In The Wake Part I

[madimpossibledreamer]

sO MUCH TO DO SO MUCH HOW CAN ONE EVEN AAAAAA  <--ME RIGHT NOW
psychosis is soooo fitting for this guy
also if I seem more weird/hyper/whatever than normal, I haven't gotten a decent amount of sleep in a few weeks.  school is annoying.  i might actually get a little sleep during break though so there's that.  just have to make it there.
...If any of my readers are in similar situations, we can do this guys!  Somehow!  I promise no matter how bad things look, we can turn it around!
~Dreamer~

Main Points:
Ace Attorney universe optional.  It's...kinda dark, this one.  (what do you expect, it's the guy with the demon on his hand he is one of the best villains along with a certain villain from Trials and Tribulations because he just sends chills up my spine)
Summary: The execution of the villain from the first case.  And, technically, the last.  Someone doesn't deal with it very well.
Word Count: 645
Rating: Gen
Notes: Follows off Dance to the Beat of Your Heart, though you don't need to read that to understand this.  MAJOR SPOILERS (well, first case spoilers, but still, first case important yo) for Apollo Justice (comes after the last case).

 

            Klavier dragged himself to the execution.  He wanted to run, just start and never stop until he reached the sea and all there was to greet him was a large expanse of hollow sky and empty ocean.  But that would be taking the coward’s way, that would be proving Kristoph right, so instead he gets up early, carefully (even more carefully, even, than even a concert) chooses his clothes, makes sure they are completely clean, does his hair.

            Fortunately, he’s left himself just enough time to get to the prison.  It comes from being a performer; he understands how much time he has to get to things, and on days of performances he knows he can’t sleep in.  Generally, things go exactly as planned (which is why that concert will always live in infamy in his mind).  It doesn’t leave him time to think.  He doesn’t want to think.  Not today, of all days.

            He barely notices anyone.  Shrugs them off, gives them quiet, subtly biting remarks in response.  A few aren’t scared off.  When he’s more in his right mind, he’ll notice and admire, be touched by the loyalty that shows, the fact that he still has friends and hasn’t driven them all away (or, alternatively, they haven’t all become murderers).

            He does notice Kristoph.  No one could not, really.  For once, his brother had the center stage, was the middle of the drama, not himself.  It was a role, he’d thought, to which Kris was not suited, and yet, there he was.  The unsettling confidence, quiet, predatory way he moved, the ironic twist to his smile as he looked down on them all.  He was above them all, dominating this drama, despite the fact that this is his last, and Klavier’s heart catches in his throat.

            Are they making a mistake?  Or is it even worse than that?  Will the elder Gavin rise from the ashes, none the worse for wear, and kill them all?  Has he put labyrinthine plots in place, the mastermind that he is, that they will only discover to their ends?

            He opens his mouth to stop the execution, but the words will not come out, and he’s left breathing heavily.

            The haunting laugh reappears when he’s injected, the lethal syringe putting the poison in his veins, and even when Kristoph slumps in the chair, breath dying down to a whisper and then being extinguished altogether, the echo remains, chilling to the core.  Klavier’s eyes are wide.  He can’t seem to slow his breathing.  He wants to bolt, again, but he’s stuck in the chair, as if he’s the one who’s dying.

            His responses are no more sociable than before, though this time they’ve lost their sting.  He hears none of the condolences, none of the questions from the media.  He’s not allowed at the funeral, according to the people who are no longer legally his parents.  He probably couldn’t have made it there, anyway.  Somehow, he slips out when no one’s paying attention.

 

            “Apollo!  Where’s Klavier?  I don’t see him any more,” Phoenix asks urgently, and Apollo spares an internal smile for his mentor, who seems to have discarded any animosity he might have once held for the younger Gavin.  But in general the situation is a bit more serious, so he can’t allow himself long.

            “I don’t know.  I haven’t seen him much.”  In general, the younger man’s behavior had been alarming, but it’s not like Apollo had kept his cool, either.  It had been closure, kind of, but there was still something nagging at him.  Kristoph had that effect on people.

            “I’ll drive you,” Edgeworth joins in, usually calm voice tinged with a shade of concern.  “His motorcycle’s no longer parked.”

            Apollo prays to everything and anything that Klavier hasn’t wrecked his bike somewhere, and together defense attorney and prosecutor all but run for the car.