"Let me see your hand," Morticia demanded and tried to reach for Klaus's hand, but he dodged her hold.

"No need, I'm fine," he mumbled.

"Bring your hand now, Klaus," she insisted, coldly this time. Without a word, Klaus offered his wounded hand to her.

He watched her apply ointment, his gaze intent, still finding it hard to believe she was actually here with him and that he had cried in her arms.

Her expression serious as she dressed his wound. "Can you stop hurting yourself whenever you're upset? And stop breaking things too; you gave your friend a lot of work."

Klaus pressed his lips together, accepting her scolding....