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[Welp. Cue the record scratch.]

Steve? [Good job Klaus. Now Cami has an entirely different reason to be unhappy! Excellent distraction technique.] Why on earth does he want you to compel Steve?

Well I believe Steve [ he even used the captain's given name this time ] would like me to compel him, or at least he agreed to it. [ as long as the distraction works, klaus has no regrets. anyhow, it was a matter of time. ]

[Nope, still not making sense.]

You're telling me that Steve Rogers wants to be compelled. [Especially given what had happened to Bucky, Cami would've thought he'd be one of the ones most adamant against mind control.

Unless, like Fitz, Steve doesn't realize that's what this is.]

Klaus, what is this all about?

Memories. He wants to remember what he's forgotten. [ he doesn't mention leo is truly the one who instigated this entire plan, but neither is what he says a lie: steve rogers said yes.

klaus is doing this for leo; it's the reason he pauses and admits, ] I saw no reason not to acquiesce to his request.

Edited 2017-01-25 23:52 (UTC)

[He doesn't need to mention Fitz; what he's said falls right in line with the rambling Cami had heard not a half hour earlier. She knows Steve had been there during an event inspired by his world; there's something he's forgotten, and they're going to try and get it back.]

Especially since it didn't come from him, right? [But regardless, if Steve has agreed, knowingly, then Cami can't really say anything. Part of her may even be hopeful that against all odds, this somehow works.]

[ klaus pulls in a short breath he holds because she's hit the nail on the head; there is no surprise in him she would. ] No, it did not. [ how can he explain: leo's earnest and impossible desire to only serve good? to make a world free of treachery and pain?

he supposes out of anyone camille would understand, but it is not the worry or thought that lingers on his mind at present. after all, they are back to the original topic. ]

[Indeed they are. Steve's agreed to the experiment, but given Fitz's misconception about the full capability of compulsion? It's just as likely the man doesn't know exactly what he's getting into.]

Fitz said he wanted a full understanding before he began practical testing. [Steve.] He also seems to be under the impression that you're shy and reserved about your powers.

[He can see how Cami figured out Fitz had been compelled here.]

What did you tell him, Klaus? What did you compel him to believe?

[ of course the scientist in his friend couldn't proceed without the necessary accoutrements of his trade: research. it's a conclusion klaus has quietly come to during the length of this conversation, for of course leo would go to the one woman klaus trusts above all else, besides his family, for a varied account. cami's words only confirm it; what rouses klaus is the truth she herself has come to.

agitated and firm both, he answers, ] I didn't compel him to believe anything. [ not true, but not untrue: he never claimed to be shy nor reserved about his powers; on the contrary. ] I told him what I was.

[ a monster. he gave fitz quarter and safety from his own: the mirrors and saviors that did not save him. he gave fitz quarter from the monster he is.

shame crawls up his throat. (he did the same for her.)

he cannot swallow it down, no matter how much he has tried these months.

he knows what she knows; that was not the full truth. he bars apology from his voice. ]

I couldn't let him be afraid of me. [ to hate him. to not continue his work. ]

[With his supernatural hearing, Klaus likely picks up on the sound of a door opening and closing. Cami's in her office now, where she drops down on one of the chairs even as Klaus confesses what he's done. It draws a sigh from her lips, because of course she remembers.

Klaus had told her of the greater world in which they lived, then stolen her fears. Next came her memories, and then--]

That should be his choice to make. You know that. [For better or for worse. Fitz deserves the right to make up his own mind about who Klaus is.

As much as she suspects Klaus might dread what he could choose.]

You care about him, don't you?

[ he does know that. klaus also knows that he had a choice and he knows what he chose: to violate his friend's mind and whatever semblance of misplaced trust he had. the better for him, is what klaus thinks; is what he would think, if he could believe it.

(he must.

or he doesn't, because he did it for his daughter.

and himself.

but it is camille saying these words and they reach too deep. they stir and pull out a raw and vulnerable truth. he does care.)

klaus turns to his own couch but instead walks with sudden purpose towards his drink cart.

there's a reason he stays where he is. there's more he's not saying. there's more he does not want to say, facing her. he never said he wasn't a coward. ] Of course I care; he's no mean friend. [ mean ally is what he means. perhaps not entirely. a pause, and the clinks of ice in a glass. ] He's my friend.

Edited 2017-01-26 03:46 (UTC)

Then isn't that all the more reason to respect his choice?

[For most people, it would be. It is for Klaus on some level too, because Cami knows how protective he is of those he chooses to hold dear. He wouldn't abide anyone else manipulating Fitz in such a way, period.

But that same connection is itself reason enough for the paranoia that so often wraps itself around Klaus' heart. Hearing the ice clink inspires the temptation in Cami to get a drink of her own, but she doesn't. Not for the moment.]

But you're afraid of what that choice will be. The possibility exists that Fitz won't be able to see past the worst parts of you and choose to stay your friend.

[The New Year's Eve conflict with Lucifer no doubt has only made that worse as well. Thankfully, from every indication Fitz is at least human, and in turn incapable of doing similar damage.

Physically.]

It's not really a friendship if it's based on manipulation, Klaus. Relationships, real ones, are forged from trust in each other.

[ his hand tightens around his phone; he nearly entertains the impulse to pull it away from his ear, to hang up, to break it, if only to escape the words he does not want to hear. the truth he does not want to acknowledge, for in acknowledging it he is acknowledging the consequence of his actions.

what he's done. what he's wrought. he pushes the cart into the wall it stands beside instead. the violence causes the crystal to clink and the alcohol to slosh, but nothing breaks, nothing spills.

she is right. he knows better. he knows plenty, his words clipped, fermented in incitement. ] There is no trust where there is manipulation, and I took away that when I took away his fear.

[ they can't be friends. they are not friends. ] We're not friends, Camille. He has simply been... [ he cannot seem to keep the waver from his voice, pretending so poorly his indifference. there was a time when he was better at it. ] a means to an end.

[She winces at the sudden sound of glasses and bottles striking against each other, although it doesn't sound like too much of a disaster. Just loud enough for her to hear over the phone--

Yet not so sharp that it covers the depth of connection Klaus tries to hide.]

So was I. [A means to an end, a stenographer, a spy--and all the other things Klaus couldn't deny anymore than he can now. And yes, Cami had been livid when she learned the truth, enduring a night of unspeakable agony just so she could remember. But time has given her the chance to forgive him for that, and the ability to understand.

The opportunity to see Klaus grow.]

Don't do this. Not when you've come so far. [He's grown, taken risks, become so much better than he had been then. It's painful to see him pull back within his walls.] You're afraid he won't be able to forgive you, but you know that doesn't give you the right to make the choice for him.

You're better than this.

[ so was she. the reminder has his lashes fluttering; his throat closing. yes, she was a means to an end. she played her role just as he played his, and in every way that soon came to matter more, she didn't and wasn't.

she's wasn't, and she was. just as fitz was and never was. the anguish in him builds into weights that press down with guilt and remorse on his chest. he reaches for his glass as her pleas break and slip past the walls that have already been damaged; have for so long stood on a failing foundation. perhaps they lost their integrity long ago.

if they truly had that fortitude in the first place. she's right, but perhaps he's not better than this. tears hang in his eyes; klaus swallows thickly and speaks softly, gravely, for despite all the rawness of his emotion, he must weather what the reality of this is: ] And when he doesn't? [ because fitz very well might not forgive him. he might not understand, when he has not forgiven and understood the faults of so many. ] When my own cowardice and scheming costs me... [ he fights past the lump in his throat, the crescendo and climax of what he is reaching to— ] true friendship and the chance to... [ klaus stops, for he knows this will hurt her more than anything. it's not hope he wants to give. ] A chance to go home. All of us, to go home. When he doesn't forgive me, what then? Do I forsake my daughter to a passing friendship? Do I forsake you?

Edited 2017-01-26 16:38 (UTC)

[He speaks with certainty about Fitz’s condemnation, and Cami cannot counter with anything more than possibility. She knows that not everyone would be able to forgive Klaus his deeds; some of his past actions indeed stand so sharp and so deadly, they cannot be forgiven at all. The likelihood that Fitz won’t be able to see past the manipulation of his thoughts and feelings is high, not only on principle but because Klaus knows Fitz so much better than she does.

The question is, where does the line fall between his paranoia and his perception of the other man?

All questions she means to ask, but that fall forgotten as he confesses a deeper truth. It has Cami leaning forward, her lips parted in unwanted surprise with the admission of the greater end Klaus has in mind. She’s known that he’s wanted to go home, but not that he’s been actively working towards it—not that he’s had Fitz doing as much, and not just for those members of Klaus’ family who live.

All of us. He means to defy death itself—her death—and she knows instantly that it is something she cannot let herself hope for.]

No. You don’t forsake anyone. [She swallows, closes her eyes to focus on the present as she so often does. She would not be distracted a second time.] Including him. You go about this the right way, and you remember you’re not alone.

[The words he spoke to her, softly, sweetly, when she’d been unable to hold back her tears and her heartache. Even if his goals are too lofty to be possible, Cami can at least have some faith. She grins to herself as she continues on; not so long ago, she never would have seen herself saying these words to him.] Case in point: you’ve got me. For better or worse, I’m kind of an expert in both talking to people and moving past being compelled by someone.

[By Klaus, in the name of his cowardice and scheming both.]

So choose to trust him, Klaus—and trust me.

[ he doesn't have to hear the waver in her voice, the pauses in her words and the silence before them, the swallow of her hopes and fears to know them. it's a strain to his heart, attached so inextricably to her: what he has confessed has anguished her in ways both terrible and beautiful. it anguishes him but before and mingled with that anguish is the roar of his agony:

he does not want to do this. not for her pains and hopes, not for the selfish desire he holds for a friendship, not for the ease in which he can guard himself from the abhorrent and baleful stares he has always expected and incurred and weathered and feared.

he is not afraid of being alone, not solely, not most importantly. (he has always been alone; it is not a new nor impossible terror.)

he is afraid for his daughter, his little girl, all else that is good and right in his world—he is afraid of leaving her alone. he is afraid of failing her as he has failed not only marcel but all others who have counted on him, who have looked to him, who he should have loved better; done better for.

(he is a broken, lacking thing. his love has always been incomplete.)

he does not want to do this for his daughter. the tears welling in his eyes blur his vision and his jaw tightens against their falling. (he is not alone. he does have her. he knows, just as she knows, what he should do. what he has to do. to be worthy of his daughter and for his daughter both.) he shakes, the phone trembling in his hand with how hard he clutches it. his voice is full and heavy; he promises. ] I'm not leaving you. [ not here, in this world. not now: this conversation is not over. but: ] I have to handle this on my own. [ he pulls the phone from his ear and hangs up. ]

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