[ klaus is accustomed to anger. he knows it like an old friend; like an old poison that's taken deep roots inside of him, burning and becoming a part in his veins. he speaks it in violence and terrors and deals it in spades. his anger is unending, but it is not quiet. it is not in the silent horror in his friend's eyes, as gentle and unsteady as the touch of his fingertips as he pulled away.

(lucifer punished him with blows. he made what treachery and betrayal there was between them hurt; he made it a reminder.

leo's silence chokes him.)

there are no words to say but in the reticence of them, klaus knows he owes more. he swallows and shifts, the round and terrified vulnerability of his eyes dropping to the floor. ] I have a daughter, [ he starts, and there are tears welling in his eyes, his empty hands wringing. there's a fierceness, thick and pleading in his voice. ] A child no older than two who has inherited my enemies and with them the consequences of my sins. [ he wants fitz to understand. he needs him to, but he knows just how undeserved that is. ] In my desperation to return, to protect her... [ his lashes flutter and he seeks leo's gaze, his own open with this truth: ] to hold you as a friend... I violated your trust, and for that I am sorry.