Work Text:
May 7, 2019
The Wright Apartment
“Goodbye, Kristoph.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Wright, Trucy.”
Trucy matches the man’s smile, waving at him. “Bye, Mr. Gavin!” She watches the lawyer leave the apartment, her daddy closing the door. And once he does, the smile falls from her face, replaced with a frown. Her daddy turns around, and she thinks he looks confused, or worried, maybe?
“Is something wrong, Truce?”
She crosses her arms over her chest, looking back at the door. Will he be upset about what she wants to say? She hopes not. “...I don’t like Mr. Gavin.” The way his eyebrows raise to his hairline makes it obvious that he’s surprised, but he doesn’t look upset.
“Why don’t you like him?” Trucy studies her daddy’s face. He’s not asking the question like most adults would, where they’re talking down to her, like it’s silly that she doesn’t like someone that she just met. There’s a look in her daddy’s eyes that reminds her of her old daddy. She wonders if he sees what she does.
“I don’t know, I just don’t.” She shrugs, looking up at her daddy. “But my old daddy always said to trust my in-stincts,” she says, sounding out the last word. That’s a big part of poker too, she’d been taught. It’s not just about telling when someone is bluffing, it’s about reading them during the game too. And reading Mr. Gavin, she thinks he’s scary.
Her daddy’s looking at her, but there’s a faraway look in his eyes, like he’s thinking about something. But he nods and she can tell he’s taking her seriously. “Okay. He won’t come over again.” Not that he’d been invited this time. Trucy had noticed her daddy’s surprise when he’d opened the door and found Mr. Gavin waiting there.
Trucy looks at him, head tilted. This feels… weird. She just said she doesn’t like his friend and he’s not pressing her to give him a real reason for it. Maybe he agrees with her old daddy about trusting her instincts? But she feels like there’s something more to it.
“You don’t trust him either, daddy?”
She notices the surprise on his face before he tries to cover it up with a smile. “I… I don’t know, Trucy. But don’t worry, it’s fine.” She searches for his tells - he’s always so obvious about it, unable to hide anything - and finds none. He’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t know.
April 20, 2026
District Court
Trucy sits in the courtroom gallery, staring down at the defense bench. Her eyes don’t leave Mr. Gavin, staring daggers into him.
She doesn’t know what happened last night. She doesn’t know why her dad was meeting with Mr. Smith (her old dad, that’s her old dad she recognizes him even after years, why was he here and why was he meeting with her dad) or what exactly happened for her dad to be arrested upon murder charges.
She does know that no one mentioned that the playing cards had blue backs.
She’s been at the Borscht Bowl Club enough times when helping Phoenix with his poker games. She knows about the different decks they use. There’s no way Mr. Gavin should know what deck was being used. Unless he was there too.
She looks down at her dad. He noticed it too.
Trucy keeps listening as the trial proceeds. There’s no surprise for her when the accusation is pointed at Mr. Gavin, though she feels a bit bad for Mr. Justice, who looks completely caught out. He didn’t see what she and her dad did.
She is surprised when it’s revealed that there is no ace card in the grape juice bottle. But of course. That’s the key evidence, Mr. Gavin would never leave it at the crime scene. She looks back to her dad, though he’s not looking at her, he’s staring at Mr. Gavin.
The ace is the key, it’s what draws together everything and makes clear that Mr. Gavin was there. It’s not here and she’s positive that Mr. Gavin has made sure they’ll never find it.
But they need it.
She slips out of the courtroom, unnoticed by most of the gallery.
Trucy always keeps some smaller magic props on her, in her bag. A throwing knife, some trick coins, and decks of cards. Including a deck that she’d gotten from the Borscht Bowl Club months ago.
A deck with blue backs.
April 20, 2026
The Wright Apartment
Trucy’s eyes meet her dad’s. There’s a bruise forming on his face. It’ll look horrible tomorrow. She hadn’t expected Mr. Justice to take the ace trick so badly, or ever find out, really. She certainly hadn’t expected that he’d punch her dad over it.
Phoenix seems to notice where she’s looking, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, Truce. It looks worse than it is.” But then the smile is gone, replaced with a far more serious look. “The ace. It was yours.” It’s not a question. There was only one person who could have pieced together everything and had the means and desire to forge the ace.
“Without it, Mr. Gavin wouldn’t have been found guilty.” And you would have taken his place hangs in the air, unsaid, but they both know it to be the truth. What was she meant to do? Watch as her dad was found guilty for a crime he didn’t do?
Her dad sighs, nods. She doesn’t think he’s happy with what she did, but he knows it was a necessity just like she does. The apartment is silent for a moment, before Trucy ventures, “Shadi Smith… Why was my old daddy here?”
She can tell that her dad doesn’t want to answer, probably hoping that she wouldn’t ask in the first place. He sighs again, lips pressing into a thin line. She can see the conflict in his eyes, and it becomes clear exactly why he’s conflicted when he says, “I can’t tell you yet, Trucy.”
“Huh? What?” Trucy stares at him, eyes wide. She doesn’t understand. The biggest secret he’s ever kept before now was what her Christmas present is. He doesn’t keep secrets from her, but now he is?
“I can’t tell you yet,” he repeats. “But I promise, as soon as I can, I will.” He meets her eyes, the promise reflected in them. It’s always been easy to read her dad and it’s only gotten easier over the years, so easy that she doesn’t even need to perceive his tells.
This isn’t like when her old dad promised that he’d come back and the lie had shined through everything, practically screaming the truth out to her. He’s not lying and he doesn’t want to be keeping these secrets.
As if to prove it, he takes off the locket that he didn’t have last night and opens it. Inside is a picture of her younger self, back when she was still wearing a pink costume. “But I can tell you that he had this.”
Trucy can feel tears pricking at her eyes. She tries to fight them back, but just like she can read her dad like a book, he can read her too. He looks sadly at her then steps forward, pulling her into a hug and wrapping his arms tightly around her. “I’m sorry, Trucy…”
The events of the day finally hit her, like a gut punch. She’d been focusing so heavily on the trial and proving Mr. Gavin’s guilt, that everything only sinks in now. Her old dad’s dead, murdered, and she nearly lost her dad too.
She melts into the embrace as tears start to fall.
June 15, 2026
The Wright Apartment
“The trial’s tomorrow, even though Wocky just got arrested today.” It seems weird to have a trial so quickly, and they barely got anything today to help their case.
Trucy sits down at the kitchen table, her dad putting a bowl of noodles in front of her before sitting down himself. “Yep. That’s how it usually goes,” her dad comments. She wonders for a moment if talking about this will upset - he’s always looked sad whenever the courts were brought up in the past - but he smiles, reassuring her. “Do you feel good about the trial?”
She thinks, and then shrugs. “We didn’t get to talk to Wocky today, but he didn’t do it.” She’s sure of that. It’s a gut instinct, telling her something else is going on. “We’ll prove he’s innocent, no problem! And then I’ll ask him to teach me how to be a gangster.” The last part is said quieter, as if trying to hide it from her dad, but of course he hears it and laughs.
“Good, good. Except for the gangster part. I’m sure Apollo will need your help tomorrow.”
“By using my power, right?”
Phoenix nods, taking a bite from his own noodles before adding, “I think he has the same power as you.”
That catches her attention, eyes widening minutely. “He can see lies too?” Her dad nods, but she frowns, tilting her head. “How do you know?” He glances away, face pinched as if in pain, but she doesn’t think it’s from getting hit by a car last night.
“...Is this one of those things you can’t tell me yet?”
Another nod. “I can’t tell you how I know, but I’m sure he has the power. And he’ll need your help in figuring out how to use it.”
She stares at him, an almost completely neutral expression on her face. She hadn’t noticed anything indicating that he can see lies, but she can’t rule out the possibility. But how can her dad be so sure about it?
Trucy has so many questions, and her dad can’t give her the answers, but… She smiles at him, looking for all intents and purposes like she has no worries, though she’s sure he can see the truth. “Okay! I’ll help him and show him how to use the power!”
She trusts that her dad is doing what he has to, that he knows what he’s doing, and so she’ll do whatever she can to help.
October 9, 2026
District Court
Confetti fills the courtroom, thanks to a certain hat-wearing puppet. The case is over and Mr. Gavin was found guilty.
Phoenix is waiting for them outside the courtroom and Trucy immediately darts forward, hugging him tightly.
(It’s so much easier, less painful, to focus on her dad being here, safe, instead of thinking about what the trial revealed. The diary page, her dad’s disbarment, the troupe rights that are now hers, her old dad’s murder…)
(She does her best not to think about that.)
Her dad hugs her for a few moments before letting go and smiling at her and Apollo. “Good job, you two. You did great in there.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wright.”
“Hehe, thanks, daddy!”
Apollo and her dad keep talking, about the trial and whether Apollo will stay at the agency and how Vera is doing (the doctors think she’ll pull through, but she hasn’t woken up yet). Trucy listens, but really her attention is on her dad.
Some of her questions from months ago have been answered. She knows why her old dad was here and what exactly happened that night. But there’s still questions, like how her dad knew that Apollo had the same power as her.
She moves as if to ask him about everything that happened, but their eyes meet and the question dies in her throat. There’s a silent plea in eyes filled with conflict. Trucy thinks he’d tell her if she pressed him on it because he’d promised to tell her.
She doesn’t press him.
She wants to know everything, but she can tell that something more is going on. He hadn’t been lying when he’d made the promise, and even now there’s a look of guilt that only she can see, so whatever reason he has for not telling her must be serious.
With the Troupe, there’d been so many secrets. And there she’d been, stuck in the middle and never allowed to know what was happening. But… this isn’t like then. There haven’t been years of secrets building up and up and up until they come crashing down. And he wants to tell her, he just can’t, and she knows that.
Trucy gives her dad a smile, a real one, full of happiness and love, and then turns towards Apollo. “So, are you staying, Polly?”
“Am I a bird now?” Apollo mutters, making Phoenix laugh. Louder, he answers, “Yeah, I think I’m staying.”
“Yippee! We’re going to have to add you to the posters, and to the website.” Trucy points a finger at Phoenix, scowling at him. “And you’re not allowed to do that! You’ll break it, again.”
Phoenix raises his hands in defeat. “I’ll stay completely away from anything requiring the internet, no worries.” He matches her smile and gives her a one-armed hug, pulling her to his side. Trucy relaxes against him, laughing as the conversation turns to how bad her dad is with anything and everything technology.
There are still secrets hanging over them, but Trucy is comforted by one fact: Her dad doesn’t break his promises. Whenever he can tell her the truth, he will.