[ ongoing ] Edgeworth & Klavier - Decisions
When; Some time after this
Rating; PG
Characters; Klavier Gavin [playitmyway] & Miles Edgeworth [objectedly]
Summary; After making sure things have calmed down around them, Edgeworth seeks out Klavier, though with a terrible sense of foreboding that everything they have worked so hard for and come so far with is slowly going to be shredded by the blades of the past... can friendship truly be the winner beyond the ties of time and family? [/omgdramaaaaaaaa]
Log;
He wasn't his babysitter.
That's all he knew he needed to tell himself, over and over again, and yet somehow his body decided it was going to betray him and follow-- yes, that's it, perhaps it was a curse that took control from people's bodies and made them wander around aimlessly until they reached-- Why did Gavin like coming down here at all? His thoughts came to a halt as he looked up at the bar that he hadn't looked in-- fortunately, there was a good difference between the overground and underground places, and there weren't too many places to worry about once you knew where to look. He sighed to himself, feeling a chill as he was allowed passage in after a couple passed through the doors, and he glanced up and around himself. A small establishment, possibly cheap and-- ah. There. He wouldn't miss that frame standing out from between this strange crowd even if he'd wanted to. Which was an odd thing in itself when he thought about just how much change Klavier had brought to him.
It was an oddly comfortable feeling that he didn't think was the right time to think on-- and adjusting the collar of his dark blazer, under which he wore a button down shirt and trousers, and surprise of all surprises, missing the ruffles (he'd grown used to not wearing the jabot outside of when he had to work at the office), he could actually pass off for a (possibly well-dressed) commoner. Sighing, as he ran his hand through his dark silver hair and stepped up to the side of where the younger man had seen fit to seat himself, he cast a careful glance over at him to ascertain that he had the right man. Once satisfied, he looked back ahead of himself and murmured, "I had to go through every bar in the Underground. You could have at least chosen one that had some light." His tone, however, was soft-- indicating that Klavier was more than welcome to ignore what he just said.
It seemed to take Klavier a few moments to realize that he was being addressed. That, or he just wasn't bothering to acknowledge it straight away - and when one took into account his penchant for picking out voices, the latter seemed the more plausible of the possibilities.
His posture wasn't quite what it had been, just a few days ago, and though his shoulders were slumped it didn't seem that much of the tension was gone from them, even with the aid of the drink he'd procured and been nursing disinterestedly for some time. He barely turned to regard Edgeworth when he finally replied - gaze sliding to rest upon him, though there wasn't much shift in position.
"I didn't feel like light."
And that was that. Klavier had left with a purpose in mind - and it wasn't to drink, not really - he wasn't the type to drown his sorrows in liquor. No, he'd just wanted some time alone - some time to mull over his thoughts in private, away from Machi and his friend, away from Edgeworth, away from whoever else would try to draw him out of that inevitable slump. He'd suspected that the other prosecutor would come looking, and so he'd tried to pick an inconvenient spot - one that would at least buy him some more time if he persisted, and one that he had some hope of being overlooked in.
So much for that.
"You didn't need to come here."
The older prosecutor didn't seem to look very deterred, if troubled at all by that seemingly considerate suggestion of where he chose to spend his time. Regardless of what Klavier might have thought of Edgeworth, Edgeworth knew-- and had long since gotten himself used to the fact that he considered Klavier Gavin a friend... just short of being a confidante. He wasn't quite there yet with anyone save with Franziska, and the only other person who worried after him selflessly was Detective Gumshoe. Phoenix on the other hand... it was complicated, especially after how they had eventually grown to be around each other.
He shook his head. None of them were here, and he knew his own status with the former rock star. That was what was important now. And it was for this reason alone that Miles Edgeworth ended up coming down here at all-- not only because he intended to follow in the footsteps of his companions by being considerate and caring for Klavier's slump (though, he had to confess, it wasn't a bad excuse were the boy not being so depressingly diva-esque about it...), but because frankly, this whole excess of gloom, despair and doom was detrimental to Klavier's sanity-- and, admittedly, his own.
Resting his arms against the sides of the counter, he glanced up and decided he wasn't going to have anything but water-- though even that, he was hesitant to have from the looks of this place alone. After a brief pause, he looked down at the counter's surface, and then replied honestly, "I wanted to." He left that at that, and glanced down at his hand, not facing the younger prosecutor for the while, giving him his space in that manner for now.
"You'll have to come back out sometime."
"When I know that I can without being pulled back into that again, maybe."
And he was bound to remain stubborn on that point - because for all Klavier now knew of Kristoph, he didn't intend to give him the chance to worm his way back into his life - back into what he'd just reclaimed as his own life for the first time in, as he'd discovered, years. He couldn't take the risk, not without knowing for certain what his brother had planned - if he had a plan at all.
It would be difficult, he knew - and while he'd come to trust Edgeworth in their time together he knew that even that was dangerous when it came down to Kristoph, and he knew that he needed to be as careful as he could with his relationships and how they came to be viewed.
"You'll understand if I don't make the best company for a while, ja?"
The question was a dry one, and he didn't really expect a reply. Edgeworth wasn't an idiot - and neither was Klavier, and he knew that he'd heard the whole conversation, that he knew what was being dealt with and how Klavier would want to manage it.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Here they were, two prosecutors from the same world, with quite possibly the most similar falls of fate that one could ever imagine for them-- and while Edgeworth had no need for the light in the beginning, there was Klavier who had only ever known it, and yet had been in darkness deeper than his own light could have allowed him freedom from. It opened Edgeworth's eyes to many things, the main ones being seen in the fact that he had spent far, far too long seeing the bad in everyone, clouded by the veil of forced perfection over his eyes. And it wasn't until Wright that he had begun to show him the things in the way he remembered his father would look at them that he'd realized he needed to wake up and not be the man raised by Manfred von Karma, but the human being born of Gregory Edgeworth, flawed and seeking the best path towards the truth that would give criminals what they deserved for their crimes.
And for Klavier, it was an oddly opposing situation-- he'd known nothing but the light. He'd believed-- and never had any reason to believe anything other than the fact that he -had- been right and the explanations earlier confirmed all of that. How similar, over and over again, to how Edgeworth would have once considered Manfred von Karma's word law and nothing less-- to how Klavier would have not questioned Kristoph Gavin.
And how, even now, Klavier was taking that path that would still attempt to make himself a sacrificial offering to keep his possibly deranged brother at bay.
A soft, almost tired chuckle escaped him at those words, and he drummed his fingers against the counter surface. "Seekers of good company don't enter the Underground, so I gather." He replied calmly, glancing up as his water glass with ice came in, and he stared at the tumbler apprehensively before pressing a finger to the frosty surface, feeling the cheap plastic crystallized texture beneath it.
"You did well, regardless. Telling him off before he could do anything at all." He then spoke softly, glancing at the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass. "But what exactly did you hope to gain by hiding away this way? He'd be a fool to try anything now, especially when you know what is to come, if what he's saying is really the truth." His voice became quieter as he turned his gaze, grey eyes focusing on the side of the younger man's head. "You're frightened of him, aren't you?"
"I'm frightened of what he's capable of."
That summed it up as best he could, really. Klavier wasn't afraid of Kristoph - not personally, no. Because he still believed, in that part of him that he was forcefully subduing, that had brought him to this place, that Kristoph would, at the very least, not hurt him. But then, if he knew what Klavier had done, and if he'd gone to such lengths to seek revenge for something even pettier...
Well, Klavier wasn't sure what he had to be afraid of. But he knew that one way or another, it all did stem from Kristoph - and whether it would be himself or his friends set in danger, it wasn't something he wanted to deal with.
".. If I don't see him, I keep my resolve, ja? I can't afford to lose that."
It was the truth. Without the knowledge of Kristoph's time - what he knew and what he didn't - what he could or could not have been planning - all Klavier had was the stubborn decision not to interact with him. It tore at him, truly, because in the end Kristoph was still the man he'd grown up with, looked up to, centered a large part of himself around.
Unfortunately, that didn't change what he'd become in the young prosecutor's mind.
"But if he can find me," and he laughed now, something dark and quiet and unbecoming of him, ".. then he will, whether he's doing it to hurt me or not."
It was rather troubling, and yet Edgeworth couldn't find it in himself to argue, the way Klavier was taking this. From all the people he had gotten to know in this City, Klavier Gavin was the one person who had not only earned his respect in a short period of time, but his trust-- and for those who knew how difficult that actually was, it might have come as a surprise that Miles Edgeworth was trusting someone like him at all. But it wasn't so much as the fact that he saw himself in Klavier-- they were as different in personality as the earth and sky, but their outlooks on so many things agreed, influenced by things that had happened with them, and more often than not ended up being the very things that helped them work so well with each other. He responded first, with a small chuckle in his throat, and he touched his fingers to the rim of his glass, absently turning it around in a circle as he murmured, "I suppose closing your eyes for a little while couldn't hurt in this case."
It was saddening, in a way, to see how the boy was resolving himself against a member of his family. That alone made this situation painful. While he'd found a sister in Franziska, they weren't kin. And Klavier, Klavier had a brother, his link to a real family. He wasn't saying that Klavier should have been grateful for what he did have, but that he should have at least been able to understand how Kristoph worked and be able to work around him. And he paused as he realized that he had followed-- down to that soft, un-Klavier-like sound that was some excuse of a laugh-- the boy's words, and found a chill settling in his chest.
To think that Klavier was so certain that his brother would seek him out with malicious intent. His expression grew strained for a moment, before he closed his eyes and then stared ahead of himself again. "And what if he doesn't, Klavier?" He asked, the countertop feeling warm against his palm. "What if, on supposition, what he claims is true? What if right now, you have the largest chance of changing all that has gone wrong?" He didn't quite believe Kristoph Gavin right now, but it stemmed from Klavier's fear. "The longer you hide, the lesser you'll be able to see him for who he really is. And I don't think that will get you any closer to the truth you need..."
He trailed off for a bit, sighing as he lowered his head. "... You would have the power to make that change now that he's in the City, if this is true. For all that he's done, he's still your brother." And here, he looked up at the younger prosecutor, his expression gentle, but serious. "But that's all this is, isn't it? An assumption that he may not be the brother you now know." As he continued to watch him, he noticed his face, the way he wore his hair, and it struck him, oddly enough, just how much of Kristoph Gavin still showed in Klavier.
And if he took himself back a few years before where Klavier was now, then he would see himself, dark-haired, decked in gold and magenta, in cuff linked sleeves, ready to punish criminals as they well belonged under an ideal of perfection and justice that meant nothing in finding the truth. Von Karma's trophy in his perfect revenge.
Just for that moment, he wondered how much of Klavier's perspective of truth had been warped since his last case. And it hurt to think on the fact that it might have been harmed enough to upset his own inner self-image.
"More to the point... why are you ready to punish yourself before him?" Edgeworth never beat around the bush and he finally asked what had been on his mind for a while. "What he did in your world was a misguided choice that rippled over into the lives of those who should have never been touched with it... you're better than that, Klavier." His voice remained steady. "And you can't let him even gain the possibility of a chance where he could hurt you, using others again."
"Because I have to."
It was now that he turned to look at Edgeworth, that stubbornness readily playing in his gaze, again. Whatever sadness there was, there had been, was overridden in that moment, that instant where the look turned to something close to anger but that couldn't quite reach it, leaving it marked at resolution.
He didn't know why it was so hard to understand. He had explained it, hadn't he? Kristoph was poisonous. He was something that couldn't be trusted, couldn't be allowed to sink his fangs in, because that venom was quick-acting and paralyzing all in one, but the warmth of it was an addiction and it was something that you couldn't simply slip out of if you'd gotten so much as a taste.
And for all that he knew, this Kristoph was the brother he'd known - he'd hoped to know - and for all he knew there was a chance at saving him, and that was the punishment, wasn't it, because there was no way of knowing - there was no way to be sure.
"I see him for what he is, now. I have to see him for what I know him to be, because if I don't - if on that off chance, this isn't a lie - even if I could save him - if I'm wrong, I can't turn back. If I'm wrong, I won't know to turn back, because I won't have the opportunity. He won't-"
And he had to stop to take a breath, because even now that blackness that Kristoph had left within him still tugged at his chest, still weighted his heart so profoundly that it hurt to admit what he recognized as the truth.
" -- he won't falter, if he's lying. He'll let this be, pretend it never happened - und he'll go on, und seek the retribution that he could have had without the same errors he made the last time. If I give him the benefit of the doubt - if I face him the way he is now, then he'll have that possibility, Herr Edgeworth. It comes down to the vague possibility of changing what I know to be a just end... or risking demolishing it altogether and losing far more, in the process."
It wasn't so much as the fact that it was hard to understand, than the fact that he did understand and felt that there were other ways to work around it and that resolution in his voice made his fingers twitch ever so slightly. And then he saw it-- that flicker of unsurity and desperation that made Edgeworth's heart sink in his chest. Did Klavier even want this at all? Was he just trying to convince himself that this and no other way were the only ways to solve anything in this situation?
"Klavier..." The name was murmured before he could stop himself, and he couldn't stop thinking the one thing that was the most painfully biased realization in this entire situation.
It was unfair. It was so, so terribly unfair.
He turned, now so that he could fully face him, his expression-- though guarded, still readable to a degree, the frustration, worry and sadness clear in his own eyes. Klavier was fighting this alone, facing this alone and it just. wasn't. fair to him. He'd already been through enough trouble, no thanks to the irony the City liked to provide them all-- poisons, of all things, and now this.
But then, he sighed, silent for a long while, his eyes closing, before he re-opened them and he cursed his inability to say the words that would comfort Klavier, assure him, help him. Instead, he thought on what the boy was saying, taking it in, before he raised his gaze back to him and spoke.
"Very well. We'll play it your way." He stated calmly. He watched him with a careful look now, because what he was going to do next was challenge what Klavier was deciding on. He couldn't afford to slip up now. And he steeled himself, as he began to speak.
"Klavier. I respect you and what you're trying to do, but..." his gaze hardened. "What if this gives him the advantage in accomplishing everything you've just claimed as a possibility for him to do?" He inhaled softly, and then continued. "And while it's quite clear that you are thinking of yourself first, I, for one, however, am not ready to give you up to him just yet. And I'm sure your friends, whoever are dearest to you, won't immediately understand the need for your distance." He paused, looking directly at the younger man, his words harsh, but needing desperately to wake the boy up. This was emotional suicide and he wanted Klavier to rethink this, to something that would gain him his truth, and reveal Kristoph's evil for what it was.
"Look at what his mere presence has done to you. You're afraid of speaking openly, being seen openly with your friends. You're going to pull away from them at the punishment of refusing to meet him... sooner or later, he'll catch on and draw you right back in and then there really won't be any turning back." His chest felt tight, but he knew Klavier needed to hear this. He had to...
Klavier's eyes narrowed slightly - and then all but flew open as Edgeworth continued to speak. Thinking of yourself first...
It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the change in him was apparent as he visibly drew back from Edgeworth. "Thinking of myself?" And his voice rises a little now, but he lapses in language - primarily because he doesn't trust himself not to be vulgar, though a part of it's subconscious as well. "Have you heard a fucking word I've said?! I'm not thinking of myself. I don't care what I have to go through. I want to keep him from hurting anyone else."
And that voice is frayed at its very edges, far from yelling, still, but quite a shocking display of anger from the generally even-tempered young prosecutor. "I can't just go back to him, but that's not because I'm frightened of him. It doesn't have anything to do with that. If I go back to him, if I speak to him, if I trust him, it gives him the opportunity to hurt others. If he hasn't committed the murder yet... if he hasn't done anything wrong... then yes, I'm losing a lot. I'll lose him. I'll lose him for his stupid mistakes, and I'll lose the last thing I had left in what used to be my perfect life. But if I do that, if that is the case, then I know -- I know that the others, that they will still see an end that they can live with.
But if he's lying -- if he's lying now -- if he's lying now, all he's going to do is formulate a new plan, do something that nobody will pick up on, and it's not going to hurt me, but you can be damn sure that it would be deadly for the others."
"Do you understand that? Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? I can't face him just because I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. If I was thinking of myself, I would already be with him. I wouldn't care whether he was lying or not, because I wouldn't have to stare at the most important person in my life while he rotted away on death row."
"I'm his brother. He's not going to do anything to harm me, and I know that. I fucking know that, but he'll want me close to him -- and if I get there I know that he won't be stupid enough to make his mistakes where I can see them for a second time. If he's lying, Herr Edgeworth, He's still going to want to punish the people that ruined his reputation -- and if we -- if I believe him, it's the only obstacle he'll have to overcome to get to them."
There it was. He had remained calm during what he said, mainly because he knew that keeping it in the way Klavier was doing so was only going to hurt them both, forget just one person alone. Edgeworth may have been selfless, but he wasn't Phoenix Wright from the time he knew. And he said things as they were-- not as how others wanted them to be. In turn, he expected the same sort of honesty directed at him, if there was enough trust to allow it.
But by this outburst, at least Klavier was making sure of what he wanted. That was what was important, before anything else. His eyes narrow in thought, and finally, the expression on his face becomes one of collected calm, though his blood is boiling. He knows and understands Klavier probably knows his brother better than any of them could hope to understand-- he knows that from what Klavier is saying, Kristoph Gavin has the mind of a sociopath. And his argument isn't to send Klavier back to him OR to give Kristoph the benefit of the doubt. Edgeworth's not that kind or trusting. Once bitten, twice shy-- maybe to a degree, he'd allow it, but not entirely, not even remotely close to how they were.
He doesn't reply to him, his eyes steely, hiding the sympathy he feels for the younger prosecutor. "I heard you the first time." He replies calmly. "And I know what you're trying to do. Don't think that I -want- you to go to him because as far as I am concerned, Klavier Gavin, you needn't see him for as long as you live. And you will be better for it."
And finally, he lets that mask drop, his gaze softer, but voice firm, wanting to drill this into Klavier's head before he made a mistake he would regret more than this. "You'll be there to protect others from him and his actions, but is it so wrong to want to be there for you? " That's all he'd been saying. And he keeps his voice calm throughout. Klavier might have been venting, but when he was done, he'd have to have some things, some direction to think on.
Rating; PG
Characters; Klavier Gavin [playitmyway] & Miles Edgeworth [objectedly]
Summary; After making sure things have calmed down around them, Edgeworth seeks out Klavier, though with a terrible sense of foreboding that everything they have worked so hard for and come so far with is slowly going to be shredded by the blades of the past... can friendship truly be the winner beyond the ties of time and family? [/omgdramaaaaaaaa]
Log;
He wasn't his babysitter.
That's all he knew he needed to tell himself, over and over again, and yet somehow his body decided it was going to betray him and follow-- yes, that's it, perhaps it was a curse that took control from people's bodies and made them wander around aimlessly until they reached-- Why did Gavin like coming down here at all? His thoughts came to a halt as he looked up at the bar that he hadn't looked in-- fortunately, there was a good difference between the overground and underground places, and there weren't too many places to worry about once you knew where to look. He sighed to himself, feeling a chill as he was allowed passage in after a couple passed through the doors, and he glanced up and around himself. A small establishment, possibly cheap and-- ah. There. He wouldn't miss that frame standing out from between this strange crowd even if he'd wanted to. Which was an odd thing in itself when he thought about just how much change Klavier had brought to him.
It was an oddly comfortable feeling that he didn't think was the right time to think on-- and adjusting the collar of his dark blazer, under which he wore a button down shirt and trousers, and surprise of all surprises, missing the ruffles (he'd grown used to not wearing the jabot outside of when he had to work at the office), he could actually pass off for a (possibly well-dressed) commoner. Sighing, as he ran his hand through his dark silver hair and stepped up to the side of where the younger man had seen fit to seat himself, he cast a careful glance over at him to ascertain that he had the right man. Once satisfied, he looked back ahead of himself and murmured, "I had to go through every bar in the Underground. You could have at least chosen one that had some light." His tone, however, was soft-- indicating that Klavier was more than welcome to ignore what he just said.
It seemed to take Klavier a few moments to realize that he was being addressed. That, or he just wasn't bothering to acknowledge it straight away - and when one took into account his penchant for picking out voices, the latter seemed the more plausible of the possibilities.
His posture wasn't quite what it had been, just a few days ago, and though his shoulders were slumped it didn't seem that much of the tension was gone from them, even with the aid of the drink he'd procured and been nursing disinterestedly for some time. He barely turned to regard Edgeworth when he finally replied - gaze sliding to rest upon him, though there wasn't much shift in position.
"I didn't feel like light."
And that was that. Klavier had left with a purpose in mind - and it wasn't to drink, not really - he wasn't the type to drown his sorrows in liquor. No, he'd just wanted some time alone - some time to mull over his thoughts in private, away from Machi and his friend, away from Edgeworth, away from whoever else would try to draw him out of that inevitable slump. He'd suspected that the other prosecutor would come looking, and so he'd tried to pick an inconvenient spot - one that would at least buy him some more time if he persisted, and one that he had some hope of being overlooked in.
So much for that.
"You didn't need to come here."
The older prosecutor didn't seem to look very deterred, if troubled at all by that seemingly considerate suggestion of where he chose to spend his time. Regardless of what Klavier might have thought of Edgeworth, Edgeworth knew-- and had long since gotten himself used to the fact that he considered Klavier Gavin a friend... just short of being a confidante. He wasn't quite there yet with anyone save with Franziska, and the only other person who worried after him selflessly was Detective Gumshoe. Phoenix on the other hand... it was complicated, especially after how they had eventually grown to be around each other.
He shook his head. None of them were here, and he knew his own status with the former rock star. That was what was important now. And it was for this reason alone that Miles Edgeworth ended up coming down here at all-- not only because he intended to follow in the footsteps of his companions by being considerate and caring for Klavier's slump (though, he had to confess, it wasn't a bad excuse were the boy not being so depressingly diva-esque about it...), but because frankly, this whole excess of gloom, despair and doom was detrimental to Klavier's sanity-- and, admittedly, his own.
Resting his arms against the sides of the counter, he glanced up and decided he wasn't going to have anything but water-- though even that, he was hesitant to have from the looks of this place alone. After a brief pause, he looked down at the counter's surface, and then replied honestly, "I wanted to." He left that at that, and glanced down at his hand, not facing the younger prosecutor for the while, giving him his space in that manner for now.
"You'll have to come back out sometime."
"When I know that I can without being pulled back into that again, maybe."
And he was bound to remain stubborn on that point - because for all Klavier now knew of Kristoph, he didn't intend to give him the chance to worm his way back into his life - back into what he'd just reclaimed as his own life for the first time in, as he'd discovered, years. He couldn't take the risk, not without knowing for certain what his brother had planned - if he had a plan at all.
It would be difficult, he knew - and while he'd come to trust Edgeworth in their time together he knew that even that was dangerous when it came down to Kristoph, and he knew that he needed to be as careful as he could with his relationships and how they came to be viewed.
"You'll understand if I don't make the best company for a while, ja?"
The question was a dry one, and he didn't really expect a reply. Edgeworth wasn't an idiot - and neither was Klavier, and he knew that he'd heard the whole conversation, that he knew what was being dealt with and how Klavier would want to manage it.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Here they were, two prosecutors from the same world, with quite possibly the most similar falls of fate that one could ever imagine for them-- and while Edgeworth had no need for the light in the beginning, there was Klavier who had only ever known it, and yet had been in darkness deeper than his own light could have allowed him freedom from. It opened Edgeworth's eyes to many things, the main ones being seen in the fact that he had spent far, far too long seeing the bad in everyone, clouded by the veil of forced perfection over his eyes. And it wasn't until Wright that he had begun to show him the things in the way he remembered his father would look at them that he'd realized he needed to wake up and not be the man raised by Manfred von Karma, but the human being born of Gregory Edgeworth, flawed and seeking the best path towards the truth that would give criminals what they deserved for their crimes.
And for Klavier, it was an oddly opposing situation-- he'd known nothing but the light. He'd believed-- and never had any reason to believe anything other than the fact that he -had- been right and the explanations earlier confirmed all of that. How similar, over and over again, to how Edgeworth would have once considered Manfred von Karma's word law and nothing less-- to how Klavier would have not questioned Kristoph Gavin.
And how, even now, Klavier was taking that path that would still attempt to make himself a sacrificial offering to keep his possibly deranged brother at bay.
A soft, almost tired chuckle escaped him at those words, and he drummed his fingers against the counter surface. "Seekers of good company don't enter the Underground, so I gather." He replied calmly, glancing up as his water glass with ice came in, and he stared at the tumbler apprehensively before pressing a finger to the frosty surface, feeling the cheap plastic crystallized texture beneath it.
"You did well, regardless. Telling him off before he could do anything at all." He then spoke softly, glancing at the ice cubes at the bottom of the glass. "But what exactly did you hope to gain by hiding away this way? He'd be a fool to try anything now, especially when you know what is to come, if what he's saying is really the truth." His voice became quieter as he turned his gaze, grey eyes focusing on the side of the younger man's head. "You're frightened of him, aren't you?"
"I'm frightened of what he's capable of."
That summed it up as best he could, really. Klavier wasn't afraid of Kristoph - not personally, no. Because he still believed, in that part of him that he was forcefully subduing, that had brought him to this place, that Kristoph would, at the very least, not hurt him. But then, if he knew what Klavier had done, and if he'd gone to such lengths to seek revenge for something even pettier...
Well, Klavier wasn't sure what he had to be afraid of. But he knew that one way or another, it all did stem from Kristoph - and whether it would be himself or his friends set in danger, it wasn't something he wanted to deal with.
".. If I don't see him, I keep my resolve, ja? I can't afford to lose that."
It was the truth. Without the knowledge of Kristoph's time - what he knew and what he didn't - what he could or could not have been planning - all Klavier had was the stubborn decision not to interact with him. It tore at him, truly, because in the end Kristoph was still the man he'd grown up with, looked up to, centered a large part of himself around.
Unfortunately, that didn't change what he'd become in the young prosecutor's mind.
"But if he can find me," and he laughed now, something dark and quiet and unbecoming of him, ".. then he will, whether he's doing it to hurt me or not."
It was rather troubling, and yet Edgeworth couldn't find it in himself to argue, the way Klavier was taking this. From all the people he had gotten to know in this City, Klavier Gavin was the one person who had not only earned his respect in a short period of time, but his trust-- and for those who knew how difficult that actually was, it might have come as a surprise that Miles Edgeworth was trusting someone like him at all. But it wasn't so much as the fact that he saw himself in Klavier-- they were as different in personality as the earth and sky, but their outlooks on so many things agreed, influenced by things that had happened with them, and more often than not ended up being the very things that helped them work so well with each other. He responded first, with a small chuckle in his throat, and he touched his fingers to the rim of his glass, absently turning it around in a circle as he murmured, "I suppose closing your eyes for a little while couldn't hurt in this case."
It was saddening, in a way, to see how the boy was resolving himself against a member of his family. That alone made this situation painful. While he'd found a sister in Franziska, they weren't kin. And Klavier, Klavier had a brother, his link to a real family. He wasn't saying that Klavier should have been grateful for what he did have, but that he should have at least been able to understand how Kristoph worked and be able to work around him. And he paused as he realized that he had followed-- down to that soft, un-Klavier-like sound that was some excuse of a laugh-- the boy's words, and found a chill settling in his chest.
To think that Klavier was so certain that his brother would seek him out with malicious intent. His expression grew strained for a moment, before he closed his eyes and then stared ahead of himself again. "And what if he doesn't, Klavier?" He asked, the countertop feeling warm against his palm. "What if, on supposition, what he claims is true? What if right now, you have the largest chance of changing all that has gone wrong?" He didn't quite believe Kristoph Gavin right now, but it stemmed from Klavier's fear. "The longer you hide, the lesser you'll be able to see him for who he really is. And I don't think that will get you any closer to the truth you need..."
He trailed off for a bit, sighing as he lowered his head. "... You would have the power to make that change now that he's in the City, if this is true. For all that he's done, he's still your brother." And here, he looked up at the younger prosecutor, his expression gentle, but serious. "But that's all this is, isn't it? An assumption that he may not be the brother you now know." As he continued to watch him, he noticed his face, the way he wore his hair, and it struck him, oddly enough, just how much of Kristoph Gavin still showed in Klavier.
And if he took himself back a few years before where Klavier was now, then he would see himself, dark-haired, decked in gold and magenta, in cuff linked sleeves, ready to punish criminals as they well belonged under an ideal of perfection and justice that meant nothing in finding the truth. Von Karma's trophy in his perfect revenge.
Just for that moment, he wondered how much of Klavier's perspective of truth had been warped since his last case. And it hurt to think on the fact that it might have been harmed enough to upset his own inner self-image.
"More to the point... why are you ready to punish yourself before him?" Edgeworth never beat around the bush and he finally asked what had been on his mind for a while. "What he did in your world was a misguided choice that rippled over into the lives of those who should have never been touched with it... you're better than that, Klavier." His voice remained steady. "And you can't let him even gain the possibility of a chance where he could hurt you, using others again."
"Because I have to."
It was now that he turned to look at Edgeworth, that stubbornness readily playing in his gaze, again. Whatever sadness there was, there had been, was overridden in that moment, that instant where the look turned to something close to anger but that couldn't quite reach it, leaving it marked at resolution.
He didn't know why it was so hard to understand. He had explained it, hadn't he? Kristoph was poisonous. He was something that couldn't be trusted, couldn't be allowed to sink his fangs in, because that venom was quick-acting and paralyzing all in one, but the warmth of it was an addiction and it was something that you couldn't simply slip out of if you'd gotten so much as a taste.
And for all that he knew, this Kristoph was the brother he'd known - he'd hoped to know - and for all he knew there was a chance at saving him, and that was the punishment, wasn't it, because there was no way of knowing - there was no way to be sure.
"I see him for what he is, now. I have to see him for what I know him to be, because if I don't - if on that off chance, this isn't a lie - even if I could save him - if I'm wrong, I can't turn back. If I'm wrong, I won't know to turn back, because I won't have the opportunity. He won't-"
And he had to stop to take a breath, because even now that blackness that Kristoph had left within him still tugged at his chest, still weighted his heart so profoundly that it hurt to admit what he recognized as the truth.
" -- he won't falter, if he's lying. He'll let this be, pretend it never happened - und he'll go on, und seek the retribution that he could have had without the same errors he made the last time. If I give him the benefit of the doubt - if I face him the way he is now, then he'll have that possibility, Herr Edgeworth. It comes down to the vague possibility of changing what I know to be a just end... or risking demolishing it altogether and losing far more, in the process."
It wasn't so much as the fact that it was hard to understand, than the fact that he did understand and felt that there were other ways to work around it and that resolution in his voice made his fingers twitch ever so slightly. And then he saw it-- that flicker of unsurity and desperation that made Edgeworth's heart sink in his chest. Did Klavier even want this at all? Was he just trying to convince himself that this and no other way were the only ways to solve anything in this situation?
"Klavier..." The name was murmured before he could stop himself, and he couldn't stop thinking the one thing that was the most painfully biased realization in this entire situation.
It was unfair. It was so, so terribly unfair.
He turned, now so that he could fully face him, his expression-- though guarded, still readable to a degree, the frustration, worry and sadness clear in his own eyes. Klavier was fighting this alone, facing this alone and it just. wasn't. fair to him. He'd already been through enough trouble, no thanks to the irony the City liked to provide them all-- poisons, of all things, and now this.
But then, he sighed, silent for a long while, his eyes closing, before he re-opened them and he cursed his inability to say the words that would comfort Klavier, assure him, help him. Instead, he thought on what the boy was saying, taking it in, before he raised his gaze back to him and spoke.
"Very well. We'll play it your way." He stated calmly. He watched him with a careful look now, because what he was going to do next was challenge what Klavier was deciding on. He couldn't afford to slip up now. And he steeled himself, as he began to speak.
"Klavier. I respect you and what you're trying to do, but..." his gaze hardened. "What if this gives him the advantage in accomplishing everything you've just claimed as a possibility for him to do?" He inhaled softly, and then continued. "And while it's quite clear that you are thinking of yourself first, I, for one, however, am not ready to give you up to him just yet. And I'm sure your friends, whoever are dearest to you, won't immediately understand the need for your distance." He paused, looking directly at the younger man, his words harsh, but needing desperately to wake the boy up. This was emotional suicide and he wanted Klavier to rethink this, to something that would gain him his truth, and reveal Kristoph's evil for what it was.
"Look at what his mere presence has done to you. You're afraid of speaking openly, being seen openly with your friends. You're going to pull away from them at the punishment of refusing to meet him... sooner or later, he'll catch on and draw you right back in and then there really won't be any turning back." His chest felt tight, but he knew Klavier needed to hear this. He had to...
Klavier's eyes narrowed slightly - and then all but flew open as Edgeworth continued to speak. Thinking of yourself first...
It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the change in him was apparent as he visibly drew back from Edgeworth. "Thinking of myself?" And his voice rises a little now, but he lapses in language - primarily because he doesn't trust himself not to be vulgar, though a part of it's subconscious as well. "Have you heard a fucking word I've said?! I'm not thinking of myself. I don't care what I have to go through. I want to keep him from hurting anyone else."
And that voice is frayed at its very edges, far from yelling, still, but quite a shocking display of anger from the generally even-tempered young prosecutor. "I can't just go back to him, but that's not because I'm frightened of him. It doesn't have anything to do with that. If I go back to him, if I speak to him, if I trust him, it gives him the opportunity to hurt others. If he hasn't committed the murder yet... if he hasn't done anything wrong... then yes, I'm losing a lot. I'll lose him. I'll lose him for his stupid mistakes, and I'll lose the last thing I had left in what used to be my perfect life. But if I do that, if that is the case, then I know -- I know that the others, that they will still see an end that they can live with.
But if he's lying -- if he's lying now -- if he's lying now, all he's going to do is formulate a new plan, do something that nobody will pick up on, and it's not going to hurt me, but you can be damn sure that it would be deadly for the others."
"Do you understand that? Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you? I can't face him just because I want to give him the benefit of the doubt. If I was thinking of myself, I would already be with him. I wouldn't care whether he was lying or not, because I wouldn't have to stare at the most important person in my life while he rotted away on death row."
"I'm his brother. He's not going to do anything to harm me, and I know that. I fucking know that, but he'll want me close to him -- and if I get there I know that he won't be stupid enough to make his mistakes where I can see them for a second time. If he's lying, Herr Edgeworth, He's still going to want to punish the people that ruined his reputation -- and if we -- if I believe him, it's the only obstacle he'll have to overcome to get to them."
There it was. He had remained calm during what he said, mainly because he knew that keeping it in the way Klavier was doing so was only going to hurt them both, forget just one person alone. Edgeworth may have been selfless, but he wasn't Phoenix Wright from the time he knew. And he said things as they were-- not as how others wanted them to be. In turn, he expected the same sort of honesty directed at him, if there was enough trust to allow it.
But by this outburst, at least Klavier was making sure of what he wanted. That was what was important, before anything else. His eyes narrow in thought, and finally, the expression on his face becomes one of collected calm, though his blood is boiling. He knows and understands Klavier probably knows his brother better than any of them could hope to understand-- he knows that from what Klavier is saying, Kristoph Gavin has the mind of a sociopath. And his argument isn't to send Klavier back to him OR to give Kristoph the benefit of the doubt. Edgeworth's not that kind or trusting. Once bitten, twice shy-- maybe to a degree, he'd allow it, but not entirely, not even remotely close to how they were.
He doesn't reply to him, his eyes steely, hiding the sympathy he feels for the younger prosecutor. "I heard you the first time." He replies calmly. "And I know what you're trying to do. Don't think that I -want- you to go to him because as far as I am concerned, Klavier Gavin, you needn't see him for as long as you live. And you will be better for it."
And finally, he lets that mask drop, his gaze softer, but voice firm, wanting to drill this into Klavier's head before he made a mistake he would regret more than this. "You'll be there to protect others from him and his actions, but is it so wrong to want to be there for you? " That's all he'd been saying. And he keeps his voice calm throughout. Klavier might have been venting, but when he was done, he'd have to have some things, some direction to think on.