Work Text:
Klaus flinched awake around two in the morning. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and his heart was hammering. Beyond his window, a storm was raging, pelting rain against the glass. Snippets of his nightmare flashed in front of his eyes like the lighting outside. They weren't as vivid as some others he'd had, but they were enough to rattle him. He remembered a lot of blood…deafening gunfire…a tightness in his chest…and a pair of blue eyes, suspended in a chillingly blank stare.
Shivering, he burrowed into his covers and tried to relax. It didn't work. The painful memories were too fresh, and his muscles were tensed, like he was ready to spring into battle. So, he resorted to his usual nightmare routine: he dragged himself out of bed and to the bathroom.
The cold water he splashed on his face helped to wash away the gruesome images, but his pulse refused to slow down. As thunder grumbled outside, the bathroom light flickered. He stiffened as the beating of helicopter blades echoed in his ears. The sound grew louder and louder, until it was all he could hear except for his pounding heart. Then the smell of blood and gunpowder enveloped him, and he heard his own anguished voice. When he closed his eyes, he could see nothing but that empty blue-eyed gaze.
Klaus clenched his shaking fingers on the nearest sturdy object - the cold rim of the sink - and forced himself to breathe slowly. It's all in your head, insisted a soothing voice in the back of his mind. It's just a thunderstorm.
With great effort, he managed to pull himself back to the present. When he noticed his reflection, he grimaced. He looked awful, and it wasn't just from the water dripping down his face. Absentmindedly, he smoothed his messy curls and poked at the dark circles under his eyes. Then he sighed and frowned at himself, disappointed. His weary green eyes stared back, like, What do you want me to do about it?
Stop doing that, he scolded himself. Stop thinking about that - about him. It's been three years. Get over it.
Klaus glared at his reflection for a few seconds longer, like he was letting the demand sink in. Then, realizing how ridiculous it sounded, he chuckled darkly. He figured if those ultimatums worked for anyone, then there would be no more pain, heartbreak, addiction, insomnia, PTSD, or any other problems in the world. But, man, he had problems. He couldn't even remember a time when he didn't.
His grim smirk faded as he wiped his face with a towel. He took his time drying off - because the burning, scratchy feeling in his eyes warned him that there was more than water. At last, with a heavy sigh, he threw the towel aside and wandered back toward his bed, trying desperately to ignore the clattering of the rain.
I just need some sleep…
The sound of a muffled sob steered him off course to his bed. Concern overrode his exhaustion as he paused outside his sister's door. Whatever she was upset about, it sounded bad. He lingered for a few seconds, wondering if she would welcome a distraction - or if his presence would only make things worse. The sobbing continued.
Well...only one way to find out.
His three gentle knocks echoed down the quiet hall. A loud sniff and a moment of silence followed. Tentatively, he opened the door and peeked inside. Allison was sitting on the edge of her bed in a tank top and sweatpants, wiping her puffy eyes on a silky pastel-colored scarf, which Klaus could only assume she'd scavenged for lack of better options. She looked miserable.
"Hey," he began simply.
"Hey," she whispered back. She was wearing the same tired, defeated look he'd seen in the mirror a minute ago.
Klaus hesitated. He was closer with Allison than he was with some of his other siblings, but he wasn't sure if he was the best person to help her with something like this. Whenever he got as upset as she looked, he tended to bottle up his sadness and let it fester in sarcastic jokes and self-loathing. Then he would either try to sleep it off or distract himself with reckless behavior. But he didn't want to be a negative influence on his sister, and this didn't look like something that a glass of whiskey could solve. So, he figured he'd have to go against his nature and ditch the dark humor for genuine positivity...which was a daunting task when he was feeling pretty miserable himself.
"Want some company?" He offered, half-hoping she would refuse or ask him to get someone else.
Allison considered him with watery eyes. Then, sniffling, she nodded and patted the bed next to her.
A bit awkwardly, Klaus slipped into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat in the spot she'd indicated. His sister breathed out and closed her eyes like she was trying to compose herself.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
A muscle in her jaw jumped as more tears leaked out. She shook her head.
Klaus instinctively put his arm around her, and Allison leaned her head on his shoulder. She was stiff and a little twitchy, like she was struggling to keep from sobbing again. They sat like that for a few minutes, silent other than the occasional sniffle from her or soothing murmur from him. Finally, she choked out, "I had a dream about Claire."
Klaus's heart fell a little, though he'd been expecting that. When they'd arrived in this timeline, Allison had flown out to California in a rush, only to find that her ex-husband didn't recognize her - and her daughter had never been born. Klaus had never seen his sister's fierce eyes look so disturbingly desolate as when she'd returned and told everyone the news.
"I dream about her every night," she went on through her tears. "It's always the s-same thing. I see her, and she's so close that I can a-almost reach her...but as soon as I t-try, something g-gets in the way. Sometimes it's Five, telling me it h-had to h-happen and it's f-for the b-best. Sometimes it's Luther, h-holding me back, like he's t-trying to p-protect m-me. Sometimes it's police officers or b-buildings collapsing. Every time, I break th-through, but when I f-finally g-get to h-her..." Inhaling shakily, she closed her eyes and curled her fingers into fists.
"She's gone," Klaus finished knowingly.
A small sob escaped Allison's iron grasp, and Klaus's heart hurt for her. He didn't feel so awkward or clueless anymore - because he understood something about what his sister was going through. That devastating feeling of loss, the frustration and helplessness of not being able to reach a loved one, the dull ache of being away from them for so long - he knew it all too well. He turned so he could give her a proper hug, and she nestled her teary eyes in the crook of his neck.
"It's okay," he whispered into her hair. "We're gonna be okay."
Evidently, those six words held enough power to crumble her defenses, because her tears came tumbling out in full force. Klaus wasn't sure what else to do, so he just closed his eyes and hugged her tighter. Her hair smelled like honey and cinnamon, and her hands were warm on his back. Without thinking, he started swaying ever so slightly, like he was trying to rock the sadness out of her. She didn't protest.
After a few minutes of that, Allison went silent again, and she was no longer shaking with the effort of holding back tears. She'd apparently run out of energy to cry. Klaus wasn't sure if that was better or worse. At some point, she hiccupped and pulled away from him. "Sorry," she mumbled in a thick voice as she wiped her face on the scarf again. "I got your shoulder all wet."
It just then occurred to Klaus that he wasn't wearing a shirt - normal sleep attire for him. Allison was right: his shoulder felt damp and chilly now. But he figured a shirt wouldn't have made much difference, with how much she'd cried.
"It's fine. Salt's good for the complexion."
His sister didn't even smirk. She reclined in her bed, closed her puffy eyes, and let out a long exhale. Klaus remained seated, watching her with worry knitting his brows. Despite how tired she looked, he knew she wasn't anywhere close to falling asleep.
"I miss her so much," Allison whispered without opening her eyes. A single tear slid down her face. "If I'd known it would turn out like this, I would've stayed in the '60s. At least I would've still had Ray." She rubbed her face with her hands. "God, I miss him too. I feel like I left him behind for nothing."
Klaus's stomach squirmed as similar thoughts swam through his brain for the thousandth time: God, I miss him. If I'd known it would turn out like that, I would never have stayed. I feel like I fought in a war for nothing.
"Do you wish you'd never met him?" He wondered aloud, swallowing the bitter taste in his mouth.
His sister opened her eyes to frown at the ceiling. "No. Not even a little. Meeting him was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I don't know how I would've survived without him. When I landed in that timeline, I was so alone and scared. I had nobody." Another tear slipped out, and she wiped it away. "Ray was my rock. He came into my life when I needed him the most, and he gave me a reason to hold on - to keep fighting. I don't regret being with him. I can't." She sighed again. "I just wish it didn't hurt so much. It's like I can't breathe whenever I think about him..."
Allison's voice trailed off when she noticed Klaus's face. He swallowed again and looked away, clasping his hands in his lap to keep them from trembling.
"Are you okay?"
Klaus took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. Fine." When Allison kept watching him, he mumbled, "I know what you mean."
His sister was too sharp to let him off easy. She sat up to get a closer look at him. "Back in Dallas, you mentioned a soldier," she inferred gently. "You never told me much about him."
Klaus had barely told anyone any details about his time in the war, besides Ben, who had been around him often enough to witness the toll it had taken on him. But when he saw Allison - hurting, vulnerable, and clearly worried about him - he decided to let his guard down. He fixed his eyes on an imperfection in the wall and started talking.
"His name was Dave. He's that same one from that diner incident I told you about in '63...only that happened five years before we really met - you know, the first time around. We fought together in Vietnam."
"Vietnam?" Allison breathed, dumbfounded.
"You remember Hazel and Cha-Cha, right?"
"Yeah...?"
"Well, I stole their briefcase and got stuck there."
"For how long?"
"About ten months."
Allison stared in shock. "Holy shit, Klaus. I had no idea." When he just shrugged, she asked tentatively, "What was it like?"
Klaus drew a steadying breath. "Every day was a gamble for your life...and some days you weren't sure if you wanted to win or lose. But Dave - he made it all worth it. I know that sounds crazy. But I thought that, you know, maybe if I just stuck it out...maybe we could make it back to the States and end up together." Klaus's wistful expression twisted as he pictured those unseeing eyes again. Wrestling his grimace into a dry smirk, he finished loosely, "But, uh, I had to come back and help you guys, so...yeah."
His sister's knowing eyes drifted to the dog tags around his neck - which he never took off, even to sleep. She shook her head again. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm really sorry."
Klaus froze as Allison squeezed his shaking fingers. The kind gesture almost broke him. Pushing through the grief, he paraphrased something Dave had told him after two of their friends had been killed: "Don't be. This stuff sucks for a reason. Sometimes life sends good people to you and then takes them away. And it hurts like hell, but that pain only means that they mattered. The best thing you can do is remember them - and eventually, you tell life to screw off, and you get stronger."
Allison frowned like she was mulling over his words. Then she smiled halfheartedly and asked, "When did you grow up so much?"
"Puberty," Klaus joked, stretching his long legs and wiggling his toes. But the images from his nightmare were starting to come back, and no amount of cheesy jokes could make his vision less blurry. His next blink sent tears down his face. No, dammit! Positivity! You're supposed to be making her feel better, not worse!
Allison didn't seem fazed, though. Without a word, she passed him the scarf. He chuckled sheepishly and found a clean spot to wipe his face. "Sorry."
"Don't be," Allison echoed firmly. Klaus was amazed to see that some of the fight had returned to her eyes. He wondered if he'd distracted her from her sadness with his own. Unfortunately, he'd run out of will to talk about Dave - and he wasn't sure if he could go on without becoming as much of an emotional mess as Allison had been a moment ago. He didn't think it would be fair to turn the tables on his sister after she'd just finished sobbing into his shoulder.
Before he knew what he was doing, he was jumping to his feet and meandering away from Allison. "This was great, but I should really get some sleep. I'm beat, and you've had a long night. I don't want to-"
"Klaus, wait."
Halfway to the door, Klaus stopped and turned. Allison was giving him her best puppy dog eyes. It reminded him of the look she would use on their dad when they were kids, except this time he knew it was genuine - and not a precursor to a rumor. Even without magic, that face tugged on his heartstrings.
"Could you stay a little longer?"
Klaus winced. Her request reminded him of a different kind of pleading look in a pair of blue eyes, accompanied by a low, hopeful voice: "Will you stay?" That was the night when his relationship with Dave had taken on a new meaning. Now, the memory made him feel sick.
"We wouldn't have to talk anymore," Allison promised. "I just don't want to be alone right now. Please?"
Klaus held back a sigh. He'd been planning on going back to his room to curl up in his covers and wallow in his misery, away from prying eyes, until he eventually fell asleep at some ungodly hour - so, pretty much the opposite of what Allison was suggesting. But as the floor shook from another boom of thunder, he reconsidered. Judging by the flashbacks he'd experienced in the bathroom, he figured it wasn't a good idea for him to be alone right now either. His sister was offering him a better option - a healthier way to deal with his pain.
In any case, he couldn't bring himself to say no when she still looked so sad.
"Alright, sure. Why not...?"
With no hesitation or shame, he reclined on her bed and made himself comfortable, planning on spending the night. Still sitting on the other side, Allison furrowed her eyebrows at him. She almost seemed amused. Klaus blinked at her.
"What? Is this not what you meant?"
Now he was sure that she was smiling - for the first time since he'd found her crying. A surge of pride encouraged him to keep it going. If nothing else, lifting her spirits would distract him from his own glum mood.
"Did you think I was going to sleep on the floor? I'm not a dog, Allison."
His sister shook her head and lied down next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Screw it," she mumbled.
Klaus feigned offense. "Excuse you! I have a name."
That got a snort out of her. "You're ridiculous."
As some of the worry lines on her face disappeared, Klaus felt himself starting to smirk. "You're not going to tell Luther we shared a bed, are you?"
Allison shot a glare at him. "Make one more inappropriate joke, and you are going on the floor."
"That one's not a joke! You know he would murder me if he saw us like this - if the jealousy doesn't kill him first." Klaus smiled as Allison shoved him. By the lack of force, he could tell that she wasn't really mad.
"Nobody would jump to that conclusion," she scolded him in a disgruntled way.
"You think Luther wouldn't be even a little suspicious?" Klaus teased.
Allison let out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, maybe Luther would think that - but he shouldn't. I mean, it's you."
Klaus abruptly remembered that he'd never come out to his siblings. He decided to use that to his advantage. He put on a pout and asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"
As Allison hesitated, Klaus fought to keep from smirking. It seemed like his sister was debating whether or not to bring up all the activities they used to do together as kids - like painting each other's nails, sneaking out to go clothes shopping, or walking around in Grace's heels. "Nothing," she said at last, a bit too airily. "Just that Luther should know that you don't see me like that."
"Who says I don't?" Klaus argued, purely for fun.
Allison quirked an eyebrow at him. Then she deadpanned, "You're full of shit."
"Why shouldn't I be into you?" Klaus reasoned. "You're pretty great."
Allison narrowed her eyes even more. "Alright. Name three things you like about me."
Klaus hadn't expected a pop quiz. He tried to imagine what he would say if he was straight. "Uhh...tits, ass, fashion sense?"
He was pleasantly surprised when Allison snickered instead of smacking him. "You are so full of shit!"
"Alright, fine," Klaus confessed. "Tits are overrated. Oh, and there's also the fact that you're my sister! If anything, I should be concerned about you, since you seem to have a thing for your- mmph!" Allison had clamped her hand over his mouth - so, of course, he licked it. She yelped and pulled away, and Klaus grinned at her impishly. "Still think I'm all grown up?"
"Did I say that?" Allison marveled, her dark eyes gleaming. "I take it back."
"Good."
As Allison continued to smile at him, Klaus really did feel like a kid again. Then he remembered that there was a time where he didn't have any problems...or at least when they didn't seem so bad.
Then Allison's smile faded, and she leaned her head against his arm and exhaled another sigh - but she didn't seem as depressed as before. "Thank you," she said softly. "I needed this."
"Me too," Klaus admitted quietly.
A few minutes later, by some miracle, Allison had fallen asleep. Her steady breathing seemed to drown out the thunder outside, and the drumming of the rain seemed more relaxing than frightening. Before he knew it, Klaus was drifting off too, slipping into peaceful dreams of simpler times.