The comment about her week keeping vigil in his apartment almost undoes him in a way he hadn't expected, heals stinging wounds and patches up the sorrowful what-ifs he unearthed in her absence. "Bold of you think I won't be making you suffer the same fate, now that you're back. I still have a key to your apartment, thank you very much. And I won't be moving my ass from your couch for the next year if I have to."

He swipes at her tears as well, reaching a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheeks. His smile could split his face in two, lighting up his eyes, and does something to bring color back into his cheeks.

"Am I okay?" Klaus mutters, incredulous, eyes widening at the sheer audacity of her asking. "Are you okay? It's been two days here and besides a few search parties and sleepless nights, I'm just as peachy as when you left. Better, really, but don't tell the boys you're my favorite."

It's so easy to joke like this with her, to feel like a pressure has lifted from his shoulders, to feel like his lungs can move air again. He doesn't let go of her, arms fluttering from her shoulders to her forearms, before he all but tugs her into another hug. When he speaks again, his voice wavers.

"Which, by the way, you're not allowed to do that whole disappearing act again, I refuse. I have decreed it, so it be."