Apology Needed

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"Klaus," Semra breathed out.

Anya's gaze was fixed on his face.

"Don't you understand–" Semra said. "Did you hear what I said?!"

Klaus nodded, his eyes distant.

"You should take time to process it, Klaus," Sam said. "You don't have to say anything right now. It took me– took me a while to wrap my mind around it, you know," he added quietly. "Don't answer her yet."

Klaus glanced at him, and a dry chuckle crackled in his throat.

"I don't think you get a say, Sam," he said. "It is Semra's recovery. And mine." He shifted his eyes at Semra. "I forgive you, Semra. For lying and hiding the truth." Anya saw muscles once again roll on his tense jaw. "Not for the accident. That's not my judgement to make."

His hand once again found Anya's.

"And I'm not being kind, or pitying you," he added. "I'm doing it for me. I need to forgive you, because I don't want to carry it with me. Not anymore."

He splayed his hand on his chest, over his sternum, as if it hurt. It probably did. Semra was crying silently, and then she weakly pushed away from Sam and took a small step towards Klaus. Anya felt a pang of apprehension towards the woman.

"I'll tell everyone about it," Semra whispered frantically. "I promise, N– Klaus. I promise. I already told Sam, and Da... and I will let everyone know what happened. That you weren't at fault."

"It doesn't matter," Klaus said in a low voice. "As long as I know– And Anna." He gave Anya's fingers a gentle squeeze. "It's your story to tell, Semra. Your demons. Count me out of it, and do whatever you want."

"Klaus..." Semra folded her hands in front of her chest pleadingly. "Can I please come again? I just need to talk to someone–"

"I'm sorry, Semra, not anytime soon," he interrupted her, quietly but firmly. "I have my own steps to work on."

"Of course, of course," Semra muttered. ""I shouldn't have– I'm sorry–"

"It's time to go, Semra." Her husband stretched his hand to her. She winced away, but then nodded and headed to the door.

"Sam?" Klaus called after Holyoake, when the couple were almost out of the door.

The dark-haired man turned, and their eyes met.

"You should try to forgive yourself too," Klaus said. "Talk to someone."

"I don't–" Sam paused, and then he pressed his lips and gave Klaus a slow nod. "Yeah, man, I will. And– We'll talk about it some other day." He glanced at Klaus from askance. "But I'm really sorry about your nose."

"Which time?" Klaus asked, a shadow of humour glimmering in his eyes - and Anya suddenly saw that long ago, in another life, the two men used to be friends.

"The second and the third," Sam said with a small shrug. "The first time you were being a wanker."

He opened the door, let Semra out - and now, Anya and Klaus were alone in the room.

"Klaus?"

His fingers slackened, releasing his grasp on her hand.

"I'd like to be alone right now," he said sharply.

Anya stared at him flabbergasted. She'd expected the opposite.

"Of course," she answered, reminding herself that he'd been right and it was his recovery. "Would you like me to call someone? Maybe Olofsson can take your recliner to the garden. Or–"

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