In The Wake Part II

[madimpossibledreamer]

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: 793
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).

 

            At least Klavier had made it to his own home something resembling intact, Apollo thinks gratefully.  The motorcycle, Klavier’s precious ‘hog’, is parked terribly, and when the German is in more of his right mind, he’ll be angry with himself, but for now they can’t spare the time to right it.  Apollo sprints for the door.  Fortunately or unfortunately, it’s open.  At least he doesn’t have to break it down, but it’s nowhere near safe, even in this neighborhood.

            It’s a bit silly to run from room to room looking for a distraught friend, but that’s what Justice is doing.  He’s not calling the prosecutor’s name because, the state the man is in, he probably won’t recognize it, and even if he does Apollo doesn’t want to test what startling the former rock star like this would do.

            Usually, anymore, Apollo doesn’t see the similarities between the brothers.  Klavier is Klavier, not Kristoph.  Today, though.

            It’s not Klavier, Apollo had to remind himself.  While Kristoph meant every biting word, the antisociability, the cruelty, those were discordant actions for Klavier.  Even the nervous ticks were different.  Unconsciously, Klavier knew that this wasn’t like him, so it was like he was lying.  Kind of.  Apollo’s bracelet had been constricting enough to nearly cut off blood flow, but he stuck by his friend’s side through the whole thing.  Until the end.  Stupid, I shouldn’t have left him alone.

            When he makes it to the living room, he can’t help the gasp.

            It looks like a mini tornado hit it, broken glass and furniture everywhere.  None of the bookcases are standing, anymore.  Most of them aren’t even intact anymore, leaving jagged shards of wood all over the place.  One of the guitars is smashed, too, and Apollo’s heart aches knowing how much that’ll wound the younger Gavin on top of everything else.  There are also smashed CD cases and in some cases CDs, as well as torn pieces of paper.  Most seem to be a circumstance of the destruction, but some are deliberately broken or torn.  The sheets of paper seem to have music scribbled on them.  At least, even with everything else he’s going to have to replace, the TV seems just a little scruffed up.  Though I bet he was going to go for that, too.

            In the middle of the chaos is a slumped over Klavier, and Apollo runs over to his side, wincing at the noise as he steps on the broken glass.  Fortunately, Klavier seems to have a normal heart rate.

            As if by magic or ninja arts, Edgeworth appears with a bowl of water and a towel, both of which Apollo accepts gratefully.  Klavier’s clothes and skin haven’t escaped, either, and luckily while nothing seems very deep, the wounds definitely need cleaning.

            Apollo extracts a long sliver of glass from Klavier’s palm, grimacing at how much it must hurt, and at last the prosecutor stirs.  “Was?”  It’s begun bleeding now, but it’s not the steady gush as if it’d hit a major blood vessel, so that’s something at least.  Justice carefully washes the area.

            “I’m nearly done, Klavier.  Just let me finish.”  Ack, he’d even done all of this barefoot?  Well, with socks on, but those don’t seem to have done much against the glass.

            “Why do you care?” he asks softly, German accent heavier than ever, and it’s the anguish and self loathing that Klavier had confided he hated.  (“You were a teen rock band, and you didn’t like to write about angst?”  “Nein, Herr Forehead, upbeat was how we rolled, ja?”  “Well, good for you, I guess.  It’s still really cheesy.”  “That’s to get people to smile.  You need more practice in that department, Schatzi.”)

            “Why do you?” Apollo retorts back, and maybe it’s a little too biting for someone who just lost his brother, but a little of the fire Apollo misses returns to the eyes, and he looks a little less lost.

            “Point taken.”  He yawns.  “If I don’t have any cases, would the Staatsanwaltschaft mind if I helped out the defense for a bit?”

            He doesn’t seem to have caught on, yet.  And I’m not one hundred percent sure, but…the evidence is convincing.

            “None at all.  I know I would quickly lose my mind if I were ever on a strict forced vacation, and we all—well, the sane ones, anyway—want you to be all right, Klavier.”  Edgeworth will probably take the same firmness to anyone who objects.

            “So…absolutely no one in the Prosecutor’s Office, then.”  He still doesn’t speak German but it’s not hard to follow the conversation.  “It’ll be interesting to have you as my assistant,” Apollo smirks.

            The chuckle is weak, but it’s there.  You’re not fine, Klavier.  But you will be.