bed but the floor rises up two steps in and the floor is just...simpler. Simpler to curl with her back to the bed and her head in her hands and the loudest kind of nothing in her ear.
She's awake but doesn't hear the knock, too soft with her bad ear turned to the door. The words, though, the words catch her by surprise, head jerking up as she strains to hear. Klaus. Or she thinks it's Klaus. She can't be sure, not now that she's—
A long minute later, she answers. "It's not locked." It's louder than she meant to be.
Would there be much point if it were? Diego would pick the lock, Luther could rip the door off its hinges, and Five never bothered with doors when he wanted in. And then... Then maybe she'd lose the small mercy of her room. Spatial physics and alternate timelines don't matter, not when there's still the vault downstairs, she knows it is, knows it and the rest of them are waiting for her to do something and then that's a lock that won't break. Not again. They wouldn't let it.
A voice whispers under the incessant ringing in her ear. They can try and stop it. Stop us. You know we're stronger now. Vanya whimpers quietly and shakes her head, hands clutching tighter until nails bite into her scalp.
Vanya's voice is... louder than Klaus is used to hearing it-- but that's been common, in these days since the Icarus and the narrow-miss of the Apocalypse. Having a gun fired directly next to her ear had damaged her hearing, but at least she was still here. They could try this all over again. Like a real family. Like they should have done the first time.
Klaus slips into the room, securing it shut again behind him, but when he turns to face her, the image of his sister in a heap on the floor, head in her hands, only manages to make a swell of concern bubble up in chest and threaten to bloom into something more like panic as he moves from the door to kneel on the floor next to her. "V? Hey, hey, talk to me." He puts a hand on her shoulder.
Klaus's fingers barely brush her shoulder and Vanya scrambles away, heels scuffing the floor to push her away. Her back hits the side table by the bed and it rattles, drawers and lamp and everything inside. Then the rattle is inside of her, echoing in her ear and reverberating through her bones and rippling out into the air around them. Fear tastes bitter on her tongue because she has to stop it, she can't let it happen again, but she doesn't know how.
A tuning fork sounds in the back of her mind, a barked out concentrate, Number Seven! and a softer breathe, Vanya and she flinches. She doesn't want those memories, not now or ever again, hates that they're there now and wishes she could just claw them out and throw them away.
Shit. Breathing. She exhales shaily, again and again until the rising wave inside her slowly subsides and the air quiets. Relief floods through her but— Klaus is still here and he's seen it all. "I- I was- I wasn't doing anything," she gasps out. "I'm not." Please don't tell them.
Even as she pulls away of her own accord, Klaus still jerks his hand back like he'd touched fire when she jerks away from him. He bites his lip as he watches her, shrinking, cowering, trying her hardest to disappear into nothing. Except the sounds in the room as she collides with the bedside table are everywhere, all over her. He can't see it in a literal way, but everything in her reactions, her body language, says it clearly enough. He still doesn't fully understand how her powers work, but it won't be easy for her to get a handle on considering sound and noise are everywhere.
"I didn't say you were- you're fine. It's okay..." He folds in on himself, sitting with both legs folded underneath him, elbows resting on his thighs, hands folded over his mouth as he watches her. He wants to help her, comfort her, but he doesn't know how else to do it besides touch. He's so tactile, always had been, but that isn't helping here right now. "I jus- I thought... you might want some company, y'know?" He'll just direct it to why he's here. He won't bring up anything that happened in the last twenty seconds, it isn't important right now.
When Vanya finally meets his eyes, her own are white and glowing in a corpse-pale face. Her hands slide down against her jaw as she blinks, trying to process what Klaus just said. Assuming she heard him right which— Doesn't seem likely.
"...Why?"
It would have been less of a surprise to hear Klaus speaking Ancient Greek than that he wanted to spend time with her. None of them ever have, not for as long as she can remember. The confusion cuts through the panic, at least, and the lonely fact of their family is something familiar to lean on as she watches Klaus, wary and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He's not a fan of this look on her, it's too attached to those moments in the theater and how epic-terrible everything went that night. But the confusion in her face, coating her one-worded question, isn't at all surprising, all things considered. Even if it stings a little all the same.
"Because you're my sister, and I'm trying to be better." The answer is so simple on the surface, but there is so much more sitting behind it, in support of it. Klaus was not generally a liar, nor was he the best one when he tried, only when it came to his habits and addictions did he manage to be good at it. So it's not hard to take the things he says on the surface as what he means.
Or at least, it wouldn't be, if they weren't so estranged. And if Vanya's last memories of any of her brothers weren't so negative.
He doesn't move, though, or seem like he might try anything sketchy. He just sits on the floor, and watches Vanya, curious more than he is cautionary. The truth is, despite everything at the Icarus? He isn't afraid of her. Not really.
The voice is back, heaping scorn and suspicion in her deafened ear. Of course that's what he says he's here for, and isn't the timing convenient? Thirty years of brush offs and being looked over and all of a sudden her brothers and sister think she's worth their time? Don't make us laugh.
But... Vanya knows that doesn't make sense. If Luther wanted someone to keep watch, had sent someone to stand guard, he wouldn't send Klaus. Diego or Five, maybe, the ones with power and experience enough to slow her down and call for help, but. Not Klaus. Besides, her brother's capable of lying like a pro when angling for his next fix or the money to get there, but for anything else? Not really. Vanya's seen enough of the junkie to recognize the genuine when it's in front of her now. Or she thinks she can. Maybe.
As her power fades away, her eyes dim but stay that cold blue surrounded by bruise-dark sockets. "Okay," she answers, still shaky but slowly uncurling. Metaphorically, at least. One arm stays looped around her knees tucked tight to her chest, her other hand still nervously tugging at her ear. "Okay."
...Of course now comes the possibly bigger issue. What are you supposed to do with company? Vanya sure as hell doesn't know.
Klaus was definitely not sent to keep an eye on Vanya. He legitimately just sucks really hard as sleeping and figured she'd be awake and company is kind of nice to have when you can't sleep. He knows from very personal experience. Not that he knows what to do with company of the sister kind, if he's honest. Most of the time, the company he was keeping, he was also sleeping with and that just doesn't seem like a good route to go with his sister.
"'Kay..." he echoes quietly, fingers twitching in his lap with a want-need to reach over and take her hand away from her ear, thread their fingers together, play with her hair, something involving touch because to Klaus that spells comfort, but everything feels like walking on glass around Vanya right now and one wrong press in a weak spot will mean everything is shattered again.
And honestly? He hates feeling that way. He has never really cared much either way what people did or said, how they could or couldn't handle him. He is who he is, take it or leave it, no harm, no foul. But it's always a little different when it's family, and it's all at an even more precarious edge among all of them right now. Klaus isn't a scalpel, he isn't the one you send on a tight-rope, he is not subtle or precise, so he is at a really huge loss of how to handle anything going on with all of his siblings right now.
"V, um..." He bites the inside of his cheek. "we're gonna get through this, you know? All of us. We're gonna figure it out and we're gonna be better this time." Somehow. He doesn't know how, and he's not convinced there won't be a thousand obstacles to curve around between now and whatever 'better' might look like. But he does sound like he actually believes in what he's saying. Or at the very least, he wants to.
[ Vanya understands the spirit of Klaus's wish even if she doesn't think it'd do much good coming true. Even when they were kids, it'd been anything but easy. It'd never been simple. The lines had been drawn before any of them really knew it and Dad had put them all on either side of the divide.
But the apology... That may be late, sure enough, but it's not little. Not at all.
(She does her best to ignore the voice inside, the one that icily wonders if anyone would be apologizing if they thought they were still dealing with plain old ordinary Vanya.)
She doesn't text back, which in hindsight— Maybe not the kindest thing to skip doing. But given her recent issues with balance, she needs both hands to steady her along from her room, down to the kitchen, and back up to Klaus's. This door isn't locked either and she pokes her head inside, a container of ice cream and a notepad tucked in the crook of her arm. ]
[For a second, when the door pushes open, Klaus looks shocked, but it's blink-and-its-gone, faded almost instantly into a fond smirk instead.]
I forgot about that one.
[He pushes himself back against the mound of pillows and tugs his legs up underneath him to give her space to sit on the bed.
Of anything that he might have expected after she just suddenly stopped responding-- which was definitely not at all anxiety inducing, why do you ask?-- this wasn't it. But it was a pleasant alternative.]
[ She sees it and for that split second she wonders if this was a mistake. If Klaus's talk of hanging out wasn't for here or now, but later when he had nothing better to do. But then the second is over and he... Well, he isn't shooing her away like the hundred times before. That has to count for something, doesn't it? ]
S'okay. We didn't really play it that often.
[ Whether that was because it was one of the longer games and most opted for quicker games of tic-tac-toe or whatever, or because Vanya never spoke up loud enough to pick the game... Who knows. Even odds, probably.
She carefully makes her way to the foot of the bed, just barely sitting on the edge to take up the least amount of space. The ice cream is pushed between them for Klaus to help himself. ]
Sorry, there was only vanilla downst- Hope it's all right.
We can now, though. [He points out, vaguely gesturing to the notepad she'd brought along with her. He leans over and tugs lightly at the sleeve of her shirt.] Get on the bed, V. One bad bounce and you're gonna be on your ass on the floor.
[He won't press her further than that, and snatches one of the pair of spoons to scoop a bite of ice cream onto before he settles back against the pillows again. He shakes his head, a small smile tugging up one corner of his mouth at her apology.] I didn't expect you to actually come back with peanut butter and xanax ice cream, you know.
[ Klaus plucks at her arm and Vanya's own tiny smile flashes to life at the admonishment. Neither of them are bouncing types — or at least not right now, with Klaus's current state — so her ass is probably safe but. Trying, right? Which is how she ends up carefully scooting back until she can sit up against the wall. She doesn't move up from the foot of the bed, though. Baby steps. ]
Maybe not, but. There's a lot better flavors than boring vanilla.
[ As the vanilla sibling, she can very much attest to this. Like— Klaus on the other hand. He's still Klaus. even reeling and recovering from detox, with enough personality to fill the room and any adjoining bathrooms. ]
[He smiles a little when she settles with her back against the wall. Maybe not close, but here, and close enough that Klaus feels like he can let that be a win.]
Please. Vanilla is a classic. [Masks are great and fun to wear, and being okay in the face of all the So very no okay feelings he has going on at any given time, which are only ramped up with a thousand at this point, is a vice he isn't ready to give up yet.]
[ Of course, the Hargreeves Family Tradition of ignoring how fucked things are until they blow up in your face. Given Vanya's recent explosion, they ought to have plenty of time before the next giant fuck-up thing ruins everything. A tired half-smile sets up shop on her face in answer to play along.
[He stretches one leg out to nudge hers with a toe, giving her a playfully chiding look, but it's hardly convincing with the way a smile threatens to tug one corner of his mouth up a tic.]
We gonna play? [He nods his head toward the notebook. It only seemed right, all things considered.]
He's not just hot. Hot I can handle. We're talking 'I want to ride that like one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse--with bourbon in hand and without mercy.'
sorry i don't understand that word fun can you use it in a sentence
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
{Now that it's morning and yesterday's gone, can we find a way to move on?
He's feeling whatever marginal version of 'better' this happens to be a shade of at the moment and has an appetite, so he wanders down to the kitchen and stares at the contents of the fridge for a long moment, before deciding that just plain toast with a little butter on it may be the best plan for the moment. He moves around the kitchen as quietly as he can, and sits at the table with his toast.
He eats slowly, and alone, and he can't help but wonder how long that might even last. Everything that may have had any trace or chance left of numbing him was likely out of his system, and he can only imagine the dead will start clamoring for his attention any time now. But there's almost a solace to the empty kitchen, just for a moment, before there is a sweep of a rather desperate need to not be alone. Sure, he doesn't want ghosts screaming at him, but Klaus has never really done well with being alone. And he thinks he might know someone else that might understand that feeling more than anybody.
He abandons the kitchen and wanders through the halls, pausing outside of Vanya's room, hesitating for a long moment before he finally taps rhythmic fingers against her door. Quiet enough it might not wake her if she was sleeping, but loud enough to hear if she wasn't. Just in case, he adds a soft, "V... it's me. Can I come in?"
no subject
She's awake but doesn't hear the knock, too soft with her bad ear turned to the door. The words, though, the words catch her by surprise, head jerking up as she strains to hear. Klaus. Or she thinks it's Klaus. She can't be sure, not now that she's—
A long minute later, she answers. "It's not locked." It's louder than she meant to be.
Would there be much point if it were? Diego would pick the lock, Luther could rip the door off its hinges, and Five never bothered with doors when he wanted in. And then... Then maybe she'd lose the small mercy of her room. Spatial physics and alternate timelines don't matter, not when there's still the vault downstairs, she knows it is, knows it and the rest of them are waiting for her to do something and then that's a lock that won't break. Not again. They wouldn't let it.
A voice whispers under the incessant ringing in her ear. They can try and stop it. Stop us. You know we're stronger now. Vanya whimpers quietly and shakes her head, hands clutching tighter until nails bite into her scalp.
no subject
Klaus slips into the room, securing it shut again behind him, but when he turns to face her, the image of his sister in a heap on the floor, head in her hands, only manages to make a swell of concern bubble up in chest and threaten to bloom into something more like panic as he moves from the door to kneel on the floor next to her. "V? Hey, hey, talk to me." He puts a hand on her shoulder.
no subject
A tuning fork sounds in the back of her mind, a barked out concentrate, Number Seven! and a softer breathe, Vanya and she flinches. She doesn't want those memories, not now or ever again, hates that they're there now and wishes she could just claw them out and throw them away.
Shit. Breathing. She exhales shaily, again and again until the rising wave inside her slowly subsides and the air quiets. Relief floods through her but— Klaus is still here and he's seen it all. "I- I was- I wasn't doing anything," she gasps out. "I'm not." Please don't tell them.
no subject
"I didn't say you were- you're fine. It's okay..." He folds in on himself, sitting with both legs folded underneath him, elbows resting on his thighs, hands folded over his mouth as he watches her. He wants to help her, comfort her, but he doesn't know how else to do it besides touch. He's so tactile, always had been, but that isn't helping here right now. "I jus- I thought... you might want some company, y'know?" He'll just direct it to why he's here. He won't bring up anything that happened in the last twenty seconds, it isn't important right now.
no subject
"...Why?"
It would have been less of a surprise to hear Klaus speaking Ancient Greek than that he wanted to spend time with her. None of them ever have, not for as long as she can remember. The confusion cuts through the panic, at least, and the lonely fact of their family is something familiar to lean on as she watches Klaus, wary and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
no subject
"Because you're my sister, and I'm trying to be better." The answer is so simple on the surface, but there is so much more sitting behind it, in support of it. Klaus was not generally a liar, nor was he the best one when he tried, only when it came to his habits and addictions did he manage to be good at it. So it's not hard to take the things he says on the surface as what he means.
Or at least, it wouldn't be, if they weren't so estranged.
And if Vanya's last memories of any of her brothers weren't so negative.
He doesn't move, though, or seem like he might try anything sketchy. He just sits on the floor, and watches Vanya, curious more than he is cautionary. The truth is, despite everything at the Icarus? He isn't afraid of her. Not really.
no subject
But... Vanya knows that doesn't make sense. If Luther wanted someone to keep watch, had sent someone to stand guard, he wouldn't send Klaus. Diego or Five, maybe, the ones with power and experience enough to slow her down and call for help, but. Not Klaus. Besides, her brother's capable of lying like a pro when angling for his next fix or the money to get there, but for anything else? Not really. Vanya's seen enough of the junkie to recognize the genuine when it's in front of her now. Or she thinks she can. Maybe.
As her power fades away, her eyes dim but stay that cold blue surrounded by bruise-dark sockets. "Okay," she answers, still shaky but slowly uncurling. Metaphorically, at least. One arm stays looped around her knees tucked tight to her chest, her other hand still nervously tugging at her ear. "Okay."
...Of course now comes the possibly bigger issue. What are you supposed to do with company? Vanya sure as hell doesn't know.
no subject
"'Kay..." he echoes quietly, fingers twitching in his lap with a want-need to reach over and take her hand away from her ear, thread their fingers together, play with her hair, something involving touch because to Klaus that spells comfort, but everything feels like walking on glass around Vanya right now and one wrong press in a weak spot will mean everything is shattered again.
And honestly? He hates feeling that way. He has never really cared much either way what people did or said, how they could or couldn't handle him. He is who he is, take it or leave it, no harm, no foul. But it's always a little different when it's family, and it's all at an even more precarious edge among all of them right now. Klaus isn't a scalpel, he isn't the one you send on a tight-rope, he is not subtle or precise, so he is at a really huge loss of how to handle anything going on with all of his siblings right now.
"V, um..." He bites the inside of his cheek. "we're gonna get through this, you know? All of us. We're gonna figure it out and we're gonna be better this time." Somehow. He doesn't know how, and he's not convinced there won't be a thousand obstacles to curve around between now and whatever 'better' might look like. But he does sound like he actually believes in what he's saying. Or at the very least, he wants to.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
[ Vanya understands the spirit of Klaus's wish even if she doesn't think it'd do much good coming true. Even when they were kids, it'd been anything but easy. It'd never been simple. The lines had been drawn before any of them really knew it and Dad had put them all on either side of the divide.
But the apology... That may be late, sure enough, but it's not little. Not at all.
(She does her best to ignore the voice inside, the one that icily wonders if anyone would be apologizing if they thought they were still dealing with plain old ordinary Vanya.)
She doesn't text back, which in hindsight— Maybe not the kindest thing to skip doing. But given her recent issues with balance, she needs both hands to steady her along from her room, down to the kitchen, and back up to Klaus's. This door isn't locked either and she pokes her head inside, a container of ice cream and a notepad tucked in the crook of her arm. ]
I liked the game with the boxes and dots.
no subject
I forgot about that one.
[He pushes himself back against the mound of pillows and tugs his legs up underneath him to give her space to sit on the bed.
Of anything that he might have expected after she just suddenly stopped responding-- which was definitely not at all anxiety inducing, why do you ask?-- this wasn't it. But it was a pleasant alternative.]
no subject
S'okay. We didn't really play it that often.
[ Whether that was because it was one of the longer games and most opted for quicker games of tic-tac-toe or whatever, or because Vanya never spoke up loud enough to pick the game... Who knows. Even odds, probably.
She carefully makes her way to the foot of the bed, just barely sitting on the edge to take up the least amount of space. The ice cream is pushed between them for Klaus to help himself. ]
Sorry, there was only vanilla downst- Hope it's all right.
no subject
[He won't press her further than that, and snatches one of the pair of spoons to scoop a bite of ice cream onto before he settles back against the pillows again. He shakes his head, a small smile tugging up one corner of his mouth at her apology.] I didn't expect you to actually come back with peanut butter and xanax ice cream, you know.
no subject
Maybe not, but. There's a lot better flavors than boring vanilla.
[ As the vanilla sibling, she can very much attest to this. Like— Klaus on the other hand. He's still Klaus. even reeling and recovering from detox, with enough personality to fill the room and any adjoining bathrooms. ]
no subject
Please. Vanilla is a classic. [Masks are great and fun to wear, and being okay in the face of all the So very no okay feelings he has going on at any given time, which are only ramped up with a thousand at this point, is a vice he isn't ready to give up yet.]
no subject
This can only go well. ]
Cliched, you mean.
no subject
We gonna play? [He nods his head toward the notebook. It only seemed right, all things considered.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
text from your fun friend
sorry i don't understand that word fun can you use it in a sentence
it's that thing you do when... when... shit.
So anyway, I'm sitting at the bar, planning my approach.
What are you doing?
You're at home, aren't you?
sounds fake
And...yes? Where else would I be?
no subject
You could be out with me, stalking the watering hole.
no subject
Me? No. No no no. I'm less a mighty hunter and more like. Those big rats they train to find land mines.
no subject
Vanya. You are not a big rat.
no subject
Have you seen them? They're very smart.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)