[Somewhere between fear and relief Cami has ignored the pain in her hand; in truth she has no idea how deeply she's managed to cut herself, or what harm might have been done had Klaus not been so easily able to heal her. Yet once he stops her movement she remembers the sting, looks at the cup in her hand and sees the smear of blood upon it as well. God, how long has it been since this was her world, one with bloodstains everywhere that she doesn't even notice at first?

So much like home.

She watches in silence as Klaus bites into own flesh, drawing forth the blood that would mingle with her wound and cause it to heal. His lips press warm against her fingers, and she's offered a moment to breathe before he makes his quiet demand.

He knows. Somehow he knows, and Cami realizes with renewed worry that her visit from Klaus' mirror can't have been the phantom's first.]

He, uh. He was trying to pick at my doubts. [The words feel too dry in her mouth, and now at last Cami raises that glass, hungrily seeking the familiar burn provided by the alcohol. Only after a long drink does she continue.] He wants me to doubt you, myself. He brought up the fact I'm dead, or that I'm going to be.

[But the conversation hadn't been single-sided. She finds some of that earlier resolve, steel coming into her eyes as she takes a slow breath in, and meets Klaus' gaze.]

And he couldn't stand it when I told him that I'm more real than he can ever hope of being.