[Fic] [Fanfiction] Brother, My Brother
Title: Brother, My Brother
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13, possibly pushing R with some implied things.
Summary/Prompt: After case 4-4, Kristoph is completely hiss-and-spittingly furious at Klavier for his betrayal and all, but Klavier is totally still clinging to him despite everything just because all his loved ones are killers and his band gone and everything sucks but Kristoph is at least still family and that's something, right? So Klavier continues to visit Kristoph in jail at least once a week and keeps his fancy cell stocked with everything he could ever want but Kristoph is so blind with anger at him that he goes all psychokiller and really roughs Klavier up every time he comes. Eventually the guards would force him to just stand outside the bars, but he'd still keep at it being hearthurt and talking idealist nonsense and Kristoph and just making him angrier.
Klavier is a professional, he knows how to use makeup on things like icky zits and GIANT BRUISES, but his friends and coworkers totally notice how offbeat he is. But if anyone tries to talk to him he'll freak out at them and isn't defending what Kristoph has done, but insists that Kristoph is still important and his only family, and Apollo would be all "but you HAVE family all around you, stupid" but Klavier knows it's completely not the same at all.
I dig Gavincest as much as anyone, so go for it if you really want to hit that mindfuck place, but I feel like this one is less about the angry exploitation sex and more about the Stockholm Syndrome and beaten housewives and all that.
Author's Notes: Ended up being far longer than intended, but still fun to write. Comments are appreciated.
Translation Notes: Brüderlein = dear brother
Creak. The door opened, and closed.
“Kristoph.”
“Klavier. My Judas. How dare you show your face to me again.”
A sigh. “Kristoph. Have I not tried to make your stay here comfortable? Have I not brought you everything you wished for?”
“Besides my freedom.”
“You know I can't do that.”
“Nonsense, Klavier. I know just how much power you have in the prosecutor's office. If you wished it, you could get me an appeal.”
“They won't let me. They say I'm 'too closely involved'.”
Kristoph pushed Klavier against the bars, hard. His voice was low and angry.
“You've abandoned me, Klavier. You've left me for dead here in this cell, to either rot away or to die in the execution chamber!”
“Kristoph, control yourself! You know I've done everything I co-”
Klavier shut up when he was smacked across the cheek.
“Lies. Worthless lies. You're as bad as Phoenix Wright or Apollo Justice. You want me dead, don't you?! Of course!” Kristoph's mad laughter rang out, and the guards rushed forward as he grabbed Klavier by the collar.
“Mr. Gavin! Mr. Gavin!” They pried the brothers apart, and forced Klavier out of the cell, leaving Kristoph in there, alone.
“I will not forget this, Klavier.”
------------------
“Prosecutor Gavin! Prosecutor Gavin, wait up!”
Klavier turned, looking at the shorter attorney. “Ja, Herr Forehead? What is it?”
“You put up a good fight today. But you seemed... distracted.” Apollo looked up at the other man. “Is something wrong?”
“You don't need to worry about me, Forehead. I can take care of myself. Nothing's wrong.”
Apollo shook his head. “Prosecutor Gavin. You're walking with a slight limp in your left leg, and your shoulders are tensing up. You're obviously lying.”
“...Forehead.” Klavier dropped the pleasant expression, glaring at Apollo. “Are you quite finished battering me with questions? I've had a rather long day.”
The red-suited attorney shook his head again. “You're hiding something. And I'm sure-”
Klavier held up a hand, cutting Apollo off. “I assure you, it's nothing illegal or immoral. And nothing that needs to be brought up in a courthouse, of all places.”
“Then let's discuss it elsewhere.”
“...I'm afraid I must decline, Herr Forehead. I am a busy man, after all. I have other cases to look over. Guten Tag.” Klavier turned and walked away.
“Something's going on with Prosecutor Gavin...” Apollo put a finger to his forehead and thought. “What could it be...”
------------------
Klavier sauntered into the police station, and made his way over to Detective Skye's desk. “So, what do you have for me today, Fräulein Detective? Any new evidence?”
Ema looked up at Klavier. “Nothing today, you glimmerous fop, but I did have something I wanted to ask you.”
“Name it. An autograph? A date? Anything for you, Fräulein.”
“Spare me.” She glared at him and munched on a Snackoo. “Now, I know you like stage makeup, but concealer?”
Klavier froze. “What do you mean?” God, please don't let her know...
“Well.” Munch munch. “If you look at it scientifically, you're too old to get acne. So it's got to be some other kind of skin blemish. Did you fall and hit your head?”
“Y... yes. That's it.” Klavier wanted to get out of there, immediately.
“I call bull. You're too graceful to fall on your own.”
“You're very kind, Fräulein.” He grinned, nervously. “But what do you suggest?”
“...Prosecutor Gavin. I may be just a detective, but I still have the nose for scientific investigation.” Ema stood up, looking him in the eyes. “I had the feeling you would try to visit your brother... so I had the tapes copied and sent here.”
“You're too devious for your own good, Fräulein.” Klavier's expression darkened.
“You need to stay away from him.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Prosecutor Ga-”
He lifted a hand to cut her off. “I said, I can take care of myself. Now if that's all, I'll be leaving.” Klavier turned and stormed out.
“...That man gives me a headache...” Ema grumbled, and sat down.
------------------
“You came back. Come to beg for forgiveness, I take it.” Kristoph glared at his brother from inside his cell.
“Hardly, Kristoph. I came to see how you were doing.” The guards hadn't left this time, keeping an eye on the siblings.
“I'm wonderful, Klavier. Sitting here like a caged animal, waiting for my demise. I couldn't be better.” Kristoph spat the words, bitterly.
“There's no need for sarcasm, Brüderlein.” Klavier sighed, and sat down in the chair that was provided for him. “You... I miss you. I still don't understand why you did it. It just doesn't seem to be something you would do.”
“I don't need to explain myself to you, Klavier.” The older man shook his head. “Have you not always trusted my judgment?”
“Yes, but -”
“Then why doubt me now?”
“...Kristoph. You killed two people, and almost killed a third. I don't understand. Why?” Klavier looked heartbroken. “Please, just tell me.”
“No. You betrayed me, Klavier. You stabbed me in the back. You and Justice, and Wright. You are no longer my brother.” It was said simply, plainly, but it felt to Klavier like he was stabbed in the heart.
“You don't mean that, Kris...”
“I have nothing more to say to you, Prosecutor Gavin.”
------------------
A week of pleading. A week of frustrated, cut-off sentences. A week of aggravating half-there offers. Ema had told Phoenix. Ema had told Phoenix Wright, and Phoenix had told Ema to make sure Klavier got to the Wright Anything Agency at six P.M. sharp on Friday evening.
“I'm sorry, Fräulein, but no. I'm busy that evening.”
“Doing what?”
“Doing... something. Working.”
“Lies. Dirty, filthy lies.” The detective glared at him. “I made a promise to Mr. Wright. I owe him a favor for getting me a new fingerprint kit. And you. Are. Going.”
Klavier threw down a file in frustration. “What will it take to get you to see that I'm not going?! Especially to a dinner with Herr Wright!”
Ema paused mid-munch. “You can't be blaming him for getting Kristoph convicted. You glimmerous fop... do you know how stupid that is?”
“I'm not denying what Kristoph did. I'm not excusing his behavior. But Herr Wright is, after all, the one who gathered all the evidence.”
“So you'd rather Kristoph had gotten away with it?”
“...No. Of course not.” Klavier bent and picked up the file, sorting the scattered papers. “Just... it is... difficult. Very difficult for me.”
“Look. Mr. Gavin. Please. Just... try. Scientifically speaking, it can't be that bad.” Ema tried to sound reasonable. “I'll even tell them that dinner shouldn't last more than an hour. Besides.” She grinned. “I'm sure you've dealt with worse people on tour or during cases.”
“...” He sighed. “Fine. One hour. If you swear you'll leave me alone after that.”
“Scout's honor.”
“...Fräulein, were you ever a scout?”
“...No.”
“I thought not.”
------------------
At precisely six P.M. on Friday evening, Klavier knocked on the door of the apartment Phoenix and Trucy shared, along with Apollo on occasion. Ema had abandoned Klavier at the door, but told him that she would know if he bolted - and he didn't doubt her. The tricky Fräulein had probably hid a video camera on him somewhere.
In any case, the door opened. Phoenix grinned at him.
“What do we have here? Prosecutor Gavin. Come on in. Apollo's here... Trucy had something to do at school, so she's staying late.”
Klavier nodded stiffly, and walked inside. The apartment was cluttered, from years of living with a teenage girl and a disorganized ex-lawyer.
“Go on. Sit down. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. ...And watch out for the collapsing chair. Trucy likes to switch it with one of the regular chairs.”
Which Klavier quickly found out was true when he sat down in one of them and promptly landed on the floor. Phoenix laughed, and offered Klavier a hand, but he managed to get up on his own.
It was at that point that Apollo came out of the bathroom. He blinked at Klavier. “Oh. You're here! Sorry it's a mess... I couldn't convince Mr. Wright to clean up.”
The prosecutor waved it off. “It isn't a problem. I have been in messier places.” He found a chair, making sure it wouldn't collapse on him, and sat down. Apollo sat down across from Klavier, and Phoenix bustled about in the kitchen.
“How have you been?” Apollo asked, worrying at his bracelet.
“I've been all right, Herr Forehead. Tired, but that's to be expected when you work day and night, ja?” Klavier chuckled, and leaned back in the chair a bit.
“Yeah... I know what you mean.” The defense attorney rubbed his forehead, laughing a little. “You're not... upset, are you, over the case last week?”
The other man shook his head. “Nein. As long as the right person was convicted. But I can never seem to win against you! It's frustrating sometimes.”
“Klavier... Ema told me about -” Apollo cut off at a particularly venomous glare from Klavier.
“Has she been going around telling everyone now?” The blond gritted his teeth. “Should I expect to see this in the tabloids, then?”
“No, I just...” Apollo trailed off as Phoenix came in with the food. It was pasta, which he served to the three of them, whistling some tune or another, before sitting down himself.
They ate fairly quietly, occasionally passing some bland, meaningless comment or another, until they were done with the food. Klavier sat back, and looked at the plate.
“This wasn't necessary.” The blond said finally, sighing.
“Apollo, can you excuse us for a moment?” Phoenix gave Apollo a pointed look, and the red-suited attorney got up and took the plates into the kitchen to start washing them.
When they were alone, Phoenix looked at Klavier seriously. “How long has he been doing that to you?”
“Doing... what, exactly?”
“...Klavier, don't play dumb. That wasn't the first time he's been physical with you, was it? Was he like that even before he was arrested?” Phoenix sighed. “How long has it been going on?”
Klavier opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it. It was obvious, wasn't it? “...A long time. He'd demand that I do something... then if I didn't, he would... correct... me. It wasn't always violent... at least not like that.”
The corner of Phoenix's mouth twitched slightly. “Do I need to bring out the doll?”
Klavier stared. “...The what.”
“The doll. For you to show me where he touched you.”
Klavier's mouth twitched in a frighteningly Kristoph-like manner. He took several deep breaths, and scowled. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Klavier. How badly has he hurt you?” Phoenix asked.
The prosecutor stood up. “I believe I've stayed long enough. Goodbye, Herr Wright.”
“Klavier, wa-”
The door closed.
“...Well damn.”
------------------
“Mr. Gavin, it wasn't that bad. It couldn't have been that bad. ...Damn it, you glimmerous fop, answer me!”
Klavier didn't respond to the angry detective standing in his doorway with a file in her hand. He just made notes from the case file he was working on.
Finally, Ema marched over to his desk and slammed the file down. “I came all the way down here and you ignore me?! Ooh, you make me so mad! See if I ever do anything for you!” She reached out and toppled his pen holder over in frustration.
His hand shot out, and closed around her wrist tightly. She gave a shout of surprise, and Klavier's eyes went wide. He let Ema go, and pushed his chair back, taking several deep breaths.
Ema rubbed her wrist, and stared at him. “What's gotten... oh. Oh. That makes sense, scientifically speaking, but...”
She trailed off when she saw the look of fear on the prosecutor's face. “Mr. Gavin?”
“I'm not like him. I won't let myself be like him.”
The detective sighed, and flopped down in a chair. “You're not. You're just... Mr. Gavin, he was like this even before, wasn't he? You can't let him abuse you li-”
“It's not abuse!” Klavier cut her off. She snorted.
“Well, it sure looks like it. Seriously, I think you need help.”
Klavier laughed. “Help? Help? Maybe. You might be right. But it's hard to admit it. He's basically my only family.”
Ema frowned. “You idiot. Why do you think Mr. Wright told me to drag you to dinner? He's worried about you.”
“Him? Worried about me? After what I did?”
“Yeah, but it wasn't your fault. Kristoph tricked you. He tricked everyone.”
Klavier put his head in his hands, and sighed. He pulled a small packet out of his drawer, took out a wipe, and wiped his face, and his arms. As the concealer was removed, large bruises on his face and arms became visible. Ema swore under her breath, and stared.
“I bruise easily.” He said simply, by way of explanation.
“He really did a number on you, didn't he? I don't have all the tapes, but...”
Klavier nodded, suddenly very tired. “He did. I just... he needs me.”
“Then stop seeing him!”
“He's my only family.”
Ema growled, frustrated. “What will it take to make you see reason? You're not alone. People care about you. Mr. Wright cares about you. Apollo cares about you. I...” She shut her mouth.
Klavier snickered. “And you, Fräulein?”
“I... well... I... ugh!” She stood up and marched out of his office. “You're impossible!”
He laughed as he watched her go. Then, he punched something into the computer.
“...Five three.” Klavier took out his cellphone and dialed a number. He listened to it ring, and waited. “Come on, pick up... ah! ...Herr Forehead. ...Ja, it's me. J... ja. Listen, Herr Forehead. I know I... ja. Do you think I could...”
“...Ja, that's what I'm asking. ... Ja. Friday at five-thirty. Perhaps it won't be a disaster this time, ja?”
He hung up, and sighed, closing his eyes.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Pairing: None
Rating: PG-13, possibly pushing R with some implied things.
Summary/Prompt: After case 4-4, Kristoph is completely hiss-and-spittingly furious at Klavier for his betrayal and all, but Klavier is totally still clinging to him despite everything just because all his loved ones are killers and his band gone and everything sucks but Kristoph is at least still family and that's something, right? So Klavier continues to visit Kristoph in jail at least once a week and keeps his fancy cell stocked with everything he could ever want but Kristoph is so blind with anger at him that he goes all psychokiller and really roughs Klavier up every time he comes. Eventually the guards would force him to just stand outside the bars, but he'd still keep at it being hearthurt and talking idealist nonsense and Kristoph and just making him angrier.
Klavier is a professional, he knows how to use makeup on things like icky zits and GIANT BRUISES, but his friends and coworkers totally notice how offbeat he is. But if anyone tries to talk to him he'll freak out at them and isn't defending what Kristoph has done, but insists that Kristoph is still important and his only family, and Apollo would be all "but you HAVE family all around you, stupid" but Klavier knows it's completely not the same at all.
I dig Gavincest as much as anyone, so go for it if you really want to hit that mindfuck place, but I feel like this one is less about the angry exploitation sex and more about the Stockholm Syndrome and beaten housewives and all that.
Author's Notes: Ended up being far longer than intended, but still fun to write. Comments are appreciated.
Translation Notes: Brüderlein = dear brother
Creak. The door opened, and closed.
“Kristoph.”
“Klavier. My Judas. How dare you show your face to me again.”
A sigh. “Kristoph. Have I not tried to make your stay here comfortable? Have I not brought you everything you wished for?”
“Besides my freedom.”
“You know I can't do that.”
“Nonsense, Klavier. I know just how much power you have in the prosecutor's office. If you wished it, you could get me an appeal.”
“They won't let me. They say I'm 'too closely involved'.”
Kristoph pushed Klavier against the bars, hard. His voice was low and angry.
“You've abandoned me, Klavier. You've left me for dead here in this cell, to either rot away or to die in the execution chamber!”
“Kristoph, control yourself! You know I've done everything I co-”
Klavier shut up when he was smacked across the cheek.
“Lies. Worthless lies. You're as bad as Phoenix Wright or Apollo Justice. You want me dead, don't you?! Of course!” Kristoph's mad laughter rang out, and the guards rushed forward as he grabbed Klavier by the collar.
“Mr. Gavin! Mr. Gavin!” They pried the brothers apart, and forced Klavier out of the cell, leaving Kristoph in there, alone.
“I will not forget this, Klavier.”
------------------
“Prosecutor Gavin! Prosecutor Gavin, wait up!”
Klavier turned, looking at the shorter attorney. “Ja, Herr Forehead? What is it?”
“You put up a good fight today. But you seemed... distracted.” Apollo looked up at the other man. “Is something wrong?”
“You don't need to worry about me, Forehead. I can take care of myself. Nothing's wrong.”
Apollo shook his head. “Prosecutor Gavin. You're walking with a slight limp in your left leg, and your shoulders are tensing up. You're obviously lying.”
“...Forehead.” Klavier dropped the pleasant expression, glaring at Apollo. “Are you quite finished battering me with questions? I've had a rather long day.”
The red-suited attorney shook his head again. “You're hiding something. And I'm sure-”
Klavier held up a hand, cutting Apollo off. “I assure you, it's nothing illegal or immoral. And nothing that needs to be brought up in a courthouse, of all places.”
“Then let's discuss it elsewhere.”
“...I'm afraid I must decline, Herr Forehead. I am a busy man, after all. I have other cases to look over. Guten Tag.” Klavier turned and walked away.
“Something's going on with Prosecutor Gavin...” Apollo put a finger to his forehead and thought. “What could it be...”
------------------
Klavier sauntered into the police station, and made his way over to Detective Skye's desk. “So, what do you have for me today, Fräulein Detective? Any new evidence?”
Ema looked up at Klavier. “Nothing today, you glimmerous fop, but I did have something I wanted to ask you.”
“Name it. An autograph? A date? Anything for you, Fräulein.”
“Spare me.” She glared at him and munched on a Snackoo. “Now, I know you like stage makeup, but concealer?”
Klavier froze. “What do you mean?” God, please don't let her know...
“Well.” Munch munch. “If you look at it scientifically, you're too old to get acne. So it's got to be some other kind of skin blemish. Did you fall and hit your head?”
“Y... yes. That's it.” Klavier wanted to get out of there, immediately.
“I call bull. You're too graceful to fall on your own.”
“You're very kind, Fräulein.” He grinned, nervously. “But what do you suggest?”
“...Prosecutor Gavin. I may be just a detective, but I still have the nose for scientific investigation.” Ema stood up, looking him in the eyes. “I had the feeling you would try to visit your brother... so I had the tapes copied and sent here.”
“You're too devious for your own good, Fräulein.” Klavier's expression darkened.
“You need to stay away from him.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Prosecutor Ga-”
He lifted a hand to cut her off. “I said, I can take care of myself. Now if that's all, I'll be leaving.” Klavier turned and stormed out.
“...That man gives me a headache...” Ema grumbled, and sat down.
------------------
“You came back. Come to beg for forgiveness, I take it.” Kristoph glared at his brother from inside his cell.
“Hardly, Kristoph. I came to see how you were doing.” The guards hadn't left this time, keeping an eye on the siblings.
“I'm wonderful, Klavier. Sitting here like a caged animal, waiting for my demise. I couldn't be better.” Kristoph spat the words, bitterly.
“There's no need for sarcasm, Brüderlein.” Klavier sighed, and sat down in the chair that was provided for him. “You... I miss you. I still don't understand why you did it. It just doesn't seem to be something you would do.”
“I don't need to explain myself to you, Klavier.” The older man shook his head. “Have you not always trusted my judgment?”
“Yes, but -”
“Then why doubt me now?”
“...Kristoph. You killed two people, and almost killed a third. I don't understand. Why?” Klavier looked heartbroken. “Please, just tell me.”
“No. You betrayed me, Klavier. You stabbed me in the back. You and Justice, and Wright. You are no longer my brother.” It was said simply, plainly, but it felt to Klavier like he was stabbed in the heart.
“You don't mean that, Kris...”
“I have nothing more to say to you, Prosecutor Gavin.”
------------------
A week of pleading. A week of frustrated, cut-off sentences. A week of aggravating half-there offers. Ema had told Phoenix. Ema had told Phoenix Wright, and Phoenix had told Ema to make sure Klavier got to the Wright Anything Agency at six P.M. sharp on Friday evening.
“I'm sorry, Fräulein, but no. I'm busy that evening.”
“Doing what?”
“Doing... something. Working.”
“Lies. Dirty, filthy lies.” The detective glared at him. “I made a promise to Mr. Wright. I owe him a favor for getting me a new fingerprint kit. And you. Are. Going.”
Klavier threw down a file in frustration. “What will it take to get you to see that I'm not going?! Especially to a dinner with Herr Wright!”
Ema paused mid-munch. “You can't be blaming him for getting Kristoph convicted. You glimmerous fop... do you know how stupid that is?”
“I'm not denying what Kristoph did. I'm not excusing his behavior. But Herr Wright is, after all, the one who gathered all the evidence.”
“So you'd rather Kristoph had gotten away with it?”
“...No. Of course not.” Klavier bent and picked up the file, sorting the scattered papers. “Just... it is... difficult. Very difficult for me.”
“Look. Mr. Gavin. Please. Just... try. Scientifically speaking, it can't be that bad.” Ema tried to sound reasonable. “I'll even tell them that dinner shouldn't last more than an hour. Besides.” She grinned. “I'm sure you've dealt with worse people on tour or during cases.”
“...” He sighed. “Fine. One hour. If you swear you'll leave me alone after that.”
“Scout's honor.”
“...Fräulein, were you ever a scout?”
“...No.”
“I thought not.”
------------------
At precisely six P.M. on Friday evening, Klavier knocked on the door of the apartment Phoenix and Trucy shared, along with Apollo on occasion. Ema had abandoned Klavier at the door, but told him that she would know if he bolted - and he didn't doubt her. The tricky Fräulein had probably hid a video camera on him somewhere.
In any case, the door opened. Phoenix grinned at him.
“What do we have here? Prosecutor Gavin. Come on in. Apollo's here... Trucy had something to do at school, so she's staying late.”
Klavier nodded stiffly, and walked inside. The apartment was cluttered, from years of living with a teenage girl and a disorganized ex-lawyer.
“Go on. Sit down. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. ...And watch out for the collapsing chair. Trucy likes to switch it with one of the regular chairs.”
Which Klavier quickly found out was true when he sat down in one of them and promptly landed on the floor. Phoenix laughed, and offered Klavier a hand, but he managed to get up on his own.
It was at that point that Apollo came out of the bathroom. He blinked at Klavier. “Oh. You're here! Sorry it's a mess... I couldn't convince Mr. Wright to clean up.”
The prosecutor waved it off. “It isn't a problem. I have been in messier places.” He found a chair, making sure it wouldn't collapse on him, and sat down. Apollo sat down across from Klavier, and Phoenix bustled about in the kitchen.
“How have you been?” Apollo asked, worrying at his bracelet.
“I've been all right, Herr Forehead. Tired, but that's to be expected when you work day and night, ja?” Klavier chuckled, and leaned back in the chair a bit.
“Yeah... I know what you mean.” The defense attorney rubbed his forehead, laughing a little. “You're not... upset, are you, over the case last week?”
The other man shook his head. “Nein. As long as the right person was convicted. But I can never seem to win against you! It's frustrating sometimes.”
“Klavier... Ema told me about -” Apollo cut off at a particularly venomous glare from Klavier.
“Has she been going around telling everyone now?” The blond gritted his teeth. “Should I expect to see this in the tabloids, then?”
“No, I just...” Apollo trailed off as Phoenix came in with the food. It was pasta, which he served to the three of them, whistling some tune or another, before sitting down himself.
They ate fairly quietly, occasionally passing some bland, meaningless comment or another, until they were done with the food. Klavier sat back, and looked at the plate.
“This wasn't necessary.” The blond said finally, sighing.
“Apollo, can you excuse us for a moment?” Phoenix gave Apollo a pointed look, and the red-suited attorney got up and took the plates into the kitchen to start washing them.
When they were alone, Phoenix looked at Klavier seriously. “How long has he been doing that to you?”
“Doing... what, exactly?”
“...Klavier, don't play dumb. That wasn't the first time he's been physical with you, was it? Was he like that even before he was arrested?” Phoenix sighed. “How long has it been going on?”
Klavier opened his mouth to protest, and then shut it. It was obvious, wasn't it? “...A long time. He'd demand that I do something... then if I didn't, he would... correct... me. It wasn't always violent... at least not like that.”
The corner of Phoenix's mouth twitched slightly. “Do I need to bring out the doll?”
Klavier stared. “...The what.”
“The doll. For you to show me where he touched you.”
Klavier's mouth twitched in a frighteningly Kristoph-like manner. He took several deep breaths, and scowled. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Klavier. How badly has he hurt you?” Phoenix asked.
The prosecutor stood up. “I believe I've stayed long enough. Goodbye, Herr Wright.”
“Klavier, wa-”
The door closed.
“...Well damn.”
------------------
“Mr. Gavin, it wasn't that bad. It couldn't have been that bad. ...Damn it, you glimmerous fop, answer me!”
Klavier didn't respond to the angry detective standing in his doorway with a file in her hand. He just made notes from the case file he was working on.
Finally, Ema marched over to his desk and slammed the file down. “I came all the way down here and you ignore me?! Ooh, you make me so mad! See if I ever do anything for you!” She reached out and toppled his pen holder over in frustration.
His hand shot out, and closed around her wrist tightly. She gave a shout of surprise, and Klavier's eyes went wide. He let Ema go, and pushed his chair back, taking several deep breaths.
Ema rubbed her wrist, and stared at him. “What's gotten... oh. Oh. That makes sense, scientifically speaking, but...”
She trailed off when she saw the look of fear on the prosecutor's face. “Mr. Gavin?”
“I'm not like him. I won't let myself be like him.”
The detective sighed, and flopped down in a chair. “You're not. You're just... Mr. Gavin, he was like this even before, wasn't he? You can't let him abuse you li-”
“It's not abuse!” Klavier cut her off. She snorted.
“Well, it sure looks like it. Seriously, I think you need help.”
Klavier laughed. “Help? Help? Maybe. You might be right. But it's hard to admit it. He's basically my only family.”
Ema frowned. “You idiot. Why do you think Mr. Wright told me to drag you to dinner? He's worried about you.”
“Him? Worried about me? After what I did?”
“Yeah, but it wasn't your fault. Kristoph tricked you. He tricked everyone.”
Klavier put his head in his hands, and sighed. He pulled a small packet out of his drawer, took out a wipe, and wiped his face, and his arms. As the concealer was removed, large bruises on his face and arms became visible. Ema swore under her breath, and stared.
“I bruise easily.” He said simply, by way of explanation.
“He really did a number on you, didn't he? I don't have all the tapes, but...”
Klavier nodded, suddenly very tired. “He did. I just... he needs me.”
“Then stop seeing him!”
“He's my only family.”
Ema growled, frustrated. “What will it take to make you see reason? You're not alone. People care about you. Mr. Wright cares about you. Apollo cares about you. I...” She shut her mouth.
Klavier snickered. “And you, Fräulein?”
“I... well... I... ugh!” She stood up and marched out of his office. “You're impossible!”
He laughed as he watched her go. Then, he punched something into the computer.
“...Five three.” Klavier took out his cellphone and dialed a number. He listened to it ring, and waited. “Come on, pick up... ah! ...Herr Forehead. ...Ja, it's me. J... ja. Listen, Herr Forehead. I know I... ja. Do you think I could...”
“...Ja, that's what I'm asking. ... Ja. Friday at five-thirty. Perhaps it won't be a disaster this time, ja?”
He hung up, and sighed, closing his eyes.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.