Allison nearly drops the communicator still in her hand when it beeps.
She'd forgotten it was in her hand altogether when Klaus went from quietly talking to hysterically laughing to suddenly sobbing. Even as her face crinkled up in concern, she made a note to check with the nurses about all the withdrawal reactions he'd been going through, and the ones they could expect while he was here and unable to get his next fix. Also, maybe to ask how well their stock was watched here, too.
It's a horrific thought to wonder if there was anything left in his system. If his stomach had been pumped. What exactly he'd taken. Why. Why so much. Things that had drilled themselves in circles in the waiting room, while there was nothing but bright floors and even brighter lights and low-grade constant fear. But watching him go through mood swings that drastically fast, while Luther patted his arm, brought it back.
Allison was in the doorway. The same as she'd been since coming in behind the other two. She'd been looking at her communicator before that all had happened, and so when it rings, at first Allison startles, almost dropping it while pulling it up. Thinking for one swift moment that Ben is finally calling her back. Except in that same swept up second, she can see there's nothing on her communicator. And still, the sound comes again, another loud ring, making Allison look to the confused faces of her siblings.
Diego gets there first, and Allison's gaze swings in the direction he's yelling, catching it all in fast clipped seconds. Ben, standing in the far corner of the room. Ben, with his eyes all red and puffy (so much like she remembered when he was so small). Ben, with his communicator in his hand. Ben, who would not have had a way to get into the room through her since they got let in here, which meant --
"You've been here the whole time?"
Before them? During the hours spent trying to reach him in the waiting room? When she'd started worrying if something terrible had happened to him, too?
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She'd forgotten it was in her hand altogether when Klaus went from quietly talking to hysterically laughing to suddenly sobbing. Even as her face crinkled up in concern, she made a note to check with the nurses about all the withdrawal reactions he'd been going through, and the ones they could expect while he was here and unable to get his next fix. Also, maybe to ask how well their stock was watched here, too.
It's a horrific thought to wonder if there was anything left in his system. If his stomach had been pumped. What exactly he'd taken. Why. Why so much. Things that had drilled themselves in circles in the waiting room, while there was nothing but bright floors and even brighter lights and low-grade constant fear. But watching him go through mood swings that drastically fast, while Luther patted his arm, brought it back.
Allison was in the doorway. The same as she'd been since coming in behind the other two. She'd been looking at her communicator before that all had happened, and so when it rings, at first Allison startles, almost dropping it while pulling it up. Thinking for one swift moment that Ben is finally calling her back. Except in that same swept up second, she can see there's nothing on her communicator. And still, the sound comes again, another loud ring, making Allison look to the confused faces of her siblings.
Diego gets there first, and Allison's gaze swings in the direction he's yelling, catching it all in fast clipped seconds. Ben, standing in the far corner of the room. Ben, with his eyes all red and puffy (so much like she remembered when he was so small). Ben, with his communicator in his hand. Ben, who would not have had a way to get into the room through her since they got let in here, which meant --
"You've been here the whole time?"
Before them? During the hours spent trying to reach him in the waiting room?
When she'd started worrying if something terrible had happened to him, too?