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mllelaurelFandom: Ace Attorney
Title: Way Stations of the Heart
Characters: Apollo Justice, Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, Phoenix Wright, ensemble.
Pairings: Klavier/Apollo, Phoenix/Edgeworth, past Phoenix/Kristoph and Klavier/Daryan
Rating: M
Warnings: Sexual references, and some violence (I can't tell where the graphic vs. non-graphic violence line lies, unless, like, people's guts are falling out.) Prevalent themes of emotional abuse, gaslighting and general creepiness. Major character death, right at the start.
Summary: Klavier thought he’d grown used to dealing with the deaths of people he loved, even Kristoph’s execution, but nothing could have prepared him for his brother’s voice inside his mind, or the inexorable loss of control over his own life.
In which there is possession, journeys to the center of the mind, too many close calls, and a love confession or two.
What do you want, Kristoph? If he closed his eyes- No, he couldn’t actually do that, could he? If he tuned out the world, he could almost pretend this was a normal conversation. Something like the last time they talked, with Kristoph leaning back in his chair and Klavier pressed up against the bars, to feel closer to him.
He was the one behind bars now, metaphorical though they were, situations reversed.
What do I want? Kristoph laughed, crisp and empty. I want my life back, of course.
Memories flickered across Klavier’s mind. Kristoph had known exactly where every single one of his cell’s security cameras were, had learned each guard’s disposition and bribed the ones he could into better ones.
Seeking out some semblance of control, where he’d had none.
He felt something like a nod, inside his head. To reach freedom, one must first have control. But that was out of my reach, no matter how hard I tried. Did you know, prison food is terrible?
Unglaublich! You and Daryan finally have something you both agree on. He always complained about it, too.
Oh, I think your wingman and I have a great deal more in common than that. We’d both loved you, and you tossed us aside, like so much trash. Granted, Crescend was petty trash.
Are you even capable of loving anyone? Klavier snapped.
“What are you mumbling on about?” A new voice interrupted his… whatever this was. A real voice, one belonging to Ema Skye.
“Ah, Fraulein Detective. Have you come to console me in my hour of need?”
Kris, your impression of me sucks. That’s actually really creepy. I’m not creepy, I’m charming.
Ema made a face. “God, you never quit, do you?” She threw up her hands, tossing a stack of paperwork into his face in the process. “Why do I even bother?”
Oh? Would you like me to actually try?
A head shake. “Forgive me. Call it a cross between force of habit and a coping mechanism, if you will.”
The pity ploy? Really?
Ema’s eyes flicked over his face, worried or appraising, Klavier couldn’t tell. “Whatever. Boss said you’re supposed to be on vacation, effective immediately. You should get your ass out of here, before he changes his mind.”
Kristoph gathered some papers up off the desk, shuffling them into a briefcase. “Ja, that’s the plan. Would you care to join me?”
“Hey, some of us still have jobs, fop.”
“I still have a job!” Kristoph protested, and that? That actually sounded like something Klavier might have said, under the circumstances. He was getting better at it. Fuck.
Isn’t it lovely, you questioning my ability to care for someone, when you can’t even get a washed-up forensics flunky to give you the time of day.
Leave her alone, Kris!
Or you’ll what? Whine at me some more? An exaggerated sigh. Oh, stop quaking. She’s hardly to my taste, anyway.
Your taste is irrelevant!
Is it? You’re not exactly calling the shots, right now, in case you haven’t noticed.
What. Do. You. Want, Kristoph? If Klavier knew what his goals and plans were, he could… What? Counteract them, with Kristoph reading his every thought?
In the outside world, Ema shook her head. “Well, I’m going back to work, and you’re getting the hell out of here. I mean it.”
She cares for you, after all. Isn’t that sweet?
Klavier snorted. Didn’t you just say she couldn’t care less. Being dead’s done a number on your consistency.
And whose fault is that? Kristoph mused. Whose fault is it that I died?
His feet were walking toward the exit now, taking him outside. Do you know what dying feels like, Klavier?
How could I…
Kristoph’s smile felt mild, almost warm. Would you like to see?
Metal restraints cold around his wrists, but that was nothing new. The air stank of vomit and disinfectant. His jacket had been removed, shirt sleeve rolled up, leaving his arm bare.
Figures, on the other side of the glass, nothing but a blur of black suits, at first. He wished he could have kept his glasses.
No, he didn’t need to see, to know who was there. Even nearsighted, he could spot Apollo’s distinctive spikes. So, the boy mourned for him. It was sweet, in its own way. The man next to his erstwhile apprentice must have been Wright. Just another face in the crowd, Kristoph wanted to tell him. Nothing to set you apart from the rest. You’re nothing special.
So, why this man? How could he have been defeated by that?
And last but not least, a shock of gold in a sea of brown. Klavier. His brother’s presence churned in his gut. Left him unable to name just what he was feeling, seeing him there.
He hadn’t thought Klavier would come.
Of course I-
That’s not what you said, back then. He’d been angry. Screamed at the man behind bars, heedless of the looks the guards gave him. ‘Enough. I’m done with you.’
It seems you’re not done with me, after all.
The technician found his vein easily enough. He knew what was coming, and he was far too good of an actor to show fear, especially in front of an audience such as this. He closed his eyes before the anesthetic hit, counted to ten, and waited as it lulled him to sleep.
That wasn’t too bad. Klavier hated himself a little, for the relief he felt, at that revelation.
Wait for it.
His body felt no pain, and if it did, it never got the chance to transmit those signals. Still, he knew the exact moment when he died. It was like something had hooked its fingers under the skin of his face and ripped, till it tore loose from flesh and sinew. His world was a tilt-a-whirl of darkness, with swirling pools of light, just out of reach. The living, each still anchored to their bodies. And one in particular, flickering and beckoning to him. Calling him home.
Blood calls to blood, and grief calls to grief. You invited me, Klavier. Is it my fault I chose to accept the invitation?
I knew you were scared, Klavier said. Your acting’s not actually all that good. He felt cold, whichever part of him still felt. Couldn’t shake the memory, though it wasn’t his.
A sensation, something like a hand, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as though he were a child who’d just had a nightmare. Kristoph ignored his jibe. See? It really was just like going to sleep. And now, it’s your turn. His vision clouded, and he felt reality grow more distant. He didn’t disappear, but he did fade. He might even have called it sleeping.
***
Klavier didn’t know how much time had passed, before he ‘woke up,’ again. Days, perhaps. His two weeks of enforced ‘vacation’ didn’t seem to be up, so at least there was that.
Kristoph had been busy. The money from his bank account had been transferred to several different accounts, overseas.
Could you be any more of a cliche?
Just because scam artists and movie spies do it, that doesn’t make it impractical.
Some of Klavier’s money had been transferred as well, though enough remained, in easy reach. Enough that Kristoph could help himself to whatever parts of Klavier’s life he needed, no matter where he was.
Oh, and one more thing. Apollo seems to be worried about you. I’ve done my best to calm him down, of course.
Klavier could almost feel his heart knocking dully against his ribcage. Stay the hell away from him, Kris.
You’re telling me to stay away from my own apprentice?
‘I saw him first’ isn’t a real retort. Not unless you’re five. And you’re not fit to be around anyone.
Technically, I saw him last. Since you’ve been napping on the job, and all. He seemed quite taken with my- I mean your- idea of going into defense.
Don’t tell me he bought it. Not for half a second!
He wouldn’t believe you when you told him you were growing disenchanted with a profession where you’re constantly portrayed as the villain, and wanting to join the side of the angels? He wouldn’t believe you’d want to fight by his side in an official capacity, without the courtroom dividing you?
Kristoph was right. It was just plausible enough. I still wouldn’t have done it, he said.
Yes, but you might have, and that’s all that matters.
Kristoph seemed pleased with his progress, almost carefree. Happy enough to give Klavier some small freedom of movement, from time to time. He found himself able to look around independently, or tap his fingers to the tune of old song lyrics, while his brother worked.
We can’t build our dreams on suspicious minds. So if an old friend I know. Drops by to say hello - would I still see suspicion in your eyes?
It was almost like Kris was doling out treats to a dog who’d finally learned to sit and stay.
Sad part was, it worked. -I wanna break free. I wanna break free. I wanna break free from your lies.- Tapping had never felt so exciting or rewarding.
Stockholm Syndrome, Klavier thought, recalcitrant. When your captor’s petty kindnesses start to seem like the world, gratitude is only a few steps behind, and sympathy not long after that.
So, that’s your plan? he asked. Become the Coolest Defense in the West, again?
And all at the expense of the Rockstar Prosecutor. Seems fitting, doesn’t it?
***
His first real attempt at bodily jailbreak took place in the middle of a supermarket. Klavier wanted witnesses. Wanted rumors and photos of ‘the rock star’s shit fit’ all over the tabloids. Wanted someone to realize something was wrong, as he sharpened his focus, willing major muscle groups to move, trying to push Kristoph to the back of his mind, the way Kristoph had done to him.
It didn’t work. Kristoph had known he’d try it. Had been waiting for him.
Face it, I simply want this more than you do. Who has more to lose? A selfish child, trying to reassert his independence, or a man with his back against the wall?
Inside his own mind, Klavier grit his teeth and tried to pretend he wasn’t scared. Think, don’t panic. You can fight this. Just don’t let it get to you.
Maybe that was his mistake, all along.
***
How are you doing this? he kept asking, over and over again.
You learn a lot, when you’re dead, Kristoph told him. I was a rational man, in life. That was rich, coming from someone whose temper had led him to bludgeon another to death. I never gave the afterlife much thought. Didn’t believe in it, in fact. But when you’re dead, certain things come instinctively.
Don’t worry, his voice soothed. I won’t let you follow me into death. I won’t waste this second chance given to me.
So that’s it? You just knew how to possess someone?
Not just someone. Don’t sell yourself short, Klavier. It had to be someone I knew, inside and out.
You didn’t know the first thing about me!
Didn’t I? The doubts that plagued you. The dalliances with - well, it must have been half of Los Angeles, Klavier, really? And still, you managed to top off your kick-line of bad decisions with Crescend, of all people. You were like an open book, to me. Much as I occasionally didn’t want to know.
Of course you know all of that now! You can read my mind.
He got the sense that Kristoph was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he had a headache. I said 'were.' Pay attention, Klavier. It’s not as though you have anything else with which to occupy yourself. I’ve had your number, long before I died.
Though, he mused, I could have just as easily gone for Wright. It would certainly have been just desserts. Or Apollo, perhaps…
I’d kill you if you tried, Klavier thought, with a startling shock of clarity. He’d never been a violent man, but for Kristoph, he’d make an exception.
His brother laughed. I seem to have struck a nerve. How narcissistic of you, falling for your replacement.
My what?
Your replacement. Since you decided to pursue a different career, I had no choice but to find another to take your place. We would have thrived together, Klavier. But perhaps it was for the best. He was far more clever than you, in the end. Far more dedicated, as well. He would never have run at the first sign of adversity. Simply learned his lesson and settled in for the long haul.
The words sounded simple and pleasant enough, but the effect was still chilling, somehow. So I was that disposable, was I? It didn’t matter who, so long as he’d be willing to become your pupil. Was that all Kristoph ever thought of Apollo? Of him? Interchangeable. Slot one in, as needed, in case the other is unavailable. Utilitarian to the core, the pseudo-benevolent twist making the dehumanization of it all the worse.
Would Apollo have been just as easy to replace, if something were to happen?
Jealousy doesn’t become you, Klavier.
Let Kristoph keep thinking that. Anything, to keep him away from the ‘falling for his replacement’ part.
Who wouldn’t fall for someone like Apollo? Smart and funny, he was easy to like, much as Klavier had been determined to avoid it, at first. Frighteningly easy to… he shied away from the obvious words. Anything he thought of consciously, Kristoph had a chance of finding out.
Anything- anyone- he cared for that much could be used against him. Better to stop caring altogether, than to put the younger attorney at risk. Apollo was already in Kristoph’s line of fire. The least Klavier could do was keep him from getting singled out.
I’m not jealous, he said, letting it ring false, playing to Kristoph’s vanity, and he felt Kristoph smile at that, buying into the lie, for the moment.
***
The second time he tried to escape, it was the middle of the night. Kristoph slept. Even dead men had to sleep, when they’d tired themselves out, possessing family members. It had taken all of Klavier’s determination to resist the wave of oblivion pulling him down into the depths. He kept his eyes closed, lest the flood of visual information alert Kristoph to his plans.
He felt the sheets, cool against his cheek. Flexed his fingers, denting the surface of the pillow.
The window in his bedroom was closed, trapping in the air conditioning and shutting out the noises of the outside world. A lonely space, in a lonely time.
Klavier had planned on grabbing his phone, dialing blindly till someone, anyone heard. Planned on running outside, as fast and as far as his legs could carry him. Doing something proactive, with the fraction of time he’d won. But when he sucked cold, dry air into his lungs, and exhaled, all the misery of the past several days poured out with it, left him shaking, tears streaming down his face. He reveled in the sensation, unwelcome as it was. Every tear, every jitter, every stunned, helpless movement was his, his body finally syncing up, finally reacting to the despair fracturing its way through him.
It was enough to wake Kristoph. Klavier felt the mockingly tender wave of brotherly concern emanating from him. Felt Kris’s fingers touching his face, wiping away the tears. Felt him getting up to make a cup of tea, sugar and lemon, the way he’d done when Klavier was a child. The shivers stilled, every muscle under Kristoph’s control, once again.
***
Klavier didn’t see the Sig Sauer on the nightstand until Kristoph was ready to go back to bed. He had no idea when Kristoph might have bought it. He’d never carried, himself, though he knew of other celebrities and law enforcement officials who did. His first manager had urged him to get pepper spray, at least, but Klavier never got around to it. Kidnapping attempts were something that happened to other people, and besides, he could talk his way out of it, if it came to that. You catch more flies with honey, right? They were all immortal, back then, riding high on the success of their first tour.
He wondered what the Gavinners’ remnants were doing now, without him or Daryan at the helm.
What’s this for? he asked Kristoph. Don’t tell me you’re worried about being mugged on your way home from work.
One can’t be too careful. Kristoph sounded smug. ...More smug than usual. You hear all those stories. Why, just the other day, an old associate of mine was shot, on his way to meet a client. Kristoph paused. For dramatic effect, no doubt.
No, wait, that hasn’t happened - yet.
You’re planning on killing someone. Klavier wished it surprised him.
Oh no, Kristoph said. Not just someone.
Phoenix Wright. The realization sunk into Klavier’s bones. There were only four people left alive that Kristoph could have fixated on that much. Klavier himself, of course, but this was his punishment. He was far more useful to Kristoph alive than dead. Apollo, perhaps, though Klavier still couldn’t parse Kristoph’s intentions toward the young man. Vera Misham, who had survived his original murder attempt, but Kristoph would not have referred to her as an associate.
Which left Herr Wright. It all went back to Phoenix Wright, in the end.
You’ve almost got it. Just one mistake - I’m not going to kill him. Apollo is.
Title: Way Stations of the Heart
Characters: Apollo Justice, Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, Phoenix Wright, ensemble.
Pairings: Klavier/Apollo, Phoenix/Edgeworth, past Phoenix/Kristoph and Klavier/Daryan
Rating: M
Warnings: Sexual references, and some violence (I can't tell where the graphic vs. non-graphic violence line lies, unless, like, people's guts are falling out.) Prevalent themes of emotional abuse, gaslighting and general creepiness. Major character death, right at the start.
Summary: Klavier thought he’d grown used to dealing with the deaths of people he loved, even Kristoph’s execution, but nothing could have prepared him for his brother’s voice inside his mind, or the inexorable loss of control over his own life.
In which there is possession, journeys to the center of the mind, too many close calls, and a love confession or two.
What do you want, Kristoph? If he closed his eyes- No, he couldn’t actually do that, could he? If he tuned out the world, he could almost pretend this was a normal conversation. Something like the last time they talked, with Kristoph leaning back in his chair and Klavier pressed up against the bars, to feel closer to him.
He was the one behind bars now, metaphorical though they were, situations reversed.
What do I want? Kristoph laughed, crisp and empty. I want my life back, of course.
Memories flickered across Klavier’s mind. Kristoph had known exactly where every single one of his cell’s security cameras were, had learned each guard’s disposition and bribed the ones he could into better ones.
Seeking out some semblance of control, where he’d had none.
He felt something like a nod, inside his head. To reach freedom, one must first have control. But that was out of my reach, no matter how hard I tried. Did you know, prison food is terrible?
Unglaublich! You and Daryan finally have something you both agree on. He always complained about it, too.
Oh, I think your wingman and I have a great deal more in common than that. We’d both loved you, and you tossed us aside, like so much trash. Granted, Crescend was petty trash.
Are you even capable of loving anyone? Klavier snapped.
“What are you mumbling on about?” A new voice interrupted his… whatever this was. A real voice, one belonging to Ema Skye.
“Ah, Fraulein Detective. Have you come to console me in my hour of need?”
Kris, your impression of me sucks. That’s actually really creepy. I’m not creepy, I’m charming.
Ema made a face. “God, you never quit, do you?” She threw up her hands, tossing a stack of paperwork into his face in the process. “Why do I even bother?”
Oh? Would you like me to actually try?
A head shake. “Forgive me. Call it a cross between force of habit and a coping mechanism, if you will.”
The pity ploy? Really?
Ema’s eyes flicked over his face, worried or appraising, Klavier couldn’t tell. “Whatever. Boss said you’re supposed to be on vacation, effective immediately. You should get your ass out of here, before he changes his mind.”
Kristoph gathered some papers up off the desk, shuffling them into a briefcase. “Ja, that’s the plan. Would you care to join me?”
“Hey, some of us still have jobs, fop.”
“I still have a job!” Kristoph protested, and that? That actually sounded like something Klavier might have said, under the circumstances. He was getting better at it. Fuck.
Isn’t it lovely, you questioning my ability to care for someone, when you can’t even get a washed-up forensics flunky to give you the time of day.
Leave her alone, Kris!
Or you’ll what? Whine at me some more? An exaggerated sigh. Oh, stop quaking. She’s hardly to my taste, anyway.
Your taste is irrelevant!
Is it? You’re not exactly calling the shots, right now, in case you haven’t noticed.
What. Do. You. Want, Kristoph? If Klavier knew what his goals and plans were, he could… What? Counteract them, with Kristoph reading his every thought?
In the outside world, Ema shook her head. “Well, I’m going back to work, and you’re getting the hell out of here. I mean it.”
She cares for you, after all. Isn’t that sweet?
Klavier snorted. Didn’t you just say she couldn’t care less. Being dead’s done a number on your consistency.
And whose fault is that? Kristoph mused. Whose fault is it that I died?
His feet were walking toward the exit now, taking him outside. Do you know what dying feels like, Klavier?
How could I…
Kristoph’s smile felt mild, almost warm. Would you like to see?
Metal restraints cold around his wrists, but that was nothing new. The air stank of vomit and disinfectant. His jacket had been removed, shirt sleeve rolled up, leaving his arm bare.
Figures, on the other side of the glass, nothing but a blur of black suits, at first. He wished he could have kept his glasses.
No, he didn’t need to see, to know who was there. Even nearsighted, he could spot Apollo’s distinctive spikes. So, the boy mourned for him. It was sweet, in its own way. The man next to his erstwhile apprentice must have been Wright. Just another face in the crowd, Kristoph wanted to tell him. Nothing to set you apart from the rest. You’re nothing special.
So, why this man? How could he have been defeated by that?
And last but not least, a shock of gold in a sea of brown. Klavier. His brother’s presence churned in his gut. Left him unable to name just what he was feeling, seeing him there.
He hadn’t thought Klavier would come.
Of course I-
That’s not what you said, back then. He’d been angry. Screamed at the man behind bars, heedless of the looks the guards gave him. ‘Enough. I’m done with you.’
It seems you’re not done with me, after all.
The technician found his vein easily enough. He knew what was coming, and he was far too good of an actor to show fear, especially in front of an audience such as this. He closed his eyes before the anesthetic hit, counted to ten, and waited as it lulled him to sleep.
That wasn’t too bad. Klavier hated himself a little, for the relief he felt, at that revelation.
Wait for it.
His body felt no pain, and if it did, it never got the chance to transmit those signals. Still, he knew the exact moment when he died. It was like something had hooked its fingers under the skin of his face and ripped, till it tore loose from flesh and sinew. His world was a tilt-a-whirl of darkness, with swirling pools of light, just out of reach. The living, each still anchored to their bodies. And one in particular, flickering and beckoning to him. Calling him home.
Blood calls to blood, and grief calls to grief. You invited me, Klavier. Is it my fault I chose to accept the invitation?
I knew you were scared, Klavier said. Your acting’s not actually all that good. He felt cold, whichever part of him still felt. Couldn’t shake the memory, though it wasn’t his.
A sensation, something like a hand, brushing his hair out of his eyes, as though he were a child who’d just had a nightmare. Kristoph ignored his jibe. See? It really was just like going to sleep. And now, it’s your turn. His vision clouded, and he felt reality grow more distant. He didn’t disappear, but he did fade. He might even have called it sleeping.
***
Klavier didn’t know how much time had passed, before he ‘woke up,’ again. Days, perhaps. His two weeks of enforced ‘vacation’ didn’t seem to be up, so at least there was that.
Kristoph had been busy. The money from his bank account had been transferred to several different accounts, overseas.
Could you be any more of a cliche?
Just because scam artists and movie spies do it, that doesn’t make it impractical.
Some of Klavier’s money had been transferred as well, though enough remained, in easy reach. Enough that Kristoph could help himself to whatever parts of Klavier’s life he needed, no matter where he was.
Oh, and one more thing. Apollo seems to be worried about you. I’ve done my best to calm him down, of course.
Klavier could almost feel his heart knocking dully against his ribcage. Stay the hell away from him, Kris.
You’re telling me to stay away from my own apprentice?
‘I saw him first’ isn’t a real retort. Not unless you’re five. And you’re not fit to be around anyone.
Technically, I saw him last. Since you’ve been napping on the job, and all. He seemed quite taken with my- I mean your- idea of going into defense.
Don’t tell me he bought it. Not for half a second!
He wouldn’t believe you when you told him you were growing disenchanted with a profession where you’re constantly portrayed as the villain, and wanting to join the side of the angels? He wouldn’t believe you’d want to fight by his side in an official capacity, without the courtroom dividing you?
Kristoph was right. It was just plausible enough. I still wouldn’t have done it, he said.
Yes, but you might have, and that’s all that matters.
Kristoph seemed pleased with his progress, almost carefree. Happy enough to give Klavier some small freedom of movement, from time to time. He found himself able to look around independently, or tap his fingers to the tune of old song lyrics, while his brother worked.
We can’t build our dreams on suspicious minds. So if an old friend I know. Drops by to say hello - would I still see suspicion in your eyes?
It was almost like Kris was doling out treats to a dog who’d finally learned to sit and stay.
Sad part was, it worked. -I wanna break free. I wanna break free. I wanna break free from your lies.- Tapping had never felt so exciting or rewarding.
Stockholm Syndrome, Klavier thought, recalcitrant. When your captor’s petty kindnesses start to seem like the world, gratitude is only a few steps behind, and sympathy not long after that.
So, that’s your plan? he asked. Become the Coolest Defense in the West, again?
And all at the expense of the Rockstar Prosecutor. Seems fitting, doesn’t it?
***
His first real attempt at bodily jailbreak took place in the middle of a supermarket. Klavier wanted witnesses. Wanted rumors and photos of ‘the rock star’s shit fit’ all over the tabloids. Wanted someone to realize something was wrong, as he sharpened his focus, willing major muscle groups to move, trying to push Kristoph to the back of his mind, the way Kristoph had done to him.
It didn’t work. Kristoph had known he’d try it. Had been waiting for him.
Face it, I simply want this more than you do. Who has more to lose? A selfish child, trying to reassert his independence, or a man with his back against the wall?
Inside his own mind, Klavier grit his teeth and tried to pretend he wasn’t scared. Think, don’t panic. You can fight this. Just don’t let it get to you.
Maybe that was his mistake, all along.
***
How are you doing this? he kept asking, over and over again.
You learn a lot, when you’re dead, Kristoph told him. I was a rational man, in life. That was rich, coming from someone whose temper had led him to bludgeon another to death. I never gave the afterlife much thought. Didn’t believe in it, in fact. But when you’re dead, certain things come instinctively.
Don’t worry, his voice soothed. I won’t let you follow me into death. I won’t waste this second chance given to me.
So that’s it? You just knew how to possess someone?
Not just someone. Don’t sell yourself short, Klavier. It had to be someone I knew, inside and out.
You didn’t know the first thing about me!
Didn’t I? The doubts that plagued you. The dalliances with - well, it must have been half of Los Angeles, Klavier, really? And still, you managed to top off your kick-line of bad decisions with Crescend, of all people. You were like an open book, to me. Much as I occasionally didn’t want to know.
Of course you know all of that now! You can read my mind.
He got the sense that Kristoph was pinching the bridge of his nose, like he had a headache. I said 'were.' Pay attention, Klavier. It’s not as though you have anything else with which to occupy yourself. I’ve had your number, long before I died.
Though, he mused, I could have just as easily gone for Wright. It would certainly have been just desserts. Or Apollo, perhaps…
I’d kill you if you tried, Klavier thought, with a startling shock of clarity. He’d never been a violent man, but for Kristoph, he’d make an exception.
His brother laughed. I seem to have struck a nerve. How narcissistic of you, falling for your replacement.
My what?
Your replacement. Since you decided to pursue a different career, I had no choice but to find another to take your place. We would have thrived together, Klavier. But perhaps it was for the best. He was far more clever than you, in the end. Far more dedicated, as well. He would never have run at the first sign of adversity. Simply learned his lesson and settled in for the long haul.
The words sounded simple and pleasant enough, but the effect was still chilling, somehow. So I was that disposable, was I? It didn’t matter who, so long as he’d be willing to become your pupil. Was that all Kristoph ever thought of Apollo? Of him? Interchangeable. Slot one in, as needed, in case the other is unavailable. Utilitarian to the core, the pseudo-benevolent twist making the dehumanization of it all the worse.
Would Apollo have been just as easy to replace, if something were to happen?
Jealousy doesn’t become you, Klavier.
Let Kristoph keep thinking that. Anything, to keep him away from the ‘falling for his replacement’ part.
Who wouldn’t fall for someone like Apollo? Smart and funny, he was easy to like, much as Klavier had been determined to avoid it, at first. Frighteningly easy to… he shied away from the obvious words. Anything he thought of consciously, Kristoph had a chance of finding out.
Anything- anyone- he cared for that much could be used against him. Better to stop caring altogether, than to put the younger attorney at risk. Apollo was already in Kristoph’s line of fire. The least Klavier could do was keep him from getting singled out.
I’m not jealous, he said, letting it ring false, playing to Kristoph’s vanity, and he felt Kristoph smile at that, buying into the lie, for the moment.
***
The second time he tried to escape, it was the middle of the night. Kristoph slept. Even dead men had to sleep, when they’d tired themselves out, possessing family members. It had taken all of Klavier’s determination to resist the wave of oblivion pulling him down into the depths. He kept his eyes closed, lest the flood of visual information alert Kristoph to his plans.
He felt the sheets, cool against his cheek. Flexed his fingers, denting the surface of the pillow.
The window in his bedroom was closed, trapping in the air conditioning and shutting out the noises of the outside world. A lonely space, in a lonely time.
Klavier had planned on grabbing his phone, dialing blindly till someone, anyone heard. Planned on running outside, as fast and as far as his legs could carry him. Doing something proactive, with the fraction of time he’d won. But when he sucked cold, dry air into his lungs, and exhaled, all the misery of the past several days poured out with it, left him shaking, tears streaming down his face. He reveled in the sensation, unwelcome as it was. Every tear, every jitter, every stunned, helpless movement was his, his body finally syncing up, finally reacting to the despair fracturing its way through him.
It was enough to wake Kristoph. Klavier felt the mockingly tender wave of brotherly concern emanating from him. Felt Kris’s fingers touching his face, wiping away the tears. Felt him getting up to make a cup of tea, sugar and lemon, the way he’d done when Klavier was a child. The shivers stilled, every muscle under Kristoph’s control, once again.
***
Klavier didn’t see the Sig Sauer on the nightstand until Kristoph was ready to go back to bed. He had no idea when Kristoph might have bought it. He’d never carried, himself, though he knew of other celebrities and law enforcement officials who did. His first manager had urged him to get pepper spray, at least, but Klavier never got around to it. Kidnapping attempts were something that happened to other people, and besides, he could talk his way out of it, if it came to that. You catch more flies with honey, right? They were all immortal, back then, riding high on the success of their first tour.
He wondered what the Gavinners’ remnants were doing now, without him or Daryan at the helm.
What’s this for? he asked Kristoph. Don’t tell me you’re worried about being mugged on your way home from work.
One can’t be too careful. Kristoph sounded smug. ...More smug than usual. You hear all those stories. Why, just the other day, an old associate of mine was shot, on his way to meet a client. Kristoph paused. For dramatic effect, no doubt.
No, wait, that hasn’t happened - yet.
You’re planning on killing someone. Klavier wished it surprised him.
Oh no, Kristoph said. Not just someone.
Phoenix Wright. The realization sunk into Klavier’s bones. There were only four people left alive that Kristoph could have fixated on that much. Klavier himself, of course, but this was his punishment. He was far more useful to Kristoph alive than dead. Apollo, perhaps, though Klavier still couldn’t parse Kristoph’s intentions toward the young man. Vera Misham, who had survived his original murder attempt, but Kristoph would not have referred to her as an associate.
Which left Herr Wright. It all went back to Phoenix Wright, in the end.
You’ve almost got it. Just one mistake - I’m not going to kill him. Apollo is.
