[Fanfiction] Damaged
Title: Damaged
Rating: PG-13 for angst and character death
Pairing: None
Summary/Prompt: Klavier realizes that his life is falling apart. His brother, who he's admired greatly, turns out to be a sociopathic murderer. His best friend is a smuggler and killer. His pride and joy, the Gavinners, is over with. And it's all too much, and he totally loses it.
I want someone to be there for him. Apollo, Trucy, Ema, hell, even Phoenix. Whoever Anon would like, to try and help him and get him back together. Would prefer it be gen, and not shippy.
And what I'd really love is if the person thinks they helped, and then Klav commits suicide and mega guilt-trip for whoever tried to help him. But I understand if Anon wants a happy ending, so it's okay if it ends up working out after all.
Author's Notes: I just had to write an alternate ending for this. D:
It was all over the tabloids, and the way he was acting wasn't helping matters any.
'Former Rock God Crumbles' 'Gavin's Outbursts Further Inquiries' 'Prosecutor Suspended After Brawl Outside Courthouse' 'Gavinners' Popularity Sinking Fast'
Klavier couldn't help it. Every time someone insulted him or Kristoph, he just couldn't bear it. Sure, he wasn't exactly close to Kristoph, but family was family. He had to appear in front of a committee next month to explain his actions, and for now he was suspended without pay. Not that he needed the money, but the media just came after him more. He had let his temper get away from him, and now he was paying the price.
---
“Mr. Gavin. Mr. Gavin. Oh, open up, you glimmerous fop!” Ema huffed. She had been standing here, in front of the door of Klavier's apartment, for about five minutes. No one had seen him in three days, which was strange, because usually the fop couldn't go more than a few hours without attracting some sort of media attention.
She was about to turn away when the door cracked open, a bedraggled-looking figure standing in the doorway. When he spoke, she almost recoiled, because his voice was lacking his usual cheer and energy. In fact, it sounded cracked and half-dead. “What is it, Fräulein Detective?”
Ema frowned and shoved her foot in the door, forcing herself inside. The place was a mess, with papers strewn all over and a plate of half-eaten toast left on the table. “Mr. Gavin. No one's seen you for days, and some people in the office are really getting concerned.”
Klavier laughed softly, a sound that was almost unsettling with how flat it was. “I'm not needed in the office. No one wants to work with someone who's unstable, ja?”
“Objection!” She scowled. “You're not unstable.”
“Overruled. I got into a fistfight outside the courthouse.”
“You're under a lot of stress.”
“That doesn't excuse what I did.”
“With what you're going through, it's understa -”
“Understandable?!” Klavier's face showed emotion for the first time that visit, looking suddenly livid. “Oh, ja, I forgot, all of this is perfectly understandable! My brother's twice a murderer and on Death Row, my best friend is a murderer as well, my band's fallen apart, my fans are abandoning me, I can't prosecute, I can't seem to do anything... ja, Fräulein, I forgot, there are so many who have gone through the same thing that it's so perfectly understandable.”
Ema was taken aback. “... Well. When you put it that way...”
Klavier sighed, and walked over to a chair, putting his head in his hands. His shoulders shook, and it took Ema a moment to realize what was going on.
“... Mr. Gavin... don't cry.”
“A lawyer can only cry when it's all over. I heard that somewhere. Well. It's all over, isn't it?”
“... No. No it's not.” Ema went over to him and patted him on the back. “Come on, Mr. Gavin... get up and wash your face. You look like a mess. Then we're going to go talk to someone.”
“... Can't imagine who this could be, Fräulein, but all right.”
---
Klavier had walked along without much protesting, following Ema quietly to her car and saying nothing while they drove to... somewhere. It was different, seeing the world from inside a car as opposed to the limited view from inside a motorcycle helmet. Not that he was taking in much of it.
“Mr. Gavin, when was the last time you left your apartment?”
“Two and a half days ago.”
“...” Ema bit her lip and drove on, obviously trying not to say something sarcastic. She hated seeing Klavier like this, all quiet and subdued and just not Klavier Gavin. He hadn't even protested, which was strange. From what she could remember, Klavier had been a whirlwind of energy just a week before... was that an act? He was a performer, after all.
Finally, they arrived at the apartment building, and Ema marched Klavier up the stairs and to a door on the third level. She knocked, and waited for an answer.
... To his credit, Klavier didn't even flinch when he saw who was in the doorway, though the other person did.
“Prosecutor Gavin, what are you doing here?” Phoenix blinked in surprise, and looked over at Ema, who was rolling her eyes meaningfully. “... Come in, I guess.” He led the two into the living room, where he motioned for them to sit. “Can I get you anything? Water, soda, iced tea?”
Klavier took a deep breath, and looked up at Phoenix. The older man was surprised to see just how faded Klavier looked. “Some coffee, if you have it, please.”
Phoenix chuckled. “Yeah, I have some. I started drinking it after one of my cases. It'll just be a minute.” He disappeared into the kitchen area, leaving Ema to shake her head and prod Klavier in the shoulder. “Mr. Gavin...” Klavier didn't respond, didn't even glance at her, just sat there with his hands clasped together, leaning forward, his entire posture one of someone who had just given up.
Nothing happened for a few minutes, until Phoenix came back with a mug of coffee and handed it to Klavier. The prosecutor's lips quirked as if he were trying to smile at the sight of a purple mug - not a color he would have expected from the other man. Klavier took a long drink, and Ema stood, motioning for Phoenix to follow her into the next room.
“Ema, what's this all about?” Phoenix didn't sound angry, he sounded more... confused, than anything.
“I thought that he should talk to someone.” Ema put her hands on her hips.
“So you picked me?”
“... You were the best person I could think of who wouldn't judge him?”
“I...” Phoenix put a hand to his forehead and took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say?”
“Oh god, I don't know. Reassure him that it's not his fault? The guy's pretty broken up about it. I don't know what to do with him.” Ema sighed. “He's not taking care of himself at all. I saw his guitar in the corner of his apartment, it looked like it hadn't been touched in weeks. You used to be good at cheering up people.”
“Used to be.”
“I don't know, play cards with him or something?” Ema looked almost exasperated at this point. “I don't want to have someone babysit him until his hearing.”
“... All right, all right. I'll try.” Phoenix chuckled. “I can't promise how much good it'll do, but I'll try.”
---
They kept it up for about a week. Klavier would come over - and he started driving himself after the second day - and he and Phoenix would play cards. Never poker - that held too many memories for both of them, most of them not good. Go Fish, and War, and Hearts, and once or twice Slapjack were the types of games they tried. They wouldn't talk much - Phoenix could tell that Klavier wasn't up to it - and would sometimes go through an hour or so of saying nothing that wasn't related to the game at hand.
On the sixth day, after a particularly brutal game of Go Fish that ended with Klavier barely eking out a victory over Phoenix, the prosecutor laughed. Phoenix was taken aback - he hadn't heard Klavier laugh all week.
“You all right, Klavier?”
“Ja, ja, Herr Wright, I'm fine. Just... I am relieved.” Klavier sat back and smiled.
Phoenix looked confused. “Relieved? How come?”
“I thought no one cared about me. Honestly, I didn't expect you to care about me at all. I took away your badge, after all.”
The older man sighed. “I can't be sore over that anymore. It wasn't your fault. You were just doing what you thought was right.” Phoenix scratched his neck. “You're a good kid, really.”
Klavier chuckled and shook his head. There was something else there, Phoenix could tell, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. “Danke. I mean it. That means a lot to me.”
---
Phoenix's cell phone rang, and he yawned as he picked it up. “Ema? It's four in the morning...”
“Mr. Wright... come over here. It's... it's Klavier.” He sat bolt upright as he registered two things - one, Ema sounded like she had been crying. Two, Ema never called Klavier by his first name.
“I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me the address.”
---
The door was open when he got there, which was never a good sign. There were a few police officers milling around, looking highly uncomfortable, which was an even worse sign.
“Ema? Are you in here?” Phoenix called out.
“In the bedroom, Mr. Wright...” She sounded, if possible, worse than before. He looked around and eventually found the bedroom. He stopped short when he saw what was inside.
Ema was standing there, near the bed, holding up a piece of paper with tweezers. And a...
A body bag.
Phoenix leaned against the door frame. “What... what happened?”
Ema turned to look at Phoenix, her eyes red, as if she had been crying. “Suicide. We have to get it to the lab, but... it looks like poison. And we found s... something on his bedside table.” She pointed to it.
His heart sank. “Is that a... nail polish bottle?”
“... Yes. We think he took it from the evidence locker. And there's a... a note.” She slipped it into a plastic bag and passed it to Phoenix.
He swallowed hard, and looked at what it said.
'Will be the last thing he expects. Deserves it for what he did. Maybe he'll feel like I did.'
Then, in a much more rushed and untidy script:
'Probably not but it's too late now. God I'm sorry can you forgive me?'
Phoenix handed it back to Ema, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Ema... I'm sorry.”
“... Me too.”
Phoenix's cell phone rang, and he yawned as he picked it up. “Ema? It's four in the morning...”
“Mr. Wright... come over here. It's... it's Klavier.” He sat bolt upright as he registered two things - one, Ema sounded like she had been crying. Two, Ema never called Klavier by his first name.
“I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me the address.”
---
He had gotten to the hospital as fast as he could. The front desk hadn't wanted to let him through, but one of the officers had recognized him and gave him permission.
The room was too clean, too sterile. Klavier was hooked up to machines that beeped and displayed readouts he didn't want to have to see. Klavier himself was far too pale, and didn't seem to be moving at all.
“Is he...”
Ema turned and looked at Phoenix. “No. He's alive, but just barely. We found... a nail polish bottle, and a note.”
“He tried to kill himself.”
“... Yes.” Her voice was soft, and she looked at her hands. “I just don't know why. He has so much to live for.”
Phoenix sighed and sat down in another chair. “You can't always reason with these people. They're scared. And... Klavier's pretty lonely, isn't he?”
“Yeah. But... I tried... dammit, he can't die. I have to yell at him for making me work overtime.” Ema smiled a little.
There was the sound of something shifting, and both of them looked up. Klavier had shifted slightly, and then rolled back to his original position.
Phoenix and Ema looked at each other, and Phoenix smiled. “See?”
---
It took four days for Klavier to wake up fully, and another two for the doctors to be satisfied with all of his vital signs. The day he was being released, Ema marched up to him and slapped him.
“That's for making me worry about you, you glimmerous fop!” But she was smiling despite her words.
Phoenix wheeled Klavier down the hall. “You're going to be staying with me for a while, Klavier. Just until we're sure you're better.”
“I know. Danke. I... I am sorry.”
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me too. Just don't do it again, it's a pain in the butt.”
“... It didn't work the first time. I don't want to try it again. Hurts too much.”
The older man smirked. “Good. It's supposed to. Now let's get you home before Trucy turns your bed into a flock of birds... or something.”
Klavier laughed.
Rating: PG-13 for angst and character death
Pairing: None
Summary/Prompt: Klavier realizes that his life is falling apart. His brother, who he's admired greatly, turns out to be a sociopathic murderer. His best friend is a smuggler and killer. His pride and joy, the Gavinners, is over with. And it's all too much, and he totally loses it.
I want someone to be there for him. Apollo, Trucy, Ema, hell, even Phoenix. Whoever Anon would like, to try and help him and get him back together. Would prefer it be gen, and not shippy.
And what I'd really love is if the person thinks they helped, and then Klav commits suicide and mega guilt-trip for whoever tried to help him. But I understand if Anon wants a happy ending, so it's okay if it ends up working out after all.
Author's Notes: I just had to write an alternate ending for this. D:
It was all over the tabloids, and the way he was acting wasn't helping matters any.
'Former Rock God Crumbles' 'Gavin's Outbursts Further Inquiries' 'Prosecutor Suspended After Brawl Outside Courthouse' 'Gavinners' Popularity Sinking Fast'
Klavier couldn't help it. Every time someone insulted him or Kristoph, he just couldn't bear it. Sure, he wasn't exactly close to Kristoph, but family was family. He had to appear in front of a committee next month to explain his actions, and for now he was suspended without pay. Not that he needed the money, but the media just came after him more. He had let his temper get away from him, and now he was paying the price.
---
“Mr. Gavin. Mr. Gavin. Oh, open up, you glimmerous fop!” Ema huffed. She had been standing here, in front of the door of Klavier's apartment, for about five minutes. No one had seen him in three days, which was strange, because usually the fop couldn't go more than a few hours without attracting some sort of media attention.
She was about to turn away when the door cracked open, a bedraggled-looking figure standing in the doorway. When he spoke, she almost recoiled, because his voice was lacking his usual cheer and energy. In fact, it sounded cracked and half-dead. “What is it, Fräulein Detective?”
Ema frowned and shoved her foot in the door, forcing herself inside. The place was a mess, with papers strewn all over and a plate of half-eaten toast left on the table. “Mr. Gavin. No one's seen you for days, and some people in the office are really getting concerned.”
Klavier laughed softly, a sound that was almost unsettling with how flat it was. “I'm not needed in the office. No one wants to work with someone who's unstable, ja?”
“Objection!” She scowled. “You're not unstable.”
“Overruled. I got into a fistfight outside the courthouse.”
“You're under a lot of stress.”
“That doesn't excuse what I did.”
“With what you're going through, it's understa -”
“Understandable?!” Klavier's face showed emotion for the first time that visit, looking suddenly livid. “Oh, ja, I forgot, all of this is perfectly understandable! My brother's twice a murderer and on Death Row, my best friend is a murderer as well, my band's fallen apart, my fans are abandoning me, I can't prosecute, I can't seem to do anything... ja, Fräulein, I forgot, there are so many who have gone through the same thing that it's so perfectly understandable.”
Ema was taken aback. “... Well. When you put it that way...”
Klavier sighed, and walked over to a chair, putting his head in his hands. His shoulders shook, and it took Ema a moment to realize what was going on.
“... Mr. Gavin... don't cry.”
“A lawyer can only cry when it's all over. I heard that somewhere. Well. It's all over, isn't it?”
“... No. No it's not.” Ema went over to him and patted him on the back. “Come on, Mr. Gavin... get up and wash your face. You look like a mess. Then we're going to go talk to someone.”
“... Can't imagine who this could be, Fräulein, but all right.”
---
Klavier had walked along without much protesting, following Ema quietly to her car and saying nothing while they drove to... somewhere. It was different, seeing the world from inside a car as opposed to the limited view from inside a motorcycle helmet. Not that he was taking in much of it.
“Mr. Gavin, when was the last time you left your apartment?”
“Two and a half days ago.”
“...” Ema bit her lip and drove on, obviously trying not to say something sarcastic. She hated seeing Klavier like this, all quiet and subdued and just not Klavier Gavin. He hadn't even protested, which was strange. From what she could remember, Klavier had been a whirlwind of energy just a week before... was that an act? He was a performer, after all.
Finally, they arrived at the apartment building, and Ema marched Klavier up the stairs and to a door on the third level. She knocked, and waited for an answer.
... To his credit, Klavier didn't even flinch when he saw who was in the doorway, though the other person did.
“Prosecutor Gavin, what are you doing here?” Phoenix blinked in surprise, and looked over at Ema, who was rolling her eyes meaningfully. “... Come in, I guess.” He led the two into the living room, where he motioned for them to sit. “Can I get you anything? Water, soda, iced tea?”
Klavier took a deep breath, and looked up at Phoenix. The older man was surprised to see just how faded Klavier looked. “Some coffee, if you have it, please.”
Phoenix chuckled. “Yeah, I have some. I started drinking it after one of my cases. It'll just be a minute.” He disappeared into the kitchen area, leaving Ema to shake her head and prod Klavier in the shoulder. “Mr. Gavin...” Klavier didn't respond, didn't even glance at her, just sat there with his hands clasped together, leaning forward, his entire posture one of someone who had just given up.
Nothing happened for a few minutes, until Phoenix came back with a mug of coffee and handed it to Klavier. The prosecutor's lips quirked as if he were trying to smile at the sight of a purple mug - not a color he would have expected from the other man. Klavier took a long drink, and Ema stood, motioning for Phoenix to follow her into the next room.
“Ema, what's this all about?” Phoenix didn't sound angry, he sounded more... confused, than anything.
“I thought that he should talk to someone.” Ema put her hands on her hips.
“So you picked me?”
“... You were the best person I could think of who wouldn't judge him?”
“I...” Phoenix put a hand to his forehead and took a deep breath. “What do you want me to say?”
“Oh god, I don't know. Reassure him that it's not his fault? The guy's pretty broken up about it. I don't know what to do with him.” Ema sighed. “He's not taking care of himself at all. I saw his guitar in the corner of his apartment, it looked like it hadn't been touched in weeks. You used to be good at cheering up people.”
“Used to be.”
“I don't know, play cards with him or something?” Ema looked almost exasperated at this point. “I don't want to have someone babysit him until his hearing.”
“... All right, all right. I'll try.” Phoenix chuckled. “I can't promise how much good it'll do, but I'll try.”
---
They kept it up for about a week. Klavier would come over - and he started driving himself after the second day - and he and Phoenix would play cards. Never poker - that held too many memories for both of them, most of them not good. Go Fish, and War, and Hearts, and once or twice Slapjack were the types of games they tried. They wouldn't talk much - Phoenix could tell that Klavier wasn't up to it - and would sometimes go through an hour or so of saying nothing that wasn't related to the game at hand.
On the sixth day, after a particularly brutal game of Go Fish that ended with Klavier barely eking out a victory over Phoenix, the prosecutor laughed. Phoenix was taken aback - he hadn't heard Klavier laugh all week.
“You all right, Klavier?”
“Ja, ja, Herr Wright, I'm fine. Just... I am relieved.” Klavier sat back and smiled.
Phoenix looked confused. “Relieved? How come?”
“I thought no one cared about me. Honestly, I didn't expect you to care about me at all. I took away your badge, after all.”
The older man sighed. “I can't be sore over that anymore. It wasn't your fault. You were just doing what you thought was right.” Phoenix scratched his neck. “You're a good kid, really.”
Klavier chuckled and shook his head. There was something else there, Phoenix could tell, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was. “Danke. I mean it. That means a lot to me.”
---
Phoenix's cell phone rang, and he yawned as he picked it up. “Ema? It's four in the morning...”
“Mr. Wright... come over here. It's... it's Klavier.” He sat bolt upright as he registered two things - one, Ema sounded like she had been crying. Two, Ema never called Klavier by his first name.
“I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me the address.”
---
The door was open when he got there, which was never a good sign. There were a few police officers milling around, looking highly uncomfortable, which was an even worse sign.
“Ema? Are you in here?” Phoenix called out.
“In the bedroom, Mr. Wright...” She sounded, if possible, worse than before. He looked around and eventually found the bedroom. He stopped short when he saw what was inside.
Ema was standing there, near the bed, holding up a piece of paper with tweezers. And a...
A body bag.
Phoenix leaned against the door frame. “What... what happened?”
Ema turned to look at Phoenix, her eyes red, as if she had been crying. “Suicide. We have to get it to the lab, but... it looks like poison. And we found s... something on his bedside table.” She pointed to it.
His heart sank. “Is that a... nail polish bottle?”
“... Yes. We think he took it from the evidence locker. And there's a... a note.” She slipped it into a plastic bag and passed it to Phoenix.
He swallowed hard, and looked at what it said.
'Will be the last thing he expects. Deserves it for what he did. Maybe he'll feel like I did.'
Then, in a much more rushed and untidy script:
'Probably not but it's too late now. God I'm sorry can you forgive me?'
Phoenix handed it back to Ema, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Ema... I'm sorry.”
“... Me too.”
Phoenix's cell phone rang, and he yawned as he picked it up. “Ema? It's four in the morning...”
“Mr. Wright... come over here. It's... it's Klavier.” He sat bolt upright as he registered two things - one, Ema sounded like she had been crying. Two, Ema never called Klavier by his first name.
“I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me the address.”
---
He had gotten to the hospital as fast as he could. The front desk hadn't wanted to let him through, but one of the officers had recognized him and gave him permission.
The room was too clean, too sterile. Klavier was hooked up to machines that beeped and displayed readouts he didn't want to have to see. Klavier himself was far too pale, and didn't seem to be moving at all.
“Is he...”
Ema turned and looked at Phoenix. “No. He's alive, but just barely. We found... a nail polish bottle, and a note.”
“He tried to kill himself.”
“... Yes.” Her voice was soft, and she looked at her hands. “I just don't know why. He has so much to live for.”
Phoenix sighed and sat down in another chair. “You can't always reason with these people. They're scared. And... Klavier's pretty lonely, isn't he?”
“Yeah. But... I tried... dammit, he can't die. I have to yell at him for making me work overtime.” Ema smiled a little.
There was the sound of something shifting, and both of them looked up. Klavier had shifted slightly, and then rolled back to his original position.
Phoenix and Ema looked at each other, and Phoenix smiled. “See?”
---
It took four days for Klavier to wake up fully, and another two for the doctors to be satisfied with all of his vital signs. The day he was being released, Ema marched up to him and slapped him.
“That's for making me worry about you, you glimmerous fop!” But she was smiling despite her words.
Phoenix wheeled Klavier down the hall. “You're going to be staying with me for a while, Klavier. Just until we're sure you're better.”
“I know. Danke. I... I am sorry.”
Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me too. Just don't do it again, it's a pain in the butt.”
“... It didn't work the first time. I don't want to try it again. Hurts too much.”
The older man smirked. “Good. It's supposed to. Now let's get you home before Trucy turns your bed into a flock of birds... or something.”
Klavier laughed.