Clara & Klaus - The Untold Story: Methodology

Time sure passed quickly these days, Kenneth Harrington reflected as he stepped out of he shop in Greenwitch, his arms loaded with bags and a few parcels flying behind his head of their own accord. This would be Azalea's first proper Thanksgiving with them and Kit was determined to make it perfect. This time last year, she had still been learning to express herself but now she could fully react to things. In just over a year, his daughter had made enough progress to stun everyone and make him the proudest dad on the planet. Anyone who had ever doubted the photographer adopting little Azalea could suck it now. Not only was he killing it at this parenting thing but Azalea was truly happy.

Proof of how well his daughter was doing was splashed all over Harrington House in Carmel. Refrigerators covered with her drawings and stars received at school, the small garden she had started growing after Clara had discovered her sneaking orange seeds to her bedroom, ballet recitals where she outshone most of her peers even outside her family's biased opinion. Azalea, much like her father, had no trouble making friends and as more days passed by, Kit found less and less to worry about.

Of course, his lack of worry wasn't shared by the rest of the kiddo's parenting team. Only a few scant months ago, Klaus had approached him with a very serious concern that had turned out to be nothing. The man had needed a legitimate job to stay in the country so Kit had done one better, he had registered a company with three joint directors, naming Klaus as one of them. The appointment had come with a case fast tracked for permanent residency, vanishing all the worries the English wizard held in a matter of days.

Clara too worried, though her worries were even more baseless. She feared for Azalea but one look at the child was enough to show there was nothing to worry about. Long gone was the silent girl with the haunted gaze he'd found on an empty bench in Alabama. In her place now existed a bright, happy child for which Kit did not mind taking responsibility in the least. The little girl had truly turned their misfit group into a family, and there was nothing to do but celebrate.

Struggling with his packages, the man entered the Angel Pub, stopping to get a drink because he deserved a pumpkin spiced something at this point. Thanksgiving decoration was everywhere and Kit was pleased to note non of it was as good as the one in his bags and parcels. Sure, he could have shopped from closer to home but a view of the mountains from Salem was priceless in the fall. Maybe he would go up there and take a few pictures just to add to his Autumn Wind Volume?

He had plenty of time before he needed to go home. Klaus and Clara would be picking the kid up from school or ballet lesson or Junior Gardeners and bringing her home in the afternoon. Then the little group would set about decorating and cooking for the next two days. Over the weekend, Kit had planned a little surprise. The whole family would be travelling further north for a little skiing vacation. It would be good for them to get out of the California sun for a bit and Azalea would see snow for the first time.  

Making op his mind, the man approached the counter, giving the plain faced witch behind it a twinkling grin. A few minutes later the establishment had agreed to store his stuff and make his pumpkin spiced rum to go with Kit heading out the door towards the mountain caves. The wind out here was chilly but that was part of the experience. This was the adventure he lived for, man against nature, armed with only a camera and a few interchangeable lenses to capture everything he could.

The sun was sinking by the time he returned to the little village, proud of what he'd accomplished. It was time to go home and show his hard day's labor to the folks waiting in Carmel. It took another twenty minutes to collect his stuff from the pub, tip the waitress who definitely looked less plain in the dimming light and apperate back home only to blink profusely because of course the sun had not set in this part of the country yet.

Still, the proud, self congratulatory smile could not be wiped off his face as he climbed up the stone steps leading into the estate's ample garden. Kit could hear music coming from the kitchen which meant that was where the party was. Surprisingly, Clara and Klaus had very similar tastes these days, probably a result of having been forced to cohabit for over a year. As the light notes of Hold Your Hand reached him in the warm breeze, the man called out jovially.

"Hi everyone, Dad's home! And he brought the shinies!"

Struggling with his bags, Kit found the key, knowing no one would let him in if they were all in the kitchen. And true enough a moment later, Clara's voice drowned out the Beatles'. " Come on out back, and tell the kiddo to be careful with her boots, she's still growing into them."

"Very funny," the photographer muttered, finally letting himself in and depositing everything in the hallway. It would get picked up later, by someone. If Azalea didn't get to it first and tear it apart. Secretly, Kit was hoping she would. The kid needed to act her age now and then.

"Tell her yourself," the wizard replied, announcing his entrance into the kitchen where Klaus was pouring over something that smelled way too good on the stove while Clara fiddled with the calendar that now ran their lives.

"I would," Clara replied absently, moving post it notes on the neat white blocks of the schedule. "Where were you guys anyway, we were expecting you home like three hours ago?"

"I was in M-" Kit began, his eyes falling to the calendar and taking in today's date. Azalea's ballet lesson and pick up....

It was Klaus who caught on first.

"Where's Azalea?" the man asked quietly, his focus now shifted to Kit instead of whatever was bubbling on the stove.

"I... I thought you guys were going to pick her up..."

One look at Clara was enough to show something dark and livid creeping over her features. But worse than that, Kit saw the fear that prefaced it all. The fear she constantly carried with her and that he did his best to assure her was unfounded.

And worse still, in her time of panic, his bast friend's terrified gaze landed on Klaus. Not Kit, not anything else, but Klaus, who nodded once and then vanished on the spot.

Well, it had been a lovely day at first. Klaus still wasn't sure what the whole Thanksgiving thing was about (wasn't it just Christmas dinner a month early?), but the festivities were a welcome distraction from his own thoughts, and he was determined to give Azalea the happiest childhood possible, so he was fully on board with the whole thing. He had to be, of course, since he was the one doing most of the cooking.

He wasn't an amazing chef by any standard, but he could at least follow a recipe - Marcia had made sure of that. And apparently that put him strides ahead of the other two adults in the house. As such, he let Clara handle the organization and decorations and whatever else they had planned, while he got a head start on the umpteen course meal they'd be enjoying as a family.

A real, honest-to-goodness family dinner. It was a rarity these days, what with Kit's frequent absences, so that was one more reason to look forward to it. They'd finally be able to rely on Kit's presence for a whole week while they celebrated the holiday. They were actually functioning as they should be, with all responsibilities delegated to their respective parties and everything apparently running smoothly. Klaus cooked, Clara planned, and all Kit had to do was pick Azalea up from ballet and then they could spend the rest of the day together like a relatively normal family unit. Everything should have been perfect.

They all knew Kit was prone to spontaneous excursions and sudden changes of plans, so it wasn't all that worrying when he and Azalea were late coming home. It was perfectly in character for him to perhaps randomly decide to take her out somewhere after retrieving her from ballet. Since Klaus and Clara were both busy with their preparations at home, it would make sense to take Azalea someplace more exciting for a few hours - like the park, or Build-A-Bear, or wherever else might catch her interest - rather than making her sit through all the tedious pre-party activities. So when an hour passed, then two, then three, it was notable, but not overly alarming.

After all, Kit had definitely assured them he wouldn't be missing any of the Thanksgiving celebrations, and he hadn't informed them of any plans contrary to Clara's calendar. He wasn't needed on any business, his schedule had been cleared, so there was no reason he wouldn't be doing what he was supposed to be doing.

Except for the fact that he was Kit Harrington, and he apparently didn't need a reason to do anything, or for that matter tell anyone when he decided to do those things.

The whole situation unfolded very quickly once they realized what had happened. The pieces clicked into place, and all it took was one panic-stricken look from Clara before Klaus dropped his spoon into the saucepan full of gravy and willed himself halfway across the city in the blink of an eye. Not that his fast reflexes made any difference when he was already three hours too late.

He emerged from the air in front of the dance studio with a snap and immediately scanned the area for Azalea. She wasn't hard to find. She was the only one there.

A string of curses flooded his mind as he approached her huddled form, knowing immediately that she was not alright. She sat on the bottom step of the short staircase leading up to the front doors, and she didn't look up when he drew closer. She simply hugged her knees for comfort as she burrowed into herself, trembling slightly.

"Azalea," Klaus called out to her urgently, silently berating first himself for not suspecting sooner that something was amiss, and then Kit, the real culprit, for being an absolute fucking twat.

Azalea didn't respond to her name being called. She didn't even move.

Shit shit shit. "Azalea," he repeated, slowing down as he reached the steps. He didn't know what to do now that he was here. How could he fix this? What could he say?

It didn't matter whose fault it was right now. What mattered was that someone's negligence had led to this particular little girl sitting alone on the steps for three hours. This particular little girl who had already been abandoned at least once in her very short life. This particular little girl who had taken months to trust anyone enough to even talk, let alone express herself.

And now she was looking past him as if he wasn't even there.

"Azalea, sweetheart, please, look at me," he said as gently as he could, crouching down to face her at eye-level. Somehow, she managed to shrink even further into herself. "Azalea, I'm so, so sorry. We didn't mean to leave you here. We messed up. Your dad messed up, but he still loves you. We all do. I'm here to bring you home, okay?"

She didn't respond.

"Azalea?" he tried again. Nothing. So many months they'd worked to gain her trust, and it had taken three hours to vanish completely. He reached out tentatively to touch her shoulder. She didn't shy away from him, but that was little comfort. It was like she didn't notice him at all.

"We're going home," he repeated, jaw clenched. She didn't react as he scooped her up in his arms.

He considered apparating, but he knew how unpleasant it could be for passengers and decided it wasn't worth it. He hailed a taxi and spent the fifteen minute car ride attempting to soothe the girl in his arms, to get through to her, to draw some sort of response. Nothing worked.

He paid the cab driver and shut the door with a little more force than necessary as he hoisted Azalea up again and stalked down the long driveway toward the house. He flung the door open when he got there and locked eyes with Kit who was standing in the front hall, waiting for them. Klaus's eyes flashed dangerously as he crossed the threshold, holding Azalea close.

"You have a lot of explaining to do," he hissed.

Klaus simply watched as Clara slowly came to the same realization he had. He remained standing as the other two knelt down, trying to draw a reaction out of Azalea. Somehow, he already knew it was hopeless. He pitched in halfheartedly a couple times, not expecting much, and indeed their attempts were fruitless save for a slow nod half an hour later - hardly promising given the blank look still settled over the young girl's face. He watched as Clara carried the girl upstairs to her room.

He turned slowly at the sound of Kit's voice, fixing his incredulous gaze upon the tall photographer who somehow thought Azalea's catatonic state resembled anything close to 'okay'. The man deflated under his hard stare and finally, finally seemed to realize just how badly he'd screwed up. No number of excuses could possibly justify the situation he'd created, but at least he recognized whose fault it was.

"You think?" Klaus responded, voice low and eerily calm. He felt no sympathy for the other man at the moment. Whatever he was feeling, he deserved it.

Klaus brushed past him into the dining room, pulling out a chair as he passed and letting it scrape harshly across the polished floor.

"Sit," he commanded shortly as he crossed to the other side of the table, though he himself remained standing, bracing his hands on the table and leaning forward to meet Kit's eyes. The Scottish wizard cut a rather imposing figure as his anger simmered dangerously beneath his cool exterior. He held it back for now.

"It's time we had a talk."

"You think?"

The words were cutting, and he supposed they were meant to be. The last time someone had spoken to him like this, the greatest tragedy of his life had followed. But Kit was adamant this would not be a repeat. Last time he had made the mistake of cutting back, not realizing that there was nothing to be gained from getting the last word in. Not this time though, this time he knew who's fault it was. And his only defense was that he hadn't meant it.

He had never meant to hurt the child he loved more than anyone and anything in the world.

The photographer didn't say that though, merely hung his head in shame. Maybe months from now, they would laugh about this. Maybe years from now. At the moment though, he had to stew in his own guilt, and Klaus seemed to be following along the same vein of thought as he pulled out a chair for his friend. It was almost like being back at Hogwarts again, punished by Old McGonagall or Flitwick, except this wasn't a detention. What he'd done was a lot worse.

The American didn't even think to disobey, taking the seat he was given and belatedly realizing that give Klaus a big height advantage over him. Now the ex Auror could look down at him on every level.

"Save it please," he tried nonetheless. "You think I don't know what I did, that I'm not sorry? I know you think I'm a twat but I care about that little girl too." More than you, he almost wanted to spew out but the man stopped himself. Once again, this was not about who could hurt whom more. He'd been through that, and he would be the stupidest person in the world not to learn from it.  

"But shit happens. I didn't plan it, I don't like it, I'll probably hate myself for weeks over it, but it happened. Now we need to figure out how to fix it, and lecturing me isn't the answer Klaus." There, he'd gotten out what he thought was a pretty rational summary for someone who wanted to punch a wall over his own stupidity. Surely Klaus, far more level headed than Kit himself, would see that and move on. Right now the only thing that mattered was Azalea.

The only thing that would ever matter was her.

Klaus's face didn't change as he took in Kit's argument. His resolve remained unswayed - whether Kit liked it or not, this conversation needed to happen.

"No, you're right, lecturing you should have been the answer weeks ago. Believe it or not, I'll take some responsibility here for not having done this earlier. To be fair, I didn't think you'd listen then. Hopefully you've gained some perspective today."

He pointed upstairs toward Azalea's room, where Clara was currently putting the girl to bed. "Azalea's resting now. When she wakes up, we'll talk to her again. If she doesn't respond, and I suspect she won't, we'll keep trying like we did when she first got here. That," he gestured, "does not have a quick solution. But there is something we can fix."

He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly as he straightened up, leveling his cold gaze on the man sitting across from him. The corner of his lip quirked up in a mirthless smile as he threw Kit's words back at him.

"Shit happens, sure. Shit happens all the fucking time. And you know who picks up the pieces when it does? Clara. Me. Harper and Jen from the PTA. Everybody but you, Kit. Half the time, I don't even know what state you're in. You think with how often you tempt fate, this wasn't just a matter of time? You think shit wasn't bound to happen eventually? Do you ever worry about that when you're gone? Do you ever worry about what you're missing? Or do you just expect Clara and I to handle it? Because at this point, that's what Azalea expects too."

He lowered his voice, mindful of the girl in bed upstairs. He leaned forward again, glaring as he took in the current state of his old friend. Did he really think fatherhood was supposed to be easy?

"You say you care about that little girl? Prove it."

The rebukes Kit Harrington was papered for. He even welcomed them right now as a way to further shame himself for what he had done. He didn't need Klaus or Clara telling him he'd fucked up, he knew that. What did floor the wizard was what came after.

"What do you..." he began, trying to wrap his mind around the words coming at him hard and fast. "Azalea expects..." Even as he tried to string his thoughts together into a coherent sentence, he knew what was happening. Klaus had just suggested... the ungrateful bastard had dared... Kit's fingers itched for his wand but if that wasn't good enough, the idea of driving his fist into the other man's face would also do. How dare he suggest Azalea didn't trust her own father to take care of things for her?

But Klaus had never been a stupid man, why wasn't he backing off? He had to know the gravity of his words and yet there he stood, still and cold and... judgmental. He stood firm in his position with the conviction of a man who had just spoken the truth.

And it stung more than the photographer would ever admit to anyone. It was as if a fog lifted with the Scotsman's words, Revealing every subtle glance Azalea threw Clara or Klaus when she needed something... Kit had always been exhilarated at the idea of being the fun parent. He brought her gifts from all his travels, he took her wherever she wanted to go, he planned grand gestures and occasions and yet today, it was Klaus the little girl had clung to and Clara who had managed to get a response from her. The man staring down at him was right.

Azalea didn't expect Kit to be there for her at all...

Did she truly believe they would abandon her? That he would ever abandon her like her real parents had? If deep down the kid harbored those anxieties than today... Today he'd just fucking confirmed her worse fears.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked miserably, his head hanging down as his voice shook with emotion.

The voice that responded to his question was not Klaus's.

"Get out,' it said simply with all the authority of someone who could command every inch of the house she stood in. "And stay the fuck away from Azzie. If you can't be a consistent goddamn father than she can live without one. Klaus and I can handle her on our own." the man didn't have to see Clara's face to know she was livid. The venom from her words burned all the more because it was laced with the truth.

"Get out, leave, I don't care where you go. If needed we can get Azzie's things and get her out of here so you can keep your precious house. But don't you dare expose her to your part time parenting. You can't half ass raising a kid, Harrington, I won't let you."  Her voice was low, probably because Azalea was asleep upstairs. how Clara had even left the girl to come down, Kit didn't understand. But it only showed how badly she wanted to say these words to him.

Turning to Klaus she added "You okay with kicking his sorry ass out?"

Klaus's gaze flicked upward, meeting Clara's as the seer entered the room behind Kit. Despite the fact that it agreed with his own anger, the venom in Clara's voice surprised him - though not as much as the solution she offered. To be honest, he hadn't been thinking anything nearly so drastic. He was really only hoping to scare Kit into being more consistent, maybe getting him to swear off traveling for a couple years. Kicking him out of his own house seemed a little...extreme.

But, if that was what Clara thought best, who was he to disagree? Clara was Kit's best friend. She must truly think he deserved it for her to speak with such conviction. Klaus conceded that the only reason he really had reservations about this plan was because, deep down, he felt he owed Kit Harrington quite a bit. After all, the man had accepted him into his home, allowed him to stay far past his initial deadline, arranged for his legal immigration, and provided everything he could have possibly needed during his time here.

Then again, hadn't Klaus repaid him by helping to raise his daughter? At what point could they be considered even?

He kept his face carefully blank as he considered Clara's words. Ultimately, he decided, his own doubts were hardly important now. If he showed any sign of hesitation, Kit would likely latch onto it and that would give the other man the upper hand. If he backed down now, he would reduce the impact of everything he'd already said. He had no choice now but to double down on Clara's conviction.

"Fine with me," he replied calmly, carefully schooling his features into a mask of cold indifference. Secretly, he hoped Kit would choose to kick them out and keep his own house, because something about taking over his friend's property felt wrong to him, especially given that it was only by Kit's grace that Klaus was there in the first place. He figured he'd feel pretty guilty if he stole the other man's home. However, he really had no problem with taking Azalea and moving out - that, he thought, was perfectly justified.

In the back of his mind, he prepared himself for all the eventual consequences of this decision. He didn't want to have to rely on Kit for money anymore - the less indebted they were, the better - so he really would need a real job this time. Would they need to obtain legal custody from Kit? How much of a fight would the other man put up? He looked pretty pathetic now as they managed to hammer the guilt into him, but would he come to his senses later? He was vulnerable now, so perhaps this was their only chance to coerce him into taking actions he wouldn't normally want to take - but then, all of their emotions were running high at the moment. Would it be better for Azalea for them to wait on it until they were thinking more clearly?

No, he felt confident that he and Clara could handle whatever happened next. They'd have to. Azalea deserved commitment from at least some of the adults in her life. Klaus's resolve hardened as he aligned himself with Clara. Maybe this was his chance to finally put some good into the world. If he could do right by Azalea, maybe he could finally find peace. This was the right thing to do.